The Devil's Trail

by Robert J Conley

  “It’s Dick Cherry, Kid. Open up.”

  I did, and he come in and seed me all nekkid like that with a cigareet in my mouth and a gun in my hand. I bolted the door back and went back over to the bed and set again.

  “Looks like you’ve turned your nights and days around,” he said.

  “I reckon so,” I agreed, and I picked up the glass and tuck me another sip. “What the hell’re you up to?”

  “Mostly killing time,” he said. “Waiting for you to come back around. I did do some investigating.”

  “Of what?”

  “Well,” he said, “Clem Dawson and his brothers didn’t spend too much money here, and we didn’t find too much on his brothers, so he must have most of that Fosterville bank money still on him.”

  “That’s good,” I said.

  “But maybe not for long. He rode out of here heading south.”

  “I told you he was a-thinking about going to Houston.”

  “Yeah. But just about a two day ride south of here is a place called Devil’s Roost. It looks like any other frontier town. Even has a sheriff’s office and a jail. But it’s an outlaw hangout. A safe haven for men on the run. The only thing is, it costs them to lay over there. If Dawson decides to stop over in Devil’s Roost, he could use up that bank money in a short while.”

  “We got to get him first, then,” I said. “That’s all.”

  Ole Dick, he shuck his head. “It’s too late for that. We’ve already wasted a day. There’s no way we can catch him before he gets there.”

  “Well, maybe we can ketch him in that there town and get his ass afore he’s spent too much a the money.”

  “What do you think he’ll do if he sees you riding into Devil’s Roost?”

  “Well, I—”

  “Outlaws are the law in Devil’s Roost. They’ll take his side. Especially if he’s paying.”

  “So what’re we going to do?” I asked him. “Just give up on it?”

  “No. I mean to help you keep your promise to your favorite sheriff, and I mean to split the reward with you for the return of that money.”

  “But how in the hell’re we going to get his ass outa that there Devil’s town a outlaws?”

  “I don’t think he ever got a good look at me,” Dick said. “We’ll ride on down there and make us a camp just outside of Devil’s Roost. You’ll stay there, and I’ll go into town. I’ll try to find a way to lead him out in your direction. We’ll take him out there.”

  “How you going to get him outa town?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’ll have to think about it. We have a long ride ahead of us. There’ll be plenty of time for thinking.”

  As late in the day as it was, we packed up and tuck to riding south. It seemed to me like I’d been on a trail like that most a my growed life, and I was a-getting kindly tired of it, but I never grumbled none about it to ole Cherry. We rid along for miles without saying nary word to one another, but just ever’ now and then, one of us would say something. We was a-going along like that whenever ole Cherry, he said, “I know. I’ll tell Dawson that I heard about you getting his brothers. I was there in Snake Creek. I’ll get his interest that way.”

  “And if he don’t kill you dead, you’ll know that he never seed you during the shooting.”

  “That’s right. And then I’ll say that I know you’re still on his trail, and I know where you’re camped, but I’ll say that I won’t lead him to you unless he comes with me alone. I’ll tell him you got the reward money for his brothers on you, and I don’t want to split it too many ways. How’s that sound?”

  “It might could work like that,” I said.

  We didn’t talk no more till we found us a place to camp for the night, and then we fixed us up a place to sleep and a place to cook. We looked to our horses, and then we et. We set up and talked over ole Cherry’s plan some more before we went off to sleep. The next morning, we was up early. We whomped us up a breakfast, and I thunk about ole Zeb and his good biscuit, and I sure did wish that he was along with us just then. Them biscuit sure woulda hit the spot all right. Then I wondered what ole Zeb would a thunk about me having another new pard, and I figgered he wouldn’t take to it none too kindly. Anyhow, we finished up and cleaned up and hit the trail again.

  Wasn’t much happened the rest a that day other than us a-moving south, but ’cept I tuck note a the fact that whenever we had left outa Snake Crick, we had been riding along over flat, dry prairie, and then the closer we come to that there Devil’s place, the more greener things was a-getting and then a little more rollery, and along toward evening we was actual in some little green hills and valleys with some clumps a trees around here and there. It was a actual kindly pretty place, and I thunk about it being like that and at the same time a-hiding a outlaw town. By and by we seed it.

  We come on top of a hill, and there it was all nestled down in a little valley real snug-like. It didn’t look like no outlaw town, just only a ordinary town is all. “There it is, Kid,” ole Dick said. “Now we got to find you a spot for a camp.”

  Well, we come acrost a nice one. It was about halfway up the hill there a-looking down on that there Devil’s thing, and it were kindly set back in the hillside. It weren’t no cave nor nothing like that. Just a place where the side a the hill kindly sunk back in on itself. I could rest easy and have me a view a the whole town. I could see anyone a-coming or a-going from in or out a there. We fixed up a camp, and then ole Cherry, he decided that he was a-going on in.

  “You ain’t a-going to wait till morning?” I asked him.

  “Evening’s better,” he said. “Dawson’s more likely to be up, probably drinking in the saloon. If I ride in there in the morning, I might have to wait half the day before I set eyes on him.”

  I reckoned that he was right about that, and so I didn’t argue none with him. I just let him go on. Then I fixed my own self a meal and et it, and it weren’t hardly no good for nothing but just to fill up my belly was all. I drunk me some coffee, and then I wrapped my ass up in my blanket and kindly snuggled back against the side a the hill where I could be real comfy but still watch the town down yonder below me. I guess I dropped off to sleep like that.

  Well, I come awake with a start sometime in the night. It were dark all right. My little bitty fire was just only some red ashes, so I got up and throwed some sticks on it. The night was some cool. Then I got to thinking about old Cherry a-bringing that Dawson up the hill and him with the thought in his mind a-killing me dead on accounta his two brothers. I tried to think what was I a-going to do. Me and ole Cherry, we had talked all about him a-going into the town and tricking Dawson into coming out to my camp and all that, but we hadn’t never even thunk about my end a the deal.

  Final I come up with a idee, and I went and got a extry shirt outa my saddlebag, and I tuck to stuffing it with grass and leaves and such. I was glad then that I was so skinny, ‘cause it didn’t take too much stuffing. I propped that shirt up right there where I had been a-sleeping, and I set my hat on top of it. Then I throwed the blanket up like as if it was a-covering up my legs and feet. I walked way off back from it and tuck a look, and I was kindly proud a my work what I had did. I figgered it oughta fool him long enough. ’Course I didn’t have no way a knowing how long it would be afore ole Cherry was to talk Dawson into coming up there with him, and what that meant was that I didn’t have no idee how long I was a-going to have to lurk around a-watching and waiting. I was glad, though, that I had me such a good view a the town down yonder.

  I went on ahead and boiled me up some more coffee, and I rolled me a cigareet and poured me out a cup a coffee and set my ass down on the other side a the fire from that there dummy I had fashioned up. I set down to smoke and sip coffee and wait. I tell you what, I surely did get bored a-setting there. I drunked up all a the coffee I had made, and I smoked up several cigareets. I had to get up twice to take a leak. I kept a-watching down at that town, and no one was a-coming. I had me a good view, too, like I told yo
u. Hell, I could see ole Dick’s horse there where he had tied it in front a the saloon.

  I was a-feeling some drowsy again when I noticed that it were damn near daylight. Well, I guess it was long about dawn. I figgered that ole Dawson for sure and maybe even old Dick was a-sleeping it off by that. I was considering letting my own self drop back off. Then I seed ole Dick come outa the saloon down yonder. I could tell him by his black clothes, and he had someone with him, too. I reckoned it had to be ole Dawson. Dick clumb up on his horse, and that other feller what I was kindly sure must be ole Dawson, he mounted up on a horse, too, and they turned to ride outa town coming on out in my direction. I tensed up ready for action off to a side in the kindly dim shadders and waited. I didn’t really think that I’d need to, but I went and drawed out my ole Colt anyhow and I cocked it. I was ready to kill.

  I lost sight a Dawson and Cherry for just a bit whenever they come right to the bottom a the hill, but I could hear them a-talking, and I could hear their horses a-clomping along on the way up to my little ole camp. By and by, I seed them again, and they was real close that time. They was right on top a the camp, and they stopped. I could see ole Dawson a ’looking at that there dummy I had made.

  “Kid,” he said, and he didn’t sound none to glad to see me. “Kid, get your ass up outa there.” ’Course, I never moved. I mean that there dummy never. I seed Dawson give ole Cherry a somewhat puzzled kinda look, and then he looked back towards that dummy. “Wake up, Kid, damn it.” I never and then he hauled out his shooter and fired a shot into the dirt just beside the dummy. It was meant to skeer me awake a course. Dawson looked at Cherry again. “What the hell’s wrong with him?”

  Cherry give a shrug. “He must be a sound sleeper.”

  “Say,” said Dawson, “what’re you trying to pull?”

  He shot that dummy then, and he shot it twice again. I was a-counting. He had three shots left. Two if he only loaded five for reasons a safety, but I figgered ole Clem Dawson for a kinda careless feller, so I told myself he had three left. He turned the shooter on Cherry then.

  “Drop your gun real easy,” he said.

  Cherry done what he was told, and then Dawson made him get offa his horse and walk over to stand beside the dummy. He told Cherry to pull the hat offa the dummy and Cherry done it. Then Dawson seed that dummy for what it for real was, and he looked all around hisself real quick and nervous-like.

  “Where the hell’s the Kid?” he said.

  “The last I saw him, he was right here,” said ole Cherry.

  “Your scheming something up against me with the Kid.”

  “I told you the truth,” Cherry said. “I saw the Kid here in this camp, and he told me he was coming after you. He had reward money in his pockets that he got for your brothers.”

  I thunk it was kindly clever of ole Cherry to tell just only the truth the way he done. ’Course, he left out some things in the telling, but what he told was the truth.

  “I think I’ll just kill you,” Dawson said.

  I stood up and stepped out, and my shooter was pointed right straight at ole Dawson. “You might want to kill me first,” I said.

  He turned quick, but he never shot. He faced me, and his shooter was a-pointed at me. Now here was a new kinda gunfight, all right. There we was a-standing and facing each other, both of us with our guns out and pointed and cocked. It weren’t going to make no difference who was the fastest one on the draw, ’cause both guns was done drawed. It didn’t make no difference how good a shot a feller was neither, on accounta at that there distance, hell, ole Sparky couldn’t a-missed.

  “What’re we a-fixing to do, Clem,” I said. “Kill each other?”

  “What’d you come here for, you skinny little son of a bitch?”

  “I come to take you back to jail or else to kill you in the trying,” I said. “Whyn’t you just toss that there gun down and come along peaceful?”

  “What do you care?”

  “I rid outa Fosterville with the posse after you robbed the bank there,” I told him. “Jim Chastain’s a friend a mine.”

  “Chastain? The sheriff?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Damn you. You killed my brothers.”

  “You’re at least half right about that,” I said. “You going to give it up?”

  “No.”

  Just then ole Cherry moved, and Dawson spun around to see what he was a-doing. Cherry put his hands up in the air, and Dawson spun back towards me, and I pulled the trigger. My bullet smashed into his chest, and he jerked and twitched some, and then he fell over backwards and slud down the hillside a little ways. I went down there after him to make sure that he was deader’n hell, and I went through his pockets but I never come up with nothing more than pocket change. I tuck it anyhow. Then I went on back up to the camp and ole Cherry was just a-picking up his shooter from off the ground.

  “He’s dead,” I said. “He didn’t have no money to speak of on him, neither.”

  I reckon the two of us had the same idee at the same time then, on accounta both of us walked straight over to ole Dawson’s horse, me on one side and Cherry on t’other, and we each opened up a flap a them saddlebags and shoved our hands down in them. The both of us come up empty, and we stood there a-staring across that horse’s ass at each other for a minute without saying nothing. “You want some coffee?” I said.

  We went over to the fire and I set on some more coffee to boil. Then we set acrost from each other. “Well,” Cherry said, “that was the last of the Dawsons.”

  “Yeah, but where the hell’s that bank money?”

  “Dawson had him a room down in Devil’s Roost. It could be in there.”

  “We’re going to have to get our ass in there somehow and search for it,” I said.

  “That won’t be easy. Not in that den of renegades. And if they find out that he’s dead, they’ll be searching his room themselves.”

  “Then we got to search it first and afore they find out that he ain’t nothing but a corpus no more,” I said. “How we going to go about it?”

  “Hell, Kid, I don’t know.”

  I poured us up some coffee and handed a cup to ole Dick. I tuck a sup outa mine, and it were hot all right. It was a good time a morning for it, though. I got to craving some eggs and ham and stuff. Special some a ole Zeb’s biscuit.

  “Look,” Dick said, “now that Dawson’s dead, no one down there knows you. Right?”

  “I s‘pose that’s right,” I said. “But then, I don’t know who’s all down there. There could be someone what knows me. Them Goddamned Hookses and Piggses seem to show up ever’where, and they always knows me. But I guess it wouldn’t matter if they was to know me. I ain’t a wanted man right now, but I been one a couple a times in my life.”

  “All right,” Cherry said. “Let’s just ride on down in there together and get us rooms for the night. We can get us a good breakfast, and then we can sort of snoop around. Find out where Dawson’s room is and look for a chance to sneak in there and search it.”

  Well, I couldn’t think a no better idee, and the thought of a real breakfast did sound good to me. I stood up and commenced to kicking dirt all over the fire.

  “All right,” I said. “Let’s do her.”

  Chapter 8

  Well, now, I reminded myself that me and ole Cherry was a-riding into that there Devil’s Pit like a couple a wanted outlaws, you know, pretending to be such, that is, and so I went and put on my meanest look as we rid in on the main street. I narrered my eyes down to just slits, and I never looked one way nor t‘other, just only straight on ahead, but then, if there was to be anything suspicious-like a-going on around me, why, I could still catch a glimpse of it outa the corner a my eyeballs. Now, we done like any respectable outlaws would a did just a-coming into any ole town. We stopped our horses right there in front a the saloon, what was called Devil’s Hangout, and we tied up there at the hitch rail and went on inside, still not a-bothering to look to one side nor t’other.<
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  As we walked on into that there saloon, though, I could tell that folks was a-eyeballing us all right. They was a-looking at us from ever’ direction. Well, we acted like as if we never noticed nothing about it, though, and we just bellied right on up to the bar and called out for whiskey. We got it brung to us pretty quick, too. We paid for the bottle, and the barkeep said, “You’re strangers in town.”

  It weren’t no question, so I never bothered giving out with no answer, but ole Dick Cherry, he popped up and said, “I was in here last night. I met up with ole Clem Dawson right in here. I thought you might’ve noticed.”

  “Oh, yeah,” the barkeep said. “Now that you mention it, I did see you with Dawson. Say, where is ole Clem?”

  “We rode out to meet up with the Kid here, me and Clem, that is,” Cherry said, “but when we found him, Dawson said he had other business. He wouldn’t tell us what it was. He just rode on off headed north. Said he’d be back late tonight. He said it would be all right if we were to bunk down in his room here till he gets back. Maybe you could tell us where that would be.”

  “I don’t know about that,” the barkeep said. “Letting someone into another man’s room. You’ll have to talk to Wheeler about that.”

  “Oh? Where will we find this Wheeler?”

  “You boys are strangers, ain’t you? Mr. Wheeler’s right over yonder having a drink with those two boys in the Montana peak hats.”

  Me and ole Cherry both looked over where the barkeep was a-indicating, and we seed the two Montana peaks, all right. There was a feller a-setting at the same table with them what had to be Wheeler. He was wearing a black suit with a white shirt and a vest and a black string tie. He was a stocky feller, and he wore a handlebar mustache. His front hairline was well back on top a his head, and he was a smoking a ceegar, just a-clouding up the air all around him. He had the look of a gambler to me, or maybe a lawyer.