Part 34 (1/2)
”Yes, sir.” After a bit, I asked, ”How did you know it was me?”
”Them tight boots you got on. Your gait's got a hitch to it cause of how they pinch your toes.”
”You must have frightfully good ears.”
”They've had a share of practice. So how come you're up and about?”
”Will you actually help me to search for Whittle?”
”I might do just that very thing.”
”It would be splendid.”
”Well, I spent some time down there, know the territory. Ran with Al Sieber and his boys back in eighty-two. That's when we took on Nan-tia-tish. Then it was Geronimo and Nachite raising h.e.l.l. Chased them all through creation. I reckon there ain't a canyon or a cactus between Fort Apache and the Torres Mountains that I ain't met up with, one time or another.”
”I'm not familiar with those places, actually.”
”You don't need to be, cause I am.”
”Have you been to Tombstone?”
”Many a time.”
”You'll be able to help me find it, then?”
”Why, sure. Lead you straight to it. She's a far piece west of here, then a ways south. Shouldn't take more than a couple of weeks to get there, once we start out.”
”When shall we start?” I asked.
”Let's just wait and see. We wanta spend us some time at Bailey's Corner and live it up some, you know.” He smiled, pale teeth showing under his mustache. ”You don't wanta start off on a long journey with too much cash weighing you down. It'd only serve to tire the horses.”
”Will the others come with us, do you suppose?”
”That'll be up to them. Much as I'll likely miss the boys, I reckon we'd be better off shed of 'em. First thing you know, they'd be hankering to pull a holdup. We don't want none of that. Can't hunt a man proper if you gotta keep a lookout for lawmen and posses and the like. It'd only serve to interfere with business. Sides, they'd slow us down.”
”I'd hate for you to leave them on my account,” I said.
”High time I pulled out. I been putting it off too long already.”
”Then, you're not doing it only because of me?”
”Let me tell you a thing or two, w.i.l.l.y. Chase is the only feller in the bunch that has a lick of sense. Them other three, any one of 'em could end up dragging us all into some kinda mess. Breakenridge, he's got a temper so hot he'll kill a man for looking at him sideways. Emmet's got an itch to swap lead with any feller that gives him half an excuse. Snooker's got himself a streak of yellow that makes him worse than either of 'em. He's a back-shooter, and he ain't particular who he does it to. You ride with boys like that, you always gotta watch 'em and try to keep a rein on 'em, but sooner or later they're gonna draw you into some mighty deep trouble. I been with this bunch for a couple of years, now, and we been lucky. But luck has a way of petering out on you. Best to get shut of 'em.”
When I think about what happened later, it seems funny-in an awful sort of way-that McSween said such things just the night before we went into Bailey's Corner. He'd sure been right about luck petering out. But he couldn't have been more wrong about Breakenridge or Emmet or Snooker being the cause of our trouble. McSween himself was the one who brought it down on us all. Because of me.
Prue and his friend must've been tracking us the whole time after we ”bought” the horse. They'd been smart enough to keep well out of sight, so we never saw hide nor hair of them, nor suspected they were on their way. They didn't show up until our second night in town, and they showed up with help.
We were having us a farewell supper at the Silver Dollar Saloon, drinking beer and eating steaks, all sitting together around a corner table. I was feeling mighty fine. I'd had a good sleep the night before in a hotel bed, I'd had two baths and a haircut, I'd been eating good meals for the better part of two days, my wealth had increased by fifteen dollars due to the sale of the stolen watches, and I was decked out in a brand new outfit.
I was mighty proud of my outfit. The whole gang, except for Breakenridge, had helped me pick it out the day we got into town. Dressed up the way I was, I felt just like one of the boys.
I wore a pair of dandy boots that didn't pinch, spurs that jingled every time I moved my feet, comfortable trousers, a blue s.h.i.+rt like McSween's, a leather vest, a red bandanna that dropped around my neck, and a splendid beaver hat. The pride of my new gear was a gunbelt with a big silver buckle, loops across its back for ammunition, and holsters at each hip. Both holsters had tie-downs. They held the Colts I'd acquired at the train.
I knew I looked bully. Quite the desperado. But I near choked on my last swallow of steak when Emmet said, ”We gotta make sure w.i.l.l.y don't ride outa here tomorrow a virgin.”
Snooker let out a whoop. ”Let's take him on over to Sally's!”
Last night, they'd all gone to Sally's, but I'd let on that I had a bellyache, and got out of it. It hadn't been much of a lie, for the notion of ”visiting the ladies” had indeed turned me queasy.
”I'd rather not, actually,” I said.
”Feeling poorly?” Emmet asked.
”Why, there ain't nothing to it,” Snooker said. ”No call to be scared.”
”I'm not at all scared,” I protested, though such talk was giving me an awful case of the fantods. In my head, I found myself back in that East End alley with Sue the wh.o.r.e. Much as I'd been thrilled by that encounter-up till she attacked me-the notion of taking up with another person of her sort upset me considerable. ”I'd rather not, is all.”
”He's plumb terrorized,” Emmet said.
”Oh, leave him be,” Chase told him.
”Gals isn't nothing to be scared of,” Snooker went on. ”They's just the same as fellers, only they got nicer parts.”
”It can be a mite trying, first time around,” McSween said. I judged he was coming to my aid, but then he disappointed me. ”What we'll do, we'll have Sally fix you up with a sweet young thing that'll treat you right.”
Once again, Sue came to mind. I shook my head.
”It don't hurt hurt, you know,” Emmet said.
”I'm quite aware of that,” I blurted. ”Me and Sarah...” Well, I shut my mouth quick. But not quick enough.
”You and Sarah?” Emmet asked. ”The General's daughter?”
”Granddaughter,” I corrected him.
”Well, shooey,” Snooker said.
”If that don't beat all,” McSween said, smiling some.
My face felt like it was burning up. ”I'm quite fond of her, really,” I muttered. ”I shouldn't like to...have a go...at someone else.”
”Don't wanta betray her, is that it?” McSween asked.
”Why, she don't ever have to know,” Emmet said.
”Still...”
Snooker said, ”I bet she's gone and taken up with that feller on the train you told us about, anyhow.”
That remark changed my embarra.s.sment to anger. ”b.u.g.g.e.r off,” I snapped.