A cold smile started at Meacham’s lips, but didn’t make it all the way to his eyes. He shook his head.
“We’re not going anywhere until you pay the toll.”
“What are you talking about? I’ve paid the damn toll every time we have gone into Fullerton. There is no tollgate here. I’m going home now, and I’ll be damn if I pay the toll to go back to my own house.”
By now Green was awake, and he was on his knees behind his mother and father.
“What’s going on, Pa?” Green asked.
“Nothing is going on,” E.B. answered. Then he directed his attention back to Meacham and the other two men. “Get off the road. Get out of my way,” he demanded.
“Now, Mister …”
“His name is Fowler,” Slater said. “E.B. Fowler. He lives about a mile and a half south of here.”
“Thank you,” Meacham said. “Now, Mr. Fowler,” Meacham continued. “You know as well as I do how this is going to turn out. No matter how much you argue with me, it’s all going to end the same way. You are going to pay me two dollars, one for you, one for your wife. I won’t charge you anything for the boy. When you do that, I’ll let you through.”
“Get out of the way,” E.B. said again.
Meacham held up his hand. “I’ll tell you what. Just to show you the kind of generous man I am, I won’t even charge you for your wife. I’ll just charge you one dollar.”
“Look, Meacham, I don’t have any money with me, soIcouldn’t pay you a dollar even if I wanted to,” E.B. said. “We left home in the middle of the night to fight a fire, not to go into town to go shopping.”
“That’s all right, we can work something out,” Meacham said. He leered at Sue. “That is, if that pretty little wife of yours is willing to cooperate.”
“What? What do you mean? What are you talking about?” E.B. asked angrily.
“Well, now, come on, Mr. Fowler, I’m sure you’ve been around,” Meacham said. “You’ve seen ways women have of making money. There are three of us here. If your woman plays her cards right, you’ll not only get your toll paid, why, you can even come away with a dollar or two.”
“Shut your mouth, you filthy son of a bitch!” E.B. shouted. “On second thought, I’ll shut it for you!”
E.B. had a shotgun under the seat and he reached down to grab it, catching Meacham and the other two riders by surprise. He swung it around and fired, and though he hoped to hit Meacham, Meacham managed to dodge out of the way just in time. The load of buckshot caught Slater in the chest, knocking him from his horse.
E.B. never had the satisfaction of seeing that, though, because even as he was firing, so was Meacham. Meacham’s bullet hit E.B. in the middle of his forehead, knocking him over the seat and into the back of the wagon. He lay there with a black, oozing hole in his forehead, and his eyes open, but unseeing.
“You killed him!” Sue screamed.
“I didn’t have no choice,” Meacham replied. “He killed Slater, and he would’ve killed me if he could.”
It wasn’t until then that Sue saw three or four little wounds on Meacham’s face. Though he had escaped the bulk of the shot, a few on the periphery of the shot pattern had hit him in the cheek, and he was now bleeding from the wounds. He took out a handkerchief and began dabbing at the small punctures.
“Meacham, Slater is dead!” Wilson said.
“I know the son of a bitch is dead. I’m here too, you know,” Meacham replied irritably. He glared at Sue as he continued to dab at the wounds on his face. Finally, he waved his hand.
“Go on,” he said. “Get on out of here.”
Green crawled over into the seat, picked up the reins, and slapped them against the back of the team, driving them away as his mother sat, weeping, by his side.
Hiding behind a berm that surrounded Brewer’s Pond and butted up against the road where the shooting had just taken place, Kenny Perkins and Jimmy Smith had seen the whole thing.
“You …” Kenny said under his breath and, angrily, he started over the berm, only to be pulled back by Jimmy.
“Get back down here and bequiet!” Jimmy hissed. “You want to get us both killed?”
“But did you see what he did?”
“I saw it.”
Acquiescing to Jimmy’s demand, Kenny remained quiet, and they watched as Green drove the buck-board away.
“What are we going to do about Slater?” Wilson asked.
“Throw his carcass over the back of his horse,” Meacham replied. “We’ll take him back to the ranch and let Denbigh do whatever he wants with him.”
“You mean Lord Denbigh, don’t you?” Wilson asked.
Meacham glared at Wilson, but didn’t respond. Wilson dismounted, then, struggling some because Meacham offered no help, he draped Slater’s body across the horse.
Kenny and Jimmy remained put until Meacham and Wilson were out of sight.
“Let’s go,” Jimmy said.
“Go where?”
“Back into town. Mr. Jensen told me to keep him informed about things. I believe this is something he will want
