by Len Levinson
In his luxurious bedroom, John Stone strapped on his two gunbelts. He put on his hat and left the room, descending the stairs to the main floor of the mansion.
He entered the vestibule, and Esmeralda opened the front door for him. Stone stopped in front of her and gazed down at her face. “You know, you look an awful lot like my old mammy,” he said in his southern drawl. “Been meaning to tell you that.”
“Was she good to you?” Esmeralda asked.
“I loved her with all my heart.”
Esmeralda beamed, and Stone walked out the door. He crossed the veranda and descended the steps that led to the walkway, on the way to his second night as deputy sheriff of Petie.
It was dark, and another full moon hung in the sky over the mountains in the distance. Stone was thinking about the discussion he’d had with Mayor Randlett and Jennifer at the dinner table earlier. It was clear that they wanted to oust Sheriff Rawlins and install him, John Stone, as sheriff. He knew the Randletts would continue their efforts to recruit him, and he wouldn’t be able to get away from their pressure because he was living underneath their roof.
There was another problem with living in the Randlett mansion, and that was Jennifer herself. She was a pretty little thing, and Stone was attracted to her. He thought she was attracted to him too. Sooner or later they’d be alone together in a room of the mansion, and anything could happen.
Stone didn’t want anything to happen, because he was engaged to Marie. I’ve got to find another place to live, he thought.
He was reluctant to move out of the Randlett mansion, because he loved the luxury, but he’d have to move out if he wanted to get some peace of mind. I’ll ask around tonight. Should be able to find something suitable.
In a few minutes he was in the center of Petie, approaching the door of the sheriff’s office, and he noticed that the new window had been installed. The door was unlocked and he pushed it open, seeing Buck Rawlins seated behind his desk. The other desk was vacant; Pritchard had gone home for the day.
“Evening, Sheriff,” Stone said, trying to be friendly.
Rawlins looked up from the shotgun he was cleaning on his desk. “What the hell you think you was doin’ last night?” he asked roughly. “A lawman don’t git into brawls with people. When that cowpoke took a broken bottle on you, you should’ve shot him. You ain’t afraid to shoot somebody, are you?”
“Yesterday when I asked you what the job involved, you wouldn’t tell me anything.”
“I ain’t yer nursemaid. If you didn’t know nothin’ about the job, you shouldn’t’ve took it.”
“I needed the money.”
Rawlins snapped his shotgun together and glowered at Stone. “You want my job, don’t you?”
“I’m leaving this town as soon as my month is up.”
Rawlins snorted. Without another word or even a glance at Stone, he picked up the shotgun and headed for the door.
He left Stone alone in the office. Rawlins’s desk was cleared; all the wanted posters had been put away. Stone wondered how his prisoners were doing. He took the keys from the notch and unlocked the door to the jail area.
He found the two prisoners together in the dark, damp cell. One had his arm bandaged and lay with his eyes closed on his cot, his face pale. The other sat on his cot with his back to the wall and looked sideways at Stone.
The man’s face was badly bruised, and both his eyes had been blackened. He looked at Stone with undisguised hatred.
Stone returned to the outer office and was about to sit behind Pritchard’s desk when the door opened. He looked up and saw Toby Muldoon, broken guitar in hand.
“Miss Elsie wants to palaver with you,” Muldoon said, “but it ain’t no emergency.”
Stone didn’t have anything pressing to do, and thought he might as well walk over there before he got busy.
“I’ll see her now,” he said.
He and Muldoon stepped outside into the darkness, and Stone locked the door.
“Buy me a drink?” Muldoon asked.
Stone handed him some coins, and they parted. Stone headed toward the north end of town where Miss Elsie’s establishment was located. He hadn’t gone ten steps when he was accosted by Mabel Billings, president of the Ladies Auxiliary at the Petie Church of God.
“We’re expecting you in church this Sunday, Captain Stone,” she said, wagging her forefinger before him, and it looked like a sausage.
“I’ll be there if I can make it,” he replied.
“Nobody should be too busy to attend worship,” she admonished him. “We also hope you plan to attend our Harvest Moon Ball.”
He told her he didn’t know anything about the Harvest Moon Ball, and she proceeded to explain it in detail. He listened politely, but finally, after several minutes, couldn’t handle it anymore.
‘Tm sorry, but I’ve got to get going,” he told her. “I have to see somebody on the other end of town.”
“We’ll be looking for you at the Harvest Moon Ball,” she said.
He tipped his hat and headed for Miss Elsie’s place again, hoping he hadn’t been rude. He realized that Jennifer almost certainly would attend the Harvest Moon Ball, since she was the mayor’s daughter, and he’d probably wind up dancing with her. Maybe he’d better start figuring out an excuse so he wouldn’t have to go to the ball, because he didn’t want the temptation. Jennifer was too pretty and he was too lonely, a dangerous combination.
“This must be him,” Deke Casey said.
Casey and Schuler were sitting on the bench in front of the tobacconist, and they looked at Stone approaching on the sidewalk. Casey had never seen him before, but he spotted the tin badge.
“I could take him down right now,” Schuler said, his fingers closing around the handle of his gun.
“Don’t look at him. We don’t want to make him suspicious.”
Casey and Schuler tilted their hats over their faces and leaned back, as if they were taking a nap. Stone barely noticed them as he walked by; he was thinking about Jennifer Randlett.
They waited until he’d passed, then pushed their hats back and looked at his broad shoulders and the two guns on his hips as he merged with the darkness and disappeared.
“Looks like he knows what he’s about,” Casey said.
“I want him,” Schuler said.
“You might be gittin’ in over yer head.”
Casey considered himself a good judge of men. Stone seemed tough and confident, nobody to take lightly. Men usually didn’t exude that kind of confidence unless they had something to back it up.
“You don’t think I’m fast?” Schuler asked.
“I know you’re fast.”
“I wanna draw on him.”
“Let me think about it.”
“What if I didn’t care what you thought about it, Deke? What if I just went and did it myself?”
Casey looked at Schuler, whose eyes were bright with excitement, as if he’d just seen a pretty girl.
“How come you want to fight him so bad?”
“I wanna see how fast he is.”
“What if he’s faster than you?”
“He ain’t.”
“How do you know?”
“I know.”
Casey wondered if Schuler really was as confident as he appeared, or if he was just trying to convince himself. Schuler had always seemed a little erratic, but there was no doubt that he was fast. Casey had seen him kill before.
“I want to draw on him,” Schuler said, squeezing the handle of his gun. “I want to show everybody who’s fastest.”
“We got plenty of time,” Casey replied. “Let’s go have a drink.”
The outlaws arose, and walked down the boardwalk to the Paradise Saloon. Across the street, two beady little eyes watched them. They belonged to Toby Muldoon, sprawled on a bench, his guitar lying on his lap. When they were nearly out of sight, he got to his feet and followed them, shuffling along drunkenly, carrying his old guitar.
Buck
Rawlins lived in a shack on the outskirts of town. He opened the door and saw Rosie, the waitress at the Acme Saloon, combing her hair in front of a mirror that hung on one of the walls.
“Where’s my supper?” he growled.
“On the stove where it always is. What do you think you’re doin’ with that shotgun?”
“Mind yer goddamn business.”
Rawlins laid the shotgun on the kitchen table, then went to the cupboard and took out a bottle of whiskey and a glass. He sat at the kitchen table and poured himself some whiskey, waiting for Rosie to serve him.
She walked to the stove and ladled out a bowl of beef stew, placing it before him, along with some bread and fresh butter.
He tore off a piece of bread and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing like an old bull. She looked at him and couldn’t help smiling, because she considered him a big baby underneath his noise and bluster. He didn’t treat her well, but she loved him anyway. He spooned some of the stew into his mouth.
“Like it?” she asked.
“It’ll do.”
He never complimented her cooking, but she knew he liked it because he always cleaned off his plate or bowl. She watched him eat, then took off her apron and hung it up.
“Got to go to work now, hon. Try to behave yourself tonight, okay? Stay out of trouble for a change.”
He grunted, and she bent over, kissing his cheek, squeezing his shoulder. He smelled like tobacco and whiskey. She turned and walked to the door.
He listened to her leave, but didn’t look at her. It was hard for him to tell her how much he cared about her, because he thought it’d make him appear weak, and Buck Rawlins didn’t like to appear weak. But he knew he’d probably be lying in a gutter someplace, if it weren’t for her. She kept him clean, well fed, and loved. He didn’t dare tell her how much she meant to him, because in his experience the moment you started being nice to women, that’s when they thought about leaving. He’d been through it before and didn’t want to go through it again.
He finished the bowl of stew, went to the stove, and got another. Rosie sure is a damned good cook. He sat at the table again and continued to eat.
His thoughts turned to John Stone. He’d been wondering what to do about him, whether to let Casey kill him or not. Rawlins was at war with himself over Stone. One part of him wanted to see him get killed, and the other part thought he should do his duty and help Stone.
He finished the bowl of stew and reached for his bottle of whiskey, as if maybe he could find the solution there.
Two red lamps glowed on either side of the door to Miss Elsie’s place, and light streamed out of the windows. The door opened and two men came out, their arms around each other’s shoulders, singing a bawdy song. Stone watched them pass, then entered Miss Elsie’s place.
It looked pretty much as he’d seen it the previous night, except it was full of men and women, and a man played a violin in the corner. The customers sat on sofas and chairs, and women in tight-waisted gowns, their faces covered with makeup, sat with them, talking, giggling, flirting, and sometimes fondling them. A couple ascended the stairs toward the rooms on the second floor, and another couple came down the stairs, a satisfied smile on the man’s face.
Stone took off his hat and spotted Miss Elsie on the other side of the room. She wore a green dress and was sitting beside Howard Conway, the day desk clerk at the Olympia Hotel. Her eyes widened when she noticed Stone, and she patted Conway’s knee, getting to her feet and walking toward Stone, her upper breasts were shaking with her every step.
“Heard you wanted to speak with me,” Stone said.
She smiled and waved the fan in her hand. “Could you come to my office for a moment? Won’t take but a minute.”
He followed her down the hallway, and they came to a large room with a desk, a sofa, and several comfortable chairs.
“Have a seat,” she said. “Can I offer you something to drink?”
“Whiskey.”
She poured a glass of whiskey for him and one for herself. He sat on the sofa and she sat opposite him on a chair, handing him his glass. He heard a woman laugh in the hallway, and the faint strains of the violin came to his ears.
“I just wanted to thank you personally for what you did last night,” Miss Elsie said to Stone. “I’ve decided to put you on my payroll. Ten dollars a week, to show my appreciation. I pay it to Rawlins and I might as well pay it to you too.” She opened a drawer of the desk behind her, took out a metal box, opened it, and counted out some coins, placing them on the coffee table before him. “That’s your first week.”
Stone looked at the money. “I can’t take that.”
“You earned it.” She smiled, and her teeth were small and white except for one on the bottom that was made of gold. “Consider it a supplemental payment.”
“The city pays me my salary. I think it’s against the law for me to take a bribe.”
“This isn’t a bribe.”
“I think the law would consider it a bribe.”
“There’s no law here except you and me.”
“I’m the law,” he said.
“I know that, and I’m just giving you a little present. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”
“I think there is, to tell you the truth.”
She leaned back in her chair and scratched her chin. “You’re the strangest lawman I ever seen.”
“I’ve never done this kind of work before in my life.”
“You sure did a good job here last night. Buck Rawlins himself couldn’t’ve done better.”
“Sheriff Rawlins is a good man. Don’t underestimate him.”
“If you think he’s something now, you should’ve seen him twenty years ago.”
“A lot of people in this town have a short memory when it comes to Sheriff Rawlins.”
“It’s sad what’s happened to him,” Miss Elsie said. “Too much drink is affecting his mind. The people in this town used to love him, but now they’re getting fed up with him. You look like you’d make a good sheriff.”
“Not interested.” Stone unbuttoned his shirt pocket and took out the picture of Marie. “You ever see this woman?”
Miss Elsie took the picture and squinted at it. “Maybe and maybe not,” she said. “So many people look alike. Pretty little thing, though.”
“Think hard.”
She shrugged and handed the picture back. “Can’t say for sure. I run into a lot of pretty girls in my profession, as I’m sure you can understand. They come and they go. Do you think she might be in the same business I’m in?”
“I hope not.”
She smiled. “You don’t approve of my business?”
“I guess it’s better than starving to death in the street.”
“Who’s the woman?”
“Friend of mine.”
“If I think of anything, I’ll let you know. You can show the picture to the other girls, if you like. Maybe one of them ran into her someplace along the way. My girls have been around. Sure you won’t take the money?”
“I’m sure.”
She put the money back into her metal box. “If there’s ever anything else I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask. If you want to spend some time with one of my ladies, feel free to do so—on the house, of course. It’d be a pleasure to entertain you, Sheriff Stone.”
“I don’t think so, but thank you anyway, Miss Elsie.”
She looked askance at him. “You’re kind of a tight ass, aren’t you, John Stone?”
“Guess so, Miss Elsie.” Then something occurred to him. “Say, you wouldn’t have a room here for me, would you?”
“Where are you staying now?”
“With Mayor Randlett.”
She thought for a few moments. “How do you like attics?”
“They’re okay with me, if they’re quiet.”
“I could put a bed up there. There’d be a lot of room, and it’d be plenty quiet. When would you like to move in?”
“I could
get my things right now and come back in a half hour or so.”
“The bunk will be waiting for you. You can even take your meals in the kitchen with the rest of us, if you like.”
Stone walked into the Randlett mansion, and Esmeralda came toward him out of the darkness.
“I’d like to talk with Mayor Randlett,” he said.
“The mayor’s out,” Esmeralda replied.
“Is Miss Randlett in?”
“She’s upstairs in her room.”
“Do you think I could speak with her?”
“I’ll ask her.”
Esmeralda headed for the stairs, and Stone walked into the parlor, sitting on one of the chairs. Opposite him was the fireplace, and above it was a gigantic painting of a woman who looked something like Jennifer. Stone assumed it was Jennifer’s mother.
Jennifer entered the living room, wearing the same dress she’d had on at dinner. “You wanted to see me, Captain Stone?” she asked with a smile.
Stone got to his feet. “Yes, I wanted to tell you that I’m moving out.”
The smile disappeared. “Moving out?”
“Yes, I’ve found another place to live. You and your father have been very kind to me, but I thought I should have my own place. Didn’t want to get in the way here.”
“You weren’t in the way.”
“I thought it would be best this way.”
“Where’s your new place?”
Stone felt the color coming into his face, but she’d find out the truth sooner or later anyway.
“I’ve taken a room at the other end of town,” he said.
“Whereabouts on the other end of town?”
He swallowed hard. “At Miss Elsie’s place.”
There was silence for a few moments, then she said, “I see.”
He smiled nervously. “Well, thank you very much for everything. You and your father have been very kind.” He realized he was talking too fast and too loud. “I’ll go upstairs and get my things now.”
He fled from the parlor, wondering what she must be thinking of him. She’d shown an expression of surprise or maybe even shock for a second, but then her face had regained its customary composure.
