The Bounty Hunters, page 8
“I’m not even sure they’re coming,” Travis said.
“Then how long you aim to hold that shack for them?” Quigley asked. “My hotel’s full up now. Every room. And more people coming to town every day looking for some place to stay. I hate to send them away when that house is just standing empty like that.”
“I’ve already paid the rent for a week,” Travis said.
“Well, at the end of the week, if they ain’t showed up, I’ll have to let someone else have it,” Quigley said. “You don’t even know if they’re coming or not. And I don’t know what they look like or what names they’ll be using. How will I know they’re the right ones?”
“You can’t miss them,” Travis said. “A beautiful Mexican woman and a fancy young fellow with dark hair and heavy sideburns.”
“Well, I don’t like it,” Quigley said. “It sounds like trouble to me and I don’t want no trouble here. There’s been too much of it around here already. You say you don’t want me to even mention you being here, is that right?”
“That’s right,” Travis said. “Go ahead and charge them a week’s rent in advance and don’t tell them I already paid. If they can’t pay, go ahead and let them have the house anyway and I’ll square it with you later. They won’t be here more than a day or two, so you should come out way ahead on the deal.”
“Well, I still don’t like it,” Quigley said. “There ain’t no law in this town and everyone’s took advantage of it long enough. It’s getting so it ain’t safe to walk out on the street.”
“Maybe you’d better stay in your hotel more,” Travis suggested.
“It ain’t safe there either,” Quigley said, shaking his egg-shaped head. “A few weeks back there was a shooting right in my lobby. Took me half a day to get the blood cleaned up, and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it, because both of the men were killed. Not only that, I ended up having to bury them out of my own pocket.”
Travis took a gold piece from his pocket and flipped it to Quigley. “That should pay for a box and a gravedigger, if you need one.”
Quigley plucked the coin out of the air and looked at it with greedy eyes, even as he said, “Now wait a minute! If there’s gonna be a killing, take it somewhere else. I’ve already had enough trouble around here.”
“Maybe there won’t be any trouble,” Travis said. “They should have been here already if they were coming. If they don’t come, you can keep that for your trouble.”
“Well, I don’t want no trouble,” Quigley said. “Take it somewhere else. Anyway, there’s a lady just came in on the stage asking if I had a house for rent. She seems like a real nice lady and I’m afraid she’ll rent from someone else if one of those cabins don’t soon become available. She came here looking for her husband and if he’s here she said they’d want a small house.”
“This one will be available in a few days,” Travis said, and glanced around the small cramped room. “But I sort of doubt if it’s what she’s got in mind.”
Ma Pritchett’s Boarding House was a long barnlike building crammed with bunks. Joe Mason was lying on his back near the door when Ma Pritchett came in and shouted, “Mason! Joe Mason! You in here?”
“Here,” Mason said.
“Get on up to the Miners Hotel,” Ma said. “Your wife’s up there. Come in on the stage today. I would of told you when you come in, but I can’t keep track of who’s who around here.”
Ma Pritchett went back out and Joe Mason lay on his bunk for a few minutes without moving.
“Wife?” Dag Vogler grunted. “Where the hell did he find a wife?”
“Prob’ly looks like a crow,” Deke Hutter said, his cat eyes shining in a swarthy, pock-marked face. He had the bunk over Vogler’s and diagonally across the aisle from Mason’s. They were both tough, hardened miners and neither had a very high opinion of Joe Mason. He was too quiet for their liking and worse yet he never had anything to do with them. He ignored their crude jokes and even their insults so completely that they themselves felt insulted.
Mason got up and put on his coat and hat. He hated to leave his carpetbag under the bunk, but if he took it with him Lorna might think he had come expecting to spend the night with her—and he did not want her to think that. So he left the carpetbag where it was and went down the aisle toward the door.
“Give her a big hug and kiss for me,” Vogler called after him, and then laughed.
Mason went on out as if he had not heard, but his right hand gripped the short-barreled revolver in his coat pocket. The trouble with that was that Vogler did not even have a gun. He did his fighting with his huge, hamlike fists. He stood well over six feet tall and weighed at least two hundred forty pounds. Joe Mason stood five feet ten inches tall and weighed only a hundred and sixty pounds, and he had no intention of fighting Vogler with his fists. The only thing he could do against such a brute would be to use a gun on him, and then he would either have to get out of town or hang for murder.
Deke Hutter had a gun, but he preferred to use a knife in a dark alley. He had openly bragged of killing several men with his “toothpick.” So far, however, he hadn’t killed anyone in Nowhere.
On the street Mason turned up the collar of his coat against the cold wind and glanced up at the dark mountain towering over the town. He hated cold weather and he was afraid that any day now he would find himself snowed in here for the winter. With the likes of Vogler and Hutter to keep him company.
Then he remembered Lorna and gritted his teeth. As if he did not have enough trouble, she had to show up. What made it even worse was that he knew she had only come here out of a sense of guilt. She did not really want him back. She just could not accept the fact that he did not want her. She could not get it through her head that it was over between them.
He bent his head and pushed his way through the shivering crowd on the street. It had been dark only about an hour but already many of the people were heading for their bunks or crowding into the saloons to get out of the cold wind.
Turning into the Miners Hotel, Mason approached the desk and said to the young clerk, “Which room is Lorna Mason in? She’s expecting me.”
The clerk flushed with jealousy and seemed on the point of refusing to tell him. But then he looked into Joe Mason’s pale blue eyes and changed his mind. “She’s in 4. Upstairs on the right.”
Mason nodded and climbed the stairs. He stood in front of her door for a moment and then reluctantly knocked.
“Who is it?” Lorna called.
“Me,” he grunted.
“Joe?” She opened the door and looked at him searchingly out of her green eyes. God, she was beautiful. He had forgotten how beautiful and desirable she was. It seemed to him now that he had been a fool to think a woman like her would remain true to a plain, dull man like him for the rest of their lives.
“I wasn’t sure you’d get my message,” she said.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
She gave him an anxious look. She seemed a little shocked by the coldness of his eyes. “I thought you might have changed your mind,” she said.
“And what about your outlaw friend?” Joe Mason asked. “Or is it someone else by now?”
“It isn’t anyone,” she said, her face reddening with a stung expression. “That’s why I’m here.”
“What did you tell Hubbard, or whatever his name is?”
“I told him I wanted to try and patch things up with my husband,” she said.
“And if you can’t, I guess you’ll go running back to him,” Mason said, unable to hide his bitterness.
Lorna’s eyes shifted away for a moment, and that told him more than he wanted to know.
“Even if I took you back,” he said, “I’d never know when you’d get bored and go running back to him. The way you went running off to stay with your aunt in Dallas. That’s how you met him in the first place.”
“I think I’ve learned my lesson,” she said, her beautiful face getting redder and redder. “I don’t know how I’ll feel a year from now. Neither of us can be sure it will work out. But I think we should give it a try.”
“You seem to forget,” he said. “We already gave it a try. I already took you back once and then you went running off with that outlaw again. Like some brainless girl looking for excitement.”
“I’ve had enough excitement,” Lorna said. “Now I just want to settle down. Go back to Cherryvale with you, or wherever you want to go.”
Joe Mason stared at her with bitter eyes. He was stung by her confidence that he would take her back again. She probably knew he was still in love with her, in spite of his hurt and bitterness. She knew how beautiful and desirable she was, knew that very few men could resist her. The question was, what did she want with him, when she could have any man she set her eyes on? Whatever it was, it would not keep her with him for long. The past was proof of that.
He hated her for coming here and reminding him of how much he had lost, how much he still wanted her. He wanted so much to take her back, but his pride wouldn’t let him—not even if he had known it would be forever. But he figured it would last about as long as it had the last time.
“I guess I’m not much of a bargain,” she said. “But a lot of men would be glad to have me on any terms.”
“I’m not a lot of men,” he said. “Can’t you get it through your head it’s over between us? I don’t intend to spend the rest of my life wondering when you’d run off again or waiting around till you decide to come back for a while. I guess I’m not what you wanted in the first place.”
There was a still, almost numb look on Lorna’s face. She turned and stood with her back to him, facing the dark window. “I guess I shouldn’t have come,” she said finally. “But I thought I owed it to you.”
“Owed me another chance, you mean?” he asked with a sarcastic smile.
“In a way, I guess that’s what I meant,” she said. “But if you don’t want me, I won’t bother you again. I’ll keep out of your life.” She turned and looked at him out of strangely sad green eyes. “Just be sure that’s what you want, Joe.”
What Joe Mason wanted at that moment was to cry. There was so much inside him that he could not say, so much he had no words for. And he could not have said it even if he had known the words. His pride would not have let him. He looked at Lorna with his bitter eyes and left without another word.
When he got back to Ma Pritchett’s Boarding House he found the contents of his carpetbag scattered around his bunk. The old man who had the bunk over his pretended to be asleep, and a good many others in the long room obviously were asleep, from the sound of their snoring. But Dag Vogler and Deke Hutter were wide awake, watching him with malicious grins. He knew they were the ones who had strewn his things on the floor. But he did not say anything. He just clenched his jaws in silence and began picking up his things and stuffing them back in the carpetbag. He was glad he had not left his gun in the carpetbag, for they would have certainly taken that. He had nothing else worth stealing.
Chapter 10
It was noon the next day. The hotel dining room was crowded, but Travis had a table to himself. He had finished eating and was sipping his coffee when Lorna Mason came through the door. She paused to glance about the room, saw him and after a moment made her way to his table, ignoring the stares of the other men in the room.
“You seem to have the only table where there’s an empty place,” she said. “Is it all right if I join you?”
“Please do,” he said with a faintly ironical smile.
She sat down and studied his clean-shaven face in silence a moment—he had shaved the beard off. “We seem to keep running into each other,” Lorna said. “Maybe it’s fate or something.”
“Or something,” Travis said.
“My husband works in one of the mines here,” Lorna said, and then fell silent.
“You plan to stay here?” Travis asked. “Not that it’s any of my business.”
“I know,” Lorna said, a little sadly. “You’re just trying to make conversation. But to answer your question, no, I don’t think so.” She was silent a moment and then added, “My husband wasn’t too happy to see me.”
“Sorry,” Travis said.
Lorna studied his face a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t guess it would have worked out anyway. I don’t think we were cut out for each other. We grew up together back in Kansas and he seemed like the nicest boy around. It was always taken for granted that we would get married, so we did. But I think I always thought of him more as a brother than a husband. I was never quite sure how he thought of me. He’s not a person who shows his feelings or talks a lot. I think that was part of the trouble—we never knew how to talk to each other.”
A cross-eyed waitress came over and said to Lorna, “What’ll you have?”
“Whatever you’ve got and some coffee, please,” Lorna said, and the waitress moved on to another table.
Lorna looked at Travis. “That man you told me about in Comanche Crossing—I guess you know he’s looking for you?”
Travis silently nodded, sipping his coffee.
“He wants to turn you over to Sam Grayson for the reward he’s offered for you,” Lorna said.
Travis very nearly winced and glanced quickly about at the nearby diners to see if anyone was listening.
Lorna Mason put her hand over her mouth and said softly, “Oh, I didn’t think. I don’t guess you wanted the whole town to know about it.”
Travis shrugged. “When was the last time you saw him?”
“Oh, not since Comanche Crossing,” Lorna said. She smiled a little. “He wanted me to help him find you.”
“Well, it looks like you’ve found me,” Travis said. “Now what?”
“Oh, I didn’t come here looking for you,” Lorna said. “I didn’t even know you’d be here. I came here to find my husband.”
Travis was silent.
“If you don’t believe me, you can go to Ma Pritchett’s Boarding House and they’ll tell you he’s staying there,” Lorna said. “His name’s Joe Mason.”
“Somehow you don’t look much like a miner’s wife,” Travis said.
“Joe wasn’t always a miner,” Lorna said. “And my folks were pretty well off. My father ran a store in Cherryvale. After he died I sold it for a pretty good price. Joe wouldn’t take any of the money. But it won’t last me forever.” She smiled a little. “I’ve been traveling around like a lady of means, but one of these days I’ll find myself having to wash dishes to pay for my supper.”
“Maybe you should marry a rich husband the next time,” Travis said.
“I’m still married to Joe,” Lorna said. “I don’t guess I’d better marry anyone else until I get a divorce from him, and I hate to even ask him for one. He’ll think I want to marry the next man I see.” She dropped her glance. “Or Barney maybe.”
“Why maybe?” Travis asked.
Lorna looked up at him and said after a moment, “Because I’m not in love with him. We just happened to meet on a stage one day when I was feeling very lonely and beginning to realize that Joe and I weren’t meant for each other. Everything that’s happened since wouldn’t have happened if I had really thought Joe and I could ever make a go of it. I don’t know why I tried to find him again. I guess because I know Barney’s not the right man for me either.”
Travis looked through the window and saw the stage pulling up out front. He saw Billy Primrose and Nita Ramsey getting out of the stage.
“Excuse me,” he said, getting to his feet. He laid some money on the table and stood looking down at Lorna Mason for a moment. “I hope you find the right man.”
Lorna Mason smiled a rather sad smile, but did not say anything.
Travis tipped his hat and went out into the lobby, where he intercepted Quigley heading for the front door to greet the stage arrivals. Travis put his hand on the old man’s arm to detain him and nodded toward the window.
“See those two getting off the stage? They’re the ones.”
The old man looked disappointed. “I was hoping they wouldn’t come here,” he said.
“I guess it was fate,” Travis said. “I’ll use your back door, if you don’t mind. I want to surprise them, but not just yet.”
Travis sat in his small rented shack behind the hotel, a wry ironical smile masking his face and his thoughts. Billy Primrose and Nita Ramsey were already in the shack farther back that he had secretly reserved for them. He had seen old Quigley take them back to show them the place, from sheer habit trying hard to rent it to them even though he already had his money and they were not guests he wanted in one of his houses. Quigley had soon gone back by clutching more money in his hand and casting a sly look at Travis’s window as he passed.
The window had no glass. Just a piece of canvas which Travis had removed. It was a very small window and Billy Primrose and Nita Ramsey had not even glanced at it when they went by with Quigley.
A short time after Quigley had returned to his hotel, Travis heard their door close and they came by talking quietly, oblivious of him at the window watching them with a grim, cold smile. He stared hard at Billy Primrose’s handsome punk face, wavy dark hair and conceited swagger. His face changed slightly when he looked at Nita Ramsey, who was breathtakingly beautiful in a dark skirt and a man’s bright-colored serape. Her long black hair had a rich lustre and the wind had brought out the healthy color of her cheeks. Her eyes were deep dark pools, big enough to swim in—or drown in.
About an hour later they came back by and still did not notice him at his window. After he heard their door close Travis took out his gun and checked it.
He still had the gun in his hand when he heard the door close again and Billy Primrose came back down the narrow lane by himself. When Primrose was abreast the window, Travis said to him, “Hello, Billy.”
Primrose looked at the shack and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw Travis at the window smiling at him. He grunted and his hand darted toward his gun.
Travis raised the open-top Colt into view and fired through the window-hole. Billy Primrose was slammed back against the flimsy shack behind him. As he fell he dropped his own gun and looked at Travis in an odd, blank way. He was already dead.
