“Turns out that Odom was in the saloon, too, and he was causin’ trouble for this little ole’ gal that Evans liked. I mean, she was a whore, there was no gettin’ around that, but Evans was sweet on her. Anyhow, when he seen Odom slap her, he walked over and knocked Odom down.”
Gabby spit out a stream of tobacco, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before he continued the story.
“Well, sir, Odom, he didn’t like that much. No, sir, he didn’t like that none at all. So he got to eggin’ Evans and McCoy on, callin’ ’em cowards and other things that no man could take and still call hisself a man. Then, Evans and McCoy pulled iron agin’ Odom. And that was their mistake.”
“He killed them?”
“He kilt both of ’em, deader’n a doornail,” Gabby said. “There was an inquest, but it was ruled self-defense, bein’ as a lot of people seen that Evans and McCoy drawed first. ’Course nobody felt good about it, what with Odom eggin’ ’em on like he done. So whatever support Odom might have had for bringin’ in outlaws was sort of used up that day.”
“If he was found not guilty, why is there a reward out for him?” Matt asked.
“Well, sir, like I said, Odom didn’t have many friends left after he kilt them two cowboys. Then, not long after that, he kilt a man and brung him in for the reward. Onliest thing is, they had already pulled the paper on the feller he brought in, when they found out that he wasn’t guilty. Besides which, the reward didn’t say nothin’ about ‘dead or alive’ in the first place. They tried Odom again, an’ this time they found him guilty of murder, but he escaped and went on the outlaw trail.”
“What about the men who ride with him?” Matt asked. “A Mexican named Paco. A big man named Bates and someone named Schuler.”
“They’re all ridin’ with Odom?” Gabby asked.
“So I’ve heard,” Matt answered, not wanting to give away how he actually knew.
“I’ll be damn. I didn’t know that. Well, I can tell you about two of them fellers,” Gabby said. “Bates, the big fella, is a mean son of a bitch, all right. Word is, he once beat a miner to death with his bare hands. The Mexican, I don’t know nothin’ about. I ain’t never heard of him. But the other fella would be Moses Schuler. Me ’n’ Moses Schuler was friends once. He didn’t start out to be an outlaw, but I don’t doubt that he’s rid down that trail by now.”
“What sent him that way?”
“Whiskey, I reckon. Once whiskey gets aholt of a man, it don’t let him go.”
“You say the two of you were friends?”
“Yes, sir. Moses was a powder monkey with the Cross Point Mine. He was a good one, too. Why, he could shave off shale as easy as cuttin’ butter. But that’s a dangerous job and Schuler started drinkin’ a bit, just to settle his nerves, you understand. Only, he drank too much once, and he double-loaded a shoot. Instead of carving off a little bit of shale, it caused a mine cave-in. There was nine men kilt in that cave-in.
“Moses was never the same after that. He started drinkin’ more and workin’ less until he was fired. I heard tell that he blew a safe during a bank robbery down in Tucson, but don’t nobody know that for sure. You say he’s workin’ with Odom now?”
“Yes, or so I’ve heard,” Matt said.
“That’s too bad. Moses may not be dependable, and maybe he’s even stole a few things. But I don’t think he would ever kill anyone, not with how he was so upset over the accident in the mine.”
“How long since you’ve seen him?” Matt asked.
“How long? Lord ’a mercy, I’m not sure how long it’s been,” Gabby said. “I’d make it three years or more.”
“So he could be riding with Cletus Odom now and you would never know it,” Matt suggested.
Gabby spit out another stream of tobacco juice, then nodded. “You got me there, sonny, you got me there,” he said.
“Sorry I was the one who had to tell you about your friend,” Matt said.
“Don’t worry about it. I reckon I would have found out soon enough anyway. Ah, there’s the relay station just ahead. We’ll grab a bite to eat here, change teams, then be on our way. Oh, and while I’m looking after the teams, would you mind givin’ this to Rittenhouse over there?” Gabby asked. “The marshal wants these posted everywhere.”
Gabby gave Matt one of the wanted posters he had seen tacked up earlier.
“Sure,” Matt said. “I’d be glad to.”
Chapter Eleven
As the coach rolled into the station, Gabby hauled back on the reins and set the brake. With the stage at a standstill, the little cloud of dust that had been following them now rolled by them, and Matt heard some of the passengers coughing below.
Gabby chuckled. “You’re better off up here,” he said. “That dust really gets inside down there.”
“I know. I’ve ridden shotgun guard a few times in my life.”
“I figured you probably knew your way around a stagecoach,” Gabby said. He climbed down and yelled at the passengers in the stage. “Folks, we’ll be here for half an hour. Stretch your legs, take care of your needs, maybe grab some lunch. Miz Rittenhouse runs the kitchen here, and she makes some mighty fine chicken ’n’ dumplin’s.”
“Chicken and dumplings?” one of the men said. “My God, the driver actually said that as if we could possibly find such pedestrian fare appealing.”
Matt climbed down as well, listening to the continuing complaints of the two men who, it would appear, were trying to outdo each other. He was glad he wasn’t riding down in the box.
