Slocum at Hangdog

by Jake Logan

  “He’s sure looking, though,” said Stopes.

  They finished their meal in silence, and Huggy said, “Let’s get out of here.” They stood up and walked toward the door, pausing at the counter to pay. Then they went outside. Slocum and Speer looked at each other.

  “You had enough?” Slocum asked.

  “I’m plumb full,” said Speer.

  They stood up, leaving half their meals on their plates, tossed some money on the counter, and walked outside just in time to see the three men duck into Ritchie’s hotel.

  “They’re going for a drink,” said Speer.

  “I doubt if they’re looking for rooms,” said Slocum.

  They followed the three men. Inside the hotel, they turned into the saloon. The three men were sitting at a table near the bar. Slocum got two glasses from the barkeep. He looked at Speer and said, “Let’s have a talk with them.”

  “All right,” said Speer.

  They walked to the table where the three were sitting, pulled out chairs, and sat down.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” said Speer.

  “Why, hell, no,” said Huggy. He figured the sheriff was Speer.

  Slocum grabbed their bottle and poured himself and Speer a drink. “You did say you’d buy us a drink, didn’t you?” he asked.

  “Now, wait a minute—”

  Stopes had started to say something, but Huggy kicked him under the table. “Sure,” Huggy said. “It’s on us.”

  Slocum turned up his glass and emptied it. He reached for the bottle again. “This ain’t bad whiskey,” he said. “It ain’t the best, but it ain’t bad.”

  “Well, uh, what you fellows been up to?” Huggy asked.

  “Chasing stolen cows and horses,” Slocum said.

  “Oh?”

  “We got them all right,” said Speer. “Took them back to their owners.”

  “Did you, uh, get the men what stole them?” said Huggy.

  “No,” said Speer, “but we got them men that bought them.”

  “Oh, yeah? Where at?”

  “Across the border,” Slocum said. “We had to kill them.”

  “All three of them,” said Speer.

  “Dead as rocks,” said Slocum.

  “Killed them dead, huh?” said Stopes. He was sweating. Barber was fidgeting with his glass. Huggy drank his glass empty and poured himself a refill.

  “So,” he said, “you got no idea who done the actual thieving?”

  “I never said we had no idea,” Speer said. “I have a pretty good idea.”

  “You boys seem to have plenty of spending money,” said Slocum. “You dig up some gold, did you?”

  “Yeah,” blurted Stopes.

  “No,” said Barber.

  “Well, which is it?” said Speer.

  “It ain’t neither one,” said Huggy. “I mean, it ain’t none of your damn business. We just got some money is all, and we don’t have to tell you where we got it. Is there any law what says we got to tell you where we got our money? Well, is there?”

  “No law,” said Speer. “I just thought you might want to be cooperating with the sheriff’s office. That’s all. I thought maybe you were good citizens.”

  “We are,” said Stopes. He looked at Barber. “Ain’t we?”

  “Yeah. We are.”

  Slocum, Speer, Stopes, and Barber all looked at Huggy. He hesitated a moment. Then he smiled, showing his discolored teeth.

  “Yeah, well,” he said, “since you put it that way, I’ll tell you where we got it. We got it from a good friend. He give us a stake whenever we tell him we’s going prospecting. When we strike it rich, we got to pay him a share. That’s all.”

  “Where is this good friend of yours?” said Slocum.

  “Back home.”

  “Where’s home?”

  “We come from up in Colorady.”

  “What part?”

  “A farm. Up north.”

  “It must be great to have a friend like that,” said Slocum. “Me? I have to work for every penny I get.” Huggy snickered. “What’s funny?” Slocum asked.

  “What kind of work do you do?” asked Huggy. “Kill people, or something?”

  Slocum leaned forward and looked Huggy in the eyes for a long and tense moment. “I do,” he said. “Sometimes.”

  “Mister,” said Huggy, “you’re making me nervous. I wish you and the sheriff would leave us be. Now, you’ve done had two drinks out of my bottle, and the sheriff has had one. I think that’s enough. Men has a right to drink in private. Who are you?”

  “He’s Slocum,” said Speer.

  “Buy your own whiskey,” said Barber.

  “You’re talking mighty tough all of a sudden,” Slocum said.

  “I ain’t going to gunfight with you,” said Huggy, “but I reckon I can whip your ass.”

  “Let’s go outside and find out,” said Slocum.

  8

  “Fight! Fight!” someone yelled, and then there was nothing else for it. Huggy and Slocum stood up. Slocum unbuckled his gun belt and handed it to Speer. Huggy unloaded his old Remington six-shooter and gave it to Barber to hold for him. They headed for the door, a whole crowd behind them. By the time Speer and Barber and Stopes got out the door, there was already a circle of bloodthirsty and drunken cowhands, local businessmen, and some women gathered around the two combatants, yelling encouragement and rooting for one or the other. A few bets were made. Speer shoved his way through the crowd to get a good view. Slocum looked over his shoulder at the sheriff.

  “This all right with you?” he asked.

  “I never did see anything wrong with a good fair fight,” said Speer.

  As Slocum turned back to face his opponent, Huggy drove a hard right into the side of his head. Slocum staggered back. He would have fallen, but Speer grabbed him under the arms and held him up. Slocum shook his head to drive the cobwebs out. It had been a hell of a blow, especially since it had been unexpected. Huggy danced around, his fists held up in front of his face, partially hiding the broad grin that had spread over it from dealing the first blow. Slocum put up his fists and stepped toward Huggy. He made out like he was about to deliver a roundhouse right, but instead he kicked Huggy in the shin. Huggy yowled and bent over to grab at his leg, and when he did, Slocum delivered his punch. He drove his fist down hard on the back of Huggy’s head. He was surprised that the man did not go down. He raised a knee hard and fast that bashed Huggy in the face. Huggy straightened up and staggered back a few steps. Then he roared and ran at Slocum, his head down. Slocum tried to sidestep, but Huggy ran into him hard, his head bashing into Slocum’s midsection, and the force of his forward motion carried both men into the crowd. The crowd yelled with delight and stepped back to give them room. Slocum pounded Huggy’s ribs with both fists. Nothing seemed to hurt the son of a bitch.

  He reached back with both hands, grabbing Huggy’s waistband, and with all his might, he lifted, pulling Huggy’s feet off the ground. Huggy still had Slocum in a bear hug, and he was holding on, but with his feet off the ground, his grip was loosening. Slocum spun in a circle, trying to sling Huggy away from himself. At last Huggy’s grip came loose, and he flew backward through the air, coming down at last on his face and belly on the hard-packed dirt of the street. He yowled, more in anger than in pain. He got himself to his feet and moved in on Slocum, slowly this time, his fists bobbling in front of his face.

  “Come on and fight like a man,” he said.

  “I’m ready for you,” Slocum said.

  Huggy swung a wide right, which Slocum blocked with his left. He drove a right into Huggy’s gut. Huggy made a noise like a whuff, losing his air. He shot out a left, which grazed Slocum’s temple. Slocum shook it off. He was inside the long arms of Huggy now, and he pounded Huggy’s gut with both fists. Huggy was flailing at Slocum’s back and sides with both his arms. Slocum suddenly straightened up, driving the top of his head into Huggy’s chin. Huggy straightened then. He staggered back again.

&nbs
p; “Goddamn you,” he said.

  Slocum was circling close to the crowd, and just as he was moving past Barber, Barber stuck out a foot and tripped him. Huggy moved in quick, kicking with both feet, stomping. Speer pulled out his six-shooter and fired into the air, moving into the circle. The crowd shouted in anger, some at the interference of Barber, some at Speer for stopping the fight. Slocum managed to get himself to his feet.

  “That’s enough,” said Speer.

  “No, it ain’t,” said Slocum. Looking around, he said, “Who tripped me?”

  Speer nodded toward Barber, and Slocum whirled and slugged Barber on the jaw, knocking him over in the crowd. Barber lay still holding the side of his face and moaning.

  “Just keep him out of it,” Slocum said. Then without warning, he turned back and drove a straight right into Huggy’s nose. He knew he had broken it. It was squishy. Huggy staggered back, both hands at his face. Blood ran through his fingers. He was momentarily blinded.

  “Aaahhh,” he yelled, holding his face.

  Slocum had no mercy. He moved ahead. He drove a hard right to the side of Huggy’s head and then a left to the other side. Huggy staggered, then dropped to his knees. He was still holding his face. The blood was still running. Now it was making a pool in the dirt. He was making a noise that sounded like a combination growl and whimper. Slocum looked at him for a moment. Then he turned and walked over to Speer.

  “I think the bastard’s had enough for now,” he said.

  “I reckon,” said Speer. Then in a louder voice: “All right. Break it up here. It’s all over.”

  Slocum walked to a nearby water trough and ducked his head in the water. He came up again and washed his face with both hands. Then he pulled the neckerchief from around his neck and used it for a towel. He looked at Speer.

  “We never finished our supper,” he said.

  Back at Brenda’s Place, they ordered fresh meals. “We’ll pay for both of them,” Speer said.

  “You already left me some money,” said Brenda. “More than enough.”

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot.”

  The place was almost cleared out, and by the time Brenda brought them fresh plates, the last customer had left. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down with Slocum and Speer.

  “So,” she said, looking at Slocum’s face, “what happened to you? Did it have anything to do with those three men?”

  “What three men?” Slocum asked.

  “Oh, don’t play dumb with me,” said Brenda. “You know damn well who I mean.”

  “Well,” said Slocum, a grin slowly spreading across his face, “yeah. It did.”

  “Slocum whomped up on the big one,” said Speer. “If you think Slocum looks bad—”

  “I ought to see the other fella?” said Brenda. “Yeah. I know that line too. What started it?”

  “Well,” said Slocum, “I did, I think.”

  “You bad man,” said Brenda, trying to look like a schoolteacher chastising a small boy. Slocum took a slug of coffee and shrugged.

  “We think they’re the rustlers,” said Speer.

  “I know they are,” Slocum said.

  “We just don’t have any proof.”

  “We know one thing,” said Slocum. “I think you’ll be glad to hear this too. Ritchie’s got nothing to do with it.”

  “That’s great,” Brenda said. “How did you find out?”

  “Whoever stole this last batch,” said Speer, “stole Ritchie cattle and Mix horses. Sold them both at the same place across the line.”

  “That is good news,” Brenda said. “Have you told Dave?”

  “We told him,” Slocum said.

  “And he believed you?”

  “He bought it all right. Said he might ought to apologize to Ritchie.”

  “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time,” she said. “I like them both. I sure didn’t like seeing them at each other’s throats all the time.”

  Back in the saloon, the three partners in crime sat huddled around the remains of their bottle. Huggy held a dirty rag to his nose. He could see again, but he was still in considerable pain. He downed another glass of whiskey. It seemed to help.

  “I mean to kill him,” he muttered.

  “What?” said Barber.

  “Who do you mean?” said Stopes. “That Slocum? For licking you?”

  “You both know damn well who I mean. Yes. That Slocum. He didn’t fight me fair. He hit me in the nose when I warn’t expecting it. Damn near blinded me too. I aim to kill the no-good, foolish bastard.”

  Barber leaned over and whispered, “When?”

  “When I’m good and ready,” said Huggy. “He won’t be expecting it. That’s for sure.”

  “You want us to help you?” asked Stopes.

  “You can ride along and watch,” said Huggy. “I won’t need no help.”

  “Good,” said Stopes. “What about that sheriff? He’s the one what shot me.”

  “I don’t give a damn about that,” said Huggy. “You can kill him if you want to. Right now I want you to go get another bottle. This one’s about done in. We’ll take it out to the shack with us. I need to get real drunk tonight.”

  Out at Mix’s ranch, everything was quiet in the main house. Helen had just checked on Dave and found him asleep. She went quietly out of the room and shut the door easily. Carrying a lamp, she walked across the room to a desk that was sitting there. She put the lamp on the desk and slid a drawer open. She fingered through some papers till she found what she was looking for. She took the paper out of the drawer and unfolded it. She glanced at the writing. It was dated some time ago. She thought that she might need to have it dated again, more recently. It should be all right, but she did not want to take any chances. She folded the paper back and replaced it in the drawer. Then she slipped the drawer quietly back in place and turned to walk to her room. Because of his gunshot wound, she had not yet started sleeping with Dave Mix.

  Early the next morning, Slocum was riding alone out to Mix’s spread. He tried to think of a course of action, but all he could come up with was to keep his eye on Mix’s livestock. Maybe the three would try again. If they did, he wanted to be there to catch them red-handed. He had told Speer what he was up to, and then he had ridden out. He was about halfway to the ranch when he saw Helen riding toward him. He halted his horse and waited. When she got up to him, she stopped her horse as well.

  “Good morning, Mr. Slocum,” she said. “You wouldn’t be on your way out to see Dave, would you?”

  “I was going out to your ranch,” he said. “I want to kind of keep my eye out for those rustlers. I mean to look in on Davey, though, if that’s all right.”

  “Of course it’s all right.”

  Slocum noticed that Helen was all decked out in a riding outfit. She wore a six-gun strapped around her tiny waist and had a Henry rifle in a saddle boot.

  “You always ride armed like that?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she said. “The way things have been around here lately, a girl can’t take any chances.”

  “You think you could shoot your way out of a scrape?”

  “I know how to use these,” she said.

  “Riding into town, are you?”

  “I have some errands to take care of,” she said. “I’ll be coming back shortly.”

  Slocum tipped his hat, and Helen rode on. He turned in the saddle for a moment and watched her ride. She knew how to handle a horse too. He wondered how good she was with the rifle and six-gun. He turned back around and urged his horse into a trot.

  Speer was on the sidewalk when Helen rode into town. He tipped his hat to her as she rode by. “Howdy, Miz Mix,” he called out.

  “Good morning, Sheriff,” she said.

  He stood watching as she rode to Lawyer Cal Baker’s office and stopped. She dismounted, tied her horse to the hitch rail, and went inside. He decided to walk on over to see Ritchie. It occurred to him, seeing Helen, that neither he nor Slocum had spoke
n to Ritchie since their visit with Mix. He found Ritchie behind the counter in the hotel. “I’d like a word with you,” he said.

  “Sure.” Ritchie came out from behind the desk and led the way to a table on the other side of the room. He motioned to a chair, and the sheriff sat down. He took off his hat and laid it on the table. Ritchie pulled out a chair on the other side of the table.

  “What is it, Thad?” he said.

  “Me and Slocum rode out to Mix’s spread after we left you with your cattle. Remember? We had Mix’s horses to return.”

  “Sure.”

  “We went in the house to have a visit with Mix, and we told him that you were in the clear. The same men that stole his horses had stole your cattle. He was sure surprised. Said he guessed he’d been wrong and he’d like to apologize to you. I don’t think he’s in shape to ride into town any time soon, but I thought you might like to ride out there to see him.”

  “That’s good news, Sheriff,” said Ritchie. “Yeah. I’ll do just that. Thanks for telling me.”

  When Speer was gone, Ritchie went into his suite in the hotel. His wife was folding some clothes. “Margaret,” he said. She looked up at him and smiled.

  “What is it?” she said.

  “I’m in the clear with Dave Mix.”

  “Oh?”

  “Thad just stopped by to tell me. You know our cattle that got run off and we went after them and brought them back?”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, the same men that stole our cattle, I think I told you this, stole some of Dave’s horses. Thad and Slocum told Dave. They told him that it couldn’t have been me. Thad said that Dave wants to apologize to me. I’m going to ride out there to see him.”

  “Are you sure that’s wise?” Margaret said.

  “Why not?”

  “He might have just been acting for the benefit of Slocum and the sheriff. It might not be safe for you to go out there.”

  “But I just told you—”

  “You told me about the cattle and his horses. That’s what the sheriff and Slocum told him. Did they say anything about his wagons and his store? He might still be holding you at fault for those things. Did you think about that?”