Day of Reckoning Page 22

  “Hell, I can tell you the exact time. I’ve got myself a new pocket watch,” Morris said proudly. The money for the new watch, as the money he spent with the whore and intended to spend in the saloon tonight, came from his share of the bank robbery in Bordeaux and the robbery of Whitworth’s store. He hadn’t brought all his money with him, Callahan had cautioned them against that, but he had brought enough to have a good time.

  “It lacks ten minutes of six,” Morris said, examining his watch.

  “Oh, my goodness, I had no idea it was that late. I ought to charge you another two dollars.”

  “The hell you say. You coulda woke me anytime you wanted,” Morris said as he pulled on his pants. “But I’ll give you another . . .” he stopped in mid-sentence. “Where is it?”

  “Where is what?”

  “Where is my wallet?”

  “I don’t know where your wallet is.”

  “You stole it! What did you do with it?” Morris was growing angrier.

  “I did not take your wallet,” the woman insisted.

  “I want my wallet, you damn whore!” Morris shouted. He slapped her.

  “Please, I didn’t take your wallet!”

  Morris hit her again and she screamed and tried to cover up, whimpering in fear and pain as he continued to hit her.

  Cooper, who had been with his own woman in the adjacent room, came in then.

  “Morris come on, it’s time to go.” He saw the woman, sitting on the floor whimpering, her lips and nose bleeding, one eye swollen shut.

  “Damn, did you do that?” Cooper asked.

  “Yeah, I did it.”

  “What for?”

  “’Cause the bitch stole my wallet,” Morris said. Cooper laughed.

  “What are you laughin’ about?”

  “She didn’t steal your wallet. After you took out the money you was goin’ to give her, you gave the wallet to me to keep, ’cause you don’t have no button on your back pocket ’n you was afraid it would fall out.”

  “Ha!” Morris said. “Yeah, I did do that, didn’t I? I forgot all about that.” He looked at the prostitute. “Sorry ’bout hittin’ you ’n all.”

  “You had no call to do that,” she replied.

  “Yeah, well, I told you I was sorry. What else do you want?” He took a dollar from the billfold Cooper had given him. “Here,” he said. He took another dollar. “Hell, here’s two dollars.”

  The woman managed a smile at the prospect of an extra two dollars.

  * * *

  The sun was low in the west when Cooper and Morris stepped outside. Wilma’s House of Pleasure was just that, a two-story house in the middle of a residential area. Because of that, it was no more than a hundred yards from the house to the nearest saloon. Despite the relatively short distance, the two men rode their horses because, as Cooper liked to say, “If we was meant to walk, we’d woulda been given four legs when we was born.”

  They had come to Laramie City to meet with Dan Jeeter. Cooper, who had served some prison time with Jeeter, had convinced Callahan that Jeeter could help them. Jeeter worked for the Union Pacific Railroad.

  “That’s him, back there,” Cooper said when the two stepped into the Bear Tracks Saloon. He pointed to a table where three men sat nursing drinks.

  “Which one is him?” Morris asked.

  “The one with the red shirt and black vest.”

  Cooper started toward the table with Morris trailing behind. When Jeeter looked up there was a moment of confusion, then recognition.

  “Hello, Cooper,” Jeeter said. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “You two fellas, find yourselves another table. I want to visit with my old pard here, and me ’n my friend need these seats.”

  “Find your own seat,” one of the two men said.

  Cooper pulled his pistol and pushed it into the mouth of the man who had talked back to him. The gunsight cut the man’s lip.

  “I said go away,” Cooper repeated ominously.

  “All right, all right,” the man said, though the words came out “ag rag, ag rag.”

  Cooper smiled at the man and gave him a five-dollar bill. “Here, I don’t want you to have no hard feelin’s or nothin’, so why don’t you and your friend have some drinks on me?” he said.

  When he saw the five-dollar bill, the angry look on the man’s face was replaced by a broad smile. “Well, hell, why didn’t you say so in the first place?” he said. “Sure, you can have our seats. Go ahead ’n have a nice visit.”

  “It’s been awhile,” Jeeter said after the other men left and Cooper and Morris had taken their seats at the table. “How did you find me?”

  “I always like to keep up with old friends,” Cooper replied.

  Jeeter laughed. “Only reason we was friends was ’cause we was cell mates. We sure didn’t have nothin’ else in common.”

  “We do now.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We both make money off the railroad.”

  “You workin’ for the U.P.?”

  “No.”

  “Then how you goin’ to make money off the railroad?”

  “With your help.”

  “Look, I ain’t in all that good with the railroad that I can talk up for you. You want a job with the railroad, you’d do just as good askin’ for it your own self.”

  “I said I was goin’ to make some money from the railroad. I didn’t say I was goin to be workin’ for it.”

  “If you ain’t goin’ to be workin’ for it, then how do you plan to . . . ?” Jeeter started, then he stopped and shook his head. “Uh-uh. I think I know what you got in mind, but I ain’t interested. I done served my time in prison, ’n I don’t plan on doin’ nothin’ that will send me back.”

  “You won’t be takin’ no chances at all,” Cooper said. “You’ll be completely out of it.”

  “Then I don’t understand. What is it you’re a-wantin’ me to do?”

  “All you got to do is tell us when there’s goin’ to be a lot of money being shipped.”

  “What’s my share?”

  “Five percent.”

  “That ain’t much.”

  “It’s plenty, when you figure you ain’t goin’ to be takin’ no risk at all; not from bein’ shot on the job ’n not from the law, neither, ’cause you won’t even be connected to it.”

  “Sixty thousand dollars,” Jeeter said.

  “What? You’re crazy, askin’ for sixty thousand dollars!”

  “No, I ain’t askin’ for sixty thousand dollars,” Jeeter said. “I’m tellin’ you that there’ll be a shipment of sixty thousand dollars comin’ through tomorrow.”

  “When? Where?”

  “I don’t have all the information yet. Meet me behind the depot corral at nine o’clock tomorrow mornin’,” Jeeter said. “I should have the information by then.”

  Otto

  With the show over, the townspeople drifted away. Ina Claire was making a count of their “product,” which was little more than a commercial cough syrup to which had been added sugar and cinnamon.

  “We sold fifteen bottles tonight,” she said excitedly.

  Meagan laughed. “There’s nothing like showing enthusiasm for your job,” she said.

  “Oh, well, Papa always said if you’re going to do something, you should do the best you can.”

  “Your papa was absolutely right,” Duff said. “And, if we are going to use this medicine show as a means of disguising our actual intent in traveling around, then it will only work if we do it right.”

  “And you were wonderful on the drums,” Meagan said.

  “Aye, lass, that you were.”

  “The only thing . . .” Ina Claire started, but paused.

  “What is it?”

  “I can’t help but feel like we are cheating the folks,” Ina Claire said. “I mean we’re selling them this miracle cure, and it isn’t a miracle cure at all. It’s just a cough syrup with sugar and cinnamon.”

  Me
agan laughed. “Honey, there isn’t one in twenty who might actually believe that they are buying some sort of miracle cure. People come to medicine shows for the show, and you and Duff certainly provided them with that.”

  Meagan smiled. “Good. I’m glad we aren’t cheating them.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Laramie City

  As per the arrangement, the next morning Cooper went to the depot corral to meet with Jeeter. He brought Callahan with him. Although empty now because this wasn’t the shipping season, the grounds of the corral were still covered with the results of thousands of cattle that had been brought through this railhead over the years, and the air reeked with the odor.

  “Damn, couldn’t we have met somewhere else?” Callahan complained. “It stinks here.”

  “Yeah, well, cattle turds don’t smell no worse nor no better’n any other turd,” Cooper replied. “Anyhow, I figure that’s why he chose to meet us here. There ain’t likely to be no one around, on account of no one likes the stink.”

  Callahan took a handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose. “Phew!” he said afterward, shaking his head. “I wish to hell I hadn’t done that. That just made it worse.”

  “You ain’t never cowboyed none have you?” Cooper asked with a little chuckle.

  “No. I’ve always managed to find other ways to earn my money.”

  “Here comes Jeeter,” Cooper said.

  Cooper and Callahan watched as the short, bearded man approached, limping from an old broken leg that had not been properly set. When Jeeter saw the two men who were waiting for him, he stopped.

  Cooper and Callahan approached him.

  “Who is this?” Jeeter asked when the distance between them had been closed.

  “His name is Callahan,” Cooper said.

  “Yeah? Well I don’t like too many people knowin’ my business, do you know what I mean?”

  “Callahan is part of this business,” Cooper said. “You might even say he’s the head of it, bein’ as me ’n the others ride for him, so to speak.”

  Although Callahan had assumed the leadership role in the group, this was the first time he had ever heard any of the others actually acknowledge that fact, and the words pleased him. He turned his attention to Jeeter.

  “Cooper said you was sayin’ somethin’ about a shipment of sixty thousand dollars,” Callahan said.

  Jeeter looked at both Cooper and Callahan, as if uncertain as to whether or not he should trust them. Finally, taking a deep breath, he plunged on.

  “All right, the money will be on train number five twenty-five. It’ll be in Laramie City at eight thirty-five tomorrow morning.”

  “Eastbound or westbound?” Callahan asked.

  “Eastbound. It’s takin’ the money to Cheyenne.”

  “How much money?”

  “It’s like I told Cooper. Sixty thousand dollars. How are you going to get the three thousand dollars to me?”

  “We’ll figure that out later,” Callahan said.

  “I warn you not to try and double-cross me,” Jeeter said.

  “Oh, you warn me, do you?”

  “Yes. I will know if you have succeeded. And if I haven’t received my share within one week after the robbery, I will go to the sheriff with everything that I know.”

  “That wouldn’t be a very good idea,” Callahan said flatly.

  Jeeter chuckled. “No, I wouldn’t think you would appreciate it.” With a triumphant smile, Jeeter turned to walk away from Callahan and Cooper.

  That was where he made his mistake because Callahan stepped up behind him, put his hand to Jeeter’s head, and pulled it back. With the knife in his other hand, Callahan slit Jeeter’s throat.

  Jeeter lay on his back, looking up at the two men as he felt his life slipping away from him.

  “Ahh, what would you have done with three thousand dollars anyway?” Callahan asked the dying man.

  Howell

  When Duff stepped into the sheriff’s office, Deputy Thurman Burns looked up from his almost constant game of solitaire.

  “Yes, sir, what can I do for you?” Burns asked.

  “The name is Malcolm Campbell, ’n I’ve come to see if a permit be needed to put on my medicine show,” Duff replied.

  Burns smiled. “Medicine show, is it? Well, I’ll be glad to give you a permit to perform. ’N after the tragic event that happened here not too long ago, why I think the folks would be more’n glad to have some entertainin’. You do some entertainin’, don’t you? I mean more’n just spout off your medicine.”

  “Aye, ’tis quite a good show we perform if I may say so myself,” Duff replied.

  “Then you’re more than welcome.”

  “Ye mentioned a tragic event,” Duff said. “’N would you mind for be tellin’ me what that tragic event may be?”

  Duff was well aware of what Deputy Burns was talking about, but he thought he might be able to ascertain more information by playing ignorant of the fact.

  “Well, sir, a man, ’n a real good man I might add by the name of Whitworth, run him a store that’s about halfway between here ’n Farrel. He was robbed by a bunch of outlaws, ’n he warn’t only robbed, he was murdered, too. His poor wife, who’s just a real nice lady, hid out in back of the store. She brought her husband’s body in, in the back of the wagon, poor thing.”

  Duff had heard about the murder and robbery, but he decided to let the deputy continue on with dispensing his information.

  “There’s one good thing that’s come from it, though,” Deputy Burns said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Three of them sons of bitches that done the murderin’ has got their own selves kilt.”

  This was new information for Duff. “What? Who? And how is it that ye would be knowing such a thing?”

  Burns chuckled, then picked up a telegram. “You ever heard of the town of Chugwater?”

  “Chugwater?” Now Duff grew even more interested in what the deputy sheriff had to say. “Aye, I’ve heard of Chugwater.”

  “Well, sir, I got word from a fella by the name of Craig, he’s the marshal back in Chugwater. It seems that three of them”—he read the names from the telegram, Pardeen, Bates, and Donner—“went out to a ranch that’s near Chugwater to kill a feller by the name of Duff MacCallister. Don’t know if you ever heard of him, he’s supposed to be some big rancher up in that area. Anyhow, he put a story in the paper that he was comin’ after them seven men, and that must be why it is that these three decided to kill him. Only the thing is, they got kilt instead.”

  “Who killed them?” Duff asked, though even as he was asking the question, he was reasonably certain that he knew the answer.

  “I don’t rightly know, the telegram don’t say nothin’ ’bout that,” Deputy Burns replied. “But I reckon it was this feller MacCallister, since it was his ranch they went to.”

  “Aye,” Duff said. “Aye, I suppose that’s true. So, what about the other four men?”

  “What other four?”

  “Ye said there were seven who murdered Mr. Whitworth ’n that three of them have now been killed. That leaves four. Where are they now?”

  “Oh, heavens, I don’t have no idea where they might be.”

  “Ye dinnae go after them?”

  “Well, yeah, I took a posse out to Whitworth’s store ’n we had a look around, but the thing is that store is on a road ’n they was just too many tracks to follow. There warn’t actually nothin’ I could do about it, so I brung the posse back home. I couldn’t take a chance on leavin’ the town unguarded you know.”

  “Aye, I suppose that’s true,” Duff agreed. “And ’tis thanking ye again for the permit that will let me do the medicine show.”

  “Oh, think nothin’ of it. Like I said, a bit of entertainment is just what this town needs right now.”

  When Duff left the deputy sheriff’s office, he went straight to the telegraph office to send a telegram to Elmer.

  ELMER TELL ME ABOUT YOUR
RECENT

  ADVENTURE STOP YOU CAN REACH ME

  AT HOWELL ATTENTION MEDICINE SHOW

  STOP DUFF

  “We are hot on their trail,” Duff said when he returned to the wagon. He told about the robbery and murder of Mr. Whitworth at his store.

  “Mr. Whitworth’s wife hid in the back of the store and overheard them talking. From the names she picked up, I know this is the same bunch we have been after.”

  “Oh,” Meagan replied in a sympathetic tone of voice. “But what a terrible way to learn it, at the expense of that poor woman’s husband.”

  “Now that you put it that way, ’tis the thought of such a tragedy that makes me feel guilty for having celebrated being on their trail a moment ago.”

  “Nonsense, Duff, you don’t have a thing to feel guilty about. We know what these men have done, are doing, and will continue to do so unless we stop them.”

  Duff nodded, then lay his hand gently on Meagan’s shoulder. “Aye, lass,” he said. “And we will stop them.”

  Sky Meadow Ranch, one hour and thirty minutes later

  A leak had developed in the bunkhouse, and Elmer and Wang were making the repair. Elmer had just stepped down from the ladder to get some more shingles while Wang waited on the roof.

  “Someone is coming,” Wang said.

  Elmer’s pistol was in the holster, hanging from a nearby fence.

  “Who is it?” he asked.

  “He is of no danger,” Wang said. “It is the boy who delivers telegrams.”

  “You say it is the boy who delivers telegrams? Damn, what could that be about?” Elmer mused. “Wang, you don’t reckon Duff or one o’ them two girls has got hurt, do you?”

  Rubbing his hands together, Elmer started toward the delivery boy, who was riding a pinto.

  “Now, a’fore you even hand me that thing, I want to know if it is bad news,” Elmer said.

  “I haven’t read it,” the boy replied. He looked to be no older than fourteen. “But I wasn’t told it was bad news, ’n most of the time if it is bad news I get told in advance so I’ll know how to react around the folks when they read it.”