Quiet Town

by J. T. Edson

  “I’m arresting you,” Maggie said, eyes on the big blonde.

  “You are, are you?” Bearcat Annie spit the words out. “Why you fat cow, I’ll teach you to come in here. Throw ‘em out, girls!”

  Roxie Delue swung a hard little fist as a red headed dancehall girl lunged at her, feeling it smash into the girl’s nose. Then Roxie felt as if the top of her head was being torn off as another girl lunged in. The centre of the room was a mass of screaming, fighting women.

  Eeney and Bearcat Annie hurled at each other. Eeney’s fists were clenched and stabbed out hard but Bearcat Annie was impervious to pain. Her clawing hands dug deep into Eeney’s hair and tore at it. A scream of pain tore from Eeney’s lips, she forgot her fist-fighting training. Taking a double handful of the other woman’s piled up blonde hair she drove her fingers in until they scratched Bearcat Annie’s scalp, then pulled. Round they swung, clear of the others and staggered to one side screaming in rage.

  The gunmen yelled their delight and approval, watching the fight which was to become a classic of the old West. The battle in Bearcat Annie’s saloon was to be a legend and talked of the length and breadth of the West, from Texas to California. Miners, cowhands, soldiers and every other denizen of the open range would tell of it.

  Roxie and Maggie were swamped over by screaming, clawing, kicking girls. One thing saved them. In the wild mêlée there was no chance of sorting out who was who. It became a case of tearing the nearest hair, kicking, punching, clawing or slapping wildly around, striking the nearest person. Roxie felt her frock rip as she tore the skirt from a screaming girl. It was a wild tangle of flailing arms and legs, screaming mouths, interspersed with ripping noises as clothes were torn. Then Maggie was on her feet, swinging round with a couple of clawing girls hanging to her. Her dress went, ripped off as the girls staggered back. She swung a wild blow which knocked a third girl backwards into the bar. The girl smashed into the polished wood and stood for an instant, her eyes glazed, then she stumbled forward into the wild tangle once more.

  Bearcat Annie and Eeney reeled across the room, smashing into the bar and staggering off again. They stopped tearing at hair and swung wild slaps and punches which rocked each other. Bearcat’s clawing hands gripped the neck of Eeney’s frock and ripped at it, swinging Eeney and as the gingham tore sent her on to a table. The big blonde hurled after Eeney, landing on top of her but the table’s legs gave way and dumped them on the ground once more where they rolled and thrashed in a wild tangle of flailing arms and waving legs. Across the floor they rolled, first one, then the other getting on top. They hit the bandstand and still clinging to each other’s hair got first to their knees, then to their feet. Eeney tried to push the other girl backwards; they hit the bandstand and Bearcat Annie was thrust on to it. She fell backwards and brought Eeney down with her. Eeney pushed the blonde backwards, and Annie landed on a stool, breaking the guitar which lay on it. She braced herself and lunged forward, her lowered head ramming into Eeney. Back they went, crashing into the piano. Eeney’s fingers closed on Annie’s head, dragging it down; they strained against each other, gasping and squealing. The piano started to move backwards as their weight came down on it. Smashing the flimsy rail around the side of the bandstand the piano went over, crashing to the floor with a hideous discordant jangle of the keys. Eeney and Bearcat Annie went with the piano; they crashed on to it and rolled over it, landing on the floor again. It was a brutal, savage fight with no holds barred. Bearcat Annie was well versed in this style of fighting; in her life she had been compelled to defend herself in other fights like this. Their frocks were gone by the time they got to their feet; both were naked to the waist but neither took any notice of it.

  Coming to their feet again they staggered apart, gasping for breath. For an instant they stood like that, then hurled at each other once more. Eeney struck out with wild fists now, feeling them strike home, then Annie lashed out back. Their fists landed home hard; Annie felt blood running from her nose, her right eye puffing up, Eeney, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, her left eye starting to discolour, closed again, hands clawing out. Round and round they swung, lost their balance and hit the floor once more.

  Up on the balcony Dusty Fog led his men forward and down the stairs. They held their guns but the gunmen did not see them. Every one of these gunmen was completely absorbed in watching the sight of the battling women; they could pay no attention to anything else. Dusty wondered if he could take the men but there was the danger that the fighting women might get in his way. He must wait until there was no danger. By his side Mark Counter watched Eeney and Bearcat Annie as they rolled over and fought; he had to hold himself from shouting to Eeney to use her fist-fighting skill instead of trying to match the big blonde in her own style of brawling.

  The wild tangle of women broke up. Roxie clung to and locked one arm around the neck of a woman. She rolled right over the other woman and fought with her, not realising it was Maggie Bollinger she was tangling with. It was Maggie who recovered first. She yelled at Roxie and the wild light died in the girl’s eyes. They got to their feet; other women were still fighting with each other. Maggie went forward, scooped up a pair of them and crashed their heads together, dropping them again. They lay limp and then the other women were up and the wild tangle joined once more. Roxie rocked under the impact of a wild, fist-swinging attack, her own fists lashing back.

  Maggie staggered into the bar, a girl rushing at her. She ducked and caught the girl by the legs, heaving and straightening. The girl went over the bar out of sight and Maggie hurled herself at the three remaining girls who were ganging up on Roxie.

  Bearcat Annie and Eeney fought their way back to the bar. Annie locked her arms round the other woman’s bare waist, squeezing hard. Eeney gasped in pain as she was crushed, her fists pounding at the blonde’s face. The was enough steam behind the blows to make Bearcat Annie scream and tighten her hold. Then Eeney dug her fingers deep into the tangle of blonde hair and pulled with all her strength.

  Annie howled like a train going into a tunnel. She swung Eeney round and lifted, throwing her on to the bar top. Eeney’s feet came up into the blonde’s face and pushed her hard, then Eeney fell over the bar and landed on the dance-hall girl. The girl pushed Eeney over and got to her feet to attack her. It was a mistake. Bearcat Annie caught up a chair and seeing a head come up ran back and brought it smashing down. The girl gave a cry and went down again, Eeney forced herself up; the big blonde was leaning on the bar, gasping in pain and exhaustion. Eeney caught the woman’s hair, jerked her head up and slammed it down on to the bar. Annie was dazed by the blow but her own hands laced into Eeney’s tangled hair. She braced her foot against the bar and pulled. Eeney was forced to go over the bar, she felt as if the very scalp was being torn from her head. She was dragged over and on to the floor, hooking her leg behind Bearcat Annie’s and bringing her down.

  It was even worse now, Bearcat Annie fought with savage rage, her weight counting against Eeney. She threw a leg over the German girl, holding her down by sheer weight, then her hands gripped Eeuey’s hair and tried to smash the head on to the floor. Eeney braced her neck muscles trying to hold back the shattering force of the blows, but her head hit the floor hard. Her head was spinning and she could hardly keep up her strength to try and fight back, her hands weakly pushed at the heavy weight on her.

  At the bar the rest of the women were all but spent; only two dancehall girls were left on their feet, struggling weakly with Roxie and Maggie. The big woman was just about ready to collapse, so were the others. Then Maggie saw her chance, she gripped Roxie by the hair with one hand, the other digging fingers into the back of one of the girls’ neck. Then with all her strength she smashed the two skulls together, with the third girl’s head between them. The girl moaned and went down in a limp heap, once more Maggie crashed the heads together and let Roxie and the last girl drop. She swayed herself and almost fell.

  Bearcat Annie, still kneeling astride Eene
y and trying to smash the other woman’s head to the floor, looked up. She saw Maggie was the last woman on her feet and knew she must try and finish the black-haired woman off. She knotted her left hand in Eeney’s hair and smashed a brutal right to her face, let her head flop back to the floor. Gripping the edge of a nearby table, the blonde tried to pull herself up. The table tipped over and Bearcat Annie dragged herself up by the edge: She swayed on her feet, sobbing in exhaustion as she started for Maggie Bollinger who stood with her legs braced apart and mouth hanging open.

  Maggie was exhausted. She had taken the brunt of the attack by the saloon girls and was only barely conscious of what was happening. She saw the big saloon keeper standing but her mind would not focus or give her aching body any instructions. Bearcat Annie stumbled forward then as she came into range swung a wild haymaker. It smashed like a club into the other woman’s cheek. Maggie’s head rocked to one side, snapping over hard. She reeled back, smashing into the bar. Her legs gave way and allowed her to slide down until she sat on the floor with her back against the bar. Bearcat Annie looked down, swaying and almost falling, she gripped the bar to hold herself up and lifted her foot to stamp down on Maggie.

  Laying on the floor Eeney felt pain welling over her; from head to foot she seemed to be a mass of bruises and pain. Then she sat up, dazedly, seeing Bearcat Annie staggering at Maggie. Weakly she reached out then gripped the edge of the table to drag herself up on to her knees. Her bruised bloody face showed her exhaustion, her eyes glassy. Through the swirling mists which whirled around her as she tried to get up she saw something. Hanging to the table Eeney’s eyes managed to focus on the stairs, at Mark Counter. The big Texan had holstered his guns and was watching her, he saw her eyes meet his and clenching his fist swung it as if punching. Eeney gave a gasp, she recognised Mark even though her mind was so dazed that it would hardly function. Then she realised, this was the man who had help her beat Russian Olga, telling her how to handle the other woman. She saw him make the punching motion once more and in a flash it came to her what he meant. She had fought Bearcat Annie under the big blonde woman’s own terms instead of using the skill she had gained while travelling with Mundy’s troupe. That was why she got whipped. Bearcat Annie knew more about all-in rough-house fighting than Eeney did.

  It took all Eeney’s will-power to shove herself to her feet, she could barely stand. The watching gunmen yelled with delight, they had thought the fight was over, now it looked as if the girl was going to carry on. They admired Eeney for her sheer guts and yelled the encouragement to her. Eeney was oblivious to it all and in her head there seemed to be a roaring. Yet she kept her feet and closed with Bearcat Annie who hung on to the bar and stamped weakly at Maggie, missing the first time. Eeney caught Bearcat Annie’s bare shoulder and turned the other woman round, then swung her fist. She tried to keep up her fists in the way she had learned from Mundy, swinging again, rocking the big blonde’s head back. Bearcat Annie felt the punch, it slammed into her mouth. With a moaning scream Bearcat Annie lunged forward but Eeney backed off, swinging a left then a right which rocked Bearcat Annie’s head again.

  Still holding her fists clenched Eeney followed the staggering blonde, at every step slamming another punch into the bloody face. Bearcat Annie was helpless now. Her hands flopping limp and helpless at her sides as the punches rocked her head from side to side and staggered her back across the room. Eeney shot out a right, her arm driving the fist full into Bearcat Annie’s mouth. The big woman looked as if she was running backwards and hit the batwing doors, they parted just enough to allow her to go half out. Then she hung here, her arms over the top of the doors, holding her up.

  Eeney almost fell; she clung to a table to help keep her feet. Behind her the gunmen crowded forward eager to see the end of the fight. Yet Eeney did not hear them. Sobbing in pain and exhaustion she staggered forward. There was only one thing she could see, Bearcat Annie’s face, blood running from nose and mouth, one eye blackened, the other swelling and discoloured. Bearcat Annie hung there, helpless, mouth hanging open. She did not even know Eeney was coming nearer. The German woman halted, her breasts heaving and her fist clenching. She ached in every inch of her body, the agony of her hair, which felt as if the roots were on fire, the raw taste of blood in her throat, they were going now, sinking into numbness. With every ounce of her weight behind her she swung her fist. It was a beautiful punch, thrown with swing and power behind it. Bearcat Annie’s head rocked, the batwing doors swung open and the big blonde went backwards. Her feet shot from under her and she fell on to her back in the street. Eeney staggered after her, out of the doors. Her legs were buckling as she crossed the sidewalk, down to the street and dropped forward, sinking on to her knees, astride the unconscious Bearcat Annie. Eeney’s hands supported her for a moment, then as men and women came running towards her everything went black.

  CHAPTER FOUTEEN

  Rusty Willis Kills A Man

  DUSTY FOG and his deputies watched the fight in silence, only regretting they could not give their vocal encouragement to their three friends. The gunmen were completely absorbed in watching and not one of them made any attempt to turn around. Then as Eeney started to knock the battered Bearcat Annie across the floor Dusty tensed and nodded to his men. The other four were ready, they could see the time was fast coming for them to take a hand. Bearcat Annie and Eeney went through the door and with a shattering rebel yell Dusty Fog leapt from the stairs on to the floor, Mark Counter following him. The Ysabel Kid put a hand on the banister, vaulted over and landed catlike behind the gunmen, his rifle held hip high but ready to use.

  The gunmen came round, hands fanning down towards guns, then freezing as they saw the five young men behind them. It was like Dusty had told Kennet, a good man with a gun knew just when to move and when he must stand immobile. It was time to stand right now. The hired guns knew who they were up against and knew that although they outnumbered the Texans they were still beaten.

  “All right, throw them high!” Dusty snapped.

  Any thought of hostile action was ended definitely by the arrival of Stone Hart and the other Wedge crew, entering the saloon with guns held ready. Dusty nodded his approval and thanks to Stone Hart, then glanced at the gunmen. There was no rancour in his look, these were just hired men and of no importance to him one way or the other.

  Stone Hart looked around at the groaning, half-naked women and the wreck caused by the fight. “Man, looks like there’s been a fair round in here,” he said. “How about these bunch, Dusty?”

  “Take them to wherever their hosses are and see they leave town,” Dusty replied. “Handle it for me, will you, Stone! Mark, go fetch Mrs. Schulze and Bearcat Annie in here. Rusty, you make a round of the town, see all’s quiet, then go back to the jail. Mark, Lon, we’ll have a look in the office, see what’s in the safe if we can open it.”

  Doc Leroy was busy examining the girls even as the hired guns were herded out under the experienced eyes of the Wedge crew. Dutchy, Cy Bollinger and Happy came in. The blacksmith was carrying Eeney and gently laid her on top of the bar. Then he turned and went to his wife, bending over her. Happy was by Roxie’s side, his face showing anxiety. “Doc!” he gasped. “Come over here and look at Roxie.”

  “Already have, boy,” Doc answered. “She’s all right.”

  Men were crowding into the saloon now, all ogling the half-naked and battered contestants. They were forced apart as Mark came through carrying the unconscious Bearcat Annie in his arms. He laid her on the floor and glanced around with some distaste. “All right,” he barked. “Let’s have this place cleared. Right now.”

  The crowd faded away. They had learned the way of the Texas boys by that time.

  The saloon doors opened again and Mrs. Gillem came in with several other women behind her. The old woman glanced around, picked up Maggie Bollinger’s torn gingham dress and grunted. “Looks like it was a real battle.”

  “Sure was, ma’am,” Mark agreed. “Say, I lost my
suggan, there’s enough material here to make me a dandy one.”

  “I’ll see about it,” Mrs. Gillem promised.

  That was how Mark Counter came to own a suggan, a kind of heavy patchwork quilt comfort made from, among other things, the clothing of the participants of the battle in Bearcat Annie’s saloon.

  “Reckon we can leave the ladies to handle things, with Doc’s help,” Dusty remarked. “Let’s take a look in the office.”

  “Man, this is lucky,” the Ysabel Kid remarked as they entered the office and found the safe door open. “Saves us trying to find a key.”

  The three Texans went to the safe and took out the papers. Dusty was about to check through them when he saw the bottle Bearcat Annie’s husband had left. He pulled the cork out and a sweet, sickly aroma permeated the air. It was not the sort of thing one would expect to find in Bearcat Annie’s safe although for a moment Dusty did not connect what it was with anything.

  The Ysabel Kid’s nostrils quivered, his keen senses working hard to try and locate where he had smelled that scent before. Then he remembered. “Remember that bunch who tried to sticky Dutchy up?” he asked. “They smelled like they’d been round some of this stuff.”

  “And that Mexican we caught out at Dutchy’s place,” Dusty answered. “I’ve seen this stuff before but I can’t place where.”

  Mark was leafing through the papers, he looked at the other two. “Reckon you called it wrong for once, Dusty. I make it Bearcat Annie was the big wheel.”

  Dusty glanced at the papers; there were title needs to saloons, gambling houses, even some of the freight companies which had been driven out of business. The one thing there was not was money. The safe held nothing but papers, not a single dollar of cash.