“But the building material . . .”
“All your friends and neighbors pitched in to buy the material, and Bob Guthrie at Guthrie Building Supply, gave us a very good price.”
“And there’s enough money left over to furnish the house,” Meagan said. “Sara Sue, Vi and I will help you pick everything out, and then we’ll help move you in, won’t we, Vi?”
“Oh yes indeed!” Vi said.
“Oh,” Sara Sue said as tears began to roll down her cheeks. “I can’t believe all this. What a wonderful thing for you to do!”
“What did I tell you, Sara Sue? I told you that we had the best neighbors in the world, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you have told me that, and I can see now that you weren’t exaggerating at all. You actually do have the nicest neighbors in the world.”
“No, I don’t have the nicest neighbors in the world,” Percy said resolutely.
“Oh, Percy, how can you say such a thing, knowing what they have done?”
Percy smiled broadly and reached over to put his hand on Sara Sue’s cheek.
“We have the best neighbors in the world.” Percy emphasized the word we.
“Oh! As soon as we are moved in, I want to invite all of you over to be our very first houseguests.”
“In the meantime . . . you will need a place to stay, so I’ve made arrangements for you to stay here,” Duff said.
“I can’t stay here without doing something to repay you,” Sara Sue said. “I shall keep your house spotless.”
“Except for the kitchen,” Elmer said.
“Why not the kitchen?”
“The kitchen belongs to Wang,” Elmer explained. “Oh, I suppose you can go in there, if you aren’t afraid of Wang coming after you with a cleaver.”
Sara Sue and the others laughed.
“I shall leave Wang with his domain,” she promised.
Chapter Thirty-one
When Lucien Bodine arrived in Chugwater his first thought was that it was no different from any of the other small towns he had been in over the last ten years. But as he rode north on Clay Street, he saw a town of industrious people. There were a couple of freight wagons moving in the street, half a dozen buckboards, and that many more on horseback. Wooden plank sidewalks lined each side of the street and they, too, were filled with people, all of whom seemed to have some place to go.
As he rode past the sheriff’s office, he saw a man, wearing a badge, leaning against the post that supported the porch roof. He was smoking a cigar and greeting people who passed by. Bodine dipped his head slightly and looked away from the lawman as he passed. He had never been in Wyoming before, so he had no way of knowing whether or not the lawman would recognize him, but he thought it would be better not to take a chance.
He knew, from the newspaper article, that Chugwater was where his brother was killed, but the article had not identified the man who killed him. Bodine intended to find out that bit of information, though he wasn’t quite sure how he should go about it. If he started asking questions he might arouse a little more attention than he wanted.
Bodine was in no particular hurry. His brother was dead and would stay dead for as long as it took for Bodine to avenge him.
Bodine was tired, hungry, and thirsty from the long ride up. He still had most of the money he had taken when he robbed Garland’s Road Ranch, for the simple reason that there had been little opportunity for him to spend it. The Wild Hog Saloon seemed to call out to him, so he stopped in front, looped the reins around the hitching rack, and went inside.
“What’ll it be?” the bartender asked, making a swipe across the bar with a wet and smelly rag.
Bodine ordered, and was served, a beer.
“You got ’nything to eat here?” Bodine asked after taking his first swallow.
“Ham, beans, biscuits.”
“Bring it to me over at the table.”
“That’ll be two bits.”
Bodine slapped a quarter down, then took his beer to a table that he chose specifically so that his back would be in the corner, making it very difficult for anyone to approach him without being seen.
* * *
When Sid Shamrock stepped through the batwing doors of the Wild Hog Saloon, he saw an old familiar face. Lucien Bodine was sitting alone at a table in the back of the saloon. He was eating, and paying more attention to the food on his table than to anyone in the room.
For just a moment Shamrock considered going over to talk to him, but then he decided against it. Bodine was one of the most volatile men Shamrock had ever known, and if he happened to see the badge pinned to his shirt, Bodine could start shooting before Shamrock could explain its purpose.
Shamrock needed to avoid being seen by Bodine until he was able to figure out how best to handle the situation. Although he preferred spending his time in the Wild Hog Saloon, he decided that under the circumstances, and to avoid being seen by Bodine, it might be best for him to give Fiddler’s Green his business. He eased back out before Bodine looked up from his beans.
“Captain Harris,” Biff greeted when Shamrock stepped up to the Fiddler’s Green bar a few minutes later. “I must say that I’m surprised to see you here. I had been given to understand that the Wild Hog is your preferred watering hole.”
“It is, but there’s a feller in there right now that I would just as lief not see.”
“You and your . . . deputies . . . have been busy, I hear. Damming up the water sources for half a dozen ranches, and, how many herds have you taken?” Biff asked.
“It’s all legal,” Shamrock said. “It ain’t like we was stealin’ or nothin’.”
Shamrock ordered a beer, then glanced down at the other end of the bar where a couple of cowboys were in animated conversation.
“Well,
