The Last Good Day, стр. 40
B.W. shoved the money bag under the table with his foot under a stack of old harnesses.
“Like I said, it’s personal,” Rance said.
“He’s my papa,” Tommy said.
B.W. and Rance looked at Tommy. “Thought you weren’t goin’ to do that,” Rance said.
“Changed my mind. You’re right, part of that damn railroad is mine.”
“What’re you tryin’ to pull?” Sheriff Odom said.
“I’m his son,” Tommy said. “My name’s Thomas Travers.”
“No way,” Odom said.
“It’s the truth,” Rance said. “That’s why we wanted to talk to him in private.”
“I don’t know what you jackrabbits are up to, but you’re goin’ to jail until I do.” Sheriff Odom raised his shotgun toward them. “Don’t go for them guns or I’ll blow you to kingdom come. Get on your feet and get out of here. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Riley,” Rance said, “go tell Travers what’s goin’ on and tell him he needs to talk to us about Alice and his son. Would you do that?”
“I can,” Riley said.
“Thanks,” Rance said.
“Riley Jones, this ain’t none of your business,” Odom said. “Now you three head out that door, you’re goin’ to jail.”
“The boy too?” B.W. asked.
“Yeah, the boy too.”
They walked out the livery stable door and across the street to the jail, the sheriff holding the shotgun on them. They went inside and he directed them to a jail cell with a bar window, two iron cots with soiled mattresses and a piss bucket. He picked up the cell keys and opened the door. “Get in there.”
They went in the cell and he locked it behind them.
“This place stinks,” Tommy said.
“Ain’t no hotel,” Odom said and eased the hammers down on the shotgun. “Gonna go see what Mister Travers wants to do with you.” He walked out of the jail and closed the door.
“Everybody keeps puttin’ us in jail.” B.W. sat down on a cot and Rance and Tommy sat down on the other one.
About an hour later, Travers and the sheriff came in. Travers walked up up to the cell door, looking at Tommy.
“You’re saying that’s my boy?”
“It is,” Rance said.
“The woman and the boy were killed in Virginia during the war,” Travers said. “Got a letter from my cousin sayin’ so.”
“Murdered would be more like it,” Rance said. “Somehow the boy survived.”
“I’m a lawyer,” B.W. said. “We’re goin’ to take you to court for his share of the railroad.”
“Well first,” Travers said, “I don’t believe you’re a lawyer. Second, ain’t a judge in these parts goin’ against me. He knows what would happen to him.”
“If it wasn’t for my mama you could go to hell,” Tommy said. “But I’m doin’ this for her, you sonofabitch.”
“No son of mine would ever talk that way to me,” Travers said.
“He would if he was raised in a saloon,” Rance said.
“I don’t believe any of this,” Travers said. “But to keep it off the streets and put an end to it, I’ll give you a thousand dollars to ride out of here with the boy and never come back.”
“You let us out of here first,” B.W. said, “and we’ll talk.”
“No talkin’ to no one, that’s the deal. I advise you to take it or you can stay in there till you rot.”
“Let us out of here and show us the money,” B.W. said.
“I’ll give you the money tomorrow. Until then you’ll stay in jail to show you I mean business,” Travers said and walked out.
“You’re not really goin’ to take that money, are you?” Tommy said.
“No, just wanted out of jail. May just kill him like I wanted to,” B.W. said. “I’ll think it over tonight.”
“No,” Rance said, “the boy don’t need it bad enough for us to kill him.”
22
Willie Preston picked up his shotgun and bag and stepped up on the car, Charlie close behind with his gear. They walked down the aisle, found a seat and sat down. The bushy-haired fat agent came on board and collected everyone’s tickets. When he walked up to Preston and Charlie he looked at the double-barrel shotgun leaning against the seat. “Those things always make me nervous,” he said, “blow a man in half.”
“Just about,” Preston said.
The fat man nodded. “Had an Indian try to bring one on board a few days ago, made him get rid of it.”
“What’d he look like?”
“A big one, long black hair dressed in black with a feather in his hat. Don’t know what tribe, though. Creepy lookin’ fella.”
“By himself?”
“No, was with a one-armed man and a boy.”
“Where was they headed?”
“Traversville, same as you yesterday,” he said and walked on down the aisle.
“Well, you were right, marshal,” Charlie said.
“Don’t call me that anymore, Charlie. We don’t want anyone in Traversville to know about me.”
“Okay, just got so used to it. Hard habit to break,” Charlie said. “How we goin’ to kill ‘em?”
“Keep your voice down.”
Charlie leaned closer to Preston and whispered, “Ain’t goin’ to be easy, however we do it. They’re soldiers, know somethin’ about killin.’ May be best to shoot ‘em in the back.”
“I’ll do the thinkin’, you do the shootin’ when I tell you.”
“Way it’s always been,” Charlie said. “We’re goin’ to need horses, would hate to be stranded there and have to steal one.”
“Wouldn’t be your first time, would it?” Preston said. “Checked you out ‘fore I hired you. Was wanted for horse rustling back in Kansas. Figured it was cause of the war and let it go.”
“Was just tryin’ to keep them from the rebels,” Charlie said.
“Sure you were.”
“That’s the gospel truth.”
“Don’t matter now anyway.” Preston slid down in the seat and pushed his hat over his eyes.
“You know, marsh...uh, Willie, I ain’t ever goin’ to trust another woman as long as I live.”
Preston raised his hat up. “First time one shakes her tail at you, you won’t remember a damn thing.”
“Don’t think so,” Charlie said. “How far is it from Texarkana to