lieutenant.
“Sonny, why don’t you and your whore just pass on by?” Angus said.
“Whore?” the young woman gasped.
“I don’t know where you’re from, mister, but that kind of language is killing words around here. I’m calling you out!” the young officer said, his voice cracking in anger.
“No, wait, Donnie, please!” the young girl pleaded, her voice now on the verge of panic. “It’s all right. I know he was just talking. Come on, please? Let’s go!”
“You better listen to the girl, sonny,” Angus said.
Under normal circumstances, Donnie may have recognized the danger himself, but these weren’t ordinary circumstances. Donnie was wearing the uniform of a second lieutenant in the Confederate cavalry, and carrying a new Colt pistol in his holster. Inspired with the zeal of patriotism, he was anxious to prove his manliness and bravery in front of the daughter of his commanding officer.
Donnie unsnapped the flap cover of his holster, and put his hand on the butt of his pistol.
“Now I’m going to give you one last chance. I’m going to count to three. You either apologize and clean off my boot, or go for your gun. I don’t care which,” Donnie said.
“Donnie, no!” the young woman said, her words now on the verge of a scream.
By now, half a dozen passersby had been drawn to the scene. When they heard Donnie’s challenging words, they grew tense as they waited to see what was going to happen.
“Mandy, you get on out of the way,” Donnie said, waving her away.
“Donnie, please!”
“Miss, you better get on over here,” one of the onlookers said.
“What’s it going to be, mister,” Donnie said to Angus. “Are you going to apologize? Or do I start counting.”
“Start counting,” Angus said, calmly.
Donnie blinked a couple of times, then a small patina of sweat broke out across his upper lip. It was as if, until that moment, he thought he could bluff his way through. Now he realized that this man couldn’t be bluffed. He also knew that he couldn’t take him. But that realization had come too late. It was impossible for him to back out of it now, without spending the rest of his life in shame.
Donnie licked his lips a couple of times, then with a voice that was much less authoritative than it had been, began to count.
“One,” he said. He paused, then said, “Two.” Now he paused for a long time, praying that, somehow this could all go away, that this man he had challenged would apologize, or at least, turn and walk away. The man continued to look at him with a cold, unblinking stare.
“Three,” Donnie said, starting his draw even as he said the word.
Angus drew and fired before Donnie could get his gun level. Donnie pulled the trigger on his own pistol very quickly behind Angus, so those who only heard the sound of the gunshots thought the fight was much closer than it really was. In truth, Donnie’s bullet plunged into the boardwalk right beside him—right in the middle of the tobacco quid Angus had expectorated a few moments earlier.
“Donnie!” Mandy shouted, and pulling away from the person who tried to hold her back, she rushed to Donnie’s side, looking down in his face just as he breathed his last.
“Is there anybody here who doesn’t know he drew first?” Angus asked.
“Hell, mister, he was just a kid,” one of the men in the quickly gathering crowd said. “You coulda walked away from it before it ever got this far.”
Angus stared at the man from the crowd for a long, rather frightening moment, then he put his pistol in his holster and walked into the saloon. The saloon had been practically emptied when everyone ran outside to see what the gunshots were about. In their excitement to see what was going on, several pushed right by Angus, not realizing he had been one of the principals.
Angus saw his two brothers, Percy and Chance, standing at the bar. Though they had watched the drama unfold, they had not joined the exodus.
“What was all that about out there?” one of them asked.
“Ah, it was just some soldier-boy, too big for his britches.”
“Did you have to kill ’im?”
“He didn’t give me no choice. The boy wouldn’t leave it alone.”
“You ain’t goin’ to be none too popular around here,” Chance said, as Angus joined them.
“Yeah, well, I got no time for some snot-nosed bastard trying to prove he’s a man.”
“Did you hear anything in Dallas?” Chance asked.
“No. What about you two?”
“Nobody here has ever heard of Duke Faglier.”
“So, Angus, what do we do now?”
“We go on looking.”
“We’ve been looking for that son of a bitch for a long time now,” Percy said. “We come close to findin’ him when we was in Springfield, but he run off before we got there.”
“He deserted the army, is what he done,” Chance said. “So now if we find ’im and kill ’im, we’ll get us that two hundred dollar reward the blue-bellies has got for deserters.”
“He wasn’t in the army. He was a civilian. There ain’t no reward for him,” Angus said. Nearby was a half-filled mug of beer, left by a customer who had gone out with the others to see the commotion. Angus picked up the mug and began drinking.
“Maybe he’s joined up with the Reb army,” Percy suggested. “If he has, we ain’t never goin’ to find him.”
“He didn’t join up with the Rebs,” Chance said.
“How do you know he didn’t?”
“I just know,” Angus said, reaching for still another half-filled mug.
“All right, so what do we do now?”
“We keep looking,” Angus replied. “He killed two of our brothers. You boys can go on back up to Missouri if you want. But I, for one, don’t intend to let him get away with that.”
“I ain’t desertin’ you, Angus,” Percy said. “Wherever you decide to go, I’ll be right there with you.”
“Me, too,” Chance said. There was a beat of silence then he added, “Where will that be?”
“Austin first,” Angus said. He drained the beer from the mug, then wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Then I figure maybe San Antonio.”
“When do we get started?” Percy asked.
“Now,” Angus said. “Right now.”
Angus started toward the front door, and his two brothers were right behind him. When they reached the sidewalk, two men were gently lifting the young soldier onto the back of a buckboard.
“He’s the one did it,” they heard someone say, not in an accusing tone, but almost one of awe.
Without even making eye contact with any of the townspeople who had been drawn to the macabre scene, the three brothers mounted their horses and rode south, out of town. Not one of them looked back.
“Looks like we’re goin’ to need us a couple of pack animals after all,” Bob told James.
“Why is that?”
“The wagon’s not big enough to hold all our stuff.”
“Wait a minute,” Duke said. “That can’t be right. Maybe I don’t know cows, but I do know wagons, and there’s no reason why a big Studebaker wagon like this can’t carry everything we’ve got to carry.”
“Well, come have a look if you don’t believe me,” Bob invited. “I’m tellin’ you, it’s not going to do it.”
When James and Duke rode back to the wagon with Bob, they saw several unpacked items lying around on the ground. Revelation was leaning back against the wagon with her arms folded across her chest.
“Are you sure you packed it right?” James asked, swinging down from the saddle.
