“Montgomery is going to have to find a new shotgun guard and a new driver,” Dempster said. “Cause I aim to shoot you right between the eyes.”
“No, Dempster, Ben ain’t armed!” one of the other customers shouted.
Glancing toward the driver, Pearlie saw that he wasn’t armed. Looking back toward Dempster, he saw that the angry man was drawing his pistol.
Acting instinctively, Pearlie threw his beer mug at Dempster. The mug hit Dempster on the side of his head, and Dempster dropped like a poleaxed steer.
“Damn, mister, I reckon you just saved my life,” Ben said.
“I reckon I did,” Pearlie replied.
Ben sighed. “Now I’m going to have to find someone to ride shotgun with me tomorrow.”
“No, you won’t,” Pearlie said.
“What do you mean, I won’t?”
“You just found someone,” Pearlie said.
“You?”
“Me.”
“All right, I tell you what. I’ll tell Mr. Montgomery about you. You come on down to the depot before the stage leaves tomorrow, and you talk to him. If he’s willing to hire you, it’s fine with me.”
“What time does the stage leave?”
“It leaves at eight in the morning.”
“I’ll be there.”
Pearlie spent the night on the ground, just outside of town. When he rode back in the next morning, he saw the stagecoach sitting out in front of the depot. The team had not yet been connected, but hostlers were over in front of the barn, putting the team into harness.
The words on the side of the coach, painted in red and outlined in gold, read, SUNSET STAGE COACH LINE. Pearlie glanced around for the driver, but didn’t see him. For a moment, he considered waiting until he did see the driver; then he decided it would be best to just go on into the depot.
Inside, he saw a tall, silver-haired, dignified-looking man.
“Are you Mr. Montgomery?” Pearlie asked.
“I am.”
“Mr. Montgomery, last night I met a fella by the name of Ben. He suggested I come see you, to ask about working as a shotgun guard.”
“Oh, yeah, Ben talked to me about you. You’re the one called Pearlie?”
“Yes, sir.”
Montgomery chuckled. “Ben said you laid ole Dempster out with a beer mug. I sure wish I could have seen that.”
“At the time, it seemed the thing to do,” Pearlie said.
Montgomery whooped with laughter. “I don’t think I’ve ever met you,” Montgomery said. “How long have you lived in Los Brazos?”
“I’ll tell you that as soon as I find a place to live,” Pearlie replied.
Montgomery looked surprised for a moment; then he laughed again.
“Well, that’s a straight answer. Are you married?”
“No, I—” Pearlie paused. “I was married, but my wife died.”
“Oh, I’m real sorry to hear that, son. But, and don’t get me wrong but I have to ask this. Have you ever been in trouble with the law?”
“I’m not a wanted man,” Pearlie said.
“You’re not a wanted man?”
“No, sir, I am not.”
“All right,” he said. “I guess that’s a pretty straight answer, too. And because you gave me a straight answer, I won’t go any further into it. Ben tells me you were in the saloon when he told Dempster that he was fired.”
“Yes, sir, I was.”
“I don’t reckon it was any mystery to you why we fired him. He is a drunk. Now, let me ask you this. What were you doing in the saloon? You aren’t a drunk, are you?”
“I had a long ride, and for most of that ride, I was looking forward to a beer. When I rode into town last night, that was the first thing I did.”
“One beer?”
“One beer,” Pearlie said. “Well, that is, part of one beer. There was still some left when I threw it at Dempster.”
Montgomery laughed again. “All right, I reckon that’s good enough for me. Tell me this. If I hire you, how soon
