“Selling guns again, Billy?” he asked. “I warned you about that—”
“Hey, hey,” Decker said, “the gun’s mine. The kid had nothing to do with it.”
“Sure,” Tally said, “you cowboys always carry ladies’ specials.”
Tally turned back to Billy Rosewood.
“What are you doing around here? No business today?”
Rosewood looked past Tally at Decker.
“He’s waiting for me,” Decker said. “I needed somebody to show me around town.”
“Well, you picked the right boy. Billy knows all the spots in town, don’t you, Billy?”
“What spots?” Decker asked.
“The trouble spots.”
“Oh, I don’t want to see those. Billy said he was going to show me the best churches.”
“Churches,” Tally said, nodding his head.
“Wait here, Billy,” Decker said. “The lieutenant and I are going to have some breakfast.”
“Sure, Mr. Decker.”
Tally gave Rosewood a pointed look and then followed Decker.
“Who showed you this place?” Tally asked. He looked around with disapproval. Decker noticed for the first time that Tally’s suit was a lot more expensive than his—a
“A lady friend.”
“You’ve been in town one day,” Tally said, “and so far you’ve found Billy Rosewood, a lady friend, a hole-in- the-wall restaurant and a mess of trouble. You work fast, Decker.”
“Listen, Lieutenant, I haven’t even started to work yet.”
“Aha. Then you are here working.”
“Let’s get a table.”
Tally looked around and saw that the place was empty.
“That shouldn’t be too difficult.”
There were two waitresses working. One of them was the same one who had served Decker and Linda Hamilton the night before. She came over and smiled at him.
“Hello. You’re Linda’s friend.”
“That’s right.”
“The eggs must have been good last night.”
“Are they still good?”
“The best.”
“We’ll have some.”
“This way.”
Tally gave his chair a good close scrutiny before sitting in it.
“I assume you’re used to better places than this,” Decker said.
“I usually frequent, uh, cleaner establishments, yes.”
“Wait until you taste the eggs,” Decker said. “You might find cleaner, but you won’t find better.”
“Coffee?” the waitress asked.
“Yes,” Decker said, “two cups.”
“One clean one.”
The waitress gave Tally a hurt look and went to fill the order.
“You’re a mean man,” Decker said. “You hurt her feelings.”
“She’ll live.”
“You have some questions for me?”
“Did you remember anything else from last night?”
“Not a thing.”
“Boil had six hundred dollars on him.”
“What about his brother?”
“Boil carried all the money for both of them.”
“Oh,” Decker said, “for a minute there I was almost flattered.”
“Anyway,” Tally said, “it looks like the brothers were paid to kill you.”
“That’s nice,” Decker said.
The waitress brought the coffee and the eggs. She slammed a cup down in front of Tally and said, “Here’s the clean one!”
After she left, Tally said, “Who wants to kill you that bad?”
“I just got to town, Lieutenant,” Decker said. “I don’t know anybody.”
“Well, somebody knows you. Somebody had them at the station waiting for you.”
Decker decided it was time for him to give the lieutenant something to occupy his time.
“Wait a minute.”
“You remember something?” Tally asked. He was eating the eggs without a hint of complaint.
“Yeah. The big one, Boil…he called me Dover.”
“Well, I guess they thought you were this Dover guy.”
“I guess so. Maybe you can find out if a man named Dover came into town on the same train I did.”
“I’ll check on it after breakfast.”
“How are the eggs?”
Tally stopped short as he was shoveling the last of his eggs into his mouth and said, “Uh, they’re not bad.”
“Here,” Decker said, dropping some money on the table, “eat mine.”
“Where are you going?”
“I told you,” Decker said, standing up, “I’m going to church.”
Chapter Eight
Decker found Billy Rosewood still waiting in front of the hotel.
“Are you in trouble with the police, Mr. Decker?” he asked.
“I picked up a bullet last night without paying for it.”
“A bullet? From where?”
“From that little gun you got me.”
“Well, don’t blame me,” Rosewood said. “I didn’t think you were going to shoot
“I didn’t—It’s a long story, Billy. Wait for me here. I’ve got to check at the desk.”
Decker went inside and approached the desk.
“Are there any telegraph messages for me?”
“Mr. Decker? Yes, sir.” The man turned, took an envelope out of his box and slid it across the desk to Decker.
“Thank you.”
“Uh, Mr. Decker,” the man said, “we have another room available if you like—”
“
“But the incident—”
“The incident was my fault. I should watch who I let into my room.”
“That’s very kind of you, sir.”
“Forget it.”
Decker went out to Rosewood’s cab and said, “Let’s go for a ride. I don’t know where yet. I’ll let you know.”
“You’re the boss.”
