leather for me.”
“Yes’m,” said Calamity.
Yet she felt worried by the assignment even though it presented her with a chance to gain Ella Watson’s confidence. Calamity remembered Murat’s warning that she must not become a party to any crime by actual participation. Even without the warning Calamity would have shrunk from stealing and did not want the young cowhand believing she was a thief.
At that moment Stan and his brother returned and Ella drifted away. The two young cowhands behaved in a more steady manner than Calamity would have expected, knowing how most of their kind acted when in the money. Although Stan and Eddie bucked down to enjoying themselves, they did not go beyond the ten dollars the elder brother retained for his payment. Of course, ten dollars could get a couple of cowhands reasonably drunk, even when buying drinks for various friends.
“Ten o’clock, time we was riding, Brother Eddie,” Stan remarked after bringing Calamity from the dance floor.
“Sure thing, big brother,” grinned Eddie. “See you around Mousey.”
“Now me,” Stan stated, his arm around Calamity’s waist, “I’ve got more good sense than to pick up with a gal who’s got a feller. You-all coming to see me on my way, Marty, gal?”
“I sure wouldn’t miss it for the world,” replied Calamity.
Arm in arm, she and Stan left the room, with Eddie following on their heels. Outside the youngster left his elder brother on the sidewalk while he went to collect the horses. Slipping his arm around Calamity’s waist, Stan looked down at her.
“Do I get a kiss afore I leave?” he asked.
“Not out here. Let’s go into the alley.”
“We’re on our way, Marty, gal.”
On reaching the shelter of the alley, Calamity turned to face the young cowhand. Like she figured, he might be trying to sprout a moustache and act all big and grown-up, but Stan lacked practical experience in such matters. In her time Calamity had been made love to by some prominent gentlemen, the kind of fellers who could near on curl a girl’s hair just by taking her in their arms. Stan did not come into that class by a good country mile.
After fumbling for a moment, he got to slipping his arms around her and brought his face to her own. Calamity slid her arms between his and around his body then burrowed her face to his, kissing him. And when Calamity set her mind to it, she could kiss better than most gals with far greater advantages in more formal education. One thing was for sure, when Calamity started in to kissing him, Stan could have been jabbed by a sharp-rowelled spur and never noticed the pain.
While kissing, Calamity lowered one hand and slid the wallet from Stan’s hip pocket. The very ease with which she removed it made Calamity decide to change her plans. On leaving the saloon she had merely intended to give Stan a slight return for a mildly enjoyable evening and then return to Ella Watson with the story that the cowhand did not give her a chance to lift his leather. Finding how easy the removal was, Calamity changed her original plan.
Just before she could put her plan into operation, Stan pulled his head away from her. Calamity found herself in an embarrassing position, standing with the cowhand’s wallet in her right hand. Of course, he could not see the hand, but at any moment he might miss his wallet. So, like any good general, Calamity decided the best defense would be to attack.
“Whooee!” she gasped. “You sure kiss up a storm. When a gal’s been kissed by you, she sure knows she’s been kissed.”
Which same coincided with what Stan had always suspected. “Want another?” he inquired.
“What do you think?”
Once again Calamity kissed the cowhand. His arms gripped her tightly, but she managed to extract the money from the wallet. Still holding Stan’s attention, she slid the money into his pocket and retained the wallet.
“Stan! Hey, Stan!” Eddie yelled, riding into sight on the street and leading a second horse. “Let’s go.”
Releasing Calamity, Stan stepped back. Just in time Calamity slipped her right hand behind her back so he could not see the wallet it held. Stan looked at the girl and grinned.
“Dang it, Marty,” he said. “I’ve got to go now. Say, will you be here when I get back?”
“Sure will,” she agreed.
Turning, Stan headed for his horse and went afork in a flying mount. A wild cowhand yell left his lips and he put the pet-makers to his horse’s flanks. With a few more whooping yells, the brothers galloped out of town. Calamity watched them go, a grin on her face. Quickly she slipped the wallet into the front of her dress and walked back to the saloon.
“Did you get it?” Ella asked as Calamity walked over to her.
“Sure. Where’d you want me to give it to you?”
“In the office. Come on.”
Following the saloonkeeper, and with Maisie and Phyl on her heels, Calamity went into Ella’s office; a small room with a desk, a couple of chairs and a safe, and used for general saloon business. Taking out the wallet, Calamity handed it to Ella, wondering what would come next.
“What’s this?” Ella snapped as she opened the wallet and stared at its denuded interior. “It’s empty!”
“Empty!” said Calamity, Phyl and Maisie; Calamity in well simulated surprise, Phyl in a startled tone, and Maisie with a mocking glance at the red-headed boss girl.
“All right, Marty!” Ella hissed. “Strip off!”
“Huh!” Calamity gasped.
“Come on, you know what the boss means!” Maisie snapped, delighted to have scored on Phyl, for the red- head was the one who took the new girl to see Ella.
“All right, don’t get mean!” Calamity yelped. “So search me! How was I to know it was empty? I couldn’t look in it with him watching, and I’d be crazy to try lifting the cash then bringing an empty wallet.”
“She’s got a good point there, boss,” Phyl put in.
“Or maybe she’s just smart,” sniffed Maisie. “Peel off, girlie, or I’ll do it the hard way.”
Normally such a threat would have been met eagerly by Calamity, but she held down her desire to jump the buxom brunette and hand her a licking. Giving a shrug, Calamity peeled off the dress and stood clad in a combined chemise and drawers outfit, stockings and shoes—and with the Remington Double Derringer, borrowed from Captain Murat, in a garter holster. Calamity had hoped to keep her armament hidden from the other saloon-girl’s eyes but knew her secret was out. All three women looked at the gun, yet none seemed concerned by it.
“You don’t need
“I wouldn’t reckon you’d have any virtue to defend,” Maisie went on, giving Calamity’s dress a thorough search. “I’ll do that.”
The last came as Phyl started to examine the rest of Calamity’s clothing as it was removed. An angry red flush crept to Phyl’s face at the words.
“Don’t you trust me?” she hissed and made no attempt to put down the garments she held.
“Check the Derringer’s got nothing but bullets in it, Maisie,” Ella interrupted. “Phyl, go ahead with the underwear.”
While she encouraged the rivalry between her two boss girls, Ella had no intention of allowing them to decide once and for all who had the higher social standing by means of a fight. Knowing that hell had no fury like an annoyed or humiliated woman, Ella preferred to let them simmer than have one embittered by defeat and maybe looking for revenge by talking of the saloon’s other business to interested parties.
“Nothing,” Ella said after the check. “No hard feelings, Marty, but you know how it is.”
“Sure, boss. I’m sorry I didn’t do better. Why’d you think he had something in his wallet?”
“Just a hunch. It looks like he either changed places, or let Eddie hold the money when they went out back. Young Stan’s smarter than I thought. Go back out front and do some work, Marty.”
After Calamity left the office, Maisie scowled at Phyl and asked, “Do you reckon she could have hid the money outside before she came in?”
“And bring in the empty wallet?” scoffed Phyl. “She’d need to be real dumb to even think about it. Anyway, we heard those cowhands ride by just before she came in. Stan must have changed the money while he was
