“Why don’t you talk to him, maybe see what he knows about that fella?”
Fairfax frowned. “You think it might help?”
“Can’t hurt,” Schuyler said with a shrug of his bony shoulders.
“All right. Stay here.”
Fairfax strolled out into the street, seemingly just idling along. He came to a stop next to the boy and looked down at him as if he’d just noticed that the youngster was there.
“Hello, lad.”
“Hey, mister.”
“Say, didn’t I see you earlier, talking to a friend of mine down by the river?”
The boy grinned. “You mean Mr. Preacher? He’s a friend of yours, mister?”
“Yes. Yes, that’s right,” Fairfax said, while trying not to show the surprise he felt. He had heard of Preacher. People told stories about his exploits in the mountains, going all the way back to the time he had been captured by the Blackfeet as a young man and saved his life by preaching a marathon sermon that had convinced his captors he was touched in the head. Indians wouldn’t harm someone they considered disturbed, believing them to have a special connection with the spirit world, so they had released him, and ever since then he had been known as Preacher. Fairfax had no idea what the man’s real name was.
But he knew that Preacher was considered one of the most dangerous men west of the Mississippi…or east of it, for that matter.
“That’s where he said he was goin’,” the boy went on. “I heard him tell Mr. Larson. So I reckon he’s in there, if you’re lookin’ for him.”
“Perhaps I’ll get together with him later,” Fairfax said. “We’re old friends, but we haven’t seen each other for a long time, so I’d like to surprise him. If you see him, don’t mention that you spoke to me, all right?”
“Sure, mister. I don’t reckon I’ll be seein’ him, though. My pa will be mad enough at me for slippin’ out after supper like this. He’d tan my hide good if he ever caught me sneakin’ into a tavern. He says that good, God-fearin’ folks don’t never venture into such places.”
“How does one know which places to avoid if one never visits them?” Fairfax murmured.
“Huh?”
“Never mind, lad.” He took one of the precious few coins he and Mims had to their names and pressed it into the boy’s hand. “Here, take this and run along.”
The boy bit the coin to make sure it was real, then beamed. “This has been a
Fairfax went back across the street to rejoin his partner. “I found out our quarry’s name,” he told Schuyler.
“What is it?”
“Preacher.”
Schuyler’s eyes widened. “Oh, Lordy. We better forget about it, Colin. Even them red savages don’t mess with Preacher most of the time. He’s all wolf and a yard wide.”
“He’s just a man like any other,” Fairfax snapped. “And he shot me, damn his eyes. I’ve a score to settle.”
Schuyler grunted. “Yeah, and once Larson brings his money for them plews, he’ll have a considerable amount of cash on him, I’m thinkin’. I ain’t sure it’s worth gettin’ killed over, though. There’s other ways to make money.”
Fairfax glared and shook his head. “Preacher’s never seen us before. We can walk right in there, and he won’t have the slightest notion that we’ve a grudge against him. It’s just a matter of waiting for the proper time to strike. Any man can be defeated if he’s taken by surprise by an enemy who’s ruthless enough.”
“Well…maybe.”
“I’ll go after him by myself if I have to.”
“Now, don’t take on like that,” Schuyler said. “We been partners for a good while, Colin. I ain’t a’gonna desert you now.” The taller man nodded. “We’ll take him. Let’s go on in and see what he’s doin’.”
They started across the street, but stopped as they saw Joel Larson approaching. Drawing back into the shadows, they waited while the fur merchant entered the tavern. Larson wasn’t inside for long, and when he left again, Fairfax said, “He must have paid Preacher off for those pelts. That’s what we’ve been waiting for.”
Schuyler nodded, but he still looked nervous about what they were planning to do. He knew better than to suggest again that they give up on squaring the score with Preacher. Fairfax wouldn’t stand for that, and he usually did the thinking for both of them.
Preacher was sitting at a table in the corner with a fleshy, redheaded young woman in his lap when the partners came into the tavern. Schuyler and Fairfax went to the bar and spent the last of their money on a couple of drinks they could nurse along for a while.
A short time later, Preacher and the whore went upstairs, pausing at the bar to speak to the proprietor for a moment. From the overheard conversation, the two men learned that Preacher was about to take a bath. That was good, because it meant that he would be naked. That wasn’t exactly the same thing as unarmed, but at least he would have to take off his weapons and put them aside before he climbed into the washtub. When you were dealing with a man like Preacher, any edge was better than none, no matter how slight it might be.
Schuyler put his head close to Fairfax’s and said in a low voice, “We can’t just go traipsin’ upstairs. Fargo rents them rooms out, and if we start up there, he’ll holler after us and try to make us pay.”
“I recall seeing some stairs in the rear,” Fairfax said. “We’ll make our entrance that way.” He tossed back the little bit of liquor that remained in his cup.
