“You hear the old one about the feller who was dining, and he says to the waiter, ‘There’s a fly in my soup.’ And the waiter, he says, ‘That’s an extra nickel for the meat, sir.’”
“You got a real sense of humor, Sheriff,” Plug said.
“Yep, that’s a knee-slapper,” Upward said.
I studied Plug some. “I guess you fellers are gonna stick around for a few days,” I said. “Well, that’s fine.”
“We’re making sure that little bastard gets strung up proper,” Plug said.
“Oh, he will be,” I said. “But you know, he sort of did a favor around here, plugging a pair of outlaws like the Jonas brothers.”
“They was outlaws, all right,” Plug said.
“There are warrants out of Colorado on that pair,” I said. “They were a pair of bad boys, for sure.”
“What were the warrants for?” Plug asked.
I sipped a little, now that I had their attention.
“Oh, a mess of stuff. Rustling. Bank robbery. Train robbery. And they was wanted for questioning in the death of a rancher down there. Seems the rancher caught someone making off with his cows, so maybe them two kilt him. Stuff like that.”
“Ain’t that interesting,” Plug said. “I didn’t know that part. Crayfish, he thought he was hiring a pair of gunslicks to keep the lid on around here, with Admiral Bragg pushing and shoving the way he did.”
“I ain’t got anything on Rocco, except he was palled up with the Jonas boys,” I said. “Maybe the boy did the world a favor.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, King Bragg wiped out two real bad fellers and maybe one more, fellers that would have turned on their boss, and maybe were fixing to get real mean with Crayfish.”
Plug, he suddenly turned real quiet. “No, nothing like that,” he said. “Crayfish, he can take care of himself.”
Upward smiled and nodded.
I sometimes ain’t the brightest candle in the lamp, but I got some instinct, and I knew from how this was going that I was poking into places where them two didn’t want me to travel. So I let it lay a minute.
“Them dodgers that come in the mail, half of them are so blurry they don’t help none. I get them all the time. The good ones, they got a photograph, but most just got a sketch and some information that don’t help at all. Like, the wanted man’s medium, and light haired, and got a scar over the left eyebrow and shifty eyes. How am I supposed to do something with that? You got any notions, Plug?”
“I’m not a lawman, Cotton. Me, I like to hear about reputations. Someone wants me to hire them on the T-Bar, half the time someone else knows something about the man. The boss keeps his ear to the ground too. He knows who he wants on the place.”
“I guess maybe he’s plumb glad them three got shot,” I said.
“Wouldn’t know about that,” Plug said swiftly.
Upward hastened to tell me how wrong I was. “Crayfish felt real bad about it, good men down, shot in cold blood by that punk kid. Crayfish, he paid for the burying and declared a day of mourning on the ranch, and I served free beer all that day of mourning. Sort of like a wake, Sheriff. Lots of T-Bar men in here, and a few tears. We hated to say good-bye to some T-Bar riders.”
“That so?” I asked. “I sort of thought them three were about as rotten as they come.”
“It don’t matter,” Plug said. “They was with the outfit, and we’re loyal to the brand, every last one of us. When anyone in the outfit goes down, we all pull together. Crayfish started a widow and orphan fund for them, put in ten dollars for starters, but no one claimed it. Them two Jonas brothers were loners, I guess.”
“They’d have to be loners, rustling their boss blind,” I said.
“Who says that?” Plug asked.
“It’s on the dodgers from Colorado,” I said. “They were makin’ a dime or two on the side, and not telling anyone about it. But they got caught, and then escaped.”
“You don’t say,” Plug said. “That’s sure news to me. You sorta wonder about people sometimes.”
“Was them two moving a few beeves out of the T-Bar?” I asked. That was sort of the jackpot question.
Upward and Parsons, they just glanced at each other. “Not as I know of,” Plug said. “I’d have heard of it. Mr. Ruble, he never asked me to look into it.”
“How come King Bragg put bullets into those two? Were they rustling beef from the Anchor Ranch?”
Plug, he just shrugged. “He just walked in, got himself a drink, and started pumping bullets. That’s what he had in mind before he set foot in here. He just walked in and pretty soon there was three dead T-Bar men, good hands, bleeding on the sawdust.”
“I don’t get it. How did he know them three were here?”
“Someone must have told him.”
“Who?”
“Beats me,” Plug said.
This whole thing didn’t add up as far as I could see. It all added up for the court, which is why Judge Nippers sentenced the boy to hang. But there were a lot of questions in my mind, and I sure wasn’t getting any answers.
“Sheriff,” Upward said, “you’re sniffing around the way a dog sniffs at vomit. Why? Just let it go, all right? The whole thing was tried, there were witnesses including me, and the jury convicted King Bragg of triple murder, and the judged sentenced him. Just let her go now, and get back to keeping the peace.”
There sure was an edge to Upward’s voice. Almost like he was commanding me. Almost like he was threatening, even though there wasn’t no threats that I could hear. He was just telling me to lay off, and I guess he was right. The thing had been worrying around in my head for days, and I needed to let it go.
But I knew I couldn’t. Things didn’t seem right. A boy was about to get himself hanged. And time was running out.
“Well, it’s Rocco that interests me,” I said. “I’m just not sure who he was.”
“He was just a drifting bum from back East,” Plug said.
“Why’d you hire him then?”
“For safety. Rocco never wore a gun. You never saw a short gun on him. But he’s the one I’d like to have with me in a saloon. He could cut someone up so fast they’d be dead before they knew they had a knife in ’em.”
“A knifer?”
“The best. You never saw a knife on him either, but he always had two: one sewn into his boot, and the other in a pouch hanging behind his neck under his shirt.”
“Why would Crayfish Ruble want a knifer on his payroll?” I asked.
“Beats me, Sheriff.”
“Castrating bull calves,” Upward said.
“That takes a knife fighter? It didn’t spare him from a bullet from King Bragg,” I said. “Now why’d the boy shoot him too?”
“Let it go, Sheriff.” That was Upward talking, and he was plain irritated.
“So why’d he die?” I asked.
No one said nothing. The question hung there. Plug Parson, he sipped his drink, and Upward, he polished his bar, and me, I just stood there waiting for some answer that didn’t come.
“Did Rocco get crosswise of anyone?” I asked.
Plug Parsons, he swilled the last of the drink down his gullet. “I’m going back to Rosie’s,” he said. “I come here for a good time, nice afternoon, and next thing I know the damned sheriff’s digging up old bones.”
I watched the straw boss hike his jeans up and walk out.
Upward, he got the bottle of red-eye from me, and put it on the back bar out of my reach, and turned his back to me. Things was getting sort of unfriendly at the Last Chance.
I left two bits on the bar and headed into the sunlight of late afternoon. The town was peaceful enough, but all them T-Bar men was keeping it peaceful. Maybe too peaceful. I got to thinkin’ about that little visit. Plug wasn’t even curious when I told him the Jonas brothers had a record. He must have known it. He didn’t ask to see the dodgers either. I wondered if Plug knew they had changed their name from Ramshorn to Jonas. Pl
ug sure was not surprised. Sammy wasn’t surprised. And strange to say, I wasn’t surprised that they weren’t surprised.
Back at the jailhouse and sheriff office, I seen that Rusty had taken over from Burtell and that things was peaceful enough.
“You been running around to bars and cathouses, I hear,” Rusty said.
“It sure was an education. Over at Rosie’s, Crayfish and Rosie were having a horizontal business conference, and over at the Last Chance, Plug Parson and Sammy Upward weren’t very happy when I started talking about them three that King Bragg shot. But I don’t know much else. You know anything?”
“Yeah, King wants to ask you a question.”
“I’ll go talk to him.”
The kid was peering through the bars.
“How many drinks does it take to knock someone out?” he asked.
“I sure don’t know,” I said. “Some fellers, they can drink all night and never even get fuzzy. Other fellers are flat on their ass after a couple.”
“One drink?”
“I never heard of one drink knocking anyone out,” I said.
“I only had one drink of ale at the Sampling Room that night,” he said.
“You sure?”
“One drink. Then I went over to the Last Chance, and Sammy Upward served me.”
“And after that?”
“I was lying on the sawdust. I think I got hit on the head.”
FIFTEEN
Critter was mad at me. When I entered his stall, he fired a left rear hoof at my groin. He sure knows how to hurt a guy.
“Cut it out. We’re going for a trip,” I said.
I started to brush him, but he leaned into me, pushing me against the plank wall, intending to break a few of my ribs.
“You’re dog food,” I said.
I kneed him away just before he splintered my whole rib cage. He laid back his ears and clacked his teeth.
“Try that again and I’ll leave you here,” I said.
That subdued him. He hated cooped-up life in there. He suffered in there. He rolled his eyes upward like a helpless wife in there. And in between, he plotted murder and mayhem. But the threat to leave him there wrought a new cheerfulness in him, and he settled for a swat across my face with his dung-soaked tail.
“That’s better,” I said.
I brushed him real good, threw the blanket on, and my saddle over that, cinched it up, wary of another hoof, and then I stuffed a bit in his mouth and slid the bridle over his ugly ears.
I backed him out into the aisle. He sighed, farted, dropped some apples, and we were ready to travel. Critter and I had been friends for half a dozen years.
The town would take care of itself this day. Rusty and DeGraff would man the sheriff office and jail, with shotguns at the ready. But I didn’t expect trouble. All them T-Bar men wanted was to make sure there was a hanging, and the prisoner didn’t get stolen away from us. But that wasn’t gonna happen.
I steered Critter out on Wyoming Street, and soon put Doubtful behind me. It was a nippy spring day, with a few razors in the wind, but that was fine with me. I get tired of city life pretty quick. I wasn’t sure I’d stay in Doubtful for long, but the pay was pretty fine and I got to sip some red-eye now and then, and look at horseflesh, and sometimes female flesh, which was better than once-a-month ranch paydays. I buttoned my canvas coat up tight and pulled my hat low against the gusty wind out of the snowy mountains.
Critter and me, we were going on a little exploration. As long as most all of them T-Bar men and Crayfish Ruble were camping in my metropolis, I thought I’d just go have a look at the T-Bar when there was no one but a couple of caretakers around there. I just wanted to see a few things. It wasn’t that I thought King Bragg was innocent, but things didn’t add up, and I’d hate to hang a feller who didn’t do what he was said to do. I still had a few days before the big event, so I thought I’d just poke around and see what could be seen. I didn’t much like it that the only witnesses to King Bragg’s killing spree of T-Bar men was other T-Bar men.
Critter, he was so happy to get out of jail that he was almost frisky. He kept wanting to run, but I reined him in.
“We got ten miles each way, feller,” I said.
But I let him settle into a jog that was easy on my ass-end and still ate up time. The T-Bar was up the valley, farther than the Anchor Ranch owned by Admiral Bragg, which was a bone of contention. Crayfish ached to be closer to town, and had designs on Bragg’s property so he could ride into town most any time and entertain the ladies. But Bragg had got here first, and had nabbed all the best land, which even had some well-watered hay meadow and a creek or two, leaving latecomers like Crayfish to settle the dry hills and long gulches.
It sure was peaceful. Even if the wind had an edge, the sun was bright and warm. I like to get out of town and see the crows flying when I need a little time away from people, who are usually at each other’s throats. Not that nature is peaceful. That hawk circling over there was pretty quick going to land on a vole or some such critter and have him for dinner. Nature’s the same as people when it comes to spilling blood, but I like the country better than the town anyway.
I steered past a mess of Anchor Ranch cattle. Bragg had started with them red shorthorns, and was trying to breed closer to Angus now. I steered toward a bunch that was all wearin’ the Anchor brand unmistakable. I continued up the road a piece and saw a horseman heading my way. Only it wasn’t male, judging from that big straw hat and the way the party sat the horse. I sort of dreaded what was coming. I guess Queen Bragg was the last person I wanted to see. She was a huffy sort, and probably would’ve tried the jailbreak her pa was cooking up, and besides, she was ornery and uppity too. But I thought I’d put up with it, seeing as how she was closing on me fast.
Sure enough, it was Queen, riding a blooded mare and wearing one of them split leather skirts so she could ride astride. I never did understand why women ride sidesaddle, and I sort of secretly was pleased to see Queen showing some sense. Well, she sailed right up and smiled.
“Howdy, Miss Bragg,” I said.
“Howdy yourself. You looking for something here?”
“Nope, just riding through.”
“Off to the Crayfish empire then.”
I wasn’t gonna tell her my business so I just stared.
“You want company?” she asked.
“No, miss, I’ll just go her alone.”
“Well, you’ve got company,” she said, steering that blooded horse in beside me.
“I’m doing fine alone, miss, so you just get along now and take the morning air, and I’ll be on my way.”
“You’re stuck with me.”
I surrendered a little. “Only until we get to the T-Bar range,” I said. “This is your turf, so I’ll somehow manage to survive the next mile or two if I try real hard and you don’t try no more jailbreaks.”
She laughed, damn her. How do you chase off some woman like her without threatening to shoot her and the horse? She had me roped and tied, and she knew it.
She settled in beside me, and I could tell she was eyeing me out of the corner of her eyes, but I just stayed real stony. I wasn’t gonna bend an inch.
“I’m sorry about what happened in town,” she said. “It wasn’t my idea or my will, but my father made me.”
“Made you what?” I asked just as cold as I could.
“Made me smuggle.”
“Smuggle what?”
“A loaded two-shot derringer, a hacksaw blade, a file, a knife, and a ball of cord.”
“You had all that stuff under…down there?”
“In my skirts. I was a walking arsenal because I also had a spare revolver if my father needed one.”
“You was hauling iron, miss. I should have pinched you.” I didn’t like how I said it. “I mean, arrested you.”
She smiled. “Maybe pinched would have been better.”
“Now see here, Miss Queen, I’m a proper sheriff.”
She lau
ghed, and I was plumb pissed off.
“I should have arrested you and had you searched.”
“You could have searched me without even asking, Cotton.”
“Lady, you stop your nag right there and I’m riding ahead, and don’t you follow.”
I never got invited to search a woman before, and I don’t have the smarts to deal with it, so I just got huffy, which seemed to work, at least for a few moments.
She followed, and then caught up, pushing her nag until it was beside mine. I scowled at her some, but what’s a feller to do. Queen, she had a faint smile twitching her lips a little.
“Is King safe?” she asked.
“I think so. All them T-Bar riders just want to make sure he’s, ah, sent away. They ain’t trying to bust in. Truth is, Miss Bragg, they’re making sure you and your pa don’t spirit the boy away.”
“He’s innocent, you know.”
“No I don’t know. But I’m poking around some.”
“Is that what you’re doing now?”
“I don’t think it’s your business, miss.”
“If you are, maybe I can help.”
“No, when we get to the T-Bar line, I’m crossing and you’re staying put.”
“I ride the T-Bar range all the time. No one ever bothers me. That’s because I’m me. I know some things to show you.”
“Like what?”
“Unmarked graves. New brands that aren’t registered in the brand books.”
“No, that don’t have any bearing on King shooting three T-Bar men.”
“But they do. The brands are all on mavericked calves.”
“What’s that got to do with anything, girl?”
She absorbed my tone, and rode quietly beside me, saying nothing. Critter, he didn’t like that blooded mare beside him and snapped now and then. But the day was too fine for anyone to stay ornery, including a horse who’d been pining for sunshine and grass.
We got to the T-Bar line. This was still pretty much open range, but there was a gate and a drift fence here. I got down and opened the gate. She rode through.
“Hey! This is where we part company,” I said.
She didn’t budge.
I turned Critter, reached down and grabbed the bridle of that blooded horse of hers, and led it through the gate. Then I got off Critter to close the gate, but next I knew, she was back on T-Bar range. This was getting tiresome.
Savage Guns Page 10
