A Reason to Die

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A Reason to Die Page 6

by William W. Johnstone


  “Somebody this town don’t wanna know,” Porter replied. “They showed up here day before yesterday, ridin’ up and down the street like they were lookin’ the town over. I told Frank Mosely it’s a good thing we ain’t got a bank ’cause it seemed like they were lookin’ for one to rob. Jim Squires said they sat around his place, drinkin’ whiskey and askin’ him all kinds of questions about the town. He said the few regular customers he had left when those three started gettin’ too loud, but he said he didn’t try to tell ’em to leave. He was scared they’d tear his place up. They rode outta town and we didn’t see hide nor hair of ’em yesterday, so we figured they’d moved on to raise hell where there was better pickin’s.” He made a violent shake of his head as if trying to clear them out of his brain. “And, damn, here they are back again. I don’t know what they’re lookin’ for. There ain’t nothin’ in Blue Creek to attract men like that. If they’re lookin’ for a wild town, they oughta go on down the river to Ogallala.”

  Perley could see how someone like the three men described could worry the merchants of a little settlement like Blue Creek, where the main focus at present seemed to be to build a church. He felt sorry for honest hard-working folks like Leonard Porter, but it was not his concern. That was a job for the sheriff. He would have been back on the trail to Lamar County, Texas, this afternoon, if he hadn’t promised to go to church in the morning. “Maybe they’ll see this ain’t a regular cow town like Ogallala or Dodge,” he offered. “Then they’ll move on to somewhere else.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Porter said as he hammered a horseshoe into shape on his anvil. “A couple of us went to talk to Marvin Kelly about ’em, but he said there wasn’t anything he could do about ’em. He said they ain’t broke no laws.”

  CHAPTER 4

  It was halfway to noon when Perley paid Leonard Porter and led his sorrel back to the stable, where he turned it into the corral with the other horses. He had a few minutes’ conversation with Frank Mosely, then checked to see how Buck and the paint were getting along. There was nothing else for him to do, and he was already regretting his commitment to Lawson Penny. He remembered something then that he could do to help pass the time. He needed a new bandanna. The last time he had seen his old one, it was stuffed in Billy Tuttle’s mouth as Billy was swinging from a crossbeam in the stable at Hat Creek Station.

  Before he left, he took a quick look in the storeroom where his belongings were piled to make sure nothing had been disturbed. He trusted Mosely, but he didn’t know who else might have reason to be in the room. Nothing seemed to have been disturbed, so he walked back toward the other end of the short street where a sign proclaimed BLUE CREEK MERCHANDISE.

  Inside, he was greeted by a heavyset man with gray hair and a bushy gray mustache to match. “Howdy, neighbor. What can I help you with?”

  “Howdy,” Perley returned. “I’m wonderin’ if you’ve got some bandannas for sale. Mine got chewed up a while back and I ain’t ever had a chance to find a new one.”

  “I’ll say I have,” the man behind the counter said. “Down at the end of the counter, there’s a whole box of ’em. Any particular color?”

  “I’m partial to red,” Perley replied.

  “Well, there’s two or three different red ones.” He looked Perley over as he walked to the end of the counter. “You’re new in town, ain’tcha?” When Perley said that he was, the man asked if he was riding with Wick Bass, the same question Jim Squires had asked.

  “Nope,” Perley answered. “I don’t know anybody by that name.”

  That seemed to put the merchant at ease. “Well, welcome to Blue Creek. My name’s Willard Spence. This here’s my store. ’Preciate you stoppin’ in. You gonna be with us a while, or are you just passin’ through?” Perley started to answer, but Spence suddenly turned around to face the front door when it opened and two men walked in. Forgetting Perley, Spence hurried to the other end of the counter to meet them.

  “We come to collect some money,” one of the pair announced.

  “What money?” Spence replied at once.

  “The money for protectin’ your store,” his partner replied. “Wick told you how much it was gonna cost to protect your business.”

  “He said I had till Monday to decide,” Spence said. “I ain’t got that kinda money layin’ around. It takes me a while to earn that much in the store.”

  “Things have changed,” the other man said. A tall, dark-complexioned man, thin as a knife blade, wearing a Colt .45 in a cutaway holster, riding low and tied to his thigh. His line of business was obvious. “Your insurance payment is due today.”

  Uh-oh, Perley thought, that doesn’t sound good. He continued to sort through the different colors of bandannas in the box, pretending not to notice. He soon became aware that the partner of the one doing the talking was eyeballing him. I swear, Perley thought, it seems like my brother’s right, I always manage to land in the middle of trouble. And it ain’t got nothing to do with me. I just want to buy a bandanna. He stole a glance at Spence.

  The store owner showed signs of anger more than fear of the lethal-appearing man confronting him. “I told your boss I didn’t make enough money to buy your so-called insurance. I’ve never heard of anybody buying insurance on anything in this part of the country. I told him I’d discuss this business with the rest of the town council and let him know Monday.”

  “Like I said, things have changed. We want the money now, or you’re gonna be without insurance to make sure nothin’ bad, like a robbery, happens to your store. You ain’t thinkin’ too smart if you ain’t got somebody to protect you.”

  “That sounds like a threat,” Spence said.

  “It’s more like a prediction,” the man said, a thin smile forming on his unshaven face. He cut his eyes over toward his partner and winked.

  “That’s right, Blackie, more like a prediction,” his partner said.

  “If somebody robs me, I’ll let the sheriff take care of it,” Spence said. “That’s what we pay him for. Why should I pay you?”

  “’Cause when you pay me, we keep you from gettin’ robbed in the first place,” the man called Blackie replied. “Pay me and your store, here, won’t catch on fire and burn down. How’s your sheriff gonna keep that from happenin’?”

  Uh-oh, Perley thought.

  Spence’s wife Ellie came in from the back room of the store at that moment. Recognizing the two men from a couple of days before, she stopped in the doorway in time to hear her husband’s response to his unwelcome guests—that he would talk to the rest of the town council, but he felt sure nobody was going to pay for insurance. “I think you gentlemen have your answer,” Ellie said with authority.

  “Lady, we’re talkin’ business here. You best go on back in the kitchen where you belong.”

  Perley saw Spence’s jaw tighten up in anger. He knew the shop owner was about to be provoked into an altercation with the two gunmen, a fight he was bound to lose, and it was too late to go for the sheriff. “The red one,” Perley suddenly blurted out and walked up to the counter, stepping between the two gunmen, waving a bandanna back and forth. “How much is this one?”

  “What the—Who the hell are you?” Blackie demanded and shoved Perley aside, causing him to bump into the tall thin gunman.

  “I wanna buy this bandanna and I was here before you and your impolite friend barged in here talkin’ all that insurance nonsense,” Perley insisted. Creating confusion was the only way he could think of at the moment to keep Spence, and maybe his wife, from getting shot.

  “Why you dumb son of a bitch!” the thin man exploded. “I’ll kick your ass from here to Sunday.” His hand dropped to rest on the handle of his Colt .45.

  “Seein’ as how tomorrow’s Sunday, you wouldn’t be kickin’ it very far, would you?” Perley goaded. “We’re gonna have to ask you and your friend to leave now. Your language ain’t fittin’ in the presence of a lady.” He was counting heavily on confusing the gunman to the point where he
would be undecided what to do and to whom. It seemed to be working. Blackie and his partner had turned their attention to him. The only problem with that was how to get out of the trouble Perley had invited upon himself.

  As soon as their attention was diverted from the shop owner, Perley noticed that Spence whispered something to his wife and pushed her toward the door. She slipped out the door unnoticed by Blackie and his friend. Perley hoped she was going for the sheriff.

  “Mister, are you lookin’ for somebody to settle your hash for you or are you just plain dumb as you look?” Blackie demanded. “I’ll tie that damn bandanna around your neck tight enough to shut your mouth for good.”

  “’Preciate the offer,” Perley replied, “but I don’t need any help with it. What’s the name of that insurance company you work for?” he asked, hoping to further confuse the gunmen.

  It seemed to serve the purpose, but it also served to infuriate Blackie even more. “None of your damn business,” he replied. “Now, if you don’t get the hell outta here, I’m gonna blow a hole through your head.”

  Stalling for time and hoping the sheriff was on his way, Perley backed a few steps away in case he was forced to defend himself. “There ain’t no call for you to get upset about it. Matter of fact, I ain’t got any insurance a’tall, and I was thinkin’ maybe you could give me some information about insurance.”

  Blackie’s partner, Red Johnson, gaped at Perley, fairly astonished. “This fool’s a bona fide idiot. We’d do him a favor if we put him outta his misery.” He reached for his pistol.

  Before he had time to draw it, he was stopped by a command from the front door. “Just hold it right there!” Sheriff Marvin Kelly ordered as he charged through the door, holding a double-barreled shotgun.

  Blackie turned, his hand poised to draw, but froze when he saw Perley’s .44 already in his hand. A moment later, Spence held his own shotgun from under the counter. Obviously outgunned, the two outlaws raised their hands.

  “What’s goin’ on here, Willard?” Sheriff Kelly asked. “Ellie said there was a holdup.”

  “They want money to protect my store,” Spence exclaimed. “That’s sure as hell a holdup, and they’re threatening to burn it down if I don’t pay.”

  “That’s a damn lie!” Blackie bellowed. “We never made no damn threat.”

  “He called it insurance,” Spence said. “Insurance against robbery or fire. If that ain’t a threat, I don’t know what is.”

  Kelly wasn’t sure what he should do. He’d never heard of anybody trying to extort money by calling it insurance. He looked at Perley, standing out of the way, his .44 back in his holster. “Who’s this? Is he with them?”

  “No,” Spence quickly responded. “That’s Perley Gates. He’s just a customer, tryin’ to help out.” Spence suddenly realized he might have been on the verge of being shot if Perley hadn’t stepped in with the bandanna. With a few minutes to think, he wondered if Perley had had that in mind. Maybe he wasn’t the bumbling fool Blackie thought he was.

  “Did they pull their guns and demand money?” Kelly asked Spence.

  “Well, no,” Spence said after hesitating a moment, then pointed at Blackie, “but he was just fixin’ to.”

  “Me and Red was fixin’ to leave,” Blackie said. “That’s all we was fixin’ to do. He already admitted I didn’t pull my gun. There weren’t no reason to call you up here.”

  “He’s got a point there,” Kelly said to Spence. “I can’t see that a crime was committed. Just two men arguing is what it looks like.”

  “Damn it, Marvin,” Spence complained. “He was fixin’ to pull his gun on me and that’s why Ellie ran to get you. I was just lucky you got here when you did.”

  Still undecided, Kelly turned to Perley. “What did he say your name was?” When Perley repeated it, Kelly paused a moment to make sure he heard right. “Perley Gates, huh? How ’bout it? Did it look to you like this man was gettin’ ready to pull his gun?”

  “Yes sir,” Perley answered. “There wasn’t any doubt in my mind that if you hadn’t got here when you did, there would have been some shootin’. That feller was reaching for that Colt he’s wearin’ when you came in the door.”

  Blackie’s cruel lips parted slightly to form the sinister smile he had confronted Spence with before. “Can’t hardly arrest a man for thinkin’ about shootin’ somebody, can you, Sheriff? If you could, I expect you wouldn’t have a jail big enough to hold ’em all.”

  “I reckon you’re right,” Kelly felt obligated to say, “but I might arrest you for disturbin’ the peace. I think it’d be a good idea if you and your friends would move on to some other town. Blue Creek ain’t got nothin’ for men like you. This town was built by honest, hard-working folks, and it ain’t a good place for drifters that didn’t come here to work and build the community. So you two get along now. I want you out of town before sundown. If you ain’t, you’ll be spendin’ the night in jail.”

  There was no reaction from either of the outlaws right away. Then Blackie’s sarcastic smile returned to his face. “That was a right pretty speech, Sheriff. Me and Red will leave the store and we’ll go tell our partner we’ve gotta be outta town before sundown. I doubt if he’s gonna like that.”

  “No, he ain’t gonna like that.” Red snickered.

  “Come on, Red,” Blackie said. “We don’t wanna cause these hard-workin’ folks no trouble.” They filed out of the store, but with a defiant swagger that promised trouble to come.

  When they had left, Spence turned at once to the sheriff. “Damn, Marvin. How can you just let those two walk away like that? You shoulda locked both of ’em up.”

  “I didn’t have any real reason to lock ’em up—not for just gettin’ into an argument with you—but I ran ’em outta town. That’s better ’n havin’ to feed ’em for a couple of days in my jail. That comes outta the town budget, and you folks ain’t been too anxious to pay for any of my expenses.”

  “Maybe you ran ’em outta town,” Spence came back. “We’ll see if they’re still here after sundown, won’t we? All I know is I’d better sleep here in the store tonight in case they decide to come back with a torch.”

  “I’ll be keepin’ an eye out for any trouble,” Kelly said. “I think they’ll move on out. There ain’t nothin’ here to make ’em wanna stay.” He nodded politely to Ellie then and walked out the door and stood watching the two outlaws until they went into the saloon.

  “How much?”

  “What?” Spence muttered, suddenly rocked from his intense speculation on the possibility of harm yet to come for him and his wife.

  “The bandanna,” Perley replied. “How much?”

  “Oh,” Spence responded, just then remembering Perley was there. “I usually get fifty cents for one like that.” Remembering then how Perley had luckily blundered into the middle of his argument with Blackie, he said, “But I’ll let you have it for a quarter.”

  “You can have it for nothing,” Ellie spoke up. She gave her husband a look of exasperation. “Twenty-five cents off for saving your life isn’t much reward, Willard.”

  “That’s all right, ma’am,” Perley said. “A quarter’s a more than fair price for a bandanna like this one. I like it better ’n my old one and I paid a dollar for it.”

  “Ellie’s right, Perley. You mighta kept me from gettin’ shot, whether you know it or not. That snaky lookin’ outlaw was fixin’ to pull his gun. I won’t ever forget the look in his eye. It was like lookin’ in the eyes of a dead man. Yes, sir, you take that red bandanna and I hope it does the job for you.”

  “Well, I surely appreciate it.” Perley nodded graciously to Ellie Spence and left the store, tying his new bandanna around his neck as he walked past the saloon on his way to the stable.

  * * *

  Wick Bass reached for the bottle and poured himself another drink of Jim Squires’ rye whiskey. “I’m thinkin’ it don’t make good sense to let you two wander around without somebody to watch you. Whose idea
was it to tell Willard Spence he needed insurance?”

  “It was my idea,” Blackie confessed. “I thought it was a pretty good idea, Wick. I never thought that fat store owner had the sand to tell me no. Things just went wrong all of a sudden. I was fixin’ to see if he still said no with a gun lookin’ him in the eyes, and some damn lunatic walked right in between us, wavin’ a red bandanna. Next thing I know, there’s a shotgun and a handgun leveled at me and Red, and the sheriff comin’ in the door with another shotgun aimed at us.”

  “I swear,” Wick fumed, “you just made our job a helluva lot harder than it oughta be. What the hell were you and Red doin’ in the store, anyway?”

  “I needed some cigarette papers,” Blackie said. “And by the time the sheriff run us outta there, damned if I didn’t forget ’em.”

  “You ain’t told him the good part,” Red spoke up. “That sheriff told me and Blackie to get outta town before the sun sets.” Knowing Wick’s temper, he was eager to hear his reaction. He wasn’t disappointed.

  “You two ain’t got the brains it takes to pour piss out of a boot,” Wick roared. “I wasn’t ready to let the sheriff know what we’re fixin’ to do. Now, thanks to you two jackasses, he’s tipped off that somethin’s gonna happen in his peaceful little town.”

  “Are we gonna get outta town, like he said?” Red asked. “I reckon he just meant me and Blackie, though. He didn’t say nothin’ about you.”

  “No, you damn fool,” Wick exploded. “Ain’t none of us gonna leave town. I told you when we rode in here that I plan to own this town. I wanted to find out if there’s anybody here that could stop us, and we’d take care of him first off. Now, after you two warned the sheriff that we’re fixin’ to hit all the businesses in town, we’re gonna have to take care of him before we do anything else.”

  “How we gonna do that?” Blackie asked. “Call him out in the street and settle it between him and me?” He naturally assumed that, since he was faster than Wick or Red.

 

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