Kill Crazy (9 page)

“We come to buy hats,” Johnny said.

“And shirts,” Calhoun added.

“My,” Matthews said. “All four of you have come in to buy hats and shirts at the same time? This is most unusual.”

“What's unusual about it?” Evans asked. “If nobody ever come in here to buy a hat, you wouldn't have any to sell, now, would you?”

Matthews chuckled. “I guess you've got me there, partner,” he said. “Now, what kind of hat can I show you?”

“The best you got,” Short said.

“Yeah, me too,” Evans said.

Johnny and Calhoun added their own requests for “the best he had,” and for the next few minutes the men tried on hats until each of them found the one he wanted. Once they had their hats, they picked out shirts. While Johnny, Short, and Evans made their choices quickly from a pile of gray shirts, Calhoun took a while longer because he wanted a red shirt. He finally settled for one that was wine colored. All four men took off the shirts they were wearing, and put on the new ones.

“About the bank robbery this morning,” Johnny said as he was buttoning up his shirt. “Whole town turned out shootin' did they?”

“Oh, no, it was just one man. I reckon they hadn't figured on Duff MacCallister being in the bank.”

“Duff MacCallister?” Johnny asked. “Who is Duff MacCallister?”

“He's a Scotsman who hasn't been in this country all that long, but since he arrived he has really made himself welcome. This isn't the first time he's made some outlaws rue the day they ever decided to try and come into Chugwater. I mean, he may be a Scotsman instead of your typical Western man, but I swear if he ain't about the best shot I've ever seen in my life, and I've seen some good ones in my day.”

“Fast on the draw, is he?” Calhoun asked.

“No. At least I don't think so,” Matthews said.

“I've never seen him draw, and I'm not sure that anyone has. But once he gets that gun in his hand, it's ‘Katy, bar the door.' Well, now, it looks as if you gentleman have chosen your shirts and hats. Is there anything else I can get for you?

“No, this is all,” Johnny said.

“You fellows have excellent taste. Those hats are a dollar fifty each, and the shirts are fifty cents each.”

Each of the four men presented him with a twenty-dollar bill.

“Oh,” Matthews said. “Because of the bank robbery, I'm rather short on change. I'm afraid I don't have enough to handle this. Do you not have anything smaller?”

“No, we ain't.”

“This is most unusual,” Matthews said. “I mean to think that there are four of you, and not one of you has anything smaller than a twenty-dollar bill. But then you all asked for the most expensive hats I had. Perhaps you gentlemen are wealthy?”

“Nah, that ain't it,” Johnny said. “It's just that we, uh, was ridin' for a ranch some north of here, and all of us just got paid off with a couple of twenty-dollar bills. So you see, that's how come we ain't got nothin' any smaller.”

“All right, I have a suggestion if you are amenable to it. You four men came in together, so I assume you are friends. Could I suggest that just one of you pay for all four hats and shirts, then later, when you get change, you can settle with each other?”

“Yeah,” Johnny said. “We can do that. I'll pay for 'em now.”

“Very good, sir. I see that you all put on your shirts. What about your hats? Do you want them in boxes?”

“Nah, we'll wear them out of here, too,” Johnny said.

Matthews made change for the twenty, then watched as the four men, wearing their new hats and shirts, went back out onto the street. He walked to the front to look through the window at them as they mounted their horses, then followed them with his gaze as they rode on down the street.

“Something wrong, Mr. Matthews?” one of his clerks asked.

“No,” Matthews said. “Not really. It's just that—well, I have a strange feeling about those four men. There is something about them that doesn't seem right.”

“There were four bank robbers who got away. Do you reckon these men might be those four?”

“I don't know,” Matthews said. Then he shook his head. “I mean, I gave it some thought, but it seems unlikely that they would show up here again, so I don't think so. Besides the robbers were all wearing masks and dusters, so nobody has any idea what they looked like.”

“Then what makes you feel funny about them?”

“I don't know,” Matthews said. “Probably nothing. Did Mr. Sikes find the tool he was looking for?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, good. He is one of my best customers. I always like to see him leave satisfied when I can.”

Chapter Twelve

After they left the Chugwater Mercantile, Johnny Taylor and what was left of his gang went down the street to Fiddler's Green. There, they found that everyone in the saloon was talking about the bank robbery. One man at the next table had obviously gone out with the posse in pursuit, because he was now telling some of the others about it.

“I was with the posse that went after 'em. We tracked 'em to where they all split up, so we split up to follow 'em. Well, sir, the horse that me and Simmons and Clark was trackin' led us right to Clyde Barnes's place. Turns out his horse was stolen and used by the bank robbers, then it was turned loose to lead us back.”

“Yeah, same thing with the group I was with,” one of the others said. “It was a wild goose chase all right.”

“I had over five hundred dollars in the bank,” one of the men was saying, angrily. “That's damn near all the money I had in the world and them sons of bitches stole it.”

“Well, hell, Randy, if you had so much money in the bank, why didn't you go out with the posse?” one of the others asked.

“'Cause I didn't know nothin' about the posse, that's why. I didn't even know nothin' about the bank bein' robbed 'til late this afternoon, when I come back into town.”

“Besides which, the posse didn't do no good, anyhow,” still another customer said. “They come back in with not even a sign as to what happened to them bank robbers. It was like they just disappeared into thin air.”

Johnny, Evans, Calhoun, and Short were sitting at a table near the piano, listening to the conversation.

“Disappeared into thin air,” Short said, smiling. “I've got to hand it to you, Johnny, changin' horses like we done was one smart move.”

“Yeah? Well, it ain't all that smart to talk about it, though, is it?” Johnny asked, chastising Short.

“Hello, boys, my name is Mattie,” one of the bar girls said as she stepped up to their table. “Can I get you something?”

“What are those men talking about?” Johnny asked. “Was your bank robbed?”

“Oh, yes, it was. And one of the girls who works here was in the bank when it was robbed.”

“Was she? Where is she now?”

“Mr. Johnson gave her the rest of the day off. It was quite a frightening experience for her.”

“Was it?”

“Yes, sir. The bank robbers killed poor Mr. Welch. Then one of them grabbed Cindy and held a gun to her head.” The bar girl shivered. “I just don't know what I would do if someone did something like that to me.”

“I guess that would have been pretty frightenin',” Johnny said.

“Now, what can I get you boys?” Mattie asked, her smile returning. “Beer? Whiskey?”

“How 'bout goin' upstairs with us?” Short asked.

“I don't do that,” Mattie replied.

“What do you mean you don't do that? You're workin' here, ain't you?”

“I, like the other girls who work here, am a hostess only,” Mattie said. “We'll serve you drinks, and if you buy us a drink we'll even sit down and spend some time with you. But we don't go upstairs with the customers. If you want that, you'll have to go down to the Wild Hog.”

“The women there are whores, are they?” Evans asked.

“The women there will go upstairs with the customers,” Mattie said without commenting on the word “whores.”

“Let's go down to the Wild Hog,” Calhoun suggested.

“Maybe later,” Johnny replied. “For now, let's stay here for a while. This seems like a nice place to have a drink.”

“Oh, it is,” Mattie said, smiling again. “Believe me, it is. I'll be right back with the beers.”

“Mattie, was you tellin' 'em about the bank robbery?” Curly Lathom called over to her. Lathom was the town barber, an occupation that was belied by the fact that there was not so much as one hair on his head.

“Yes,” Mattie replied. As she left for the beers, Curly Lathom came over to talk to four men.

“I don't know if Mattie told you, but they killed Danny Welch, who was as fine a man as you'll ever meet. Had a wife and two kids. They are an evil bunch of bastards, that's for sure,” Curly said.

“I heard some of the talk,” Johnny said. “Sounds like most of 'em got away.”

“Yeah, they did, but I don't reckon they'll be free for too long.”

“Why do you say that?” Johnny asked. “I just heard someone say that the posse lost all track of 'em.”

“That's true, but we got one of 'em over in the jail,” the customer said. “And I figure it's just a matter of time before he tells us ever'thing we want to know. I mean, once we start buildin' the gallows and he sees it goin' up just outside the jail window, he'll get that itch in his neck, if you know what I mean, and next thing you know he'll be singing like a bird.”

“Hey, Curly! You was wantin' in the card game, wasn't you? Well, we got us a seat open, now,” someone called from the other side of the room.

After Curly walked away, Johnny drummed his fingers on the table for a moment. “We need to get us some more men,” he said.

“What do we need more men, for?” Short asked.

“To get Emile out of jail.”

“You're goin' to take a chance on gettin' him out, are you?” Calhoun asked.

“Yeah,” Johnny said. “You got somethin' against that, do you?” he challenged.

“Here's the thing, Johnny. Emile knew the risk just like the rest of us did. Only problem is, him and Julius got themselves caught. Well, Emile got hisself caught. Julius didn't exactly get caught 'cause what he done was get hisself kilt.”

“I say he's your brother. If you want to take a chance on gettin' him out, then it's your problem, not ours,” Short added.

“Unless Emile starts talking,” Johnny said. “Then he becomes ever'body's problem.”

“You know Emile better'n any of us. You think he is liable to start talkin' do you?” Short asked.

“You heard what the man said. Once they build the gallows, who knows what Emile will do?”

“All right, maybe you got a point there. You got 'ny ideas on how to do it?”

“Like I said, we need about three, maybe four, more men.”

“I can get Jim and Leroy Blunt,” Short said.

“Who are they?”

“Just a couple of men I know, is all. They're good men too, but they ain't goin' to do it for free, and I sure don't feel like dividin' up any more of my money.”

“Do you think you could get them for two hundred fifty dollars?”

“Is that two hundred fifty together, or apiece? If it is two hundred fifty for the both of 'em, I'm not sure I could. But if it's two hundred fifty dollars for each one of 'em, why then, I reckon I could get 'em. But where we goin' to come up with the money? Like I said, I ain't givin' up any of mine.”

“Two hundred fifty apiece, and I'll take the money out of Emil's share,” Johnny said.

“Do you think you could come up with another two hundred fifty dollars? Because if you can, I'm pretty sure I can get my cousin, Ike Thomas, to come in with us,” Evans suggested.

“All right, good. Al, you get them two you was talkin' about, and Bart, you get your cousin. Like I said, I'll come up with the extra money from Emile's share. After all, he's the one we're tryin' to save, here.”

“So, after we get the extra men, what are we going to do? I mean, if you're plannin' on stormin' the jailhouse, well, you can just do it without me, even if we do have more men with us,” Calhoun said.

“No, I don't have anything like that in mind,” Johnny said.

“So, what do you have in mind?”

“I don't know yet. Let me think about it for a while.”

“We goin' to get us some whores while you're thinkin' about it?” Short asked.

“Hell yes, we are. That's one of the reasons we come into town, ain't it?” Evans asked.

“What do you mean one of the reasons?” Calhoun quipped. “Hell, that's the only reason I come to town.”

The others laughed.

“Then it looks to me like we're goin' to have to move down to the Wild Hog,” Short said.

“I agree,” Johnny said. “But I've always found that I enjoy women better when I'm doin' it with a full stomach. And right now, I'm thinkin' I'd like to get myself a steak and some taters.”

“Yeah, me too,” Calhoun said. “Them women ain't goin' nowhere. And a steak and taters sounds mighty damn good.”

“Seein' as you are the richest one of us, maybe you'll be buyin' our supper,” Evans suggested.

“We all came into town with the same amount of money in our pockets,” Johnny said. “And I done bought you all a drink.”

“He's right, Bart. Don't be so damn cheap,” Calhoun said.

 

 

After having drinks at Fiddler's Green, and generally enjoying themselves, in large part because of the satisfaction of knowing they were in plain sight of the very people who were looking for them, Johnny Taylor, Clay Calhoun, Bart Evans, and Al Short were now gathered at the City Cafe to have dinner. They were finalizing their plans for the rest of the evening, those plans being that after their meal they would go down to the Wild Hog and get women for the entire night.

“I don't think I've ever spent a whole night with a whore before,” Short said. “What's it like?”

“What do you mean, what's it like? You've been with a whore before, ain't you?” Calhoun asked.

“Yeah, but after you—uh—do it, what then? I mean, onliest time I've ever been with a whore before after I do it, well, I can't do it no second time.”

“Sure you can,” Calhoun said. “All you have to do is rest for a while, then the next thing you know, why, you're ready all over again.”

“Ha!” Short said. “Ha! Yeah, that's prob'ly right, ain't it.”

“Hell yes, it's right. I've done it lots of times,” Calhoun said.

“Johnny,” Evans said. “Johnny, look over there at the door. Look who's a-comin' in.”

“Damn, that's the fella we saw in the bank, remember?” Calhoun said.

“Yeah, and from what I've heard today, he's also the one that kilt Julius and shot Emile,” Evans said.

“And here the son of a bitch is, walkin' around just as bold as you please,” Short said.

“He ain't goin' to be walkin' around long, if I have my way about it,” Short said.

“Look at 'im, Johnny. You ain't even looked,” Evans said.

“I seen 'im,” Johnny said as he continued to stare at the food on his plate. “Don't nobody be starin' at him now. The whole trick about hidin' out is not drawin' attention to yourself.”

“Yeah, well, we shoulda kilt the son of a bitch when we had the chance, if you ask me,” Short said.

“We'll be gettin' the chance soon enough,” Johnny promised.

 

 

Because of the bank robbery this morning, as well as all the commotion that had come immediately afterward, Duff and Meagan had had to postpone their luncheon date, but they were making up for it by having dinner together tonight at the City Café.

“Hello, Mr. MacCallister, Miss Parker,” the maître d' said effusively. Quinton Collier had been a maitre d' at Delmonico's in New York and when Norman Lambert, who owned the City Café, had visited New York, he'd been so impressed by the maître d' that he'd hired him on the spot. It had done wonders for his business, for Collier was always dressed in a suit, and he brought just the right degree of snobbery to the restaurant to make it appear upper class.

“What's good tonight, Mr. Collier?” Duff asked.

“That's a trick question, Mr. MacCallister,” Collier said. “Everything here is good, you know that.”

Duff chuckled. “Aye, I'll nae be arguing with that, now.”

“I was in the kitchen and the cook just brought out a nice buffalo hump roast. You might want to try that.”

“Buffalo hump roast, is it? Well, that sounds good. I'll try that.”

“I will, as well,” Meagan said. She laughed.

“And would you be for tellin' me, lass, what it is that you find funny?”

“Sure 'n' 'tis the thought of a Scotsman like yourself eating buffalo,” Meagan said, perfectly imitating his brogue.

“Mocking me 'tis a cruel thing,” Duff said.

“But you are so easy to mock,” Meagan said, and she was rewarded with a broad smile.

“And as for eating buffalo hump, I've nae spent m' entire life in Scotland, now. I've eaten things that would turn the stomach of a buzzard.”

“You're not putting buffalo hump in that category, are you?”

“I'll wait and see how it tastes.”

“It's quite good, actually,” Meagan said.

“So, tell me, lass, did you finish the dress for Mrs. Guthrie?” Duff asked.

“I did. It's beautiful,” Meagan said.

“Sure now 'n' I hope the dress is beautiful, because you can nae say the same thing for Mrs. Guthrie.”

“Duff!” Meagan said, slapping his hand across the table, though she ameliorated the slap by laughing as she did so. “You are awful! Juanita Guthrie is a very attractive woman.”

Duff joined her in laughter. “Attractive, is she? Lass, you are choosing kindness over honesty. Sure 'n' if you were to tell the truth, you' be for admitting that Mrs. Guthrie is not what one would call a winsome lass.”