extension of the man.
He knows how to use it, Smoke thought. “It is all of that, young man, to be sure.”
“Name’s York.”
“Shirley DeBeers.”
York almost spilled his coffee down his shirtfront at that. He lifted his eyes. “You funnin’ me?”
Smoke smiled at his expression. “Actually, no. It’s a fine old family name. Is York your first or last name?” he inquired, knowing that it was not a question one asked in the West.
York looked at him closely. “You new out here, ain’t you?”
“Why, yes, as a matter of fact, I am. How did you know that Mr. York?”
The cowboy’s smile was quick. “Just a guess. And it’s just York.”
“Very well.” Smoke noticed that the young man’s eyes kept drifting to the pan of bacon and bread he had fixed for his supper. There were a few strips of bacon left, and about half a loaf of bread. “If you’re hungry, please help yourself. I have eaten my fill and I hate to throw away good food.”
“Thanks,” York said quickly and with a grin. “That’s right big of you. You don’t never have to worry ’bout tossin’ out no food when I’m around.” He fixed a huge sandwich and then used another piece of bread to sop up the grease in the pan.
Smoke guessed he had not eaten in several days.
When York had finished and not a crumb was left, he settled back and poured another cup of coffee. Smoke tossed him a sack of tobacco and papers.
York caught the sack and rolled and lit. “Thanks. That was good grub. Hit the spot, let me tell you. Anything I can do for you, you just let me know. Most”—he cut his eyes suspiciously—“most of the hombres around here wouldn’t give a man the time of day if they had a watch in every pocket. Sorry bastards.”
“I agree with you. But you be careful where you say things like that, York.”
York nodded his agreement. “Ain’t that the truth. Say, you don’t neither talk like nor look like a man that’s on the dodge, DeBeers.”
“On the dodge?” Smoke kept up his act. “Oh! Yes, I see what you mean now. Oh, no. I can assure you, I am not wanted by the authorities.”
York studied him across the small fire, confusion on his young face. “Then…what in the hell are you doin’ in a place like this?”
“Working. Sketching the West and some of its most infamous people. Mr. Davidson was kind enough to give me sanctuary and the run of the place.”
“And you believed him?”
Smoke only smiled.
“Yeah. You might look sorta silly—and I don’t mean no o-fence by that, it’s just that you dress different—but I got a hunch you ain’t dumb.”
“Thank you.” Smoke was not going to fall into any verbal traps, not knowing if York was a plant to sound him out.
The cowboy sipped his coffee and smoked for a moment. “You really come in here without havin’ to, huh?”
“That is correct.”
“Weird. But,” he shrugged, “I reckon you have your reasons. Me, now, I didn’t have no choice at all in the matter.”
“We all have choices, young man. But sometimes they are disguised and hard to make.”
“Whatever that means. Anyways, I’m on the hard dodge, I am.”
He tried to sound proud about that statement, but to Smoke, it came across flat and with a definite note of sadness.
“I’m very sorry to hear that, York. Is it too personal to talk about?”
“Naw. I killed a man in Utah.”
Smoke studied him. “You don’t sound like a man who would cold-bloodedly kill another man.”
“Huh? Oh, no. It wasn’t nothin’ like that. It was a stand-up-and-face-him-down fight. But the law didn’t see it thataway. I guess near’bouts all these people in this lousy town would claim they was framed, but I really was.” He poured another cup of coffee and settled back against a stump, apparently anxious to talk and have somebody hear him out. “You see, I bought a horse from this feller. It was a good horse for fifty dollars. Too good, as it turned out. I had me a bill of sale and all that. Then these folks come ridin’ up to me about a week later and claimed I stole the horse. They had ’em a rope all ready to stretch my neck. I showed ’em my bill of sale and that backed ’em down some. But they was still gonna take the horse and leave me afoot in the Uintahs. Well, I told ’em that they wasn’t gonna do no such a thing. I told ’em that if the horse was rightfully theirs, well, I was wrong and they was right. But let me get to a town ’fore they took the horse; don’t leave me in the big middle of nowheres on foot.”
He sighed and took a swallow of coffee. “They allowed as to how I could just by God walk out of there. I told them they’d better drag iron if that’s what they had in mind, ’cause I damn sure wasn’t gonna hoof it outta there.
“Well, they dragged iron, but I was quicker. I kilt one and put lead in the other. The third one, he turned yeller and run off.
“I got the hell outta there and drifted. Then I learned that I had a murder charge hangin’ over my head. That third man who run off? He told a pack of lies about what really happened.
