Shoot Him On Sight

Webster, I figured, would do a lot of thinking.

I suggested that Jeff take Mike for a ride over the spread, let him get acquainted with the outfit. If I could prevent it, Mike would never leave my side again, and maybe, eventually, I could persuade Old Pablo and Mama Josefa to move their interests to this part of the country. Mike and Jeff finally fell in with my idea and I saw them ride off. Already they were getting along like brothers. Once they were out of sight, I asked Mama Benita to make up some sandwiches in a basket for me. I saw old Mateo look queerly at me, then smile and leave. Within a short time he was back with a bottle of wine to place in the basket.

I said, 'What the hell?'

Mateo chuckled. 'No vaquero carries a lunch basket to ride to Onyxton, unless he is planning what—how you say? A picnic? Si, that is the word. And it is said that wine will loosen a woman's lips and soften her heart.'

I looked curiously at the old Mexican. He was shrewd, all right, guessing what I had in mind. I said, 'Apparently, you do not take the same view of Miss Topaz as does Jeff.'

Mateo shrugged. 'Who am I to judge anyone? If the Senorita Topaz has strayed from the path of righteousness for a time, what matters? Always there is someone to show the right way, if she cares to listen. I, too, in my youth had a boiling of the hot blood, and knew many women. When came a time to settle, it made no difference to Mama Benita. Why should it not be what is right for a man, is also right for the woman? Vaya con Dios, my son.'

I felt warm all over. What a man was old Mateo, generous, understanding. When I left on my buckskin, I led behind me a second horse, and roped to the saddle was the picnic basket.

It was nearing ten when I struck Onyxton. Instead of riding into town, I tethered the ponies down near the T.N. & A.S. station, then started on foot for Topaz' house. It was only about five minutes walk distant. When I arrived at the whitewashed adobe, her shades were drawn and I wondered if she had already left for the Onyx Bar. I glanced either way along the street, but there was no one to be seen, except a couple of kids playing in the road, a block distant. I entered the gate, passed through, closed it behind me, then approached the door and knocked.

I heard steps within, then Topaz opened the door. 'Johnny!' she exclaimed. 'You shouldn't be here—'

'What I should be doing and what I'm doing are two different things,' I told her. 'May I come in?'

She shook her head. 'It wouldn't be wise, Johnny. Why did you come?'

'Topaz, you and I have to have a talk. It can't be delayed longer. I've brought an extra horse in with me. I hoped I could persuade you to take a ride—'

'No, Johnny. It wouldn't be safe for you. Or me.'

'Say yes, Topaz. The horses are down by the depot. I can bring them here—'

'Johnny, we'd be crazy—'

'It might be fun, too,' I grinned. I could see she was slipping. 'How about it?'

'Don't bring the horses here. Some of Shel's men might see us. Look here, I'm a fool, but I'll go. I'll meet you at the depot at noon.'

'Topaz—' I had no time to say more, as the door closed quickly in my face.

Mister, I was riding on clouds when I left her house, practically bursting into song. I slowed down after a minute and walked over toward Main Street. There were the usual collections of hoodlums scattered along the thoroughfare, and I received the usual respectful nods. I entered the Onyx bar. There were several men there, imbibing some of the hair of the dog that bit them to banish their hangovers. Shel Webster, face dark under his very whitish-blond hair, was talking to Turk Hofer at the far end of the bar. I sauntered up and joined them. Instantly, they stopped talking.

I said cheerfully, 'Morning, gents.'

They both frowned at me. Webster said, 'Give him a drink, Turk. On me. He may not have another chance.'

I didn't like the sound of that, but I laughed and told Turk, 'Beer—not warm, and not frozen.' Turk moved down the bar.

Webster scowled. 'What you doing in town, Cardinal?'

I appeared surprised. 'Came in for the obsequies, of course. Tried to buy flowers, but—'

'What obsequies you talking about?'

'Are we not about to say a fond farewell to our dear departed brother—Hondo Crowell?'

Webster looked disgusted. 'Of all the buffalo-chips I ever heard! Pretty damn cocky, aren't you, Cardinal?'

I laughed in his face. 'That's my natural act, Shel. Don't tell me you're not going to have proper services for your murderin' jackal.'

Webster swore. 'There's a dump heap out beyond town. I give orders to have him planted there.'

'Seems right appropriate,' I nodded. Turk brought my bottle of beer and a glass. It was just right. I wiped foam from my lips. 'Actually, I rode in to see if there was any mail for the Box-CT. There wasn't. So now I'll be riding back.'

'You staying out there?'

'I slept there last night.'

'What's back of it?'

'Hell, do you have to ask? Didn't I tell you I was going to get acquainted with Tawney? Anything wrong in that? You know what we talked about.'

He frowned uncertainly. 'Look here, Cardinal, I've decided to raise my price to seven-fifty—'

'My price is a thousand, as I told you.'

'Seven-fifty, and that only on condition Tawney is rubbed out within the next two-three days.'

I put down my glass, turned and started off.

Shelby rasped, 'Where you going?'

I paused. 'I can't waste more time discussing chicken-feed with a cheap-jack.'

'Come back a minute,' he scowled.

I returned to the bar. Finished off my beer, then, 'What's on your mind?'

'Cardinal,' he stated venomously, 'I think you've stalled long enough. I'm beginning to think you're all bluff —'

'You're just thinking that—you're not sure,' I said brazenly, though my heart started to beat faster. Maybe this was that showdown I'd been thinking of. 'You'd like to hire my gun, but you're not sure where I stand, whether you can trust me to keep my mouth shut. Isn't that it?'

He looked a bit startled and I knew I'd hit the target.

'We-ell,' he started uncertainly. 'I—'

'Meanwhile,' I cut in, 'you go on putting your trust in a bunch of lunkheads, as you called them. Now, I ask you, is that good sense?'

'I use the material at hand,' he growled. 'I'm not sure but what if you're one of the same lunkheads. I was a fool to trust you—'

'Of course you were,' I laughed. 'This is a town of lunkheads, and I'm not making any exceptions.'

A flush rose to his cheeks, then he forced a thin smile, in an attempt to be affable and prolong the conversation. 'Now look,' he protested, 'there's no use you and me making war-talk. But confess, you're not as fast with your gun as you claim. Sure, you got Hondo Crowell last night, but you say there were two others. A fast man would have had all three.'

'With the start they had?' I guffawed. 'Hell, Webster, I'm the only gun-slinger in town who could've got one of those skunks.'

He stiffened. 'I'm not so sure of that,' he muttered.

'Want to try proving it?' I sneered.

'How? What do you mean?'

'Get out that hide-out gun of yours, and we'll go to work.' I started to back off a step. So there it was—a challenge. I waited, tense, for him to make a move, while my knees were practically knocking together. But he wasn't up to it. He shook his head, trying to speak words that wouldn't come, and placed both hands on the bar in front of him. I could almost hear the sudden silence from the other men at the bar behind us.