Part 33 (1/2)
If they'd fired just a single shot, I've no doubt at all but what McSween would've wheeled around and led the gang in a charge.
The pair was still in sight when we slowed our horses to a walk. Me and Snooker were at the rear. I rode over closer to him and said, ”Do you reckon they'll be coming after us?”
”Never can tell. I'd rest a sight easier if McSween'd shot 'em. Now we're gonna have to watch our backsides.”
”They don't seem at all worried, do they?” I asked, nodding toward the others.
”Them rascals is nothing we can't handle. Just gotta watch they don't take and bushwack us. If they do that, though, they'll wind up dead. We ain't a bunch of gals, you know.”
”I rather suppose you've dealt with worse rascals,” I said.
He gave me a weasely grin full of sharp, yellow teeth. ”None that's still above ground.”
”Who's the best of the lot?”
Patting the stock of his rife, he said, ”Why, I reckon I could knock the left eye out of a gnat at a hundred yards in a sandstorm. Chase and Emmet, they're mighty sharp with their six-guns, though they can't hold a candle to McSween. You take Breakenridge, now, he's having a lucky day when he can hit the air. air. But I once seen him get shot twice by a card-sharp, then lay one punch that turned the b.a.s.t.a.r.d's head clean around backward. They never bothered to untwist him, either. Saw him in his casket.” But I once seen him get shot twice by a card-sharp, then lay one punch that turned the b.a.s.t.a.r.d's head clean around backward. They never bothered to untwist him, either. Saw him in his casket.”
”Which side up?” I asked.
Snooker laughed. ”Face and a.s.s!”
”You're having me on.”
”It's the plain truth, just ask Breakenridge.”
I thought I might pa.s.s on that, as Breakenridge wasn't one for talking much and generally seemed rather solemn. ”Is that how he came to be on the wrong side of the law?”
”Oh, he got himself acquitted on that one. A fair fight, you know. The way I hear it, he was just a kid in Missouri when he laid an ax into his schoolmaster on account of the fellow called him a name. Went home to fetch it, first. Then came along with it and chopped him up right there in front of everyone.”
”I say,” said I. ”What did the schoolmaster call him, do you know?”
”Called him Meriwether.”
”But that's his name, isn't it?”
”He don't care to be reminded of the fact.”
”I heard McSween call him that.”
”Well, I reckon McSween can call him anything he likes.”
”They're great chums, is it?”
”Not hardly. They only just tolerate each other. But Breakenridge, he knows you don't fool with McSween.”
”That dangerous, is he?”
”Only if you rile him.”
”He seems quite friendly, really.”
”Oh, he's as sweet as pie, mostly.”
”Is he the leader of the gang? I'd rather a.s.sumed it was Chase, but...”
”Chase pretty much runs things. But he don't run McSween. It'd been up to Chase, I reckon we would've let them fellers alone, back there, and you'd still be riding double. Looks to me like McSween took a notion you oughta have a horse of your own, that's all. He thinks highly of you, w.i.l.l.y.”
Well, it didn't come as a surprise to hear that, but it made me feel mighty good.
”With a friend the likes of him, you ain't got much to worry about. He'll look after you and see no harm comes your way.”
Later on in the day, McSween broke off from the rest of us and rode to the top of a hill. Up there, he raised a pair of field gla.s.ses to his face. He studied the direction we'd come from.
I met up with him at the bottom. ”Are they after us?” I asked.
”Didn't see no sign of 'em. I spect they knew better, though I wouldn't trust that one feller no more than a rattlesnake.”
”What if they should come?”
”Be some gunplay.”
”Perhaps we shouldn't have taken the man's horse.”
”He acting up on you?”
”Not at all. He's quite fine, really.” I patted the horse's neck, and he glanced back at me and nodded like he appreciated the kindness. ”I just don't want any troubles to come of it.”
”Don't worry yourself about that, w.i.l.l.y.”
The rest of the boys had started moving again. We rode along behind. McSween didn't seem in any hurry to catch up with them.
”Got a name for him?” he asked.
”I should imagine he already has a name.”
”Has he whispered it to you?”
I laughed.
McSween rolled a smoke. He lit it up, then handed his makings across to me. I'd had some practice since my first go at it, back when we'd divvied up the loot. So I made myself a smoke that wasn't too crooked or leaky. I lit up, and pa.s.sed the makings back to him.
”You oughta give him a name,” he said.
”He doesn't feel as if he's actually my my horse.” horse.”
”Why, sure he is. You paid for him fair and square. All you're missing's a bill of sale. Fraid I didn't think of that. If it'd make you feel better, I'll do you one up myself when we make camp. We'll let on like I sold him to you. Not that anyone's likely to raise a fuss about it.”