“Ya know, I never knew why you come back when the Pinkertons was gonna shoot my ass off,” Austin said. “Thing is, Will, I never got to tell you thanks or nothin’.”
“No need,” Will said. “I guess I woulda done it for any outlaw.”
“Well, here’s the thing: I owe you, Will, an’ I wanna pay you off.”
“I got all the money I need, Austin. There’s—”
“That ain’t what I’m talkin’ ’bout,” Austin said. “I . . . uhhh . . .”
“What?”
“I worked for Hiram for a bunch of months when the law was hot after me while you was in Folsom, Will. He was a good man. Me an’ him, we usta throw horsehoes an’ so forth. He was my boss, but he was my friend.
“An’ when his ol’ . . . when Sarah wasn’t about, I used to ride the girls on my horse—at a gallop, Will. They loved it. They’d laugh an’ so forth an’ have one he . . . heck of a good time.”
Will nodded and began to roll another cigarette. “I wonder, can we talk about somethin’ else—?” Will began.
“No. No, goddammit, Will Lewis. That devil One Dog killed folks I . . . I loved. I’m goin’ to put a lot of lead into them sonsabitches—but One Dog, he’s all yours, Will. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. That’s the way it will be.”
Will sucked down a beer, thinking. “You ride with me, you’ll more’n likely die,” he said, “an’ probably die hard.”
Austin grinned. “So will a pile of them murderin’ scum.”
Will considered for a long moment. “This ain’t a pleaure ride, Austin—no robbin’, no stealin’, no whor-in’. It’ll be hard ridin’ an’ lots of blood.”
For the first time in the saloon, the grin disappeared from Austin’s face. His eyes caught and held Will’s. “Understood,” he said. Then, he repeated, “Understood.”
Will shook his head. “Dammit, Austin, you don’t know what you’re gettin’ into here. One Dog an’ his crew are—”
The grin came back to Austin’s face as he interrupted Will. “What those loons are is not as tough as we are. Right? All we gotta do is kill the whole goddamn bunch an’ then we’ll be all set. Right?”
Will shook his head again. “Damn,” he said.
“Looky here, Will,” Austin said. “You ever seen a man as good with a gun as me?”
“Yeah. Me. An’ I seen this gunnie standin’ on one leg waitin’ to see how many holes the Pinkertons could put into him.”
“Well, hell. They up an’ shot my horse an’ he fell on me. Other’n that, I was good.”
“Good with a busted-up foot an’ no ammo an’ standin’ there like a cigar-store Injun.”
Austin’s grin disappeared again. He leaned across the table until his face was but a few inches from Will’s. “I’ll say this: I’m ridin’ with you no matter how you flap your mouth. See, all you do is think on your own self. Hiram, he was my friend. I rode his girls around, an’ I paid a whole ton of respect to Sarah. I whacked fence poles for Hiram, an’ I hefted bales. Like I said before, he was my friend. An’ Sarah an’ the girls . . .”
“You got supplies?” Will asked quietly.
“I will have, come tomorrow morning,” Austin said. “A goddamn prairie dog could bust in that mercantile there an’ clean ’em out.”
“OK. Grab me a bunch of Bull Durham—the sacks with the papers. We’ll ride at first light.”
Austin held out his hand across the table. Will took it and they shook.
“You still handy with that Colt?” Will asked. “I mean when you ain’t clumsy enough to let a horse fall on you an’ you got no ammo?”
Austin drained the schooner he’d been holding and picked a new, full one from the tray.
“Name a target, Will.” Austin began to stand.
“Stay sittin’ right where you are.” Austin sat back down. “See them shot glasses on the shelf under the lady whose tits you shot off?”
“Sure.”
“When I say shoot, you pick off every other one from right where you are.”
“They’re kinda tight together, Will.”
“Yeah. They are. So will One Dog’s men be if we get to them at the right time.”
“Hell, man—this ain’t no contest.” Austin grinned. “I could do this here in my sleep. But look—s’pose you pick off the ones I leave? I don’ wanna ride with no ol’ fart who can’t handle iron. You got some years on you, Will—an’ you was locked in Folsom for—”
“Shoot,” Will said.
Austin had pushed his chair back, balancing it on its hind legs. His pistol was in his hand with speed that brought a smile to Will’s face. The six shots were thunderous in the saloon, but still not as loud as the storm outside.
“You nicked the fourth one.”
“Yer ass, Will Lewis—the sumbitch already had a notch in it. Now, ’cordin’ to what we agreed, you was —”
The shot glasses Austin left seemed to disintegrate at the same time. Will holstered his Colt. “OK?” he said.
Austin reached across the table once again. Once again the men shook hands.
The men Austin rode in with were having a fine old time, shooting holes in the walls, blowing bottles to smithereens, drinking with both hands and paying with neither.
“Your boys are tearin’ hell outta this place an’ they’re not payin’ a dime,” Will said. “I was wonderin’, could you get the whole goddamn bunch outta here?”
“I’ll make sure they pay up, Will.”
“Ain’t the point. That ol’ fella don’t need this horsehit. He ain’t a bad ol’ guy and I come to like him while I been here. I can see cowhands at the end of a drive with some money in their pockets raisin’ some hell, but these clowns of yours, they piss me off. If you don’t shag ’em out, I will, Austin—and then the damn fools’ll be carried out boots first.”
Austin drew his .45, tipped out his cylinder, and filled the empty spaces with fresh cartridges. He pushed his chair back and stood, right hand all but touching the grips of his weapon.
“Hey,” he hollered. “Hey. You boys put your rigs on your horses an’ git out. We was together for one thing— that bank—and we done it good. Now, git.”
“Austin,” one of them said, “the storm an’ all . . . We ain’t goin’ nowhere. Not nowhere. We’re real happy right here.”
“Well,” Austin said, “let’s talk about this, OK?”
“Ain’t nothin’ to talk about. We—”
Austin drew and fired his Colt twice. Both slugs found a home in the outlaw’s gut.
“What you boys gotta do is split his take, an’ like I said, git outta here, storm or no goddamn storm. Ever’body understand? Oh—an’ take that mouthy sumbitch’s body out an’ toss it in the street.”
No one answered, but the two outlaws began slapping wet blankets on the backs of their mounts.
“An’ lemme say this: I never seen nor heard of none of you. We never rode together. Any one of you who says different faces me—an’ if you back-shoot me, my pardner here will do what needs to be done.” Austin picked up a schooner and drained half of it. “You boys worked out OK. We all got money an’ that’s all we was after. But don’t cross my path . . .”
The men began to saddle up. Austin stood by the table, his Colt comfortably fitting his hand. When they’d all ridden out of the saloon, hats pulled down, slicker collars wrapped around their necks, Austin pulled a sheaf of bills from his pocket and strode to the bar.
“This oughta do it,” he said to the bartender, dropping the money. “If it don’t, there’s more where that come from.”
“That’ll do her fine,” the ’tender said. “I’ll thank you, sir.”
“Ain’t no ‘sir’ involved. I’m a common thief jus’ like the boys I chased outta here.” He grinned. “ ’Cept I’m a bit faster an’ a whole lot smarter.”
Will shook his head slowly from side to side. “Jesus,” he said. “He ain’t changed a bit.”
