“Julie?” Winslow called, grabbing the lantern and hurrying into the bedroom. When he stepped through the door he saw his wife and his daughter, both stripped absolutely naked and tied to the bed. They had gags in their mouths, and terror in their eyes.
“What the hell have you done to them?” Winslow shouted angrily.
“We ain’t done nothin’ yet.” Plummer looked over at the other two men. “But I have to tell you, I’m havin’ a hard time keepin’ Sullivan and McCoy off of ’em.”
“I want the young one,” Sullivan said, rubbing his crotch.
“You bastard! She is only twelve years old!” Winslow said.
“Maybe so, but she’s comin’ along real good.”
“You see what I’m having to deal with?” Winslow said. “Now, the only way I’m goin’ to be able to keep them away from your women is if you do exactly what I tell you to do.”
“What do you want?” Winslow asked. “I’ll do it.”
“I want you to go to the bank, get every dollar the bank has, then bring it here. Once we have the money, we’ll be on our way.”
“I’ll get the money. Just—just don’t do anything to hurt my wife and daughter.”
Plummer smiled, showing a mouth full of crooked and broken teeth. “I thought we might be able to work something out.”
Winslow took one last look at his wife and daughter, then hurried out of the house and over to the bank, which was just one block away. Inside the bank he emptied the safe, taking out twenty-three thousand dollars, and stuffing the money into a bag. He started to leave, but before he did, he scribbled a quick note.
When he got back to the house, he hurried into the bedroom. “I got the money. Let them go.”
Then, looking toward the bed, he gasped. Their throats had been cut and blood was all over the bed. His wife and daughter were looking up with glazed, sightless eyes.
“You bastards!” he shouted, throwing the money bag toward Plummer.
“Really now, Winslow, you didn’t think we were going to let you live after you knew our names, did you?”
So shocked by the sight of his wife and daughter, Winslow didn’t realize McCoy was behind him until he felt the knife thrust into his back.
Matt Jensen walked into the Gold Nugget Saloon in Fort Collins, twenty miles south of Livermore. On the wall was a sign:
Card cheats will not be allowed in this establishment.
Please report any cheating to the Management.
In addition to the sign cautioning gamblers against cheating, the walls were decorated with game-heads and pictures, including one of a reclining nude woman. Three bullet holes strategically placed had augmented the painting, though one shot was slightly off, giving her left breast two nipples. Below the painting was a mirror which reflected back the long glass shelf of whiskey bottles. At each end of the bar was a large jar of pickled eggs as well as pickled pigs’ feet.
The saloon was also a first-class brothel and Matt saw one of the girls taking a cowboy up the stairs at the back of the room.
The upstairs area didn’t extend all the way to the front. The main room, or saloon, was big, with exposed rafters below the high, peaked ceiling. There were a score or more customers present, sitting at tables or standing at the bar talking with the girls, drinking or playing cards.
Matt was one of those standing at the bar when a woman known as Magnificent Maggie went over to him and put her arm through his. She got her name, not from her beauty, but from her size. Weighing over three hundred pounds, she was the owner of the Gold Nugget.
“Welcome, Mr. Jensen. It has been a while since you have graced us with your presence. What brings you to Fort Collins?”
“You know me, Maggie. I follow the tumbleweed.” Matt looked around the saloon. “You seem to be doing a pretty good business today.”
“Some days are better than others. Could I get you something to drink, Mr. Jensen?”
“Yes.”
“Wine, beer, or whiskey?”
“Whiskey.”
At the back of the saloon a piano player with a pipe clenched in his teeth, wearing a round derby hat and garter belts around his shirt sleeves, was playing “The Gal I Left Behind Me,” though few were listening.
“Oh my, still alone? You haven’t found a girl to keep you company?” Maggie asked when she returned with Matt’s whiskey.
Matt put his arm around her shoulders. “Maggie, do you think I could settle for anyone but you?”
Magnificent Maggie laughed out loud. “My, my, Mr. Jensen you do have a gift for the blarney. But what would you do if I thought you were serious and took you up on it?”
“I don’t know. I’d do my best, I guess,” Matt replied.
She laughed again, a loud cackle that rose over the piano music and all the conversation in the room. “Oh, damn! You just made me laugh so hard that I peed in my drawers.”
Matt had just taken a swallow and at her pronouncement he laughed, spewing out some whiskey.
She hurried off to take care of the situation, leaving Matt standing alone at the bar, smiling and drinking his whiskey.
