A Cold Hard Trail

by Robert J Conley

  “Let’s ride over and try the Watering Hole,” Churkee said. “That’s where they were hanging out the last time they were in town.”

  Well, he had tuck the thoughts right outa my own head, but I never said nothing about that. I just turned ole horse around to head in that direction. Zeb and Churkee turned their horses too.

  Chapter 20

  We rid on around the corner and hauled up there at the hitch rail in front a the Watering Hole. We clumb down outa our saddles and hitched our horses. Then we went on in, but we done that slow and easy and looked around when we got through them batwing doors. None of us seed nothing a Morgan nor Gish. We walked on in kinda slow like and bellied on up to the bar. They wasn’t too many customers in the place, I guessed on account a ole Potter’s posse. They was a few men setting around one table, and down at the other end a the bar from where we was they was a couple a cowboy-looking fellers. The barkeep was a-pouring them some drinks. We waited patient till he come on down to see us.

  “What’ll it be, gents?” he asked us.

  “Three whiskeys,” ole Zeb said. He didn’t wait to see what me and Churkee wanted, but he didn’t get no arguments though neither. Of a sudden that there barkeep, he stopped, and he tuck a hard look at Churkee.

  “Say,” he said, not a-talking to Churkee even though he was a-looking at him, “is that an Injun?”

  I started in to open my mouth up and say what if it is, but only Churkee beat me to the punch on it.

  “No, sir,” he said. “I’m a Jew. I’m a member of one of the Lost Tribes of Israel, and I’m wandering around this great looking country of yours trying to find myself.”

  The barkeep wrinkled his face up, still a-staring at ole Churkee.

  “You going to fetch our whiskey, mister,” ole Zeb asked, “or do I got to turn Kid Parmlee here a-loose on you?”

  Well, then the old boy give me a look.

  “Is this Kid Parmlee?” he said.

  “Whyn’t you ask me?” I said. I’d had me just about enough a this guy a-looking someone in the face and talking to someone else about him at the same damn time.

  “You Kid Parmlee?” he asked me then.

  “That’s what I go by,” I said.

  “You the one they say is a regular Billy the Kid?”

  “That’s what some says,” I said, “but only I sure do wish folks’d quit saying it.”

  “I—I won’t say it again. Three whiskeys coming right up.”

  Well, he poured us our drinks and left the bottle a-setting there in front of us, and it sure did look good, but I called back into my mind what had happened to me the last time, and I knowed we was a-looking for them two outlaws. I didn’t know too much about ole Morgan when it come to gunfighting, but that there Gish was said to be some good. I knowed that I couldn’t hardly afford to be drinking too much, so I done the way ole Churkee done. I just kindly sipped at that whiskey. Ole Zeb, he gulped his right down and poured hisself another’n.

  I glanced over at Churkee and spoke to him in a low voice. “Wanta go over to the other saloon and check there?” I asked him.

  “Let’s ask the bartender here first,” he said.

  “Hey, barkeep,” Zeb yelled.

  The old boy come a-running.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “We’re a-looking for a couple a fellers,” I said. “One skinny little runt. ’Bout my size, I reckon. Goes by the name a Gish. His pard is called Morgan. He’s a bigger man. Wears a black suit and sports a fuzzy mustache. They been in here? We got word they was headed thisaway.”

  Well, that ole boy hesitated, and I did believe that I could see it on his face that he was a-thinking real hard what he had ought to say to me. He was a-skeered a me. That much was plain. It was clear, too, that Morgan and Gish had been there all right. Otherwise the barkeep wouldn’t a had no problem just in telling me no they ain’t. So I knowed they’d been there. He final answered my question.

  “They was here last night,” he said. “I ain’t seen them today.”

  “Do you know was they staying in town?”

  “They didn’t say. Not that I heard.”

  “What was they doing in here last night?” I asked. “Was they a-trying to hire on hands or anything like that?”

  “All I seen,” he said, “they just sort of kept to themselves and had a few drinks. That’s all.”

  I give him a nod like as if to say that’s all I need from you, ole pard, and now you can run along. He got the meaning all right, and he hustled on off down to the other end a the bar. I tuck me another sip a whiskey, and it sure was tempting to me to just drink it on down and have another’n, but I never. Ole Zeb, he gulped down his second and poured a third. By the time he had finished that one, me and Churkee had sipped ours all down. I throwed some coins on the bar, and we turned and walked on out. We clumb onto our horses and headed for the other saloon, but before we come to it, we seed Potter and all a them a-heading into town. He seed us too, and he said something to that Ed feller and then left the bunch and come a-riding at us. Ole Chastain was a-riding alongside him. I seed Ed and some a the others dismount and start in to hauling them tied-up outlaws into the jailhouse.

  “Still trying to jump the gun on me, are you?” Potter said as he come up close.

  “We’re just a-trying to find out is Morgan and Gish really here, is all,” I said. “That old boy might coulda lied to us up yonder.”

  “Well, are they here?” he asked.

  “We ain’t come across no sign of it,” I said.

  “Your town’s still in one piece,” Churkee said.

  “They was here last night though,” Zeb said. “Barkeep over to the Watering Hole admitted as much to us. That’s all he’d admit to though. Said he hadn’t saw them since.”

  “I’ll ride over there and have a talk with him myself,” Potter said.

  “Betcha he don’t tell you no different,” said Zeb.

  Potter turned his horse to head for the Watering Hole, and Chastain just set still for another minute a-staring right at me. He never said nothing. Then he turned his horse to foller ole Potter. Me and Churkee and ole Zeb rid on down to the other saloon and left our horses out front. Inside, the place was about like the Watering Hole. It weren’t too busy, and we didn’t see no sign a Gish nor Morgan. Zeb went to the bar and ordered three whiskeys before me or Churkee could stop him. We bellied up there beside him.

  Now I knowed damn well that I hadn’t oughta drink no second glass a whiskey, not with trouble maybe coming at me just any time, so I kinda looked over at ole Churkee outa the corner a my eyeball, and I seed him pick up his glass and just kindly hold it under his nose and sniffle at it a bit. I figgered I could do the same thing, so I picked mine up and put it under my nose. I couldn’t hardly stand it though, so I did stick the end a my tongue down in it, but that’s all I done more than what Churkee was a-doing.

  “We gonna ask this barkeep?” I said, keeping my voice low down.

  “Let’s hold off,” Churkee said. “I’m betting that Potter and Chastain will be here just anytime. They’ll do the asking for us this time.”

  Well, Churkee was right. By the time ole Zeb had gulped down his drink and poured hisself another’n, here they come. They looked around the room and then set their eyeballs on us and come a-walking over. Potter stood beside Zeb to Zeb’s right, and Chastain stood to the left a Churkee. Me, I was standing right square in the middle.

  “You surrounding us for some reason?” I asked.

  “You been asking questions in here?” Potter said.

  “We ain’t done nothing but just order us a drink, is all,” I said. “Figgered you didn’t want us asking no questions. You’d say we was trying to get the jump on you again. So we quit. We’re a-leaving it all to you.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?” Potter said. I just give a shrug, and then Potter, he waved a arm at the barkeep who come a-walking down to where we was at.

  “What’ll you have, Sheriff?” he asked.
>
  “Nothing, Jake,” Potter said. “We have information that Randall Morgan and Jerry Gish were in town last night. Have you seen anything of either one of them?”

  “They came in here last night,” Jake said. “I think I heard them say that the kid was riding over to Fosterville this morning. I haven’t seen him since then, so I guess he’s gone.”

  “What about Morgan?” Potter asked.

  Jake nodded toward the stairs. “Right up there,” he said.

  Well, me and Zeb and Churkee and Potter and Chastain all ever’ one of us looked up them stairs at the same time.

  “He’s up there now?” Potter asked.

  “Yes, sir,” said Jake. “Went up just ten minutes ago with ole Katy.”

  “Be interesting to see how long can he keep it up,” Zeb said.

  “Be a good time to bust in on him and ketch him unawares,” I said.

  “With his pants down, so to speak?” said Churkee, and I could tell that he was a-trying to make out like he didn’t have no special interest in just how this all come about, but I knowed that he was a-scheming in his own mind how he was a-going to get ole Morgan before the law done it. I just didn’t want to see him get hisself in no trouble.

  Potter, he looked me in the face for a long minute, and then he said, “That’s not a bad idea, Kid. Jake.”

  Jake come back over.

  “Yeah?”

  “What room?”

  “Three.”

  “Chastain,” said Potter, “stay here. I’m going around back and up the stairs.”

  “I’ll be here,” Chastain said.

  I give Churkee a look, but he never let nothing show. I looked back up the stairs. Potter went out the front door. He’d have to walk all around the building to get to the back stairs. I knowed that. I watched till he disappeared, and then I looked up again and damned if I didn’t see that Morgan a-coming up on the landing. I nudged Churkee, and he give a glance, and he seed him too. Only thing is, Chastain did too. “He didn’t last too long, did he?” Zeb said. Chastain stepped out away from the bar and squared hisself to get ready to face off with ole Morgan.

  Morgan was coming on down the stairs, and Churkee was a-watching him and watching Chastain too. I could tell that he couldn’t hardly stand it. Of a sudden, he stepped out fast right smack in front a Chastain, and he hollered, “Morgan.” Chastain made like he was a-fixing to do something, but I stepped up behind him, whipping out my Colt, and I whopped him hard over the head with the barrel. He dropped straight down to the floor. I stepped back over to the bar.

  “Keep out of this, Kid,” Churkee said.

  “I will,” I said, “lessen he kills you.”

  “Who the hell are you?” said Morgan.

  “You had a Cherokee business partner once,” Churkee said. “Do you remember that?”

  “Oh, yeah,” said Morgan. “He wasn’t much of a businessman as I recall.”

  “He did all right,” Churkee said, “till his own partner robbed him blind.”

  “No one could prove that,” said Morgan. “What’s your interest anyhow?”

  “That man was my father,” Churkee said. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time now.”

  Of a sudden ole Morgan reached for his shooter, and Churkee come up with his own ever’ bit as fast as ever I done it, and he blasted it off before Morgan’s was even full pulled out. Churkee’s bullet ketched ole Morgan right under the chin, and it come out the top a his head. Morgan flopped around, then pitched headfirst down the stairs. Churkee put away his gun. Chastain moaned and rolled around a little bit. Then Potter come a-running from upstairs. He stopped on the landing and looked down at ole Morgan’s leftovers.

  “Damn,” he said.

  He come a-running on down. He tuck a quick look at Morgan on the way, and he could see right off that he was a-looking at a done dead man, so he come on over to us where we was at. He looked down at Chastain who was starting to try to set up. Potter give him a hand. Chastain leaned back against the bar and rubbed his sore head.

  “What happened?” Potter said.

  “I don’t know,” said Chastain.

  “Morgan come out a-shooting,” Zeb said, “and I guess one a his bullets grazed poor ole Chastain. Churkee stepped out then and done for Morgan.”

  Potter looked at me.

  “That’s the way I seed it,” I said.

  “Jim?” said Potter.

  Chastain shuck his head. “I just don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know.”

  Potter looked back behind the bar at Jake, and he said, “Jake, get someone to haul that out of here.”

  He meant what was left a Morgan.

  “Sure,” said Jake.

  Potter tuck a holt a Chastain by the arm and headed him toward the front door.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get the doc to take a look at your head.”

  The two sheriffs walked on out the front door, and a couple a ole boys commenced to dragging the body out too. Churkee picked up the drink what he hadn’t even sipped outa yet, and he tossed it down all at once. I tuck up mine and done the same thing.

  “You got him, Churkee,” I said.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Now we have to get yours.”

  It come to me that I didn’t really have no more to worry about, not too much anyhow, on account a ole Chastain already knowed that it was Gish and not me he shoulda been after in the first place. I kinda wanted to kill ole Gish, but then I guessed it wouldn’t matter none too much to me if ole Jim was to get him arrested and hanged up instead. Anyhow, he was s’posed to have went on over to Fosterville, what was ole Jim’s town, so I for sure didn’t have to worry none about him just then.

  “Churkee,” I said, “let’s drink to your job all did and over with.”

  “That’s a good idea,” he said.

  “Well, I’ll damn sure drink to it,” said Zeb. “By Godfrey, I got me the best damn pardners in the whole wide world, the two fastest with six-guns that there is anywheres, and I’ll drink to that two or six times.”

  He poured us drinks all around, and we each of us drank them down.

  “Say,” I said, “how about we go get us a table over there?”

  They agreed, and so we done it, and just in time too, ’cause them fellers offa the posse started to coming in just then, and the place kinda filled up in just a little while. Setting at our table, we each had us another drink. Some a them fellers had done heared about ole Morgan, and they come around to slap ole Churkee on the back and brag on him. He didn’t seem to keer too much for that kinda praise though, but then, he put up with it all right.

  I was starting in to get just a bit woozy, but I thunk it through, and I figgered it was okay this time. I reached out for the bottle and poured me another one. Then here come ole Chastain back in again. He was by hisself. No Potter. He seed us and come on over to our table and set down.

  “Howdy, Jim,” I said. “Did you ever figger out what happened to you a while ago?”

  “No,” he said. “I didn’t. I guess just what Zeb said. I don’t remember it that way though. Funny thing, the doc couldn’t find a scratch on me. He did find a lump on top of my head.”

  “A creasing bullet does funny things to a head sometimes,” Zeb said. “Ain’t no telling what it’s going to do.”

  “I guess that’s right,” Jim said.

  “You want a glass, Sheriff?” Churkee asked.

  “I could use a drink,” said Jim.

  Churkee jumped up and went off for another glass. Zeb picked up the bottle and poured our three glasses full up again. Then here come Churkee back with a glass for ole Chastain, and Zeb poured that one full. Jim drank it down right quick, and Zeb filled him up again.

  “When you headed back for Fosterville, Jim?” I said.

  “First light in the morning,” he said. “It’s too late in the day right now, and besides, my head ought to be cleared up some by morning.”

  “You want to put up with some company?” I a
sked him.

  “All three of you?” he asked.

  I looked at Zeb and at Churkee, and they both give me a nod.

  “That’s right,” I said. “The three of us.”

  “Sure,” he said. “Why not?”

  “We’ll be ready to ride out at first light then,” I said.

  “You’ll be hunting Gish, I suppose,” Jim said.

  “I don’t need to kill him personal no more,” I said.

  “For a spell there I wanted to real bad, but I give it some thought since then, and I reckon it’s just all the same with me now if you was to ketch the little shit head and just lock him up tighter’n a squirrel’s ass there in your jailhouse and then give him a trial and all and then hang his ass up by its neck till he’s dead as a rock, well, that’d be all right by me. I just want to make sure that you do for real get him. That’s all. You know, he has swore to kill me, and not just that, but to mash my brains all out. He don’t keer none about a-fighting fair neither. He said so. He’ll shoot me in the back whenever I ain’t a-looking.”

  “You promise?” Jim said.

  “Hell, yes,” I said. “I’ll make you that there promise. I swear it. I ain’t looking to kill no one. I never do go looking for no shootings, Jim. You know that much about me.”

  “In that case,” he said, “I won’t tell you to stay out of Fosterville.”

  Well, much as I was a-trying to get on with ole Jim, I just somehow couldn’t help myself from being a little smart-ass at that point.

  “How the hell would you keep me out a town if you was a mind to, Jim?” I said. “You can’t face me down. Would you slip up on me again from behind with a damn shotgun?”