Crayfish Ruble was whiling away his days over at Rosie’s, and I hardly saw him. But I knew he was around, and I knew he was pulling strings. His gunslicks were all over town, almost patrolling it, like they were the lawmen and not me. But it was peaceful enough, and as long as they didn’t bust any laws or cause trouble, I had no reason to mind. Maybe it was even to the good, because it kept Admiral Bragg and his bunch out of Doubtful so the hanging could go ahead real peaceful.
After watching the Cleggs saw planks and hammer them down, I headed out Wyoming Street, thinking to have a visit with Sammy Upward. He might still be mad at me, but I didn’t care. I was as itchy as ever about what was going on in my town.
The moment I walked in there, Sammy starting rubbing the bar with his rag, and I knew I wasn’t very welcome. There was a bunch of T-Bar men in there, and it was like I’d walked into their private club and they didn’t like it none.
Sammy just slapped a bottle of red-eye on the bar, and a tumbler, and told me it’d be a quarter. “I’m charging one bit now,” he said.
It had been a dime. I didn’t object, and laid out two bits.
“I’m looking for a few things,” I said.
“You got something to tell me first?”
Sammy was back in his trading mood. He’d tell me something if I told him something.
“Sure,” I said. “Admiral Bragg tried to stop the scaffold going up. I put some buckshot into the ambush.”
“That so?” Sammy seemed impressed. I hadn’t told anyone about that predawn fight when I rode with the Cleggs. “You know who took some shot?”
“Nope. Anyone that got hit’s staying out at the Anchor Ranch. I’ll pinch anyone with a bandage on him just now.”
Sammy polished away at the bar, and finally decided it was okay to cut loose with something I might need. “Well?” he said, sounding irritated.
I peered around a little. All them T-Bar men had quit their talking and were listening to me. They wanted to know what the sheriff was askin’ about, so I decided to give them an earful.
“This fellow Rocco, the one that King Bragg shot. I’m just curious about him. I got some flyers on the two brothers, so I know they were up to no good, but I don’t know a thing about Rocco. Crayfish hired him, and he didn’t seem like one of the regular bunch out there. You gonna help me with that?”
“What do you want to know for?”
“I was sort of wondering if maybe King Bragg did the world a favor.”
Upward thought about that a little, polishing away on his bar, and then said, “He didn’t do the world any favor. Rocco, he was different all right. He wasn’t a regular cowboy living in the bunkhouse like the rest. He lived up at the house like Mr. Ruble. He was Mr. Ruble’s manservant, you know? The gent that kept the big house and got whatever Crayfish needed and took care of things. Mr. Ruble, he has no woman, you know. So he had this Eastern gent, Rocco, do all that stuff.”
“What stuff?”
Sammy eyed the silent crowd, and then leaned forward, almost whispering to me. “Crayfish Ruble sure liked his women, and once in a while he’d send Rocco to town, with the black buggy, to fetch him a woman. Rocco would go rent one from one of the parlor houses. He’d go to Rosie and rent one for a week, and bring her out to the ranch, so Crayfish could enjoy her for a few days.”
“Then he’d take her back?”
Upward shrugged. “I only know what I heard. That’s all I’m telling you.”
“Rocco, did he spend time with the rest of the T-Bar men?”
“Naw, he was a loner. He was real well educated, and talked different. He never talked about cattle or guns or anything like that. When he came in here with Crayfish, they would talk about good wines, or how to cook venison, or what women in Paris were wearing.”
“Rocco was from where?”
“How should I know? But I once served a man from that hellhole called Brooklyn, and this Rocco, he sounded like that. I couldn’t place it if I tried. But he was smart.”
“And Crayfish employed him as a manservant? Anything else?”
Sammy sighed. “Maybe an informer. I think he was Crayfish’s eyes and ears. Now that’s all I’m gonna say. I’m done. I told you more than you told me.”
He stalked off to serve one of the T-Bar cowboys, who was wanting another shot. I just waited real quiet. I wasn’t done with Sammy.
Pretty soon I had another crack at it. “How come King Bragg shot him?” I asked.
“I don’t know or care. King Bragg shot Mr. Ruble’s best friend and two of his best hands in cold blood. Crayfish Ruble told me a dozen times, Rocco was the most valuable help he had, and them Jonas boys, they was harder working than most everyone in the bunkhouse. I’ll tell you something, Cotton. When that boy killed three of his best men, Crayfish broke down and pretty near cried some. He’d hate me for saying it, because men don’t shed tears, but I saw Ruble kneel over those three murdered men and fight back a tear or two, not wanting anyone to see how bad he felt.”
“Were they baiting King?”
“Naw, it was cold-blooded murder, an execution if you ask me.”
“The kid simply pulled his gun and shot the three of them?”
