William Johnstone - Thunder of Eagles

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Rose said as she took a drink.

“Yeah, I mean, Maggie won’t even let Cletus or me near any of her whores.” Ray chuckled. “The only one she’ll let be with her whores is Billy, which don’t make no sense ’cause he don’t want nothin’ to do with any of ’em.”

“I don’t know Billy,” Rose said. “He never comes into the Hog Waller.”

“No, he wouldn’t. He goes to the Golden Nugget from time to time, but he ain’t much of a drinker.”

“He don’t whore, he don’t drink, what does he do?” Rose asked.

“Ha! He sniffs around that Garrison girl is what he does.”

“I thought the Clintons and the Garrisons didn’t get along,” Rose said.

“We don’t, only Billy, he ain’t quite learned that yet,” Ray said. “I guess he sees that little ole gal and thinks she’s so pretty that nothin’ else matters. I reckon I’m goin’ to have to learn him a thing or two.”

“Folks say things is only goin’ to get worse now,” Rose said. “What with the marshal gettin’ hisself killed and all.”

“Did you go to the marshal’s funeral?” Ray asked.

“The funeral was in the church.”

“So?”

“I’m a whore, Ray, remember? I’m not the kind that would be welcome in a church,” Rose replied.

Ray laughed. “No,” he said. “No, I don’t reckon you would be. I ain’t welcome in no church neither, I don’t think. Besides which, I wouldn’t of gone to the marshal’s funeral anyway.”

“Did you go to Virgil and Jesse’s funeral?” Rose asked.

“Hell, they didn’t have no funeral,” Ray said. “Not so’s you could call it one anyway. We just buried both of ’em out on the ranch alongside Deke Mathers and Seth Parker is what we done.”

“Looks to me like your hired hands are gettin’ whittled down pretty good,” Rose said. “That’s four of ’em been killed in the last couple of weeks.”

“Yeah,” Ray said. “It’s that murderin’ son of a bitch MacCallister. What the hell is he doin’ here anyway?”

“The way I heard it, General Garrison hired him as a railroad detective to protect the railroad.”

“The railroad,” Ray said, scoffing. “There ain’t no railroad yet. And truth to tell, I don’t think they’s goin’ to ever be one. You know what I think?”

“What do you think?” Rose asked.

“Well, Garrison, he’s gettin’ a lot of money from investors and such to build the railroad, ain’t he?”

“That’s right, you can’t build a railroad if you don’t have the money,” Rose said.

“Yeah, that’s what I know. So, what if you told a bunch of investors that you was goin’ to build a railroad, and they all started givin’ you money, but then it turns out you didn’t build it? You’d have all that money and you wouldn’t have to do nothin’.”

“Oh, he’s building it all right,” Rose said.

“No, he ain’t. Unless you call buildin’ that depot buildin’ the railroad.”

“Yes, he is, he’s building the actual railroad,” Rose said. “In fact, there’s a work party out right now leveling the right-of-way and getting ready to build a trestle.”

“How do you know?”

“I know lots of things, honey,” Rose said. “It turns out that when men are with whores, they do about as much talkin’ as they do anything else.”

“I’ll be damn. So, what you’re tellin’ me is, they’s actually some men out buildin’ on the railroad now?”

“That’s what I’ve heard.”

“Where are they, do you know?”

“Right now, I think they’re bridging the Thompson Arroyo.”

“The Thompson Arroyo, huh?” Ray said. “I bet Pa don’t know that. He’s up in La Junta right now.”

La Junta

At a table at the rear of the saloon, Jefferson Tyree sat with his back to the wall, playing a game of solitaire. When Sheriff Mullins came into the saloon, Tyree paid him no attention. Mullins had come in several times over the last few days and had not spoken to him. Tyree didn’t know if Mullins had not spoken to him because he didn’t know who he was, or because he was afraid of him. It seemed very unlikely that Mullins didn’t know who he was. The state had been plastered with dodgers on Tyree ever since he escaped prison.

Tyree started to go back to his card game; then he noticed something that caught his attention, something different.

Sheriff Mullins was carrying a shotgun. That made Tyree suspicious enough, but when he saw who had come in with the sheriff, he knew that something was up. The man with Mullins was Darrel Crawford. Crawford had been chief of prison guards when Tyree was a convict at the State Prison in Cañon City.

Tyree knew this was no coincidence.

“Well, now, if it isn’t Darrel Crawford,” Tyree said. “What brings you to a jerkwater town like La Junta? Are you here on a little friendly visit?”

“Nothing about my visit is friendly,” Crawford replied.

Tyree chuckled. “Let me guess. You are upset about the little fracas I had with Kyle Pollard back in the prison, aren’t you?”

“It was more than a fracas. You killed him.”

“Yes, well, that’s just the way it worked out,” Tyree said. “I wanted to leave, you see, and he didn’t want me to. Killing him seemed the best way of settling our disagreement.”

“Kyle Pollard left behind a child and a pregnant wife, did you know that? He was a good man,” Crawford said.

“He couldn’t have been that good of a man. I mean, what kind of man would take a dangerous job like prison guard when he has a family at home?” Tyree asked.

“You son of a bitch,” Mullins said. “You don’t have the slightest degree of contrition, do you?”

“Contrition?” Tyree replied. He laughed. “Ain’t that somethin’ you’re supposed to get by goin’ to church?”

“Enough talk, Tyree,” Crawford said. “I’m taking you back to prison.”

“Really? Well, now, how are you going to do that? I heard that you lost your job. The prison fired you for letting me escape. This is true, ain’t it?”

“It’s none of your concern whether that’s true or not,” Crawford said. “It has no bearing on what is right and what is wrong.”

Tyree laughed. “I’ll be damned,” he said. “It is true, isn’t it? But that leaves you with a little problem, Crawford. If you don’t have a job, you don’t have the authority to take me back. That’s right, ain’t it, Sheriff?”

“Normally, he would not have the authority,” Mullins agreed. “But we have it worked out. I’ve appointed Mr. Crawford as my deputy.”

Tyree clapped his hands gently. “Well, now, ain’t that somethin’? I mean, our man Crawford here, goin’ from bein’ chief of guards in a state prison to being a deputy in some mud-hole place like this? My, how the mighty have fallen. Tell me, Crawford, does that make you real proud?”

“I told you, whatever my position is doesn’t concern you,” Crawford said. “You’re going back to prison with me. And this time, you’ll hang.”

“You think you’ll get your job back if you take me in?”

“I don’t care whether I get that job back or not,” Crawford replied. “It’s not about the job anymore. It’s about honor.”

“Honor?” Tyree laughed out loud.

“Yes, honor,” Crawford said. “I know honor is a difficult concept for you to understand, but you will understand this.” Suddenly, and inexplicably, Crawford smiled. “What I really want, even more than honor, is the privilege of watching you hang.”

“Really? Well, don’t get your hopes up, Crawford, because I can tell you right now that you ain’t goin’ to live long enough to see that,” Tyree said.