“I imagine it would be the Dodge House,” Clay replied.
“Well then, how about you and your men join us for dinner tonight?” Smoke suggested.
“Maria and I would be glad to join you,” Clay said. “And I suspect one of my men, an older fella named Dusty, would join us as well. We can invite Tom, Mo, and Dalton, but they have already stated their intention to take in the town.”
“Smoke, if you don’t mind,” Matt said. “I think I’d like to look those fellas up and see the town with them.”
“Don’t mind at all,” Smoke replied.
“I tell you what, Matt,” Clay said. “If you’ll come with me now, I’ll introduce you to them. It will keep you from having to look them up on your own.”
“Thanks,” Matt said. “I would appreciate that.”
With the chuck and hoodlum wagons parked at the wagon park and the horses stabled, the Live Oaks outfit had checked in at the Dodge House. Tom took a room with Dusty, while Mo and Dalton shared another room. Dusty was up in the room taking a nap for, as he said, “When you are cow-boyin’, you never pass up a chance to get some sleep.”
But Tom decided that he wanted to “see the town” with Mo and Dalton, so he was waiting in the lobby for them to come down. As he was waiting, he picked up a copy of the
He was immediately drawn to a story at the top of the page, in the second column from the left.
A SHOOTING INCIDENT.
Last Monday afternoon, one of those little episodes which serve to vary the monotony of frontier existence occurred at the Lucky Chance Saloon. Bob Shaw, the man who started the amusement, accused Frank Lovejoy of having acquired three aces in a game of poker by means other than the luck of the draw. Mr. Lovejoy, our readers will remember, recently dispatched two soldiers from Fort Dodge when they leveled the same accusation. In the case of the shooting of the soldiers, Mr. Lovejoy accorded the soldiers the opportunity to withdraw their pistols from their holsters before opening the ball, the engagement ending in the death of both soldiers.
In the more recent encounter with Bob Shaw, somebody, perhaps in an attempt to prevent further bloodshed, started out in search of a Deputy City Marshal, and finding him, hurried him to the scene of the impending conflict.
When the deputy arrived, he observed Shaw near the bar with a huge pistol in his hand and a hogshead of blood in his eye, ready to relieve Frank Lovejoy of his existence in this world and send him to those shades where troubles come not, and six-shooters are unknown. Not wishing to hurt Shaw, but anxious to quiet matters and quell the disturbance, the marshal ordered him to give up his gun. Shaw refused to deliver and told the deputy to keep away from him. The deputy then gently tapped belligerent Shaw upon the head with his shooting iron, merely to convince him of the vanities of this frail world. The aforesaid reminder upon the head, however, failed to have the desired effect, and, instead of dropping, as any man of fine sensibilities would have done, Shaw turned his battery upon the officer and let him have it in the right breast. The ball, striking a rib and passing around, came out under the right shoulder blade, paralyzing’ his right arm so that it was useless, so far as handling a gun was concerned. The deputy fell, and Mr. Lovejoy, perhaps moved by the affront of an attack upon an officer of the law, discharged his pistol, which until that moment had remained in his holster, in the direction of Shaw. The ball, thus energized, struck Shaw with devastating effect, as he quickly expired from the wound.
“Hello, Tom,” Mo said, coming into the lobby just as Tom finished reading the newspaper article. “Are you ready to show our young friend here a good time?”
Tom chuckled. “I’m not sure what my position will be here,” he said. “I don’t know if I am to have a good time with the two of you, or keep you from having such a good time that you get into trouble.”
“We aren’t looking to get into trouble,” Mo said. “But lots of times when you are looking to have fun, well trouble just seems to have a way of finding you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Tom said.
“There’s Clay,” Mo said. “I wonder who those people are who are with him ...”
Clay Ramsey, who had just come into the hotel with four other men, saw Tom, Mo, and Dalton, and he held up his hand.
“Just a minute,” he called to them. “I want you to meet these men. They are the ones delivered the herd to us, and they’ll be making the drive south with us.”
Clay introduced them and there were greetings all around.
“Where is Dusty?” Clay asked.
“He’s up in the room asleep,” Tom answered. “He said he would join you for dinner, but until then he is going to get as much sleep as he can.”
Clay laughed. “He is smarter than all of us,” he said. “Tom, how about telling him we are going to dinner now? Oh, and you boys are invited as well.”
“We don’t need to eat,” Mo interrupted quickly. “We can always get pickled pigs’ feet and boiled eggs at just about any bar.”
“You will still have time to visit the saloons,” Smoke said. “But this is a dinner you don’t want to miss.”
“What’s so special about it?” Mo asked.
“We’ll be having Angus beef,” Smoke said. “We thought you might want to get a taste of what you will be working with.”
At dinner, the chef rolled a table on wheels up to the dining table. On the table was a huge piece of beef, its enticing aroma getting the attention of everyone in the dining room.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Duff said. “This is the top blade roast. ‘I believe that you will find it quite tasty.”
The chef carved the meat, then served generous portions to all. Smoke, Falcon, Matt, Tom, and Mo asked for seconds.
“Mo, aren’t you the one who said that you could eat pigs’ feet and such?” Clay teased.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t know we were going to be eating anything this good. You sure this is beef? I’ve never tasted beef like this before.”
“’Tis Angus beef you are eating,” Duff said. “There’s no finer beef anywhere in the world.”
“Pa’s goin’ to be pleased with this, that’s for sure,” Dalton said.
Desert was hot apple pie, topped off by a slice of melted cheese. When the bite was eaten, Mo pushed away from the table.
“I’ve really enjoyed the supper,” he said. “I don’t know as I have ever eaten this good, but this is our first night in Dodge, and I don’t aim to waste it. So if you good folks will excuse me, I’m going take in some of the sights. Tom, Dalton? You fellas comin’ with me.”
“I am,” Dalton said.
“I’ll come as well,” Tom said.
“Would you mind if I came along?” Matt asked.
“We don’t mind at all,” Tom said. “You are very welcome to come.”
“Thanks, Tom,” Matt said.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
As Matt, Tom, Mo, and Dalton left the restaurant to take in the sights of the town, Duff, Falcon, Smoke and Sally, and Clay and Maria continued to visit over coffee around the dining table.
“I hope they do not get into any trouble,” Maria said. “Dalton is ...”
“The boss’s son,” Clay interrupted.
