“You will be, to the tune of a dollar each.”
Scratch frowned. “That’s a little steep, ain’t it?”
“Deadwood is a mining town. Everything costs a little more here.”
One of the diners put in, “And it’s worth it, mister. Sue Beth dishes up the best food since Aunt Lou Marchbanks quit the Grand Central and went to work cooking for the crew out at the Father De Smet mine.”
“Go on with you, Hal,” Sue Beth said. “You’re just angling for an extra piece of pie.”
“But without a kiss,” the man said with a grin. “I wouldn’t mind, you understand, but I imagine my wife would.”
Sue Beth laughed, then pointed at a couple of empty stools in front of the counter and told Bo and Scratch, “You two sit down. I’ll get you some coffee.” As she fetched a pair of empty cups, she called through the pass- through to the cook, “I need two more lunches, Charlie.”
Bo and Scratch sat down and took off their hats. Things were getting back to normal in the cafe now that the ruckus was over. As Sue Beth poured the coffee, Scratch said, “We ain’t been properly introduced, ma’am. My name is Scratch Morton, and this here is my friend Bo Creel.”
Sue Beth smiled. “Your mother actually named you Scratch, Mr. Morton?”
“Well, uh . . . no, ma’am. But it’s been so long since I used my real name that I sort of disremember what it is. I can try to dredge it up if you want.”
“No, that’s all right.” She looked at Bo. “And I suppose your name is short for Beauregard.”
“No, ma’am,” he told her. “It’s just plain Bo, B-O. My pa liked the sound of it.”
“I see. What brings you boys all the way up here to Dakota Territory from Texas?”
“Oh, we didn’t come here straight from Texas,” Scratch said. “We were in Colorado for a while, and then we decided to ride on up this way for a while.”
“We tend to drift around a little,” Bo added. “Never stay in one place for too long.”
“Saddle tramps, in other words,” Sue Beth said. Bo shrugged. “Call it what you will. It seems to suit us, and has for a long time.”
“Yeah, only this time we plumb forgot that you don’t head north durin’ the autumn,” Scratch said. “We’re like little birdies. We usually fly south for the winter.”
“You’ll get plenty of winter here if you wait a few weeks,” Sue Beth said. “By the way, I’m Susan Elizabeth Pendleton. Sue Beth to my friends. You can call me Mrs. Pendleton.”
“You’re married?” Scratch asked. He couldn’t quite keep the disappointment out of his voice.
“I was. My husband worked in one of the mines. He was killed by the smoke and poison gas when a fire broke out underground a couple of years ago.”
“We’re mighty sorry to hear that,” Bo said.
Scratch nodded and said, “We sure are.”
“Thank you.”
To change the subject, Bo said, “I was wondering about something. The name of this place is the Red Top Cafe, but the roof’s not red.”
Sue Beth smiled and pointed to her auburn hair. “It’s named after me, not the building. It was my husband Tom’s idea.”
“Oh. Well, it’s a good one.”
The face of a scrawny old-timer appeared at the pass-through. He pushed a couple of plates across it and said, “Here’s those two lunches, Sue Beth.”
“Thanks, Charlie,” she told him as she turned and picked up the meals. She set them in front of Bo and Scratch, who practically licked his chops. Bo didn’t blame him. The thick slices of ham, the mounds of potatoes, and the biscuits dripping with butter and gravy looked and smelled delicious.
Before they could dig in, though, shouting erupted in the street outside. Bo and Scratch turned to look as one of the men at a table close to the door stood up and opened it so the customers in the cafe could hear better. The shouts had a frantic, frightened quality to them.
“What is it?” Sue Beth asked. “Trouble at one of the mines?”
Scratch said, “It sounds to me like preachin’. Somebody’s hollerin’ about the Devil.”
Bo happened to be looking at Sue Beth Pendleton as Scratch spoke. All the color washed out of the woman’s face, and she looked as scared as the people outside sounded.
“Not just one devil,” Sue Beth said. “A whole gang of them. The Deadwood Devils must have struck again.”
CHAPTER 3
“The Deadwood Devils,” Bo repeated. “Doesn’t sound like a very friendly bunch.”
Sue Beth shook her head. “They’re not. They’re outlaws who have been causing trouble around here for the past few months. They’ve held up stagecoaches, hijacked gold shipments, and murdered at least a dozen men that we know of.”
“Are you sure it’s the same bunch doin’ all that?” Scratch asked.
