Ralph Compton Straight Shooter Page 12

  “Can it wait?” Marshal Borden asked.

  “The bleeding’s stopped, but I wouldn’t want to wait too long.”

  “Fine. Collect what you need to do the job. We shouldn’t be much longer.” Looking over to the rest of his men, he said, “Why don’t you offer our guests something to drink?”

  The rain outside grew louder as Mark opened the front door and hurried from the office. When it was closed again, Aldus couldn’t help feeling cooped up and restless inside that room with all those eyes pointed in his direction.

  “So we’re guests now?” Hayes asked.

  “Like I told you before. Arresting you was just a formality. You’re still obliged to tell me what I want to know, though, so don’t get too comfortable on that high horse of yours.”

  “I didn’t . . . I mean . . . ,” Hayes stammered. Finally he settled on saying, “We’re not here to pose any problems, Marshal.”

  “Good. First let’s start with why you are here.”

  “I told you when I first arrived,” Hayes said. “I repair, build, and sell firearms as well as ammunition. I was told to say hello to Cal Overland when I got settled.”

  “Who sent you?” Borden asked.

  “A good man by the name of Jack Grable. He’s a merchant like myself in Cedar Rapids.”

  “I know who he is.”

  Smiling as though the matter were already resolved, Hayes said, “Well, then! It truly is a small world.”

  None of the other men in the room, Aldus included, shared Hayes’s enthusiasm. Impressed least of all was Marshal Borden. “What brought you to Seedley?” he asked. “I’m guessing it was more than to give Cal your regards.”

  “I do plenty of work in Cedar Rapids myself,” Hayes explained. “Mr. Grable and I both noticed that there’s been a steady stream of demand for our particular brand of work from men representing this very town.”

  “By work, you mean building guns?”

  “Building, repairing, supplying. You name it. Any need that has to be met in the field of quality firearms that can’t be met by a simple blacksmith. Gunsmithing is a craft all its own, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

  “So this Grable fella asked you to drag your wagons and your associate all the way into town?”

  “Look,” Aldus growled. “I know you had a bad time of it here with this shooting and all, but we don’t have to be raked over the coals just because we happened to show up at the same time.”

  The marshal nodded. “It does seem like a mighty big coincidence. And since you two were in the thick of it, I need to see if there’s anything else you can tell me about what happened.”

  “You were there just like we were,” Aldus said. “Although . . . you did miss that one fella who I tore after.”

  “Now, now,” Hayes warned tersely. “No need for hostilities.”

  Aldus shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The wound in his side was nagging at him like a row of fire ants biting into tender flesh.

  Looking at the marshal, Hayes said, “We’re at your service.”

  “Good,” Borden replied. “Since your hired hand there seems to have a burr under his saddle, perhaps he could tell me why he took it upon himself to chase down that other man.”

  “Because he took a shot at me,” Aldus said.

  “How’d you know he’d be there?”

  “I didn’t. I just saw him after he fired.”

  “You saw him when none of my men could see him?” Borden asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “Pardon me,” Hayes said. “But it seems that my friend here is being questioned when he should be thanked. After all, he did take it upon himself to put his life in jeopardy when he could very well have sought shelter and let that dangerous criminal get away. If he didn’t take the action he did, you wouldn’t have anyone in your jail right now.”

  “You got a real good point there, Mr. Hayes,” Borden said. “I’m just making sure this wasn’t some kind of setup instead of the long string of coincidences that it appears to be. You see, a man in my line of work doesn’t generally like coincidences.”

  Hayes had always been a curious man. Many times, his incessant questioning of everything around him had taken him and Aldus in some unusual and sometimes profitable directions. His interest was piqued now, and his tangled, messy eyebrows rose when he asked, “Is that so? How many coincidences do you mean?”

  But the marshal wasn’t going to indulge Hayes’s curiosity in the slightest. He shut it down with a quick “Not your concern” and shifted his eyes back to Aldus. “Most men don’t exactly run toward gunfire, so perhaps you could see why I might have a concern or two about you.”

  “He was shooting at us,” Aldus said. “Shooting at you, too. I didn’t have a lot of places to hide and figured I’d just get shot if I stood still.”

  “You could have hidden behind that wagon,” Borden pointed out. “Or even under it, for that matter.”

  “I thought I could do something better than hide.” Aldus straightened his posture, and when he felt the pain from his wound, it was reflected in the fire in his eyes. “Maybe you should ask your questions to the man in the cell back there.”

  The marshal’s eyes remained locked on Aldus. Then they shifted over to Hayes as if he was sizing up each man, straight down to his soul. Nodding toward the doorway at the back of the room, he said, “Paul, give us a moment.”

  One of the deputies, a portly fellow with a beard that covered the entire lower portion of his face, walked into the room with the jail cells and shut the door behind him.

  “Don’t you worry none,” Borden said to Hayes and Aldus. “I’ll be asking plenty of questions to my guest back there. And if what he tells me doesn’t match up with what you did, we’ll have ourselves another go-around.”

  “That man tried to kill us,” Hayes said. “Surely you can’t expect him to be honest under questioning.”

  “Let me get to the bottom of when he’s honest or not. Before I cut you loose, what can you tell me about the men who came to see you in Cedar Rapids?”

  “I don’t believe I got any names,” Hayes replied. “To be perfectly frank, it was my associate Mr. Grable who dealt with most of them.”

  “What can you tell me about Grable, then?”

  “What does this have to do with anything?”

  “It’s got to do with the fact that I’ve had almost a dozen men turn up dead here in Seedley and it wasn’t by natural causes,” Borden explained. “Some were shot. One was stabbed. The rest were strung up just outside town.”

  “Sounds like the work of a lynch mob,” Hayes said.

  “I figured as much on my own,” the marshal told him. “Since some of the men were under my protection, it also seems like the work of someone who’s getting word from inside this office. What might you know about that?”

  It was rare that Hayes was at a loss for words. When it happened this time, his mouth hung open, some of the color drained from his face and he looked over to Aldus for support.

  “What are you telling this to us for?” Aldus asked.

  “Because I wanted to see if you knew anything about it,” Borden explained. “And don’t feel too privileged. Just about everyone in town who’s paying attention to the bodies being found already knows most of what I just told you. But one thing they don’t know is that some of the guns used in these killings were bought and paid for in Cedar Rapids.”

  “How can you be sure of that?”

  “Because I got it straight from the source. I can arrange for you to get a look at the man who told me, and when I do, all I need is for you to verify that you’ve seen him before.”

  “What if I can’t?” Hayes asked.

  “Then I go about my job and you go about yours. I haven’t seen him around lately, so you’ll have to wait until I can scrounge him up.”
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  “So we’re free to ply our trade here in Seedley?”

  The lawman nodded. “It’ll give you something to do, since I’m gonna ask that you don’t leave town for a few days. You saw the sign posted regarding the firearms registration ordinance?”

  “I did. That’s why I came in to introduce myself in the first place.”

  “That ordinance was started to give me something to work with where these troubling matters are concerned. To that end, I’ll need to know what you’re bringing into Seedley.”

  “I keep very good records,” Hayes said proudly.

  “I’m sure you do.” The marshal stood up as his front door came open and Mark hurried in out of the rain. “I’ll let you get stitched up, Mr. Bricker. It’s a real pleasure to meet you.” He extended a hand and when Aldus shook it, the marshal added, “I’m real appreciative of what you did where bringing in that shooter is concerned.”

  “You can repay me by sending some business our way,” Aldus replied.

  “I’m hoping you won’t have any shortage of customers while you’re in town.” The lawman excused himself to step into the room containing the jail cells.

  Even though getting his wound stitched together wasn’t exactly a pleasant process, Aldus would much rather have been in his seat than the prisoner’s.

  Chapter 12

  The rest of the day, while not as eventful as their arrival, was exceedingly busy for Aldus. After he was allowed to leave the marshal’s office, he and Hayes had to scout for a good location to park their wagons. Rain was falling in steady sheets, but that didn’t prevent them from riding back down Main Street to essentially retrace their steps from when they’d entered Seedley. The other end of town was overgrown with tall weeds, leaving them with limited choices to set up their gallery. Deciding on a mostly clear field about two hundred yards southeast of town, they lined their wagons up and parked them.

  Hayes ducked into the covered wagon carrying most of his supplies so he could find the ledger with the inventory list requested by Marshal Borden while Aldus unhitched the horses and took them back into town. There was a stable on Rose Street, which was the first one to cross Main. All of the horses were tired, wet, and very happy to be inside once arrangements for them were made. Aldus paid for two days in advance before stepping out into rain that showed no sign of letting up.

  So far, Aldus had spotted two general stores and one feed store in town. What caught his interest, however, was the hotel and saloon that were built almost directly across from each other on Main Street. He meant to go to the hotel first to secure a place for them to stay, but walking for so long in the pouring rain had drenched Aldus to the bone. Not only were his stitches a source of discomfort, but every one of his joints felt like rusty parts in an aging machine. The saloon was closer than the hotel, but even if it had been on the other side of town, he’d have gone there first.

  The place was called the Prospector. It was longer than it was wide, which wasn’t saying much since its single floor was about the same size as the stable Aldus had just visited. The bar was cobbled from spare lumber, most of which looked to have been old doors. Instead of a mirror or a painting behind the bar, there was only an old pickax and a few dented tin pans. More than likely, there was a story behind those items, but Aldus didn’t want to hear it when he stepped up and slapped his hand upon one of the salvaged doors to catch the attention of the barkeep.

  “What can I get for you, friend?” the barkeep asked.

  Aldus let out a tired laugh. “Friend? That sure beats the reception I got from the lawmen around here.”

  The barkeep stood just under average height with long, stringy hair growing down to a set of bony shoulders. His smile was genuine enough, however, to offset his somewhat ghoulish looks. “Marshal Borden’s probably just jealous that you got more of his work done today than he did.”

  “You saw what happened out on the street?”

  “We sure did,” the barkeep replied. “Damn shame about what happened to Lefty.”

  “Who’s Lefty?”

  The barkeep’s expression darkened considerably as he said, “William Leftinson. He’s the deputy who was gunned down.”

  Aldus lowered his head. “He was a deputy?”

  “Yep. Fine man, too.”

  “Sorry about what happened.”

  Although still saddened by the news, the barkeep put on a good front and placed a glass in front of Aldus. “You sure did take off running after that other one. None of us even saw that fella until you flushed him out!” The others the barkeep referred to were an assortment of men scattered at the bar and a few of the five small tables in the saloon. Most of them were positioned as close as they could get to a potbellied stove against the back wall. They all nodded in agreement to what the barkeep had said. A few even raised their drinks in a silent toast.

  “I just got angry, is all,” Aldus said. “Come to think of it, there was angry and a liberal dose of stupid to go along with it.”

  “Whichever it was, it was a sight to see. Let me set you up with a drink. How about a whiskey to warm you up? You look like you been dragged through a river.”

  “And you look like my new favorite man in town.”

  “Don’t get too happy, friend. After that first drink, you’ll pay just like everyone else.”

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m Aldus Bricker.”

  “Folks around here call me Swede. What brings you to town?”

  “I work for a gunsmith who just got to Seedley. We travel all throughout these parts, but never got around to coming here until today.”

  “Picked a bad day to get here,” Swede said. “Gunsmith, you say?”

  “That’s right. We sell firearms, repair them, you name it.” Just then, the front door opened to allow a sopping-wet figure hurry inside. “Speak of the devil,” Aldus said. “Here’s my partner now.”

  “Any friend of Aldus is a friend of mine!” Swede declared. “He gets a free drink as well. Step up and enjoy.”

  Despite the water trickling down his face, Hayes smiled as he asked, “Another boxing enthusiast?”

  “Just someone who looks out his window,” Aldus replied. “You on your way to see the marshal?”

  The salesman stood beside Aldus at the bar. He held his coat closed over a thick ledger, which he revealed when he removed the book and set it down. “After being treated like common criminals when we were clearly caught in that cross fire, I’m in no hurry to appease that man.”

  “Hear, hear!” Aldus said.

  As soon as he got his drink, Hayes mirrored that sentiment before downing the whiskey.

  As soon as he set down his empty glass, Aldus held it out for Swede to fill it. “How’d you know where to find me?” he asked Hayes.

  “I didn’t,” Hayes told him. “I just couldn’t find where you hid that bottle you keep in the other wagon and came over here to warm up. Did you get us a place to stay?”

  “There’s a hotel across the street,” Aldus replied. “Looks as good as any other.”

  “Did you get the rooms?”

  “Nope. Figured I’d come in here first.”

  “Just as well,” Hayes said. After a pause, he added, “So . . . it seems Jack Grable’s friend isn’t very popular around here with the law.”

  “Who?”

  “Cal Overland,” Hayes said in an impatient tone. “The man Jack Grable told me to mention to get that gun business that flows from this town. If he’s somehow wrapped up in that shooting, then dropping his name to that marshal when I first arrived was about the worst thing I could’ve done.”

  “If it was so bad, I don’t think that marshal is the sort of man who’d hesitate to put you behind bars. He was just tryin’ to scare us.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yeah,” Aldus said. “I’ve been on both ends of
that evil eye he was givin’ to both of us. Them lawmen were sizing us up and trying to see if we’d crack.”

  “Another thing you learned as a fighter?”

  “You’d be surprised how much you can learn when you’re thrown to the wolves. That marshal talked to me like some of the men from them docks in New York. They bark and snarl at you just to see if you’re all talk. If you stand your ground and don’t flinch, they’ll either respect you or back down. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, they’ll do both.”

  Hayes lowered his voice, but was unable to hide his glee when he said, “It seems to me that you accomplished both in that office. Very impressive.”

  “What’s gonna be impressive is if you can muster up enough sales to pay for our hotel rooms and a few meals.”

  “Why do you say that?” Hayes asked as the glimmer in his eye was snuffed out quicker than a candle in a windstorm.

  “Because it seems there’s some trouble in this town that’s gotten bad enough for lawmen to be shot down in the street. Tell me you don’t think that’ll make people skittish to approach us.”

  “It might,” Hayes sighed. “Or it might make them want to arm themselves for protection. For the moment, I’d rather put that unpleasantness aside.”

  “Sorry to spoil it,” Aldus said.

  “We should still be able to make some money with the shooting gallery. That’s always a popular attraction.”

  “Sure. For a day or two. It’s not enough to make up for what we lost.”

  “Maybe we should still visit Cal Overland,” Hayes said. “There’s always a chance that this matter is just some unfortunate event that has nothing to do with what brought us here. Mr. Overland sounds like an influential man around here. There’s no reason to assume he’s wrapped up in anything suspicious.”

  “A steady flow of men coming from a flea speck of a town looking for guns?” Aldus mused. “Nothing suspicious about that.”

  “Eh, just finish your drink.”

  • • •

  It rained for the rest of the day and well into the night. That was fine with Aldus since it meant nothing much could be done to set up the shooting gallery. Even though he’d gone through those motions several dozen times, it was still a grueling and tedious process that never failed to put a kink in his back and a whole lot of splinters into his hands. Since he didn’t have to worry about that tonight, all that remained was to run across the street and rent two rooms in the Main Rose Hotel. Aldus didn’t have much trouble reading the name of the place on the sign out front because they were the same words on the street signs nearby. For once, someone else’s laziness actually made something a little easier.