As a precaution, the sheriff walked over to stand beside the weapons table while Jesse and Leonard picked up their guns. “You two are gettin’ close to spendin’ the night in my jail. You’re damn lucky the man you been pickin’ away at is a peaceful man or you mighta been sleepin’ in the boneyard up on the hill.”
“We ain’t gonna cause no more trouble, Sheriff,” Leonard was quick to assure him. “Come on, Jesse, we don’t wanna spend the night in jail.” They went out the door and McQueen followed them to watch them as they walked away.
When the two troublemakers reached Patton’s Saloon and went inside, McQueen returned to the dining room. He was met at the door by Becky Morris. “You should have put them in jail,” she said, “especially when that dirty-looking one knocked Perley’s cup over.”
“Perley’s after the same thing I am,” the sheriff told her. “And that’s to keep from havin’ gunfights in our street and endangerin’ the good folks in this town. I’m beholden to him for not answerin’ that saddle tramp’s challenge.” He glanced at Perley and nodded his thanks. He was well aware of Perley’s skill with a six-shooter, but he also knew that the young man’s lightning-like reflexes were not something Perley liked to display. He slowly shook his head when he thought about Perley’s dilemma. McQueen had never met a more peaceful man than Perley Gates. His father had placed a tremendous burden on his youngest son’s shoulders when he named him for the boy’s grandfather. McQueen could only assume that God, in His mercy, compensated for the name by endowing the boy with reflexes akin to those of a striking rattlesnake.
When he realized Becky was still standing there, as if waiting for him to say more, he thanked her for the coffee. “I’d best get back to shoein’ that horse,” he said, referring to the job he was in the middle of when Becky came to find him. It brought to mind a subject that had been in his thoughts a lot lately. The town was growing so fast that he felt it already called for a full-time sheriff, instead of one who was also a part-time blacksmith.
“Thanks for coming, Sheriff,” Becky said, turned, and went back to the table where Lucy and Beulah were already warning Perley to be careful when he left the dining room. “They’re right, Perley,” Becky said. “Those two are just looking for trouble.”
And like John and Rubin like to say, if there ain’t but one cow pie in the whole state of Texas, Perley will most likely step in it, was the thought in Perley’s mind. To Becky, however, he said, “Nothin’ to worry about. We’ve already got the wagon loaded with the supplies we came after, so we’ll be headin’ straight to the ranch when we leave here. Besides, I’ve got Sonny and Link to take care of me. Ain’t that right, Link?” Link looked undecided. Perley continued, “So, I’m gonna take my time to enjoy this fine meal Beulah cooked. By the time I’m finished, those fellows probably won’t even remember me.”
“I hope you’re right,” Becky said, and turned her attention to some of the other customers, who were waiting for coffee refills. The room returned to its usual atmosphere of peaceful dining.
* * *
Just as he said he would, Perley took his time to enjoy his dinner and some idle conversation with Becky and Lucy, plus a pause to stick his head inside the kitchen door to wish Beulah a happy birthday. Unfortunately, it provided enough time for his two antagonists to think of another way to entertain themselves at his expense. “We saw them two fellers ol’ Perley met with when they drove that wagon around to the side of the buildin’,” Jesse recalled as he and Leonard walked out on the porch of the saloon. “But he came from that inside door from the hotel.”
“Yeah, he did,” Leonard replied, wondering what that had to do with anything.
“Look yonder at that bay horse tied out front of the hotel,” Jesse said, a grin slowly spreading across his unshaven face. “I’m thinkin’ that’s ol’ Perley’s horse. I bet you he ain’t got a room in the hotel. He just tied his horse out there.”
Still not quite sure what his friend was driving at, Leonard asked, “Maybe, so what about it?”
“I’m thinkin’ about borrowin’ his horse for a little ride,” Jesse answered, his grin spreading from ear to ear now. “See if that don’t get his dander up enough to make him do somethin’ about it.”
“Damned if you ain’t got the itch awful bad to shoot somebody, ain’t you? How do you know how fast he is?”
“I know he ain’t faster’n me,” Jesse crowed. “I just don’t like his attitude—like he’s too good to have to stand up like a man.” He continued to grin at Leonard, waiting for him to show some enthusiasm for the caper. When Leonard remained indifferent, Jesse announced, “Well, I’m gonna take that bay for a little ride up and down this street a few times, till ol’ Perley shows his yellow self.”
“What if it ain’t his horse?” Leonard asked.
“Then I’ll just say, Beg your pardon, sir, and if whoever owns him don’t like it, we can settle it with six-guns.” Jesse didn’t wait for more discussion but headed straight for the hotel. Thinking it was bound to provide some entertainment, no matter who owned the horse, Leonard followed along behind him. He didn’t think it was a good idea, and Jesse’s brothers wouldn’t like for him to draw any more attention to them. But he knew better than to tell Jesse not to do something.
When he walked up to the hitching rail, Jesse took a quick look toward the front door of the hotel. Seeing no one, he untied Buck’s reins from the rail and turned the bay gelding toward the street. “You’re a good-lookin’ horse for a jasper like that to be ridin’. It’s time to let you feel a man on your back.” He put a foot in the stirrup and climbed up. While he was throwing his right leg over, Buck lowered his head toward the ground and reared up on his front legs, causing the unsuspecting Jesse to do a somersault in midair and land hard on the ground in front of the horse. “Damn you!” Jesse spat as he tried to gather himself. “You like to broke my back!”
It only made matters worse when Leonard whooped and hollered, “Hot damn, Jesse! You never said nothin’ about flyin’. Looks to me like that horse don’t wanna be rode.”
“Well, he’s gonna be,” Jesse announced emphatically and got back up on his feet. “C’mere, you hardheaded plug.” Buck didn’t move but stood watching the strange man as he advanced cautiously toward him. “You fooled me with that trick, but I ain’t gonna be fooled this time.” The horse remained stone still as Jesse walked slowly up to him and took the reins again.
Leonard bit his lip to keep from laughing, urging Jesse on. “Watch him, Jesse, he’s waitin’ to give you another flip.”
“He does and I’ll shoot the fool crowbait,” Jesse said. “He ain’t as ornery as he thinks he is.” Buck continued to watch Jesse with a wary eye, but he remained as still as a statue. Trying again to approach the stone-still horse, Jesse kept talking calmly. “You just hold still, ol’ boy, till I get settled in the saddle. Then I’ll run some of the steam outta you.” With his foot in the stirrup again, he took a good grip on the saddle horn, then stood there on one leg before attempting to climb into the saddle. Still he paused, waiting to catch the horse by surprise. When he was ready, he suddenly pulled himself up to land squarely in the saddle. Buck did not flinch. He remained still as a statue. “Now, you’re showin’ some sense, horse.” He looked over at Leonard and grinned. “All he needed was for . . .” That was as far as he got before the big bay gelding exploded. With all four legs stiff as poles, the horse bounced around and around in a circle while Jesse held on for dear life. When that didn’t rid him of his rider, the incensed gelding started a series of bucks that ended when Jesse was finally thrown, landing on the hotel porch to slide up against a corner post.
With the fuse on his temper burning brightly now, Jesse rolled over on the rough boards of the porch, his hands and knees skinned under his clothes. He scrambled on all fours to recover his .44, which had been knocked out of his holster when he landed on the porch. When he had the pistol in hand, he turned to level it at the offending horse. “Damn you, you four-leg
ged devil, I’m sendin’ you back to hell where you came from!” He cocked the pistol at almost the same time his hand was smashed by the .44 slug that knocked the weapon free.
Jesse screamed with the pain in his hand as he turned to see Perley standing in the doorway, his six-gun trained on him. “I’m willin’ to ignore your childish behavior when it ain’t doin’ any harm,” Perley said. “But you’re goin’ too far when you mess with my horse.” He glanced over at Leonard, standing in the street, to make sure he wasn’t showing any signs of retaliation. He wasn’t, after having witnessed the swiftness of the shot just fired. Perley looked back at Jesse. “I’m sure Sheriff McQueen heard that shot and he’ll be up here pretty quick to find out who did the shootin’. My advice to both of you is to get on your horses and get outta town before he gets here. If you do, I’ll tell him it was just an accidental discharge of a weapon. If you don’t, you’re goin’ to jail. So, what’s it gonna be?”
“We’re gettin’ outta town,” Leonard said at once. “We don’t want no more trouble.” He hurried over to the edge of the porch. “Come on, Jesse, he’s right, it’s best we get outta town. You can’t go to jail right now.”
Jesse was in too much pain to argue. He picked up his pistol with his left hand and let Leonard help him off the porch. “I might be seein’ you again, Perley,” he had to threaten as he went down the one step to the street.
“Come on,” Leonard urged him. “Let’s get outta here and find a place to take a look at that hand.”
Perley stepped out into the street to watch them hurry to the saloon, where their horses were tied. They galloped past the blacksmith’s forge just as Paul McQueen came walking out to the street. He paused to take a look at the two departing riders. Then, when he saw Perley standing out in front of the hotel, he headed that way. By the time he walked up there, Sonny and Link were there as well. “Wasn’t that those two in the dinin’ room before?” the sheriff asked.
“Yep,” Perley answered. “They decided it best to leave town before they wound up in your jailhouse.” When McQueen asked about the shot he heard, Perley told him he fired it and why. “I did the best I could to avoid trouble with those two, but that one that kept pickin’ at me was fixin’ to shoot my horse. So I had to keep him from doin’ that.”
“You shot him?” McQueen asked.
“Just in the hand,” Perley replied. “I told ’em you’d be on your way to most likely put ’em in jail, so they decided to leave town.”
“Good,” the sheriff said, “’cause it don’t look like I’m ever gonna get done shoein’ Luther Rains’s horse.”
“Sorry you were bothered,” Perley said. “If you do get called out again, it won’t be on account of me. We’re fixin’ to head back to the Triple-G right now.”
“I know it ain’t your fault, Perley. You don’t ever cause any trouble,” the sheriff said. To himself, he thought, but damned if trouble doesn’t have a way of finding you. He turned away and went back to finish his work at his forge. He had put his wife and son on the train the day before for a trip to visit her family in Kansas City. So he was trying to take advantage of the opportunity to catch up with some of his work as a blacksmith. Maybe if Perley stayed out of town for a while, he could get more done. As soon as he thought it, he scolded himself for thinking anything negative about Perley.
* * *
“He was gonna shoot Buck, so you had to shoot that feller, right, Perley?” Link was eager to confirm. His admiration for Perley had wavered a bit after having witnessed Perley’s reluctance to fight before. But now his faith was restored.
“That’s right, Link. There wasn’t any time to talk him out of it. It’s too bad it takes a gun to talk somebody outta doin’ something stupid.” He glanced down the street to see a few people coming out into the thoroughfare, curious to see what the gunshot was about, so he climbed up into the saddle. “Let’s go home before Rubin sends somebody after us.”
* * *
When they reached a small stream approximately five miles south of Paris, Leonard Watts said, “Let’s pull up here and take a look at your hand.” He dismounted and waited for Jesse to pull up beside him. “Is it still bleedin’ pretty bad?”
“Hell, yeah, it’s still bleedin’,” Jesse complained painfully. “I think it broke all the bones in my hand.” He had bound his bandana around the wounded hand as tightly as he could, but the cloth was thoroughly soaked.
“Come on,” Leonard said, “let’s wash some of the blood off and see how bad it is.” He helped Jesse down from his horse and they knelt beside the stream to clean the hand. After he had cleared some of the blood away, he said, “The bullet went all the way through.”
“Hell, I know that,” Jesse retorted, “you can see the mark on the grip of my Colt. And I can’t move my fingers.”
“Well, quit tryin’ to move ’em. That just makes it bleed more. Lemme get a rag outta my saddlebag, and I’ll try to bind it tight enough to hold it till we get back to camp. Micah can take a look at it and see what we gotta do. You might have to ride down to Sulphur Springs. They got a doctor there.”
“That sneakin’ egg-suckin’ dog,” Jesse muttered. “I oughta go back and call him out with my left hand.”
Leonard shook his head. “I don’t know, Jesse, that was a helluva shot that feller made, comin’ outta the doorway when he done it. You weren’t lookin’ at him when he shot you, but I was lookin’ right at him when he opened the door. And his gun was in the holster when he started to step out. I don’t know,” he repeated.
“I reckon that was the reason you never thought about pullin’ your gun,” Jesse grunted sarcastically. “He was just lucky as hell,” he insisted. “He was tryin’ to shoot me anywhere and just happened to hit my hand.”
“I don’t know,” Leonard said once again, thinking he had seen what he had seen, and knowing he had never seen anyone faster. Finished with his bandaging then, he said, “Maybe that’ll hold you till we get back to the others.” Jesse’s two brothers were waiting at a camp on the Sulphur River and that was fully ten or eleven miles from where they now stood. Leonard didn’t raise the subject with Jesse, but he was thinking Micah and Lucas were not going to be very happy to learn of the attention he and Jesse had called upon themselves in Paris. Their purpose for visiting the town was to take a look at the recently opened bank while Micah and Lucas rode down to Sulphur Springs to look at that bank. Their camp was halfway between the two towns and the plan had been to go to the towns in the morning, look them over, and meet back at the river that afternoon. It was easy for Leonard to forget his part in encouraging Jesse’s behavior and then blame him for causing them to be one man short in the planned robbery. I reckon he can at least hold the horses while we do the real business, he thought. “We’d best get goin’,” he said to Jesse.
* * *
Leonard was right on the mark when he figured that Jesse’s older brothers were not going to be happy to hear the cause for his wounded hand. “What the hell were you two thinkin’?” Lucas demanded. “We told you to lay low while you were up there and not attract any attention. So you decided to challenge somebody to have a gunfight out in the middle of the street? I swear, no wonder Ma and Pa decided not to have no more young ’uns after you popped out.” He looked at the eldest brother, who was busy examining Jesse’s hand. “Whaddaya think, Micah? Think we just oughta hit that bank in Sulphur Springs? It’s been there a lot longer than the one they looked at, but there is a damn guard.”
“Yeah, and they got a pretty tough sheriff, too,” Micah replied. He turned to Leonard and asked, “Tell me what you did find out when you weren’t tryin’ to get everybody to notice you.”
“I swear, Micah,” Leonard responded, “we did look the town over. It didn’t take long. It ain’t a big town, not as big as Sulphur Springs. The bank’s new, and they ain’t got no guards workin’ there. It’d be easy to knock it over. They got a sheriff, but he’s just part-time. Most of the time he works in a blacksmith sh
op. I don’t think they’d be able to get up a posse to amount to much. And there weren’t but a few people that got a look at me and Jesse. Besides, we’d be wearin’ bandanas over our faces, anyway.”
“Right,” Lucas scoffed, “and one of the bandanas would be blood soaked on the feller with a bandaged-up hand. How ’bout it, Micah? Is he gonna have to go see a doctor about that hand?”
“Well, it ain’t good, but it coulda been busted up a lot worse. Just feelin’ around on it, I think it mighta broke one of them little bones in there but not all of ’em. It just went straight through. If he can stand it, I think a doctor can wait till we get the hell outta Texas.” He turned to Jesse then. “What do you say, Jesse? Can you make it?”
Jesse took a look at his bandaged right hand and cursed. “Yeah,” he decided. “I can wait till we get our business done here and get gone.”
Micah studied him for a long moment before deciding Jesse was not just blowing smoke. Considering what he now knew about the two possible targets for bank robbery, he made his thoughts known to the others. “Right now, I’m thinkin’ that Paris bank is the smartest move, especially since we’re short a man. It’s smaller, not well guarded, and they’ve got a part-time sheriff. There’s one other thing I like about it, it’s a lot closer to the Red River, only about sixteen miles and we’d be in Indian Territory. I’m thinkin’ that right there would discourage any posse they might get up to come after us. Sulphur Springs is more like fifty miles before we could slip into Oklahoma Indian Territory. It’s been a while since we were up that way, but ol’ Doc O’Shea is most likely still over at Durant Station. If your hand don’t show signs of healin’, we can let him take a look at it.”
“If the old fool ain’t drank hisself to death by now,” Lucas said. Dr. Oliver O’Shea was a competent physician when he was sober, so it was said. They knew that he was adequate even when drunk, since that was the only state in which they had ever seen him.
The Intruders Page 29
