True Grit (9 page)

I put a bridle on him but I could not lift Papa's saddle easily and I had the smith saddle him. He offered to ride the pony first. I said I thought I could handle him. I climbed gingerly aboard. Little Blackie did nothing for a minute or so and then he took me by surprise and pitched twice, coming down hard with his forelegs stiff, giving severe jolts to my "tailbone" and neck. I would have been tossed to the ground had I not grabbed the saddle horn and a handful of mane. I could get a purchase on nothing else, the stirrups being far below my feet. The smith laughed but I was little concerned with good form or appearance. I rubbed Blackie's neck and talked softly to him. He did not pitch again but neither would he move forward.

"He don't know what to make of a rider so light as you," said the smith. "He thinks they is a horsefly on his back."

He took hold of the reins near the pony's mouth and coaxed him to walk. He led him around inside the big barn for a few minutes, then opened one of the doors and took him outside. I feared the daylight and cold wind would set Blackie off anew, but no, I had made me a "pal."

The smith let go of the reins and I rode the pony down the muddy street at a walk. He was not very responsive to the reins and he worried his head around over the bit. It took me a while to get him turned around. He had been ridden before but not, I gathered, in a good long time. He soon fell into it. I rode him about town until he was lightly sweating.

When I got back to the barn the smith said, "He ain't so mean, is he?"

I said, "No, he is a fine pony."

I adjusted the stirrups up as high as they would go and the smith unsaddled Little Blackie and put him in a stall. I fed him some corn but only a small measured amount as I was afraid he might founder himself on the rich grain. Stonehill had been feeding the ponies largely on hay.

It was growing late in the day. I hurried over to Lee's store, very proud of my horse and full of excitement at the prospect of tomorrow's adventure. My neck was sore from being snapped but that was a small enough bother, considering the enterprise that was afoot.

I went in the back door without knocking and found Rooster sitting at the table with the man LaBoeuf. I had forgotten about him.

"What are you doing here?" said I.

"Hidy," said LaBoeuf. "I am having a conversation with the marshal. He did not go to Little Rock after all. It is a business conversation."

Rooster was eating candy. He said, "Set down, sis, and have a piece of taffy. This jaybird calls himself LaBoeuf. He claims he is a State Ranger in Texas. He come up here to tell us how the cow eat the cabbage."

I said, "I know who he is."

"He says he is on the track of our man. He wants to throw in with us."

"I know what he wants and I have already told him we are not interested in his help. He has gone behind my back."

"What is it?" said Rooster. "What is the trouble?"

"There is no trouble, except of his own making," said I. "He made a proposition and I turned it down. That is all. We don't need him."

"Well now, he might come in handy," said Rooster. "It will not cost us anything. He has a big-bore Sharps carbine if we are jumped by buffaloes or elephants. He says he knows how to use it. I say let him go. We might run into some lively work."

"No, we don't need him," said I. "I have already told him that. I have got my horse and everything is ready. Have you seen to all your business?"

Rooster said, "Everything is ready but the grub and it is working. The chief deputy wanted to know who had done them sheets. He said he would put you on down there at good wages if you want a job. Potter's wife is fixing the eats. She is not what I call a good cook but she is good enough and she needs the money."

LaBoeuf said, "I reckon I must have the wrong man. Do you let little girls hooraw you, Cogburn?"

Rooster turned his cold right eye on the Texan. "Did you say hooraw?"

"Hooraw," said LaBoeuf. "That was the word."

"Maybe you would like to see some real hoorawing."

"There is no hoorawing in it," said I. "The marshal is working for me. I am paying him."

"How much are you paying him?" asked LaBoeuf.

"That is none of your affair."

"How much is she paying you, Cogburn?"

"She is paying enough," said Rooster.

"Is she paying five hundred dollars?"

"No."

"That is what the Governor of Texas has put up for Chelmsford."

"You don't say so," said Rooster. He thought it over. Then he said, "Well, it sounds good but I have tried to collect bounties from states and railroads too. They will lie to you quicker than a man will. You do good to get half what they say they will pay. Sometimes you get nothing. Anyhow, it sounds queer. Five hundred dollars is mightly little for a man that killed a senator."

"Bibbs was a little senator," said LaBoeuf. "They would not have put up anything except it would look bad."

"What is the terms?" said Rooster.

"Payment on conviction."

Rooster thought that one over. He said, "We might have to kill him."

"Not if we are careful."

"Even if we don't they might not convict him," said Rooster. "And even if they do, by the time they do there will be a half dozen claims for the money from little top-water peace officers down there. I believe I will stick with sis."

"You have not heard the best part," said LaBoeuf.

"The Bibbs family has put up fifteen hundred dollars for Chelmsford."

"Have they now?" said Rooster. "The same terms?"

"No, the terms are these: just deliver Chelmsford up to the sheriff of McLennan County, Texas. They don't care if he is alive or dead. They pay off as soon as he is identified."

"That is more to my liking," said Rooster. "How do you figure on sharing the money?"

LaBoeuf said, "If we take him alive I will split that fifteen hundred dollars down the middle with you and claim the state reward for myself. If we have to kill him I will give you a third of the Bibbs money. That is five hundred dollars."

"You mean to keep all the state money yourself?"

"I have put in almost four months on this job. I think it is owing to me."

"Will the family pay off?"

LaBoeuf replied, "I will be frank to say the Bibbses are not loose with their money. It holds to them like the cholera to a nigger. But I guess they will have to pay. They have made public statements and run notices in the paper. There is a son, Fatty Bibbs, who wants to run for the man's seat in Austin. He will be obliged to pay."

He took the reward notices and newspaper cuttings out of his corduroy coat and spread them out on the table. Rooster looked them over for some little time. He said, "Tell me what your objection is, sis. Do you wish to cut me out of some extra money?"

I said, "This man wants to take Chaney back to Texas. That is not what I want. That was not our agreement."

Rooster said, "We will be getting him all the same. What you want is to have him caught and punished. We still mean to do that."

"I want him to know he is being punished for killing my father. It is nothing to me how many dogs and fat men he killed in Texas."

"You can let him know that," said Rooster. "You can tell him to his face. You can spit on him and make him eat sand out of the road. You can put a ball in his foot and I will hold him while you do it. But we must catch him first. We will need some help. You are being stiff-necked about this. You are young. It is time you learned that you cannot have your way in every little particular. Other people have got their interests too."

"When I have bought and paid for something I will have my way. Why do you think I am paying you if not to have my way?"

LaBoeuf said, "She is not going anyhow. I don't understand this conversation. It is not sensible. I am not used to consulting children in my business. Run along home, little britches, your mama wants you."

"Run home yourself," said I. "Nobody asked you to come up here wearing your big spurs."

"I told her she could go," said Rooster. "I will see after her."

"No," said LaBoeuf. "She will be in the way."

Rooster said, "You are taking a lot on yourself."

LaBoeuf said, "She will spell nothing but trouble and confusion. You know that as well as I do. Stop and think. She has got you buffaloed with her saucy ways."

Rooster said, "Maybe I will just catch this Chaney myself and take all the money."

LaBoeuf considered it. "You might deliver him," he said. "I would see you did not collect anything for it."

"How would you do that, jaybird?"

"I would dispute your claim. I would muddy the waters. They will not want much to back down. When it is all over they might shake your hand and thank you for your trouble and they might not."

"If you did that I would kill you," said Rooster. "Where is your profit?"

"Where is yours?" said LaBoeuf. "And I would not count too much on being able to shade somebody I didn't know."

"I can shade you all right," said Rooster. "I never seen anybody from Texas I couldn't shade. Get cross-ways of me, LaBoeuf, and you will think a thousand of brick has fell on you. You will wisht you had been at the Alamo with Travis."

"Knock him down, Rooster," said I.

LaBoeuf laughed. He said, "I believe she is trying to hooraw you again. Look here, I have had enough quarreling. Let us get on with our business. You have done your best to accommodate this little lady, more than most people would do, and yet she will still be contrary. Send her on her way. We will get her man. That is what you agreed to do. What if something happens to her? Have you thought about that? Her people will blame you and maybe the law will have something to say too. Why don't you think about yourself? Do you think she is concerned with your interest? She is using you. You have got to be firm."

Rooster said, "I would hate to see anything happen to her."

"You are thinking about that reward money," said I. "It is a pig in a poke. All you have heard from LaBoeuf is talk and I have paid you cash money. If you believe anything he says I do not credit you with much sense. Look at him grin. He will cheat you."

Rooster said, "I must think about myself some too, sis."

I said, "Well, what are you going to do? You cannot carry water on both shoulders."

"We will get your man," said he. "That is the main thing."

"Let me have my twenty-five dollars. Hand it over."

"I have spent it all."

"You sorry piece of trash!"

"I will try and get it back to you. I will send it to you."

"That's a big story! If you think you are going to cheat me like this you are mistaken! You have not seen the last of Mattie Ross, not by a good deal!"

I was so mad I could have bitten my tongue off. Sterling Price the cat sensed my mood and he tucked his ears back and scampered from my path, giving me a wide berth.

I suppose I must have cried a little but it was a cold night and by the time I reached the Monarch my anger had cooled to the point where I could think straight and lay plans. There was not time enough to get another detective. Lawyer Daggett would be up here soon looking for me, probably no later than tomorrow. I thought about making a complaint to the head marshal. No, there was time for that later. I would have Lawyer Daggett skin Rooster Cogburn and nail his verminous hide to the wall. The important thing was not to lose sight of my object and that was to get Tom Chaney.

I took supper and then set about getting my things together. I had Mrs. Floyd prepare some bacon and biscuits and make little sandwiches of them. But not so little as all that, as one of her biscuits would have made two of Mama's. Very flat though, she skimped on baking powder. I also bought a small wedge of cheese from her and some dried peaches. These things I secured in a sack.

Mrs. Floyd was alive with curiosity and I told her I was going over into the Territory with some marshals to look at a man they had arrested. This did not satisfy her by any means but I pleaded ignorance of details. I told her I would likely be gone for several days and if my mother or Lawyer Daggett made inquiries (a certainty) she was to reassure them as to my safety.

I rolled up the blankets with the sack of food inside and then wrapped the slicker around the roll and made it fast with some twine. I put Papa's heavy coat on over my own coat. I had to turn the cuffs back. My little hat was not as thick and warm as his so I traded. Of course it was too big and I had to fold up some pages from the
New Era
and stick them inside the band to make for a snug fit. I took my bundle and my gun sack and left for the stock barn.

Stonehill was just leaving when I got there. He was singing the hymn
Beulah Land
to himself in a low bass voice. It is one of my favorites. He stopped singing when he saw me.

"It is you again," said he. "Is there some complaint about the pony?"

"No, I am very happy with him," said I. "Little Blackie is my 'chum.'"

"A satisfied customer gladdens the heart."