“Did Bobby Lee present any defense?” Smoke asked. “I mean, did he say why he was there?”
“Yes,” Nabors replied. “He said he was a railroad detective and he had worked his way into the gang to find out about them.”
“And he told the sheriff about the robbery,” Minnie added. “The sheriff and his deputies were supposed be waiting in the car when the robbers arrived. That way the sheriff could catch them in the act.”
“What went wrong?” Smoke asked.
“He trusted the sheriff. That’s what went wrong,” Minnie replied.
“The sheriff wasn’t in the car,” Doc Baker added.
“Did he say why he wasn’t in the car?”
“He claims that he never got the letter, and that there was no such plan between him and Bobby Lee,” Nabors replied.
“But there was a letter,” Minnie insisted.
“How do you know?” Smoke asked.
“Because he told me,” she replied. “In fact, he told all of us.” She made a circular motion with her hand, which included the other two.
“He told all three of you about the plan?”
“Yes,” Doc Baker answered. “He told us before the robbery ever happened what he was planning to do.”
“Did you three testify to that in the trial?”
“We tried to,” Minnie said. “But they wouldn’t let us testify. They said it was hearsay.”
“They wouldn’t even swear us in as witnesses,” Doc Baker said.
“Are you a special friend of Bobby Lee?” Smoke asked Minnie.
“What do you mean by special friend?” Minnie replied.
Smoke looked over toward the woman Minnie had identified as Janet Ferrell. Janet was still crying about the death of Andy Emerson.
“I mean are you that kind of special friend?” he clarified.
Minnie smiled sheepishly, then nodded. “I am as special a friend as a girl like me can be,” she answered. “What about you? How does he know you? He asked me to send the telegram to you, but he wasn’t sure it would even get through, and he wasn’t sure you would come even if it did. Evidently he hadn’t seen you in a while.”
“That’s right. We haven’t seen each other in a very long time,” Smoke said, validating her observation. “And the reason I know him is because I was once married to his sister. ”
“Once married?” Minnie asked.
“She’s dead,” Smoke said without further elaboration.
“Oh, Mr. West, I’m sorry.”
Suddenly, someone barged in through the batwing doors, hitting them so hard that the doors slammed noisily against the walls. Looking toward the disturbance, Smoke recognized Dawes, the man with whom he had had an altercation back at the barbershop.
“There you are!” Dawes shouted angrily. “You’re the son of a bitch that hit me from behind!” He had a pistol in his hand and he pointed it toward Smoke, which meant he was also pointing toward the three who were sitting at the table with him.
Reacting very quickly, Smoke turned the table over so that it was between Minnie, Doc Baker, Nabors, and Dawes. He did it just in the nick of time because Dawes fired, wildly as it turned out, his bullet taking a piece out of the top of the table.
Remaining crouched over, Smoke moved quickly away from the table so as not to draw any more fire that could put the others in danger. When he reached the stove, he called out to Dawes.
“I’m over here!”
Dawes’ second shot hit the stovepipe, sending out a cloud of black dust, the residue from old fires.
Startled by the unexpected shooting, everyone in the saloon was diving for cover. It was not until then that Smoke drew his own pistol. He shot back, hitting Dawes in the hand, causing him to drop his pistol.
With a cry of pain, Dawes grabbed his hand. Then, shouting out a loud string of curses and his face contorted in rage, he bent over to retrieve his pistol. Smoke fired again, this time hitting the pistol and sending it sliding across the floor.
Dawes started toward it.
“I could have killed you either time, Dawes!” Smoke shouted. “If you touch that gun again, I will kill you. Is that what you want?”
Dawes stopped, then turned back toward Smoke, glaring at him, but saying nothing.
By now, with the shooting stopped, the others in the saloon, some of whom had imitated Minnie, Doc Baker, and Nabors by getting behind overturned tables, began to stand up.
“You were lucky,” Dawes said.
“Didn’t look like luck to me,” Doc Baker said. “Looked to me like he was being generous. Come over here and let me look at that hand.”
