William Johnstone - Snake River Slaughter

“Blue and regal might be all right if I were going to England to meet Tommy’s family. But I’m going to Chicago.”

“Then might I suggest red and daring?”

“Yes!” Kitty said. “Red and daring. I knew I could count on you.”

“Hmm, now, I know why you are going to Chicago,” Anna said.

“I’m going to sell horses.”

“But you are going to meet someone there, aren’t you?”

“No,” Kitty said. “Nobody except the army agent who will be buying the horses.”

“Kitty, you aren’t telling me everything,” Anna said. “If you aren’t meeting someone there, then why would you want a dress that is red and daring?”

Kitty smiled. “You didn’t ask me who I was going with,” she said.

“Why, Kitty Wellington. You have a beau, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Kitty said. “The only thing is, he doesn’t know it yet.”

Chapter Twenty-two

This was the first time Matt had been inside the Sand Spur since the fight with Poke Terrell and he wasn’t sure how he would be received. Any concerns he might have had were alleviated though when Charley, the bartender, smiled at him as he stepped up to the bar.

“Matt, it’s good to see you again,” Charley said.

“Hello, Charley,” Matt greeted.

Without being asked, Charley drew Matt a beer. “I say it’s good to see you again, but then, right now, it is good to see anyone besides these polecats,” he said, indicating a table where four similarly dressed men were sitting. Matt also saw that all of them were wearing star badges pinned to their shirts.

“They look like lawmen,” Matt said.

“Ha. If you ask me, outlaws is what they are. Oh, they wear their stars, and they call themselves lawmen, but believe me, they are nothing but outlaws. And they scare away my regular customers.”

“How many are there?”

“I don’t know exactly, I’ve never counted ’em. But I think someone said there are seventeen of ’em. At least, that’s how many came into town. They call themselves the Idaho Auxiliary Peace Officers’ Posse, and their leader is a fella by the name of Clay Sherman, only, he calls hisself Colonel Sherman. Have you ever heard of them?”

Matt took a swallow of his beer as he studied the men.

“Yeah, Marshal Sparks told me about them,” Matt said. “I think he said that Poke Terrell used to ride with them.”

“Yes, I heard that too,” Charley said. “Oh, damn, you don’t think they’ve come here after you to, uh…,” he started to ask, then he interrupted his comment in midsentence.

“You can finish the question,” Matt said. “It won’t bother me.”

“No, I mean, well, they got here yesterday and that’s near ’bout all the folks in town has been talkin’ about. And ever’ one is wonderin’ why they come here. Some of ’em has been wonderin’ if, maybe, they come here because of Poke Terrell. I mean him bein’ one of their own and all.”

“You are saying they may have come here to square things for Terrell?” Matt asked.

“Yeah, sort of like that, I reckon,” Charley said. “Of course, there don’t nobody who is in the posse that actually knows you, I don’t reckon. At least, not on sight. I mean they looked up when you come in, but didn’t none of ’em give any sign of recognizin’ you. So I don’t figure you’re in any particular danger for now. And for sure, there ain’t nobody in town goin’ to be pointin’ you out to them. But if I was you, I’d sort of stay out of sight until they’re gone. Just to be on the safe side.”

“Well now, that’s going to be a problem, Charley,” Matt said.

“What’s goin’ to be a problem?”

“I’ve never been one to be on the safe side,” Matt said. He took another swallow of his beer. “As a matter of fact, I think it might be a good idea if I went over there and introduced myself to them.”

“What? Matt, what in the hell are you talkin’ about? Why would you want to do a dumb fool stunt like that?” Charley asked.

“It doesn’t hurt to be friendly now, does it?”

Matt set his beer down on the bar, then walked over to the table.

“Good morning, gents,” he said.

The four men who had been engaged in a private conversation glanced toward him for just an instant, but no one returned his greeting. They went back to their private conversation.

“Not very friendly, are you?” Matt said.

He still did not get an answer.

“I was going to try and do this in a friendly way, but for some reason you boys don’t seem to be very friendly, so I’ll just come out and say it. Move.”

Finally one of them turned toward him. “What did you say, Mister?”

“I said move,” Matt repeated. “You boys have my table. I don’t like it when someone else takes my table.”

There weren’t many other customers in the saloon at the moment, but hearing Matt challenge the four posse members got their attention. All conversation stopped as everyone looked on with shocked surprise at the drama that was beginning to play out before them.

“Your table?” one of the four men replied.

“Yes. So I would appreciate it if you would move.”

The four men looked surprised, then they all began to laugh.

“Your table,” one of them repeated, and the laughter continued.

“Yes,” Matt said again.

“All right, Mister, you’ve given us a good laugh. Now, if you know what is good for you, you will go away and not bother us anymore. There are plenty of other empty tables here.”

“Yeah, I see that,” Matt said, pointedly looking around the room. “But I don’t want any of those tables. You see, this is my personal table, and this is the one I want.”

“Now just what the hell makes you think this is your— personal —table?” the talkative one asked. He dragged out the word “personal.”

“What’s your name, Mister?” Matt asked.

“My name is Luke Scraggs. Lieutenant Luke Scraggs of the Idaho Auxiliary Peace Officers’ Posse.”

“Lieutenant Luke Scraggs of the Idaho Auxiliary Peace Officers’ Posse,” Matt repeated. “Well now, that’s just really impressive. But I’ll tell you why I think this is my table, Scraggs. You see, this used to be Poke Terrell’s table. I’m pretty sure you’ve heard of Poke Terrell, haven’t you? I hear he used to ride with you.”

“Yeah, he did,” Scraggs said. “As a matter of fact, he was a good friend of mine.”

“Was he now? Well then, you should be particularly interested in why I consider this to be my table. You see, it used to be Terrell’s table, but I killed him. Now, that makes this my table.”

“You are the one who killed him?”

“That’s right.”

“You’re Matt Jensen?” Scraggs asked, angrily.

“Oh, good, you already know who I am. That means I don’t have introduce myself. Also, it’s good to get this out in the open, don’t you think? Because I don’t like surprises.”

“What do you mean by surprises?” Scraggs asked.

“What I mean is, if any of you have a bone to pick with me, I don’t want you sneaking around to shoot me in the back.”

“Mister, if we had a bone to pick with you, we wouldn’t have to shoot you in the back. You may have noticed, there are four of us here and only one of you,” Scraggs said.

“Gentlemen, Mr. Scraggs seems to be doing all the talking,” Matt said. “Is he talking for all of you?”

“Yeah,” one of the other men said. “Whatever Lieutenant Scraggs says, we all say.”

“That’s good to know,” Matt said. “Because if any of you do start anything now, the lieutenant, here, will be the first one to die.”

“Mister, we was just sittin’ over here, mindin’ our own business when you come over and started on us,” the second speaker said. “So if somethin’ was to happen, and we was to kill you now, there wouldn’t be no jury anywhere that would say it is our fault.”