by J. T. Edson
‘Come on in, gentlemen. And may I ask your ladies to join us on this occasion?’ Jesse Sparlow greeted as Mark Counter, the Viridians, Gianna Profaci and Schweitzer came to a stop in front of the New Orleans Saloon. ‘I’ve set up drinks on the house, so I hope that you’ll all do me the honor of joining me.’
On seeing that the meeting with Ribagorza had come to an amicable end, one of the townsmen had taken to his horse and dashed into Pilar without waiting for orders. Going by the various sounds which were coming from inside the saloon, the good news was already being celebrated. Glancing at his two male companions, Mark could see that they did not care for what they were hearing.
Schweitzer had not pressed further with the subject of preparing the contracts in the factory’s office, which Mark had regarded as a sign that he made it merely to test a theory. Instead, the storekeeper had said that he would go back to town. Once again, the Viridians had displayed their reluctance over the thought of him separating from them. Having told the supervisors to have the various defenses dismantled, Viridian had stated that he would accompany his partner. As an excuse for leaving the factory, he had claimed that he wanted to hear more about the two attempts which had been made upon his wife’s life.
While Marlene, Gianna and Schweitzer had shared the buckboard in which they had made the journey out to the factory, Mark and Viridian had ridden their horses on either side of it. The Italian woman had started to praise the blond giant for having been smart enough to deduce that the Mexicans were not coming to attack them. Immediately, Marlene had interposed with a question about the death of Dolman and had succeeded in having his attention occupied by answering her all the way to Pilar. It had been obvious to Mark—and the rest of the party—that Marlene had no intention of allowing Gianna to get on too familiar terms with him.
Dismounting, Mark and Viridian left their horses at the hitching rail. On going to help the woman from the buckboard, the big blond tactfully left Viridian to attend to Marlene. Taking Mark’s offered hand, Gianna deliberately contrived to stumble into his arms as she dropped to the ground. He was compelled to catch and hold her against him.
‘My, you’re strong,’ Gianna purred, making no attempt to free herself from his grasp. ‘I hope I didn’t hurt you?’
‘Shucks, no, ma’am,’ Mark replied, conscious of Marlene’s cold disapproving gaze. He continued to hold Gianna while darting a glance at the other men. Although Schweitzer appeared disinterested, Viridian matched his wife’s expression. So, to a lesser degree, did Sparlow until his face returned to being its usual impassive mask. The change came so quickly that Mark could not be sure that he had seen correctly. Easing the woman away, he went on, ‘A dainty little thing like you wouldn’t hurt more than a peach blossom.’
‘Shall we go inside?’ Marlene demanded, in a voice that was cold enough to form icicles. ‘By the way, Austin. I’ve invited Mark to stay with us until the other ranchers arrive.’
‘I could always bed down at the rooming house,’ Mark suggested, throwing a conspiratorial glance at Gianna which he felt sure would bring the required response.
‘There’s no point in you doing that,’ Viridian growled, having noticed the glance and—as Mark had hoped—deciding that he would be able to keep a close watch upon the big blond and Gianna by agreeing to have him stay. ‘We’ve rooms to spare and will be pleased to have you stay with us.’
‘I hope you get the same bedroom I used last night, Mark,’ Gianna commented. ‘It was very comfortable Of course you didn’t know that I was at your house last night, did you, Marlene?’
‘We thought it’d be best, with Joe away,’ Viridian explained and took his wife’s arm. ‘Let’s go inside.’
Mark looked around as they entered the saloon and were being escorted to a table by Sparlow. Clearly de Froissart had been lavish in his spending when building and equipping the place. Although no longer new, the furnishings and fitting were more what would be found in the wealthy section of a major city. However, his thoughts on the subject were brought to an abrupt end.
‘Sit down, please,’ Sparlow said, in the manner of host in his own home. ‘I’ll have anything you want brought over. Keep the drinks going, behind the bar. It’s on the house today.’
‘Just a moment, Mr. Sparlow,’ Schweitzer snapped, without sitting down.
The gambler had turned and started to walk away while addressing the order to the bartender. At the storekeeper’s words, he swung around to face the partners.
‘Yes?’ he said and Mark could detect an alert air about him.
‘Why are you giving away drinks like this?’ Schweitzer demanded and Viridian grunted his agreement.
‘It’s traditional for the new owner of a saloon to give drinks on the house when he takes over,’ Sparlow replied and slapped his left hand against his thigh in what appeared to be an idle, casual gesture.
‘We know that,’ Viridian growled, glancing around with his main attention on the men at the bar. They were clearly making the most of the gambler’s generosity. ‘But you should have waited ’
The words died away as the hide and tallow man saw three of the saloon’s employees converging on Sparlow. Mark too had noticed them while studying the barroom, because they had not been drinking or doing any work. Instead, they had appeared to be watching the gambler. Apparently that innocent-seeming slap on the thigh had been a signal to them. Although they neither spoke nor came right up to Sparlow, they hovered in the immediate background exuding an air of readiness and menace.
‘Why should I wait?’ the gambler inquired in a challenging fashion. ‘Pierre made me his partner just before he left for Fort Worth. I’m the new owner.’
‘He never told us about it! ’ Schweitzer grumbled.
‘I thought he had,’ Sparlow answered. ‘We were half-brothers and he asked me to join him. Then, if I showed him that I could handle the saloon, he would make me his partner.’
‘Neither of you ever mentioned you were related,’ Schweitzer pointed out.
‘We didn’t want anybody to know,’ Sparlow countered. ‘The staff would have figured they had to do what I told them if they’d known I was the boss’s brother.’
‘Nobody’s doubting you-all, Mr. Sparlow,’ Mark put in quietly, watching the gambler and the trio behind him. ‘And even if they did, you’ve likely got something in writing to show them they’re wrong.’
‘I haven’t,’ the gambler admitted, in a flat tone which still held a note of warning. ‘Pierre gave me his word on it. That’s all two Southron gentlemen need.’
‘I was with ’em when he gave it,’ the largest of the saloon trio put in, with the air of proving a point.
Scowling at the speaker, Viridian decided that he would have been more impressed if the confirmation had not been given by a man who had arrived with the gambler. However, the hide and tallow man did not air his misgivings. To have done so would be regarded as casting doubts on Sparlow’s and his supporter’s veracity.
Basically, what the gambler was claiming could have happened. In the past, deals had been made and partnerships formed in the South—involving properties of far greater value than the saloon—with nothing more than verbal agreements to back them. De Froissart had always boasted that he was a Southron gentleman, born and raised in Dixie’s stern moral code. However, he had always insisted that any business dealing with the other members of the Company be put into writing, signed and witnessed. Of course, he might have behaved differently with another Southron, especially one of his kinfolk. Sparlow’s swarthy features could mean that he had Creole blood. So the relationship was possible and he had given a valid reason for them not having mentioned it.
‘He couldn’t have made you a partner in our Company,’ Schweitzer protested, while his partner was considering the implications. ‘That was one of the rules we made when we formed it. We all signed an agreement that each partner’s share must revert to the others on his death and couldn’t be given to anybody else.’
‘That’s a mi
ghty convenient agreement,’ Sparlow replied, ‘for the ones who are left.’
‘It was all legal and above board,’ Viridian put in hurriedly, remembering that—despite the trouble they had been expecting—the storekeeper was following his usual habit of not wearing a gun. He also knew that, in the event of a showdown, the saloon workers would concentrate upon the armed members of the opposition, himself and Mark Counter, first. ‘Do you know where the key for Pierre’s safe might be?’
‘Sure,’ the gambler replied. ‘He left it with me. Why do you want it?’
‘There should be a copy of the Company’s charter in it,’ Schweitzer answered for his partner.
Viridian darted a glance at the storekeeper. Like him, the burly man was hoping to find de Froissart’s copy of the statement in the safe. From all appearances, Schweitzer was sharing his anxiety over the possibility of Sparlow having read it.
‘If it is, I haven’t seen it,’ the gambler stated. ‘But there’s a document box I haven’t been—don’t have a key to open.’
‘I may have it,’ Marlene put in, opening her vanity bag. ‘There was a bunch of keys among the other things Pierre’s valet asked me to look after.’
‘Can we try them, Mr. Sparlow?’ Viridian inquired, hating to be making a request instead of giving an order. ‘If one works, we can clear things up.’
‘It’s only his share in the Company that he couldn’t dispose of,’ Schweitzer went on. ‘The saloon was his personal property and has nothing to do with us.’
Before answering, Sparlow looked around the room. He discovered, as he had expected, that the conversation was attracting attention. All drinking had ceased as the men at the bar watched and listened to what was going on. Then he returned his gaze to the two partners. He knew that everybody was waiting to hear how he replied.
Knowing that he had only three supporters, Sparlow was not ready to force the issue any further. He was aware that he had no claim to membership of the Pilar Hide & Tallow Company. In fact, he was bluffing about his relationship and partnership with de Froissart. He had merely been trying to find out how Viridian and Schweitzer would react to the suggestion that, due to the Creole’s death, he was now the owner of the saloon. Apparently they were willing to accept him in that capacity. So there was no point in bringing about a showdown. Particularly as he felt sure that the majority of the citizens and all but three of the saloon’s employees would stand by the partners.
‘Come and show me the agreement,’ Sparlow offered, accepting the keys and other property from Marlene. ‘If none of these work, we’ll break open the lock. It’ll have to be done anyway so that I can see what’s inside.’
‘Most likely there’ll be some other papers belonging to the Company,’ Viridian remarked, trying to sound matter-of-fact. ‘You won’t mind us taking them, will you? They’re of no value except to us.’
‘Just papers?’ Sparlow inquired and the two words were redolent of suspicion.
‘Just records of a few old deals the Company’s made,’ Viridian answered, worried by the tone which had entered the gambler’s voice.
‘There wouldn’t be any of the Company’s money in it?’ asked Sparlow.
‘Of course not,’ Viridian confirmed, seeing what had caused the questions. ‘Any money that’s there belongs to the saloon. It’s nothing to do with us.’
‘Then you can go and take whatever you find that belongs to you,’ the gambler promised.
‘Some of the papers are confidential,’ Schweitzer warned.
‘And, seeing that you aren’t a partner—’
‘The saloon’s all I’m interested in,’ Sparlow assured him. ‘You can take all the papers that belong to your Company and welcome. Shall we go and see to it?’
‘They don’t need us, Mark,’ Gianna commented, sitting at the table to which they had been escorted. She slapped the chair next to her and smiled invitingly at the big blond. ‘Come and tell me all about the County Fair.’
‘Why sure,’ Mark agreed. ‘It’s between these gents anyway and no concern of mine.’
‘I’ll stay too,’ Marlene stated and saw the partners throw puzzled looks at her. ‘It won’t need three of us to bring the papers from the safe.’
Although Marlene had meant to go with the men, she did not intend to leave Mark and Gianna together. The decision to stay had not been difficult to reach. All along, her failure to mention that she had already destroyed the Creole’s copy had been caused by nothing more than malicious pleasure at seeing her husband worried over the possibility of it falling into the wrong hands.
Ignoring the interest she had aroused between Viridian and Schweitzer, Marlene swept around to take the chair which Gianna had offered to Mark. Throwing a triumphant look at the other woman, she sat down. For a moment, as the other men walked away, the big blond was tempted to go and sit at the other side of Gianna. He decided against doing it. To arouse Marlene’s jealousy might make her more forthcoming, but it could easily have just the opposite effect. So sitting down with her between him and the Italian woman, he spent the time that the other men were away describing—with frequent interruptions from Marlene—the various items of interest that had occurred at the County Fair. All in all, he was not very sorry when the partners and Sparlow returned. He was starting to feel like a choice piece of meat between two cats.
Studying Viridian and Schweitzer as they stalked towards the table, Mark decided that they looked perturbed and suspicious. Strolling alongside them, Sparlow had a typical gambler’s lack of expression and there was nothing to be read on his swarthy face. The big blond knew, without needing to think hard, what was on the partners’ minds. Having failed to find de Froissart’s copy of the statement, each of them was wondering where it could be.
A thought occurred to the blond giant as he was considering the cause of the two men’s perturbation. Having a safe available, where it could be watched over by a person he had trusted well enough to make a full partner in his business, why had de Froissart thought it necessary to take the incriminating document with him to Fort Worth?
Before Mark could draw any conclusion on the intriguing question, Viridian, Schweitzer and Sparlow reached the table. Looking around quickly, Mark found that the gambler’s three supporters were watching. They had withdrawn to their original positions after the partners and their employer had gone to the office, but did not appear to have joined in the festivities.
‘Did you get all of the Company’s papers, Austin?’ Marlene inquired and Mark could detect the mocking note in her voice.
So could Viridian and Schweitzer, the big blond decided as he watched the suspicious scowls that came to their faces and the way in which they stared hard at her.
‘Yes,’ Viridian gritted.
‘Are you satisfied, Mr. Sparlow?’ Marlene went on, realizing that she had made a mistake and turning her gaze to the gambler.
‘I never thought to doubt your husband and Mr. Schweitzer, ma’am. Especially as they’ve taken my word that I was Pierre’s partner,’ Sparlow replied. ‘There’s only one thing more to be settled, gentlemen, then we can take a drink to his memory.’
‘What would that be?’ Viridian demanded, flickering a gaze which located the new owner’s three supporters.
‘The town needs a new constable,’ Sparlow pointed out. ‘And if you’re so minded, I’ll take it on.’
‘You?’ Schweitzer asked.
As mayor, the storekeeper knew that it would fall upon him to replace Hubric. However, he had not given the matter any thought and having a solution offered from such a source came as a surprise.
‘Why not?’ the gambler countered. ‘Running the saloon’s not going to take up so much of my time that I couldn’t handle it. There’s not that much work involved in being constable either. And most that there is gets caused in here anyway.’
‘The pay’s not high,’ Schweitzer warned.
‘That doesn’t worry me,’ Sparlow declared, but continued as he saw the expression on
the storekeeper’s face. ‘Although I won’t do it for free. The thing is, I feel something should be done, and without delay, to find out how Twickery managed to escape and kill Hubric.’
‘So do I!’ Viridian stated and, for once, he spoke with complete sincerity. Now he knew that Ribagorza was not involved, he shared the gambler’s desire to learn who had helped Twickery to escape. ‘I reckon we should take Mr. Sparlow’s offer, Bernie.’
‘All right,’ Schweitzer grunted, showing no great enthusiasm. ‘I’ll swear you in tomorrow morning, Mr. Sparlow.’
‘Tomorrow will suit me fine,’ the gambler confirmed cheerfully, waving to the table. ‘Now how about sitting down and taking a drink to Pierre’s memory and to my success in both my new ventures?’
Having noticed the storekeeper’s thinly veiled reluctance, Mark wondered what the others were making of it. Studying the Viridians and Sparlow, he decided that none of them were attaching any significance or importance to it. On recollecting Marlene’s comments at various times during their acquaintance, regarding the storekeeper’s parsimony, the big blond concluded that they were putting it down to his aversion to parting with money under any circumstances.
‘We’d like you to make finding out what did happen with Twickery your first chore, Mr. Sparlow,’ Viridian requested, after a waiter had collected their orders and the party was seated around the table. ‘Don’t you agree, Bernie?’
‘Yes,’ Schweitzer confirmed, but without excessive eagerness. ‘But I expect it will turn out that he tricked Hubric, not that he had outside help.’
‘That’s possible,’ Sparlow admitted and turned towards Marlene. ‘I don’t like to suggest this, seeing as he was in your kin, Mrs. Viridian, but he might have bribed Hubric to turn him loose, then killed him to avoid having to pay.’
‘That could be it!’ Schweitzer declared, with more vigor than he had previously been showing. Then he too glanced in an apologetic manner at the frowning brunette, ‘I’m sorry, Marlene, him being your kin and all, but—well—’
‘That’s all right, Bernie,’ Marlene gritted, more annoyed by the mocking way in which Gianna was eyeing her than for any other reason. ‘He wasn’t close kin and I know he was far from perfect.’
