Matt wriggled on his stomach to the foot of the bed; then, using the flame pattern of the muzzle flashes as his target, he shot back. He heard two of the men fall, followed by the sound of footsteps running down the hall. Matt got up and moved quickly to the door, hoping to get a glimpse of his attacker, but the hall lamps had all been extinguished, and he saw nothing.
Leaving Sanchez and Gutierrez lying dead or dying on the floor behind him, Meacham ran down the stairs and, seeing a startled desk clerk coming toward the foot of the stairs, shot him down.
Meacham left the hotel through a back door that opened onto the alley.
“What was the shooting?” he heard a voice call from the darkness.
“I think it was firecrackers. Kids have been setting them off all day,” another voice replied.
“Damn fool kids,” the first voice said.
A baby cried.
One dog began barking, and others took up the chorus as Meacham hurried quickly down the alley.
Chapter Seven
As the two cowboys rode into town, they were laughing and talking to each other. Three months earlier, they had left Texas riding in a generally northwestern direction with no particular destination in mind. But while they had no specific destination, they did have a purpose, for they sought not only to find work, but to experience new adventures.
“What do you think about this town, Billy?” one of them asked. “Think we might find work around here?”
“Maybe,” Billy answered. “Hey, Jeff, what day is this?” Billy asked.
“I don’t know. Thursday? Saturday?”
“You think it’s close to June 30th?”
“I don’t know,” Jeff said. “Why are you askin’ anyway?”
Billy pointed to a sign that had been posted on a kiosk that stood in the middle of the street just at the south entrance into town. “That’s where I’m goin’ to be on June 30th. I’ll just bet you there will be some pretty girls there.”
The sign, neatly hand painted, read:
FIREMEN’S BALL
June 30th
Morning Star Hotel
“Yeah, well, we won’t be there if we can’t find us someplace to work at. That’s a month away. And if we can’t get took on at a ranch or somethin’, we won’t have enough money to support ourselves for a month. Besides which, if there are any pretty girls there, you can bet they won’t be alone,” Jeff said. “Every cowboy within ten miles will be sniffing around them like bees on clover.”
“But you forget you are talking about Dakota men,” Billy said. “You know damn well that once a pretty girl gets a look at a Texas man, none of these Dakota fellas will have a chance.”
Jeff laughed out loud. “You are full of it, Billy, anyone ever tell you that?”
“Yeah, well, like they say, they’s some that’s got it, and some that ain’t. But don’t worry, Jeff, you’re with me, and I’ve got enough of it for both of us.”
Jeff laughed again. “I’ll give you that,” he said.
“How ’bout we stop over there for a while?” Billy suggested, pointing to a building that was identified by a large sign up on the high false front as the New York Saloon.
“Sounds good to me,” Jeff agreed.
Stopping in front of the saloon, the two young men dismounted, then began patting themselves down.
“Whoa, Billy, you’re calling up a dust storm there,” Jeff said.
“Well, you ain’t no pretty clear day your ownself,” Billy replied.
“You think we got dust on the outside, what do you think we got in our throats? I’ll bet you that me and you done swallowed enough dirt to plant ourselves a hunnert acres of cotton,” Jeff said.
Billy laughed. “We ain’t in Texas no more. “What makes you think anyone up here has ever even seen cotton growin’?”
“I don’t care if I don’t never see any more of it my ownself,” Jeff said. “I picked and chopped enough when I wan’t nothin’ but a young pup. Come on, let’s go inside and get us a beer.”
“Yeah, I can taste it now.”
There was an ugly little man sitting on a bench just outside the door to the saloon, and he stood up and walked over to stand at the top of the three steps that led up to the porch.
“The name is Butrum,” he said. “Ollie Butrum.”
“Glad to meet you, Mr. Butrum. And not wantin’ to be rude or nothin’, but, how ’bout you step out of the way there?”
“Where do you fellas think you’re a’ goin’?” the ugly little man asked.
