“Barjack,” he said, “Aubrey said you was staying at the jail. I wouldn’ta set in your chair if I’da knowed you was coming back in.”
“Gooch, you silly-ass shit,” I said, “you know that this here is my private table and this here what you set in is my private chair. Don’t you?”
“Yes, sir, but—”
“And even if I ain’t in here, they’s still private and personal.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t you ever let me catch you a-setting here again.”
“No, sir,” he said. “I won’t.”
He backed off a few steps, and then he turned around and started to walk back to where he come from, but he stopped. Then he turned around and looked at me. He said, “Barjack, I don’t see no harm in me nor anyone else a-setting in your chair whenever you ain’t in here to use it.”
“Oh,” I said, “you getting tough now?”
“No, but I just don’t see no sense in it.”
I stood up, knocking my chair over back’ards, and I stepped right up to him. “Gooch,” I said, “I mean to show you the sense of it.”
I reached around behind his neck and grabbed a holt a’ his collar, and then I shoved his head down till it was might near his own knees. With my other hand I reached out and grabbed his belt just above his ass, and then I went to walking him toward the front door. He was kinda like running all hunkered over like that, and whenever I reached them batwing doors, I reared back with him and then slung him headfirst through the doors. He sailed out over the boardwalk and landed in the dirt street on his face. He crawled a few feet on out into the street, and then he turned around to look up at me still a-standing there on the boardwalk.
“This is my place,” I said, “and I make the rules for it.”
“Barjack, damn you,” Gooch said, “you went and made me spill my drink, and it weren’t even half drank.”
“Come on back in, then,” I said, “and I’ll buy you another one. I never said you was throwed out permanent.”
He got up to his feet kinda hesitant, you know, but he follered me back in and back up to the bar. “Aubrey,” I said, “get Gooch another drink. It’s on me.” I walked back to my chair and picked it up and set back down in it.
“You buying him a drink?” Bonnie said.
“I spilt his other one,” I said.
I picked mine up and drank it down. Aubrey seen me and come a-running with the bottle. He give me a refill. I don’t rightly remember much a’ what went on after that, except that I kept on a-drinking and getting refills. I think that Bonnie had herself a couple a’ refills too. Anyhow, I reckon night come on, and I come to feeling just a little guilty. Hell, ole Sly and Churkee and Pistol Polly weren’t even my reg’lar depitties, and I had left them down there in the jail while I set in the Hooch House a-drinking whiskey. Somehow, that didn’t seem quite right.
“Bonnie,” I said, “I mean to sleep with you upstairs tonight, but before I settle in, I mean to go back down to my office and see is ever’thing all right. Do we still got a bottle up there?”
“I think you finished it off the last time we was up there,” she said.
“Well, get one from ole Aubrey and take it on up there. I’ll be right along before you hardly even know I’m gone.”
“All right, Barjack,” she said. “Hurry on along, then.”
“Faster’n a goddamned snake,” I said. I drained my glass and stood up. I was a little bit woozy, but I tried to hide it. Bonnie got up and headed for the bar while I kinda wobbled to the front door. I went out on the boardwalk and stood for a minute sucking in deep breaths of the night air to try and sober me up a little. Final, I turned and started walking toward the jail. I weren’t moving too fast though, I can tell you.
I walked past one a’ them little narrer spaces betwixt the buildings. It were real dark in there, and just as I got past it, two thugs come out behint me and grabbed my arms. Another one stepped out in front a’ me and pulled a six-gun out and slugged me over the head with it. It hurt, but it only stunned me a little, and I groaned and said, “You goddamn sons a’ bitches.” He hit me again, and this time I went out. Ever’thing went black.
I woked up some time later, and I was a-laying on the floor inside a’ some place, and my hands was tied behint my back and my legs was tied together. I struggled a little bit to kinda test the ropes, you know. They was tight. “Cut me a-loose from this,” I said, “goddamn it, or I’ll see you hang.”
“You can’t hang a man for tying up a dumb-ass town marshal,” someone said. I twisted my head around to see who the hell it was. Up till then, I hadn’t seen no one since the one that hit me over the head.
“You can’t go calling a town marshal no bad names neither,” I said. “I’ll throw you in jail for that, and for assaulting a officer a’ the law whenever you conked me over the head. You just don’t know it, but I got all kinds a’ shit on you, whoever the hell you are.”
“Listen here, Barjack,” the bastard said, “if I had my way, you wouldn’t ever arrest anyone again. I’d kill you right now. Some of the men you killed was my pals. But Chugwater said no. He said we’re to hold on to you and trade you for Owl Shit. Right now you owe your life to Chugwater.”
“Oh yeah?” I said. “And what’s your name, Chicken Shit?”
He reached out a foot and kicked me in the ass. “One more charge,” I said.
“My name is Slim Carter,” he said. “Remember it, dumb-ass marshal. I might get my chance yet to kill you.”
“You might get the chance,” I said, “but you won’t live to enjoy it.”
He kicked me again. “I’ll live longer than you,” he said.
“Slim,” said someone else who was in the room, “cut it out. You know what Chugwater said.”
“I ain’t killing him yet,” Slim said.
“Chugwater said don’t hurt him none.”
“Who went and busted his goddamn head?”
“I had to do that to capture him.”
“That did more damage than a couple a’ little kicks.”
“Well, just cut it out now. Don’t kick him no more.”
“All right. All right. Hell.”
“It tuck three a’ you to get me,” I said. “Where’s the third one?”
“He’s gone out to negotiate with your friends,” said the second one.
“I don’t reckon they’ll trade for you,” Slim said. “You ain’t worth nothing.”
“Fuck you, Skinny,” I said.
“Goddamn you,” Skinny roared. I reckon I really got to him final. He dropped down on one knee right beside a’ my head, and he grabbed my hair in his left hand and pulled it hard, jerking my head up off the floor. With his right hand, he pulled out his six-gun and cocked it, and he shoved the barrel right against my nose. “I ought to blow your face off.”
“You won’t, though,” I said, “on account a’ ole Chugwater tole you to be nice. Didn’t he, now?”
“You push me any farther,” he said, “and I’ll damn well forget what Chugwater said. His brother can hang and he can rot.”
“Slim, damn it, I warned you,” said the other one.
Ole Skinny’s hand was a-shaking, he was so mad, but he turned a-loose a’ me and my head fell back down and banged on the floor. He eased the hammer back down on his shooter and holstered it. Then he stood up. “Be quiet now,” said the other one. Then I heared a voice come from out in the street.
“Hey, you in the jail.”
It sounded to me like I was in a building just acrost the street from my marshaling office, and that third man I had ast about, well, he was out in the street a-calling out to them inside. I reckernized Happy’s voice answering him. “What do you want?”
“Want to make a trade for Owl Shit.”
“No deal.”
“You ain’t heard yet what I got to trade.”
“Well, what is it?”
“We got your marshal Barjack tied up over here.”
“
I don’t believe you.”
“Open your door and look straight acrost the street. I’ll hold him up in the doorway over here.” It got real quiet for a spell. “Don’t worry. We won’t shoot while you’re a-looking.”
Then the two inside jerked me up onto my feet and dragged me to the door. Slim opened the door and they pushed me into the doorway.
“Who’s that look like to you?” said the man out in the street.
“Barjack,” said Happy. “Barjack, are you okay?”
“I’m okay, Happy,” I said. “Just shoot these bastards.”
They jerked me back inside and slammed the door.
“Well, how about it, Deputy?” said the man in the street. “We got a trade?”
“Let me think it over,” Happy said. “I got to talk to my partners in here.”
“Well, talk it over, then, but don’t be too damn long about it.”
It got damned quiet then and stayed thattaway for a few minutes. Then I heared Happy call out again. “Come on out,” he said. “Let’s talk about how we’re going to make this trade.”
All three Chugwater cowhands went out in the street. They left the door standing open, and I could see out and acrost the street. Happy come out on the boardwalk, and Butcher and Sly come out too. It looked to me like as if they would have a fair fight if they was to commence shooting. And then they did. Sly gunned one a’ them, Happy winged one and Butcher shot but missed. Then I seen ole Polly on the roof. She riz up with a rifle in her hands and snapped off two shots. One a’ them dropped the man Butcher had missed, and the other one killed the one Happy had winged. I went to kicking around and yelling my head off. “Come over here and get me the hell a-loose from this.”
Happy, Sly, and Butcher come a-running. Sly set me up. Butcher went to untying my hands and Happy tuck after the rope around my ankles. “Are you all right, Barjack?” Sly ast me.
“I ain’t hurt ’cept where they busted me on top a’ the head to catch me,” I said. Happy final got my feet free, and I stood up. “Are they all dead?” I ast.
“They’re dead,” said Sly.
“Butcher,” I said, “round up some boards and strap them bastards to ’em. Then lean ’em up against the buildings along the street here. I want Chugwater’s assholes to see them when they come a-riding in here next.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, and he went running out. Me and Sly and Happy walked back acrost the street and into my office.
“Happy,” I said, “run down to the undertaker’s place and see if he’s buried them others yet. If there’s any that ain’t buried yet, fix them up on slabs and stand them up out there too.”
“Yes, sir,” and he went running out and down the street.
“That’s a good idea, Barjack,” Sly said. “It’ll put the fear in them.”
“That’s my intention,” I said.
“How’d they get you anyway?” ast the Churkee.
“Aw, hell, I was a-walking back here from the Hooch House, and they jumped me from the dark space in betwixt two buildings.”
“From now on,” he said, “we ought to walk out in the middle of the street.”
“He’s right,” said Sly.
“Yeah, well, we’ll do that,” I said.
It weren’t long after that, Butcher had the first three bodies strapped on wide boards and propped up against the wall on the other side a’ the street. I thunk ole Skinny looked particklarly stupid with his damn head a-drooping. Then here come Happy with another one, and he propped that one up a couple a’ doors down from the first three. By and by, we had twelve bodies a-standing along the sides a’ the street, all a-looking dead, which they was, and looking plumb stupid for it. I called Happy and Butcher back in.
“Good work, boys,” I said. “That looks real good out there.”
Then I seen Peester come a-running. I stepped out on the boardwalk to meet him. He was breathing hard and a-pointing at the corpses. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded.
“That there is a message to ole Chugwater and his gang,” I said.
“It’s savage and inhuman,” he said. “I want them taken down immediately.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, “just as immediate as Chugwater gets him a good look at them.”
“Barjack, I’m the mayor, and I—”
“And I think you’d look real good standing out there with them,” I said.
He shuck his head and walked away trembling. I started to say something more to him but decided against it. He weren’t worth thinking too hard about. I stood there watching him go and admiring the work a’ Butcher and Happy with their town decorations along the street. Final I went inside. First thing I done was I went to my desk and tuck out a whiskey bottle. I got a tumbler and poured me a drink. I tuck a good long swaller, and it sure did taste some good. Then I called the boys around and poured each one a’ them a drink, but only Sly refused it. “Give it to Owl Shit,” I said, and I seen Owl Shit jump up off a’ his cot and hurry over to the bars, his eyes wide and anxious.
Chapter Thirteen
“Barjack!” said Butcher, who was standing at a front winder.
“What?” I said. I was a-setting behint my desk and sipping on a whiskey.
“Someone’s just rode up outside. I think it’s that Chugwater feller. Do you want me to kill him?”
“Is anyone with him?” I ast, getting up and starting to walk over beside him, carrying my glass with me.
“He looks to be alone.”
Well, hell, ever’one else got to the winder before I did, so I just shoved them aside and stepped up beside Butcher. Sure enough, there was ole Chugwater a-setting on his big roan stallion and looking for all hell like the lord a’ the manor. “I’ll be damned,” I said. Then I hollered out the winder.
“Chugwater, what the hell do you want here?”
“I come to talk to you, Barjack,” he said.
“Climb down off a’ your horse and hang your six-gun on the saddle horn,” I said. “Then you can come in.”
“You still got that jail full of folks?”
“Yes. I do.”
“I want to talk to you alone.”
“You got any a’ your cowboys hid out around town?”
“Not a one. I’m here alone. I just want to talk, is all.”
“All right. I’m a-coming out now.”
“Barjack,” said Butcher. “It might be a trick. Watch out for him.”
“Aw, he won’t try nothing on me,” I said. “But go on ahead and lock this door after I go out.”
I had my Merwin Hulbert strapped on around my waist and I was still a-carrying my drink. I walked outside and Chugwater come down off a’ his horse. I stepped right up to him and tuck myself a drink.
“Can we go some place and sit down?” Chugwater said.
“Let’s walk over to the Hooch House,” I said, and so we done that. Neither one of us said a word whilst we was a-walking over. When we got inside, I seen that my private table was empty. I reckoned that the word was getting around about how I felt about that. I walked on back to it, and Chugwater follered me. We both set down, and Aubrey come a-running. Chugwater ordered him a drink, and I told Aubrey he might just as well bring me a fresh one. He hurried off, and in a minute he was back with two drinks. “Put ’em both on my tab,” I said. Chugwater picked his up and tuck a sip.
“Thanks, Barjack,” he said.
“What is it you’s wanting to talk about?” I ast him.
“My brother,” he said.
“You already know how I feel about that there issue,” I said.
“And you know how I feel and how come,” he said.
“Then it looks to me like we ain’t got nothing to talk about.”
“I want to offer you a deal,” he said.
“What you got that I would want?”
“I’ve got twenty hands that will fight for me,” he said. “I can send them in in a bunch, or I can call them off.”
“Call them off and you’ll sa
ve us both a hell of a lot a’ trouble.”
“I can’t do that without you give me my brother.”
“I ain’t about to do that. You know that already.”
“Barjack, think about what you’re doing. You’re holed up in that jailhouse pretty well, and if I come back in with my boys, you can kill a few more. We both know that. But with all the men I can get, I’ll kill some of yours sooner or later. Might even kill you.”
“You might.”
“So if you give in, I’ll call the whole thing off, and we’ll save a number of lives. Ain’t that what your job is all about?”
“My job is about holding up the law, and we got us a law against killing, especially unprovoked killing. Owl Shit done one a’ them. I was a witness. I got to hold him for trial. Even you ought to be able to see that. Now, Owl Shit’s got away with a whole hell of a lot in this town, and I’m sure in other places, on account a’ whenever he gets his ass in trouble, you come along and get him out. But this time he’s went too far. Not even you can help him.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Yes. We will.”
“Barjack, I don’t want to have to kill you.”
“The way I see it, you don’t have to.”
“Without I get my brother out a’ your jail, I do.”
I drained my glass from the office, and then I said, “Well, you ain’t a-getting him, so just put that thought outta your head.”
“Barjack, you and me’s been friends for a long time now.”
“Well, we’ve knowed each other for a while,” I said. “I wouldn’t go no farther than that.”
“You’re a mean son of a bitch,” he said.
“You ain’t the first to say that neither,” I told him. “Now, if you ain’t got nothing better to say to me, I’ll be getting back to my office. You can stay here and finish your drink, but I’m a-warning you. Don’t bring no more a’ your cowhands in here or else there’ll be more killing, and you’ll be the loser.”
Rio Loco Page 10
