The Gunfighter Page 5

  “There’s never been no better,” I said.

  “I wouldn’ta had Happy nor no one else up here like that,” she said, “except for you taken to walking your wife home again.”

  “Forget it, Bonnie,” I said. “Hell, it don’t matter no more.”

  “You ain’t mad?” she said.

  “Hell, no,” I said. “I ain’t mad.”

  “You know, Baijack,” she said, but I never let her finish what she was fixing to say.

  “I know,” I said. “I made a hell of a mistake whenever I married that woman. She charmed me like a goddamn witch woman or something. She trapped me into it, and now there ain’t no way out. It’s all true, and I know it, and I don’t want no more talk about it.”

  “All right,” she said, “but from now on, why don’t you just stay right here? Leave her with the house and the White Owl. You and me’ll be just fine here at the Hooch House. This is our kinda place anyhow, Baijack. You and me’re right at home here.”

  I didn’t give her no answer just then, but I was thinking that she couldn’ta been no more right about that. Besides, if I was to go back to the house, ole Lillian might get off a better shot the next time. I give ole Bonnie a sloppy kiss, and then I said, “Someone’ll have to go get my clothes and my guns.”

  “I’ll take care of that tomorrow while she’s at the White Owl,” Bonnie said.

  “You do that for me, Bonnie, ole gal,” I said. “You know, I been thinking about what you said a bit ago.”

  “Yeah?” she said. “What’s that?”

  “About me just staying here,” I said. “I think that’s a hell of a good idea, and I’m thinking that I might just do that.”

  “Oh, Baijack,” she said, and she flung herself on me and mashed her lips against mine and like to smothered me to death before she let up. Then she said, “You want me to pour you a drink, baby?”

  Chapter Five

  I was having my breakfast of eggs and whiskey in the Hooch House the next morning whenever ole Happy come a-running in like as if Jesse James and his gang was a-headed for the bank. “Baijack,” he hollered, “come quick! There’s big trouble!”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I said.

  “Sam Hooper and Silver Spike Hanlon,” he said. “They’re a-fixing to shoot it out right out there on the street.”

  “Oh, hell,” I said. I jerked the napkin out from under my chin and throwed it down hard right on top of my plate of food, which was only just about half et, and I stood up fast and knocked my chair over backwards. “Goddamn it,” I said. “Can’t a man have a breakfast in peace around this here town?”

  “Someone’s going to get killed, Baijack,” Happy said.

  “Well, whyn’t you stop them?” I asked him on my way to the door.

  “I tried,” Happy said, “but ole Silver Spike aimed a six-gun at me and told me to mind my own business.”

  We both hit the door about the same time, and I had to shove Happy outa the way so I could get through it. He follered me on outside. I stopped on the sidewalk and looked down the street. I seen Sam Hooper first. He was standing on the boardwalk just in front of the White Owl, and he was holding a gun down at his side. I looked down the street where he seemed to be a-looking, and sure enough, there was ole Silver Spike Hanlon, and he was a-holding a shooter in his hand, too. There was four cowhands on horses back behind ole Silver Spike. I walked out in the middle of the street, kinda right between the two of them. I hitched my britches up over my belly and harrumphed real loud.

  “Hold ever’thing here,” I called out. “What the hell is this all about?”

  “The son of a bitch hired a killer to get me,” Silver Spike said. “I come to get him first. It’s a matter of self-defense. You just stay out of it, Baijack. It’s between me and Hooper. It ain’t got nothing to do with the law.”

  “If you’re a-fixing to discharge firearms on the street of my town,” I said, “then I reckon it’s the law’s business, and by God, it’s mine.”

  “It’s five against one,” Hooper yelled from over in front of the White Owl. “He can’t even fight me fair. Besides, I never sent for Sly. He done it, ’cause he’s afraid to fight me fair.”

  “What about them four cowboys?” I said to ole Silver Spike.

  He looked over his shoulder at the boys a-setting horseback.

  “I don’t need them,” he said. “They just come in with me ’cause I didn’t know how many Hooper was bringing along with him. You boys can ride on back to the ranch.” The four cowhands hesitated a bit, and then Silver Spike said, “Go on now. I mean it. You want ever’one in town to think I’m a-skeered of Sam Hooper? Go on.”

  The four turned their horses and rode on out. Ever’one was quiet and just stood there a-watching till they was well gone. Then I figgered it was time for me to take charge again. “Come on out here, boys,” I said. “Come on over here to me.” The both of them just kinda looked at me and then looked back at each other. “Goddamn it,” I yelled, “holster them six-guns and walk over here.”

  It took a minute of thinking on his part, but final ole Hooper shoved his gun in the holster and commenced to moving slowly toward me. Silver Spike waited even longer, but then he done the same thing. They come up one on each side of me, but they never looked at me. They was a-staring hard at each other, and I could see a killing mood in both of their faces.

  “You ain’t going to stop this, Baijack,” Hooper said. “That son of a bitch has been wanting to kill me for nigh onto fifteen years.”

  “But I ain’t never took a shot at you, have I?” Silver Spike said. “I never gave you no call to bring in a professional killer.”

  “I never did,” Hooper said. “You keep saying that so Baijack won’t believe that it was you that hired him, which you did.”

  “Shut the hell up, the both of you,” I said. “Each one of you keeps accusing the other’n of bringing in the Widdermaker. Did it ever come into your brains through your thick skulls that maybe neither one of you done it? Hell, ole Rumproast come in here the other day and got hisself shot and throwed in jail ’cause he was so sure that Sly come after him. He couldn’ta come after ever’one. And he told me he didn’t come after no one. He come for a rest and that’s all.”

  “He would say that,” Silver Spike said.

  “Now, I want the both of you to turn around and get on your horses and ride on outa town,” I said. They never moved. “I mean it,” I said. “Right now.”

  “If I turn around,” Hooper said, “Silver Spike’ll shoot me in the back.”

  “He says that ’cause he knows that’s what he’s planning to do to me,” Silver Spike said.

  Outa the comer of my eye I seen ole Happy sneaking up on the blind side of them two ornery cusses, and he was a-carrying a shotgun. I was sure glad to see him, and I was hoping he’d get close enough to use it before either one of them old bastards was to try something.

  “There ain’t nothing I can say to get you to call this here thing off?” I asked.

  “We’ll call it off after one of us is dead,” Hooper said.

  “All right, then,” I said. “Let me have your guns.”

  I held out my hand right in between them and waited, but neither one of the two old farts made no move. Happy come up closer, and he pointed that greener in the general direction of the three of us. I hoped that it never occured to Hooper and Hanlon that if Happy was to for real shoot that thing, he’d kill all three of us. And I hoped that Happy was aware of that simple fact too.

  “Unbuckle your belts,” he said out loud.

  They looked over and seen Happy with that scattergun aimed in their direction, and then they started in to unbuckling. Hanlon got his off first and handed it over to me. “That was a dirty trick, Baijack,” he said. Then Hooper handed me his. I throwed the belts over my shoulder, and I turned to walk up on the sidewalk.

  “Have at it now, you two old bastards,” I said. “Go on. Happy, grab us a couple of chairs over t
here. We’ll set and watch.”

  “What do you mean?” Hooper said.

  Me and ole Happy took us our seats there in front of the general store and leaned them back against the wall. Happy kept that shotgun across his knees.

  “You two come in here to fight,” I said. “So fight.”

  They looked at each other, and they looked at me. I never seen two such stupid-looking old men before in my whole entire damn life.

  “You mean, just start slugging?” Hooper said.

  “Slugging, kicking, biting,” I said. “I don’t give a damn, so long as you ain’t shooting. Oh, yeah, no knives neither.”

  “How about clubs?” Happy said.

  “Hell, if one of them can get ahold of one, let him use it,” I said. “Well, hell, boys, we’re a-waiting.”

  By this time quite a little crowd had gethered up along both sides of the street to see what was going on, and the two old bastards was getting more than a little embarrassed. Ole Peester come a-walking up to me just then.

  “What’s this all about, Baijack?” he said.

  “Not much,” I said. “These two old relics here come into town a-wanting to kill each other, but I took away their guns. Now they won’t fight. I think they’re really a-skeered of each other.”

  “I ain’t scared of him,” Hooper said, looking over at me. “I just ain’t going to take the first swing, that’s all.”

  Just then ole Silver Spike swung a wild right and caught Hooper alongside the jaw, and ole Hooper staggered back a few steps and fell back on his ass a-setting up. He set there a few seconds a-rubbing his jaw. Then he managed to get up onto his feet, and he doubled up his both fists and started stepping in toward Silver Spike.

  “Try that again, you coward,” he said. “I wasn’t looking. Try it again.”

  Ole Sam Hooper started in to dancing around Silver Spike Hanlon, and Silver Spike was a-tuming to foller him, and for a spell the two ole farts just kinda danced around with each other like that. Then one of them, I can’t recall just which one, or maybe I never really could tell in the first place, but one of them throwed a punch, and then the two of them was swinging with both fists as fast as they could. The trouble was, neither one of them landed on nothing but the other’n’s arms and shoulders. Even so, pretty soon they was both red in the face and and a-puffing real hard. Then they kinda backed off and stood panting and staring at the ground.

  “You two had enough?” I called out to them. Ole Silver Spike shot me a mean and dirty look.

  “Hell no,” he said. “I’m just taking a breather.”

  Sam Hooper took advantage of Silver Spike a-looking over at me, and he driv a hard right into ole Silver Spike’s belly. Silver Spike doubled over with a loud whoof, and he just stood there like that, his knees bent a little and leaning way over at the waist a-looking at the ground between his feet. Someone out in the crowd gelled out, “Finish him off, Sam,” but Sam never. He just stood there a-looking at ole Silver Spike bent double.

  Just then ole Herman Sly come a-walking outa the White Owl. He seen the crowd a-gethered around there, and then he seen the two old men in the street. He figgered out what was up, all right. He stepped down offa the board sidewalk and walked across the street behind ole Sam Hooper’s back and come on over to where I was a-setting with Happy Bonapart, and Happy still with that shotgun laying across his knees.

  “Marshal Barjack,” he said by way of greeting.

  “Howdy there, Mister Sly,” I said.

  “What’s all this about,” he said, “if I may ask?”

  “I reckon you may,” I said. “It’s just two old goddamned fools what has hated each other for fifteen years, and now that you’re in town, why, each one swears the other’n sent for you to do him in. They come into town to shoot each other, but I took away their irons and made them duke it out, as you see here.”

  “You probably made a wise decision, Marshal,” he said. “I’m sorry to be the cause of so much trouble in your town. This sort of thing happens almost anywhere I stop. Excuse me.”

  He touched the brim of his hat and walked on into the Hooch House.

  “Well, I be damned,” I said.

  “What?” Happy said.

  “He ain’t even sticking around to watch the fight what he hisself is the cause of,” I said. “You ever know of a man to walk away from a fight like that?”

  “They ain’t much fighting going on right now,” Happy said, and I looked back out in the street, and he was right as rain. Ole Silver Spike had just straightened his-self up and was kinda stretching and holding his sides and sucking in air real deep-like. Whenever he straightened hisself, ole Sam Hooper put up his dukes again and commenced to dancing some more. That one punch had give his confidence a hell of a boost.

  “Come on,” he said. “Come on.”

  Well, they started in their wild swinging again, doing about as much damage as they had did before, mostly, ‘course, to their lungs, but ole Silver Spike, he seemed to be doing the most damage, meaning only that he was a-making Sam Hooper back up a little bit. But you know, once a feller starts into backing, it’s damn difficult to stop it. Ole Sam, he kept on a-swinging, but he also kept on a-backing, and the more he backed the faster ole Silver Spike come forward at him. The next thing you know, ole Sam had backed right into a watering trough, and whenever he done that, why, he just natural-like tumbled over backwards into it, and ole Silver Spike was a-moving so hard and fast into Sam that he went on in on top of Sam.

  Well, there was a mighty splash, and the crowd give a hoot and a holler and commenced to hoorawing something crazy. In that trough, what seemed kinda little now with them two big bastards a-floundering around in it, Sam and Silver Spike was all tangled together. They flapped their arms and legs around, a-trying to get loose from one another and trying to get up outa the trough, and they was a-spitting and a-spluttering like someone what had fell into the middle of the river off the side of a damned ole riverboat.

  Final, ole Silver Spike managed to get his ass outa the trough, and right after that Sam heaved his own self out. The two of them was standing there a-dripping and a-trying to shake water off theirselves, and the crowd was laughing like hell. Just as the laughing kinda died down a bit, someone out there yelled out, “That’s the first bath ole Sam Hooper’s had in a year,” and the roar went up again. I got up and I said to Happy, “Bring them two assholes into the Hooch House.” I went on inside to wait.

  I picked out a different table from what I had been at before, ‘cause I seen right away that ole Aubrey had never bothered to pick up my breakfast plate. I got my bottle and tumbler offa the table first, though, and when Happy come in with the two still-dripping-wet combatants, I was setting there a-sipping whiskey. I waved them on over to my table. Both fighters was a-hanging their wet heads and looking kinda shamefaced. “Happy,” I said, “go get three more glasses.” Happy headed for the bar, and I said, “Set down.”

  They set with a empty chair between them, and neither one of them looked up at me. I just let them set there quiet-like till Happy come back. Then I poured four drinks, and I shoved them all around the table. Happy said, “Thanks, Baijack.”

  “Shut up,” I said. Then, to them two old fools, I said, “Drink up. It’s on the town of Asininity.”

  They each picked up a glass and took a sip.

  “Take a good swaller,” I said, and they did. “Now,” I said, “how do you feel?”

  Neither one give me a answer.

  “Do you feel any better now that you’ve fit?” I said. “Hell, you been wanting to do that for fifteen years, ain’t you? So do you feel any better?”

  I took me another drink a-waiting for an answer, but I still never got none. I said, “Just what was it started this here fight in the first place?”

  “You made us do it, Barjack,” Sam said.

  “Hell,” I said, “I don’t mean just now. I mean fifteen year ago. What started it?”

  I swear to God, them two old farts wa
s just like a mirror image. Right at the exact same time they turned and pointed a finger at the other’n and said right together, “He did.”

  “Damn it,” I said. “I didn’t ask you who started it. I asked you what started it. What was it all over?”

  “Well,” said Sam, but he never got no further.

  “Well, he went and … ,” said Silver Spike, but he kinda got stuck for words, too.

  “You don’t even know no more, do you?” I said. “Neither one of you?”

  “They don’t know?” Happy said.

  “Shut up, Happy,” I said. I drank up the rest of the whiskey what was in my glass, and then I told the others, “Drink up,” and they did, and I poured another round. Well, I kept on like that for a while, a-talking and a — belittling them two and a-drinking and a-pouring drinks all around, and by and by I had the both of them wobbly-legged drunk. Ole Happy, too. Then I looked around till I seen ole Sly a-setting off by hisself a-drinking coffee, and I waved him over. He stood up and come over to where we was at.

  “You want me, Marshal?” he asked.

  “That’s how come me to wave at you,” I said. “Mister Sly, I reckon it might could be a violation of your professional ethics or code or something, but I want to ask you a question, and I would appreciate it a whole hell of a lot if you was to give me a straight and honest answer right here in front of these two silly ole sons a bitches. Would you do that for me, do you reckon?”

  “I don’t know that until I hear the question, Marshal,” Sly said, “but I will promise you this much. If I give you an answer at all, it will be a truthful one.”

  “Well, I’ll just have to settle for that, I reckon,” I said. “Now here’s the question.” I turned on the two fighters. “I want you two to pay attention to this here, too. Now, Mister Sly,” I went on, “did you, sir, come to town with the intent of killing either one of these two old fools?” “Marshal,” he said, “I did not.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I said, and Sly went back to his coffee. “Now, are you two satisfied with that?” I asked. “I, um, I guess so,” Hooper said final.