' A Card Game: A Tale of Red Neck, Arizona'

By Phineas Redux

Contact: Phineas_Redux@yahoo.com

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Preface:— The following account is purely a fantasy; so the fact that the historical persons described may well have been elsewhere doing other things as this story unfolds has no bearing on the present tale.

Summary:— Henrietta ‘Harry' Knappe and Calamity Jane save Wild Bill Hickock's life; then immediately get on his wrong side.

Note:— This tale is written in the style of the ‘ Wolfville ' stories by Alfred Henry Lewis.

Copyright:— All characters are copyright © 2015 to the author, and are wholly fictitious representations.

 

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“Thank you, ma'am.” Old Charlie Anderson sat in a cane chair on the verandah of the old house and smiled at the young lady who was going round performing that general act of compassion known as refilling the guest's glasses. “On a warm day like t'day a glass of iced lime juice is just the thing.”

There was quite a crowd sitting on chairs or around tables along the length of the covered verandah. Major Carson reigned at the far end, with his wife and daughter; while on the right-hand the old-timer held sway with his recollections.

“You was askin', Miss, what the boys an' gals amused themsef's with, back in the old days.” He sat back and mused on the question for a short while, then opened his steely light blue eyes and regarded his audience knowingly. “Well, y'might be astonished t'learn there were a whole passel o'activeetees available. First off was, o'course, halloo-in' through the main Street on hoss-back, a shootin'-off your six-gun indiscriminate—allus a popular hobby, if'n y'never minded spendin' the next week in the cooler!”

Ha-ha , Mr Anderson.” A lady of some spirit spoke up with a tinkling laugh. “Was there a great deal of such, er , carrying's-on in those days?”

Hmm , like most sports there was a clear-cut season for such.” Charlie nodded in remembrance. “Way along t'wards September-October, when the cowboys brought their herds o'cattle through, there was usual a mighty outbreak o'such gallivantin' an' gen'ral high spirits. But when Wild Bill arrived t'take over the reins o'honesty an' respectabilty in the town Red Neck suddenly came over all quiet an' some peaceful as a consequence.”

“How'd he manage that?” The same lady frowned. “Just by himself, y'mean?”

“Well, the first time the cowboys attempted t'harass the quietude o'the town thataways one September mornin', about two months after Hickok'd arrived, one well-known high-playin' galoot called Hightop Kelly came rampagin' along the sidewalk on his hoss, allowin' in a loud voice that pedestrians could either jump in the dirt o'the street out'ta his way, or take their chances with his hoss. Hickok, on the other hand, had other idee's.”

“What happened?” The lady, as were the rest of his listeners, was now enthralled by the quiet voice echoing the romantic past. “Did he—?”

“Hickok showed up on the sidewalk, some-ways ahead o'said miscreant, an' bellowed loud an' sharp for him t'cease an' desist; Hickok havin' some idee o'fair play, thataway.” The old raconteur nodded as the memory of the event focussed more clearly in his mind. “Hightop was, however, one o'those dead-set galoots who, once thay'd got an idea—such as the present one o'rampagin' indiscriminate along the sidewalk on his hoss—were some unlikely t'change they're plans at the mere friendly request o'the local Sheriff.”

“This sounds as if it's gon'na end badly.” A well-dressed youth in a violently checked suit shook his well-pomaded head.

“Sure'nuff Hightop took umbrage at his light-hearted attempts to brighten up the tone o'the town bein' looked on with disdain, an' commenced t'aimin' at his complainant with his six-shooters.” Anderson pursed his lips and sighed regretfully. “Which, o'course, was the mighty wrongest thing he could'a done; an', at the same time, was just what Hickok was a'ready fer. As Hightop's bullets whistled past on both sides—Kelly bein' a dreadful shot at the best o'times, when sober that is—Hickok took no bit o'notice but, some casual, drawed both his Smith an' Wesson .45's an' proceeded t'layin' down a cannon barrage on his opponent which appeared likely t'send him t'Heaven post-haste.”

“Good Grief! How'd it end?” The lady, again, was aquiver with excitement.

“Summat otherwise than y'might'a bin expectin'.” Charlie raised his eyes to regard his avid audience. “Y'got'ta realise that Hickok himsef was by no means the best shot in the world. Oh, he could drop a man at thirty paces, out in the street; but in these here special circumstances he was somewhat hog-tied by the narrow shadowy sidewalk, an' the other citizens milling about in a frenzy tryin' t'second guess where next Hightop was a'goin' t'head his wild hoss. Suffice t'say Hickok emptied both guns at forty paces, an' missed entire.”

“What?” The youth banged his glass on the small table by his elbow. “Surely not?”

“Sech things are sent t'try the best o'us, sonny.” Charlie smiled at his interlocuter. “There was a sort'a a tranquil silence, or pause in proceedin's, at this dramatic pint. Hickok'd shot his bolt, an' was a'standin' wonderin' whether he had time t'reload before Kelly sent him t'Hell; an' Hightop his'sef, sat astride his halted steed right outside the spring-doors o'the ‘ Yellow Dog ' saloon, could hardly believe his fortune in survivin' said cannonade. However, havin' duly expressed his contempt o'Justice an' Law an' Order with his six-guns, the reprobate now turned t'serious business. “Hickok,” he shouts, mighty sarcastic, “Yore days o'wine an' roses is up complete. Prepare t'die.” With this he drags out'ta his side saddle-holster the mightiest bear-gun ever seen in Western Arizona. The dam' thing was summat similar t'a small naval cannon, an' looked capable o'blowin' Hickok clean in two—allus supposin' Kelly was clear-headed enuff to hit his mark.”

“Oh Goodness.” The lady was at the end of her tether with the horror of the moment.

“Even Hickok'd given up, an' prepared t'meet his end like a gentleman, a'standin' square an' tall like as if he was on a Sunday School trip an' nuthin' wus wrong, facin' his enemy the while.” Anderson scratched his chin, as the scene reflected itself in memory. “Kelly hauled his piece horizontal to his shoulder an' aimed precise an' slow. Then came the loudest explosion anyone in Red Neck had ever heard—”

Oh God ; — but Hickok didn't die that way.” The lady was non-plussed. “What happened?”

“Kelly was took in his left side by a huge burst o'dust an', er , bits an' pieces.” Charlie raised his eyebrows as he spoke. “The blast of another big rifle had hit him unawares. His whole left side splashed dust like a Summer sand-storm; his right side—well, it exploded too, out into the street; takin' most o'his insides with it. It was red, it was messy, it was horrible, it was the end o'Hightop Kelly. What was left o'him sat on the stupified hoss a'while, then casooly slipped sideways an' hit the sidewalk with a wet smack an' splash. An' out'ta the swingin' doors o'the ‘ Yellow Dog ' comes a'saunterin', slow an' easy, Henrietta ‘ Harry ' Knappe, totin' her own answer t'the naval firepower o'the nation—a Henry .44 rifle, guaranteed t'knock a grizzly over at three hundred yards.”

“Bill!,” She called, no-way put out by events. “Y'really got'ta start practicin' more with those toy's o'yourn. When y'started blastin' there, me an' Calam here were some put out fer the innocent citizens o'Wolfville, an' it's twenty miles East o'us.”

“Y'OK, Bill?” This from the somewhat shorter, but sparky, young woman who now joined Harry on the blood-spattered sidewalk—Calamity Jane in person. “ God , what a mess. Y'sure were right, Harry, when y'told me y'were gon'na blast Hightop into Eternity, express—y'sure enough did that. Jeez!

“Kelly's hoss, meanwhile, had ambled, some unconcerned at the deemise of his master, into the centre of the street—where he quietly spectated at the ongoin' drama.” Charlie nodded wisely, as the retrospective panorama flickered across his memory. “Hickock, Harry an' Calam grouped themseff's to one side, tryin' not to get their boots messed up by the, er , remnants o'the deceased.”

“What in Hell did ya load that there bear-gun o'yourn with, Harry?” Hickock was mighty pleased t'still be in a position t'ask sech question's, an' took this way o'praisin' his deliverer.

“I bought a new box o'soft nosed .44's over t'Tucson a week ago, Bill.” Harry was pleased as punch at her successful shot. “First I've tried ‘em; seem t'work just fine. Bit of a mess, mind you—wouldn't like a bear t'end up in that there condition, out in the wild. Give me an' Calam the devil of a job skinnin' the animaal afterwards.”

“Well, fer all his ornariness that there Kelly was sumthin' o'a runt, all the same.” Hickock was none too forgivin' t'wards the reason of his late danger, an' sniffed some contemptuous at the widening pool o'blood on the sidewalk an' the objec' responsible. “Dam' near cut the fella in half right enough. Doc Peterson's gon'na have some trouble with the remains, thet's fer sure.”

“If'n it's all over, bar the cleanin' up, I think Harry an' I'll head back t'our game.” Calam gave the tall dark-haired woman by her side a warm glance. “Harry thinks she's got a straight flush an' I only have two's, but I know better.”

“So the leddies turned back into the dim recesses of the ‘ Yellow Dog ' t'finish their poker game, while Hickock did the necessaries with the late an' dam' well unlamented Hightop Kelly.”

“That was nasty, for sure, Mr Anderson.” The lady mused on the story for a while. “Seems they'all took a rather more relaxed attitude towards mortality in them days.”

“True enuff, ma'am.” Charlie nodded, taking another sip of his iced lime juice. “But them was the ways people were accustomed to; live hard, in a hard land, an' die hard, if necessary, the same way. Changed times from today, ma'am; changed times, indeed.”

“So, are you sayin' the ladies—Harry Knappe an' Calam—just moseyed back t'their saloon table,” The young man pursed his lips a little censoriously. “an' sat back down t'a game o'cards like as if nuthin' had interrupted their mornin'?”

“Just that, sonny, just that.” Charlie shrugged, undismayed. “Y'took these things as they occurred, an' then went back t'work. It weren't no big thing.”

“So what happened then?” The lady was still interested in the actions of the two women of long ago. “They just played out their card game an' went home t'lunch, or what? Good Gracious, I couldn't be like that.”

“Well, thereby hangs a tale.” Anderson furrowed his brows as he twirled his cool glass with the fingers of his left hand. “Y'might all be thinkin' my tale's done, an' the story's over; but nuthin' could be wronger. The story was only jest beginnin'.”

“Tell us.” The pomaded young gentleman grinned at the old man. “You have us in the palm of your hand, sir, and we're agog t'know how it all panned out.”

“Well, lem'me see.” Charlie, knowing his audience well, took his time but finally came to the point. “Harry an' Calam were indeed playin' a game o'poker in the ‘ Yellow Dog ', but their partners were two men o'unsalubrioius character an' low esteem. One was tall heavy and dark-skinned from bein' out in the sun a lot. The other had the looks and personality of a rattler; thin, nervous, given t'suspicion of everbody's actions, however innocent said may have been; an' gen'rally a mean specimen altogether. The first was ‘ Black ' Andrew Hopkins, who might or might not have had a long career of bushwhackin' folks unawares out in the desert. The other was Reggie ‘ Snakelips ' Loughton, whose method o'makin' a monthly salary took in ridin' out o'nights t'round up other people's cattle; though he'd never yet been actuul caught on the job, as it were.”

“What were Harry and Calam playin' cards with characters like that for?” The lady was intrigued by this mystery. “Miss Templeton, Mr Anderson needs his glass refilled, I fancy.”

“Wa'al,” Charlie took his time over his renewed drink, musing on the lay-out of his story. “What it was all about went thisaways; some three weeks previous, just after the leddies had come inta Red Neck from the mountains loaded down with bear-skins, Hickock took them aside one evenin' an' interposed the Law's necesseties inta their schedule. Put short, he wanted them t'get into the good offices o'said reprobates an' thereby sieve through their schedules fer future activitees an' as a result thereof allow him ‘ta nail ‘em both t'the Courthouse door.”

“Sounds a fine plan; did it work?” A tall well-set up man with grey hair and a look of authority spoke from a table nearby.

“Yep, Judge, just fine.” Charlie nodded his assent. “Both rogues were wholly overcome by the supposed bad reputations of the ladies in question. Nobody could fairly gainsay, at that period, that Calamity had any but an ill-standing in the broodin' an' mighty censorious eyes o'local society. Sure, she'd took umbrage, maybe some superfloos, at various characters who'd tried their luck one way or another with her—she havin' a short an' mighty violent temper, not given t'quiet contemplation an' the forgivin' o'sinnin' individools. An' Harry, likewise, had pretty much put the back's up o'polite society by her short way with dissenters of her views o'Life in gen'ral—she bein' a bear-hunter by trade, an' not likely t'hold back t'discuss the moral natur' o'Life when a .44 bullet'd do as well.”

“Were they both really outlaws?” The irrepressible lady took up this point with a worried frown, not wanting her heroines to turn into persons with feet of clay.

“Not t'say outright beyond the Law, no.” Anderson scratched his chin while considering the question. “They'd each come mighty close, on occasion; but had never yet—up t'date o'the present tale—actilly gone that step too far—though Hickock found hisself pretty worried at times, an' often in what I believe is termed a conundrum about the activeetees o'said female duo.”

“Thank Goodness for that.” The lady sat back relieved, and took a strong pull at her glass of red wine.

“So there they all were, now the drama o'the demise of Hightop Kelly had died down summat.” Charlie resumed his tale of the history of the renowned Arizona desert township of the past. “This bein' the first time either man, Black Andrew or Snakelips, had experienced the professional capabilities o'the leddies at close range, they were still stuck to their chairs at the round saloon table when the gals returned, as if glued there—fear an' shock havin' sech an effect sometimes. Harry an' Calam sat on opposite sides o'same table, with the deadbeats a'tween them, an' commenced to pickin' up their kyards where they'd both left off in order t'exact justice on Hightop.”

“Cool customers, those gals.” The Judge smiled quietly at the womens' actions.

“They both knew mighty well what was expec'et o'them.” Anderson placed his glass carefully on the table well within reach and carried on. “An' both was operatin' to a careful worked out plan o'their own.”

Jumpin' Jiminy. ” This from Black Andrew—but hereaways I ought'ta tell y'all that I'm bein' some restrain'd with their ensuin' langwidge, ladies; what he actil said was somethin' not fit fer polite ears, even nowadays. “Did y'have to blow the ol' bast—son-uv-a-gun, clean offen his hoss like that, in pieces? Josephine, what a mess!

“He had it comin'.” Calam speaks up short an' snappy; havin' more important matters on hand, an' scrutinisin' her hand o'kyards some thoughtful. “Call. You in, or y'out?”

“Black Andrew an' Snakelips, fer all their repeetashun, were the world's awfullest card-players y'ever saw.” Charlie laughed at the remembrance. “Harry an' Calam had taken some pains to get ‘em both in a position where they was, unusual fer them, actually winnin'. So the boys, some dazed at their good fortune, was wholly unaware of the leddies maneouvrings thetaways—the thought of an easy twenty bucks over-riding all their doubts.”

“I up's the ante t'thirty, an' calls yer bluff, missy.” Andrew accompanied this with a tight-lipped sneer; his usual expresssion when in conversation.

“Some relieved Calam dumps her kyards on the table face up an' adopts a look o'disappinted endeevor, which ordinary wouldn't have fooled a three-year old but took those two rogues in entire.”

“Y'got me, I'm out.”

“But I'm still in,” Harry leans forward, with a wide grin of her own, tryin' t'instil some doubt inta Andrew's machinations. She makin' a double-bluff, y'might say; havin' every hope the bearded low-life was actil gon'na win the hand—an' not before time, the gals was both thinkin' t'themseff's by this pint. “I meets yer offer an' adds this here ten. What about it?”

“Black Andrew, not often bein' in the position o'teeterin' on the edge o'winnin' a kyard game outright, sat back here an' considered his options, his position, an' the likely results o'his next move.” Charlie took time out to regard the individual faces of his enthralled audience. Satisfied with the effect his words had produced so far, he continued. “Final, he took his courage in both o'his dirty hands an' laid out his kyards across the stained chipped wood.”

“How's that, leddies?” Andrew laughed as he contemplated his effort.

“This turned out t'be nuthin more'n a straight, eight's high.” Charlie curled a lip in disdain as he spoke. “Pretty poor showin', but as the leddies, by sheer hard work, an' a touch o'sleight o'hand earlier in the game by Calam, had managed t'give themseff's worthless hands, Harry folded instanter too, kyards up, so's the reprobates could see how entire they'd wiped the opposition off'n the table.”

Har! I knowed it. I jest knowed it.” Andrew crowed like a cock in the mornin', so pleased was he at winnin'.

“The pot turned out t'be somewhere's aroun' fifty dollars, all told; so he was sure'nuff pleased as Punch.” Charlie nodded knowingly at the low mentality of the criminal classes of those far-off days. “This success also triggered the first move in his'n an' Snakelips' final downfall. They'd been intimatin' over the last few days as they played kyards, kind'a casual an' merely hintin' rather than outright comin' t'the hard kernel o'things, that the two women,—if'n they were in fer some excitement an a reas'nable profit at the end,—might wan'na think about a little expedition Black Andrew an' Snakelips were a'plannin'. So now, rakin' in the greasy dollar notes enthusiastically inta a pile in front o'his shirt buttons—them few as was still attached t'what passed fer his shirt—Andrew now felt fired up enuff t'continue the discussion; but on a more clear an' precise basis.”

“Say, leddies,” He glowered at the women from under the brim o'his disreputable wide-brimmed hat. “What about this h'yar concep' o'business me an' Snakelips has in the offing? Wan'na add yer mite t'the action, or not?”

“Harry an' Calam glanced short at each other hereabouts, finally seein' their hard-thought-out plans comin' t'fruition; then Harry spoke up.”

“Waal, seein' as y've jest cleaned me out entire, Blackie, I figure a short way o'earnin' a dollar or two won't go astray—I'm in, an' I can speak fer my partner here, too. Cain't I, Calam?”

“Certin.” Says Calamity, shruggin' her shoulders inside her deerskin jacket, an' appearin' summat unhappy the while. “Actin' as a huntin' guide round these parts, ain't got stayin' power at all, lem'me tell ya. An' the last time I went out in the hills prospectin', with ol' Bertram Morgan, all we found was a passel o'fool's gold. I'm in. Say, there ain't anybody here but us'n, at the moment; how's about goin' over the details agin, jest so's I kin get it all clear in my head.”

“Black Andrew gave a studied an' slow glance across the dirty floor o'the ‘ Yellow Dog ', but seein' Calam was right enuff in their bein' the sole customers at that there pint, he sat back an' looked across at Snakelips, givin' him the nod t'open proceedin's.

Now Snakelips was a man o'few words, leddies an' gents, not accustomed t'public speakin'—as y'may well have noticed durin' the present tale; so's y'all might hav'ta allow his unformed manners some leeway in his reply.

Waal, first-off he glanced aroun' fer the nearest spitoon, a coupl'a yards off; aimed precise an' straight; an' hit his target full-on, like a professional. Havin' accomplished this difficult feat he sat back, some refreshed, an' started talkin' in the curious light tenor he was famous fer.”

“It's like this, leddies, Andrew an' I have, over the last few months, been keepin' a watchful eye open aroun' the gen'ral locale o'this here thrivin' city.” Sez he, mighty sarcastic. “An' the overall determination we've come to is that there's some fine lays awaitin' t'be cracked, by those who've got ginger enuff t'do it.”

“Where, fer instance?” Calam raised a questinin' eyebrow, hopin' fer more precise details; which were forthcomin' in no small way.

“Fer one, Mrs David Manton, over t'the edge o'town.” Snakelips smiled at this, though his expression was closer t'a cold sneer; him not havin' much practice in easy-going camaraderie thetaways. “She's a widder, o'long standin'; owns the dry-goods store on Main St.; an' is recognised, across the board, as bein' the richest person in this part o'Arizonny. An' between us, usin' some deep guile an', I got'ta admit, low-cunnin', we've discovered the position an' make o'her house-safe; wherein she's well-known t'keep the riches o'the Indies an' Midas complete—not ter mention thet other fella, who's name escapes me at the present time.”

“Croesus?” Harry names the guy, somewhat hesitant.

“Thet's him. Rolled in gold, when he was alive, so's I've heerd—lucky bast—gentleman!”

“Wha'd'ya say ter that, leddies?” Andrew butts in here with a broad grin, pleased as apple-pie with his plan.

“”So, what yer sayin' is,” Harry shifts on her chair, some uncomfortable at these unfoldin' events. “yer gon'na barge in her house, in broad daylight; apprehend her; knock over her safe an' take her life savin's t'yerseff's; then breeze out casuul-like an' make yer getaway t'pastures new; them not bein' located in Arizonny nowhere's?”

“Thet there's the gist, right enough.” Snakelips frowns some dark, perceivin' a tone o'not-happininess in his female listeners. “So, what's up—ain't it a great plan, or what?”

“What about Mrs Manton?” Calam here brings the main point to the surface, t'be contemplated by the quartet.

“Oh, she don't count none.” Snakelips offers a leer o'disinterest at this minor pint. “One o'us bangs her on the head when she opens the door t'us. We drag her inside, do our business, an' makes our getaway. We doesn't need'ta worry about bein' recognised, seein' as we intends a snappy exit, unhindered by searchin' out ol' friends t'say goodbye to along the way. Maybe tie the ol' b---h up with washin' rope, or summat; or bang her on the head agin' some hearty, jest t'make sure o'things, eh? It don't matter; with luck we'll be halfway across the desert before the thing's found out.”

“Waal,” Harry breaks a short silence, after her and Calam had eyed each other across the table, tryin' t'look as if they was comin' t'a mutual decision through glances alone. “Reckon, if the swag's as much as y'say, we're in fer the ride. Even splits, obviously?”

“Oh yeah, even's all round.” Snakelips opened his mouth t'give what he fondly believed t'be an honest grin—but was much more clearly a snide an' unwholesum sneer, layered deep with foul intentions.

“Not a whit taken-in by these blandishments the gals took their chance and nodded at each other, playin' up t'their audience like Henry Irving on a good night.”

“Right then, when's the thing t'be?” Calam shuffles aroun' in her deerskins, summat nervously—she bein' as good an actor as her partner. “Give us the details, an' times. We wan'na be clear about all this.”

“OK, first of all—”

Anderson paused here, to refresh his throat from the glass at his elbow, allowing a quiet susuration to pass through the assembled audience, now wholly caught up in the drama of his tale. Then, refreshed and ready for the fray once more, the old man returned to his story of long ago.

“There wasn't, o'course, no way the gals was gon'na allow this here perfidious plan t'reach its immoral conclusion.” Charlie shook his crop of white hair vigorously, in strict opposition to such an outcome. “No, what the leddies meant t'do, immediate they were free o'the presence o'their male admirers, was t'hobble Hickock in his den—the Marshall's Office—an' there lay plain the whole treacherous plotting o'the bandits in questin.

So, some half an hour later; when Black Andrew an' Snakelips had explained the details o'their proposition, an' got the leddies supposed approval an' both then had sloped-off t'wherever it was they usual laid they're less than perfumed carcasses when not in the public eye, Harry an' Calam—keepin' a mighty sharp eye out that the deadbeats had actil gone off about their private purposes—made a bee-line fer the Marshall's Office, where they found said officer o'the Law waitin' as nervous as a turkey on the third o'July.

Meanwhile, by way o'passin' the time an' easin' his anxiety, Hickock was practicin' his command o'three langwidges, English, American, an' French, an' two dialects o'the Indian Nation, Paiute an' Apache; usin', o'course, all those fresh an' vigorous cuss words in which those langwidges abounds. Harry an' Calam fetched up jest inside the open door o'the office an', took mighty impressed with Hickock's expertise, allowed they'd stand fer a while an' drink in the torrent o'swearin' that was echoin' around the high-ceilinged room. Hickock, absorbed in his work, took some minute or so before he suddenly realised he was extemporisin' t'an appreciative an' grinnin' audience.”

“Hell an' bugg—damnation!” Sez he, some irked an' embarassed, takin' his boots offen the desk an' attemptin' t'rescue some dignity from the sityatin'. “What fer didn't y'knock afore y'blundered in, like a heerd o'buffallo.”

“We was too impressed, Bill.” Calamity sings out, happy as a lark as both women walk'd in an' made theirseff's comfortable on the only other chairs available. “That was mighty fine; why, I ain't ever heerd half o'what y'wus comin' out with there, Bill. Say, y'got any writin' paper an' a quill handy; I don't wan'na ferget the juicier one's, afore I go.”

“Y'can go any dam' time y'like, leddy.” Speaks up the Marshall, some miffed with the whole performance. “An' I can pretty exactly tell y'just where yer destination out'ta be, too!”

Ha! I mean, calm down, fer God's sake.” Harry could hardly talk fer laughin' herself, but makes a brave try, in order t'defend her partner. “Anyways, we come bearin' gifts, Marshall; wan'na hear?”

“Not much, no.” Bill shrugs his wide shoulders an' ruffles his long hair, still some put-out by his unintended public performance. “But, bein' members o'the female sex, I takes it pretty much as said yer gon'na haul-off an' tell me anyway. Go on, if'n y'wan'na relieve yerself's o'whatever's on yer minds—an' as I fer one can't think offhand o'anythin' at all that could be o'any serious purpose, why, don't let me—as duly voted-in Marshall o'this here county—stop y'at all.”

“There followed,” Charlie laughed quietly to himself, with a small smile. “A short pause, wherein Hickock saw the puzzled expressions flickerin' over the women's faces, an' came t'the correct conclusion.”

“That there diatribe o'mine means—yeah, go ahead, an' give me a headache with whatever news y'got to impart. Merely hopin' it's some officious, an' not jest town gossip.”

“Oh, right.” Calam's first t'grasp the lay o'things an' nods her head knowingly—which, o'course, all present knew was jest bluff an' bravado, Calam bein' well-known fer bein' thetaway constitooted. “Waal, it's this here way, Bill—”

“An' then she an' Harry lays out the whole obnoxus plan o'Andrew an' Snakelips, in all its gory detail.” Anderson glanced round his enthralled audience and, seeing them wholly under the spell of his words, carried on. “Hickock, bein' a sharp-set character when needs be, took it all in like a school-ma'am listenin' t'her class's lesson recital. Then he up's an' nods, like an' old barn owl, pretty pleased his decision t'lassoo the gals inta lendin' a hand fer the good o'the town had paid-off so well.

It weren't but a couple o'hours afterwards that he an' Harry an' Calam had figur'd out what Calam called a counter-ploy—though both Harry an' Hickock looked mighty dubious at this here word that'd not till then crossed either o'their paths. But, both knowin' full well the downside t'criticisin' any o'Calam's pes'nal, an' allus strongly defended, opinions they allows t'stay mute on the subjec'.”

Here the old-time raconteur paused for refreshment, taking his time over the cool glass. Finally, when he felt invigorated once more, he carefully replaced the precious receptacle by his elbow and glanced round at the eager listeners attending to his every move.

“The time an' place now shifts some, as these here modern writers are apt t'explain in their stories in the monthly magazines.” Charlie nodded sagely to himself, then gave a shrug and fell to his own tale again. “So we find the scene set aroun' the north edge o'town, later on in the evenin'; right where the Main Street sort'a peters out miserably into scrub an' sagebrush an' the like; followed o'course, immediate, by the dry desert away t'the hills on the horizon. Jest here lies the best house in Red Neck—the best built, that is, having been wholly designed by some flashy dude away t'Tucson, maybe ten year previous, an' staggerin' an awesome four storeys, not countin' the attics, in'ta the heavens. An' in this Palace o'all the Arts, an' some o'the Sciences, resided—as we've already been told by Snakelips hisself—Mrs David Manton, relict of said character; who was gen'rally allowed, when live an' kickin', t'have bin the ornariest dude at separatin' honest folks from their money—on a wholly legal level, mind—or, at least, as legal as anythin' ever was in ol' Arizonny at thet time. Anyways, he made his pile after a few years, leavin' whole families an' communitee's destitute fer miles aroun'; the while pilin' up the bullion in the Red Neck General State Bank t'such an extent the manager had t'send t'Phoenix, t'his boss, t'request a second vault, with all the necessary trimmin's. Mr Manton built his House; swanned aroun' the township, showin'-off somethin' awful; then, one ill-fated day, faced up t'a bunch o'revellin' cow-punchers meanderin' along the sidewalk one morning, durin' which confrontation he told ‘em mighty sharp he'd give ‘em five minutes t'vacate the whole neighbourhood o'Red Neck entire, or he'd know the reason why; then fumbled in his breast pocket, meanin' t'take out his famed solid gold half-hunter t'make his threat manifest. The highly refreshed, an' some irate, cattlemen in course took this threatenin' action at face value, an' wholesale pulled out their own hardware an' proceeded t'make of their derogator a pin-cushion, usin' .45 bullets. Well, suffice t'say when Doc Peterson had finished clarifyin' the cause o'death later that day he was able t'make the glad news public that the dam'd ol' reprobat—er, I mean, revered an' honoured gentleman o'the communitee, had managed t'collec' no less than twenty-seven individool bullets. A fine record, Doc said, not likely t'be broken in their lifetime.

An' the townsfolk were mighty pleased also, readin' the next day in the local paper o'this mighty honour t'the town.” Charlie glanced at his audience, a gentle glitter of amusement in his blue eyes. “The cowmen, o'course, got off scot-free; it bein' an open an shut case o'self-defence. So Mrs Manton was left in peace t'enjoy the just desserts of Love an' a mighty fine balance at the Bank. An' so we come to the evenin' now under discussion.

Lem'me see, yeah, it went thisaways—Black Andrew, Snakelips, Harry an' Calam were all strollin' along a nearby side street, casool-like, as if out fer an evenin' consitootinal afore the serious business o'the evenin's faro game at the ‘ Yellow Dog '. Unbeknownst t'the evil duo meanwhile, Hickock an' two deputies had made themseff's more'n comf'table inside the Palace—havin' sent the legal occupier, under close guard an' secrecy, t'the neighbourin' township o'Thompson's Gulch. Hickock had positioned his'seff right inside the front door, in the huge entrance hall o'the oversized edifice. He'd bin there near on an hour a'ready, awaitin' events; his .45's oiled, loaded, cocked, an' ready fer action. Meanwhile, t'ease his growin' boredom, he'd taken t'examinin' the available art on show in the hall—an' a joyful an' astonishin' amount o'rubbi— er , art, there was , littered every-dam-where. Manton, in life, had bin somethin' o'a indiscrim'nate squirrel as far as what might be call'd at a pinch, any kind'a Art. Which o'course, meant he'd buy pretty much anythin' a well edicated an' experienced grafter thought fit t'unload on the ol' idiot.

So there Hickock was, alone with his internal thoughts—which, it must be admitted frank an' straight-up, never amounted t'much at the best o'times; an' the only ease or refreshment available was said extensive Art-works, laid miscellaneous jest about everywhere y'were minded t'let yer eyes rest, or a incautious foot bump.

An', jest before the fireworks erupted, his attention had bin caught by a painting hangin' on the opposite wall. This here work o'Art, fer such it must be allowed t'be, was a oil painting, some four feet wide an' two, maybe three, feet high representin', so the brass plate on the lower frame said, a haystack in the sunshine, an' had bin perpetrated by some French guy goin' by the curious moniker o'Monet.

Well, Hickock had bin examinin' this appallin' daub fer some ten minutes, tryin' his best t'make out where the field stopped an' said haystack began; or, contrary, where the blue sky stopped an' the haystack began. But all efforts o'his imagination were unsuccessfull, the subjec' o'said paintin' eludin' his every effort; he could not make out the dam' thing; no, not fer Love nor money.

Jesuus! ” He remarked t'a passin' depity, on his way t'search fer the Palace bog-hous— er , chamber o'easement, him bein' took short as a result o'four bottles o'beer, took quick on the move, havin' bin too much fer his stomach t'cope with as his evenin' meal.

“Archibald,” Hickock ejaculates, some baffled by said pic'ter. “What the Hell kind'a a illustration d'y take this here appallin' smear t'be. I'm interest'd in yer opinion, as a man o'the world; is it a haystack, as per reference on label, or a mere fraud an' disgrace t'humanity—the which is pretty much my opinion sechways.”

“But before the hard-pressed depity could make his excuses, an' head on off t'where he really wanted t'be, there came a loud knockin' at the front door at the end o'the hall.” The old man lifted a heavy eyebrow, took stock of the intense notice the whole group of listeners were giving his every word, and continued, much pleased. “Hickock, allus a man livin' on a knife-edge—his nerves havin' been shot t'Hell long ago, took no opportun'ty t'quietly step forward, open the door, and request sales-persons t'kindly use the kitchen-door; or, in the present case, grab the awaited miscreants by their collars an' march ‘em off t'the hoosegow with nary a pause. No, what Hickock, an' it has t'be said, his distressed depity also, did was t'haul out their combined firepower—totallin' two .45's, a .38, an' a ‘nonymus weapon prob'ly of .32 caliber (though this mystery weapon, never identified, took little part in the ensuin' battle, jammin' in the depity's hand after the second bullet). The next instant the front door, made of Californian oak an' three inches thick, exploded in a mass o'splinters, as the bullets tore it t'pieces.”

Oh , what happened to Calam, an' Harry?” This from the interested lady, on her second glass of red wine. “I do so hope they were not injured.”

“Put your mind at rest on that there topic, ma'am.” Charlie nodded understandingly. “Both women had taken the wise precaution o'lettin' the onlie begetters o'said ambush or bushwhackin', as your taste allows, take centre stage for the first-night openin'. In other words, Harry an' Calam hung back some, lettin' Snakelips attend t'makin' himself known t'the inmates o'the house, with Black Andrew some few yards in his rear. When the response t'his genteel knockin' took shape in the destruction o'said door, Snakelips—showin' a capability fer immediate athleticism hereunto unsuspected by his closest friends, dived t'one side inta a stand of thick bushes, the passin' bullets missin' him entire. Andrew, no less surprised, merely fell t'the ground an' scampered onto what passed fer the front lawn, like a rabbit seekin' its hole. Harry an' Calam also dived aside like good ‘uns, drawin' their hardware the while, ready t'back up Hickock's some extemporan'us move when required.”

The occupants of the entire verandah were by this time in thrall to the magic spell of the story-teller's silver tongue. Not a sound was heard for yards around, no-one moved, or even coughed, as the stirring tale unfolded. Every eye, and all ears, were focussed on the source of the dramatic monologue; and even many glasses went unfilled as their owners attention fell elsewhere.

“An' here-in is where the careful laid out plan o' Calam, Harry, an' Hickock began t'go off the rails.” Charlie shook his head mournfully, at the recollection. “Havin' fallen sideways, Calam lost contac' with her .45; which bounced out'ta her grip promiscus slidin' across the thin grass like as if it were on a sheet o'ice, well beyond her reach. Harry, on her own account, was also havin' less than success; she bein' more used t'a huge bear gun than a mere pocket Derringer, as she insisted on referin' t'even .45's. From where she lay, in the dirt an' cussin' somethin' awful, she aimed her weapon at Black Andrew, who was in the process of staggerin' t'his feet preliminary t'high-tailin' it, an' pulled the trigger; or, at least, tried t'accomplish said action. But her borrowed weapon, much t'her later chagrin when told, was one o'those old instruments which refuse entire t'fire on half-cock, no matter what entreaties the owner's berate ‘em with. No, y'have to pull the hammer back t'full-cock before y'find yerself in a position t'return an opponent's fire.

While Harry was grovellin' an' spittin' fire an' brimstone over her inactive weapon, Calam was divin' across the grass in hot pursuit of her own pistol. Havin' regained it she rolled around in one fluid movement, only to find that both Andrew and Snakelips had disappeared complete from the scene.

“Where the Hell are they?” Calam emits this cry o'woe t'whoever nearby might be in hearin' range.

God damn it! ” Is the height an' length o'Harry's considered response as she staggered t'her feet, wavin' her useless gun about like a flag at a parade. “Why in Hell'd Hickock go an' do that fer?”

“Did ya get the fuc—dammed miserable rats?” The man under discussion takin' this oppertun'ty t'appear through the wreckage o'what had recently been the front door. “Where are they? Oh God , don't tell me y'both let ‘em escape? Y'did, didn't ya? Goddam-it!

Charlie's use of such unrestrained language in the course of presenting his tale was taken more or less lightly by those on the verandah; all being men and women of the world, in the early years of a new young century. All that interested them was the fast approaching climax to the story of long ago.

“Seffice it t'relate Hickock had no choice but t'assemble a posse.” Charlie continued the unfolding odyssey. “An' sech a business wasn't by any means a piece o'pie, ladies an' gents, in those days. Everbody would allus allow they were fer upholdin' Law an' Order when requir'd; but hardly anyone, they not bein' complete fools, allow'd that when the chips were down they wanted to place their heads literally in the line o'fire. Far from bein' the work o'an instant t'form a fully operational posse, it usual took somethin' over a coupl'a hours t'dragoon various wallflowers and hangers-back inta line, an' make ‘em join the ranks o'Law an' Retribution.

In the present case it took Hickock all'a that time, an' some more, t'get together an appropriate number o'sworn depities; includin', against his better judgement, Calam an' Harry. By which time it was as black as Hades outside, an' it was decided there was no useful purpose in trailin' the escaped criminals through the dark night. So we jumps, promiscus, t'the next mornin'.”

During the natural pause in the unfolding drama which here took shape many of the audience used the opportunity to refill their life-saving glasses with whatever revivifying liquid was most to individual tastes; Charlie himself not being, by far, the least anxious and interested in this serious act.

“So, daylight dawns on the next day.” The wily teller of tales had his listeners in the palm of his hand still. “An' what does said light illuminate? As sorry an excuse fer a posse as had ever polluted the landscape of Arizonny, that's what. Most honest denizens—or as near honest as was acceptable, let's be truthful—o'the stately township of Red Neck bein' by natur' genr'lly downright chary o'their persons t'a man, there was some pushin' an' shovin' as to jest who could take the honoured position o'last man in the stragglin' line of Law-upholders. Hickock early took one appall'd glance behind him, then purposely rode forward with nary an eye fer anythin' but what took his notice ahead o'him. The fact Harry an' Calam rode on his left flank not by any means providin' the sense o'safety fer him that might'a bin expected.

Waal, I might hold y'all spellbound with the details o'jest what was the main features of a posse-hunt in ol' Arizonny in the bad ol' days; but, bein' some tender o'your feelin's an' capacities t'haul off an' take the long view, I hereby relents an' allows I'll hand out the short report.

So, we jumps t'a pint some two hours inta their ride across the stony sandy dry desert; they headin', all this time, fer Mulligan's Crossing where there's a stage-point, tradin'-post, an' ferry crossing over the Dry Green River, all heap'd as it were inta one sprawling group o'huts an' outbuildings an' corrals. It bein' here that Harry had informed Hickock the miscreants had purposed t'appoint as their primary choice o'getaway jumpin'-off destination.”

“How did Calam an' Harry fare, on this ride?” The fine lady with the red wine raised a pretty eyebrow. “Just mosey along, takin' Hickock's orders, or what?”

Or what 'd be nearer the mark, ma'am.” Charlie grunted his low deep laugh. “Y'recall, o'course, Calam had some mighty fine experience as a Indian Scout fer the military; afore they woke up t'the state o'affairs an' kicked her out, with curses an' implorings t'never show her face in a Army fort again, anywhere—no, no, ma'am, best leave the details in the dark unknowin'. Where was I? O'course; so Calam had bin pesterin' Hickock with her suppositions on what could be seen along the trail—she bein' mighty intent on showin' her expertise at trailin' a Indian over rough ground t'all an sundry; she, o'course, feelin' that here she had a captive audience, as it were. But Hickock was havin' none o'it. He pretty soon set-to an' told Calam everybody present knew the trail t'Mulligan's Crossin' blindfold, an' would she therefore please put a sock in it?”

A ripple of horror trembled through the massed ranks of listeners, like a summer breeze through an ash grove. Everyone present knowing full well the likely consequences of putting Calamity Jane's back up.

“It wouldn't take a sooth-sayer, or card-reader, t'tell the outcome o'said sity'atin.” Charlie shook his head, eyes bright and filled with humour. “Bein' unable t'blind her orig'nal audience with science, Calam took t'borin' Harry with her well-meant theories o'jest what all the marks along the trail meant. An' it was in this state o'mixed harassment, simmerin' rage, an' a gen'ral an' increasin' realisation among the throng o'citizens ridin' posse that Armageddon was prob'ly jest around the next bend, that they final reached Mulligan's Crossing.

“Look'ee there, Calam.” Sez Harry, mighty relieved t'find they'd arrived an' action was jest a breath or so away. “Yeah, yeah, I'm sure that was a brilliant move y'made, trailin' those Apaches years ago; so, have y'got y'r weapons loaded? An' I've changed that goddam piece o'cr—p I had yesterday fer this here honest t'goodness Smith an' Wesson Model 3 Schofield .45—the same bein' somethin' I actil knows how t'shoot. Ready?”

“As I'll ever be, lady.” Calam looked mean an' ornery, somethin' which came natr'l t'her. “Remember, I shoots at anythin' that moves in my line o'sight; innocent or guilty as sin, no matter which. So watch yer step when everythin' goes off.”

God , (sorry ladies),” Harry cast a questinin' look at her partner o'many trials an' dangers. “I've known y'fer donkey's ages now; an' still I don't really know which side yer on.”

“My own, ma'am, my own.” Responds Calam, quick an' cold as a rattler. “Jest bear that in mind, an' we'll hang t'gether jest fine.”

“Or separately, as the case may be.” Mumbles the renowned bear trapper, not a little put out at what kind'a a partner she had on her hands.

At this pint Dry Green was aroun' two hundred feet wide, but also deep—to a man's shoulders mostly. A rider on horseback could, I suppose, make a try at crossin'; but the likelihood was he or his hoss'd pretty soon be swept off'n their feet and washed away in the current. That bein' why the ferry was located there. But as luck would have it, fer the posse an' Wild Bill, it was one o'those rope-drawn con'sairns; being hauled over by man-power on the rope through pulleys—an' this pertikler day, on their all showin' up, the rope had broke. This, in-course, meant the ferry was sittin' idle by the riverbank, an' no-one in or out'n their minds was crossin' that day. Havin' come up from the dry desert they'all only needed t'negotiate the low crumblin' bank o'the wide arroyo in which the river ran its course. An' waitin' there t'regale ‘em with the latest news, about four hundred yards from the miscellaneous group o'scattered buildings over by the bank, was an employee of the stage-changin' point.

“Dam' glad t'meet y'all.” The chap lowered his left arm, which had till then found employment in wavin' a wide white flag—he obviously not wantin' t'get his own head blowed off by a nervous depity. “I been holed up here fer three hours now, jest a prayin' y'd all have the hoss-sense t'find yer ways here—an' dam' glad I am t'see ye now. They're over yonder.”

A few questions from Bill ascertained the fact that the two miscreants an' outlaws, mighty took aback on findin' their cocksure line o'escape had failed ‘em, had roared out vile an' superfloos cusses against all mankind, an' certain individools in pertikler—then made it known, their only other road t'freedom bein' back the way they came over the desert; an', thereby, straight inta the approaching arms of Bill's posse, that they now purposed t'hole up in the large an' solid-built grain store fer the hosses, over at the edge of the main buildings. Here, Black Andrew told everyone within earshot, they meant t'make a last stand that'd make the Siege o'the Alamo look like a Sunday-School tea-party—if put to it.

As if t'verify the man's words a hail o'gunfire proceeded from said low single-storey building, aimed more nor less in the gen'ral direction o'the assembled posse; none o'the bullets comin' anywhere close, as was only t'be expect'it from two so awful shots as Snakelips an' Black Andrew.

Mighty swiftly the hoss-men rode forrard, interposin' another shed between them an' the source o'their ongoin' danger. An' hereaways Harry an' Calam took it inta their heads they had a plan that'd show-up everyone there with its perspicacity an' gen'ral brilliance. O'course, they had no mind t'actil tell Bill what they intended, but jest set-off, some quiet an' silent, about their own purposes.”

“What was it?” The red wine lady, finding whoever provided her tipple of choice had decided she'd had enough, had instead turned to that staple of saddened virtue, sarsaparilla. “I do so hope they showed Wild Bill how outlaws ought t'be captured.”

Hrrm .” Charlie considered this appeal with all the weight it deserved. “That there, ma'am, depends entire on yer view-pint o'the ensuin' proceedin's. Whether, that is, y'were on Harry an' Calam's side; or Bill's. Howsomever, while everyone was tied up in haulin' their mounts t'safety, an' makin' sure they themseff's weren't took out sharpish by enemy fire the while, the two intrepid women slunk away t'the side an' mighty soon found themseff's away on their own, close t'the barricaded fort housin' the objec's o'their interest.

“Harry,” Says the wildest female west o'the Pecos, a nasty smile curlin' her lips. “We's jest a few yards off'n those ratbags, now. What say we rush the front door; kick the dam' thing in—it cain't be made o'much more'n broken planks o'old dry timber—an' shoots promiscus an' wholesale, not purposin' t'give rebates t'the customers on said products o'our industry?”

Long used to makin' decisions on the hoof, an' havin' been in some tight corners herself over the years, Harry took no more'n a second t'come t'a decision.

“Calam, that there's a mighty pretty plan. It's got surprise; it's got determination; it's got downright savvy; an' it appeals t'me entire. You first, me first, or we go t'gether?”

Comin' round the corner o'the grain store, an' givin' the inhabitants therein no time t'grasp the way o'things, they ran at the closed door, blastin' away with what I believe is called, on the stage, gay abandon. The old thin planks, dry as old grass, fell apart in a cloud o'dust; the old table the criminals had shoved against the inside o'the door proved no barrier t'the women, who merely kicked it aside with disdain then, in the dim interior, they called out whether the inmates wished t'do the decent thing an' surrender their worthless carcases t'Wild Bill an' the officers o'the Law. A barrage o'gunfire bein' the only reply t'this polite request—none o'it hittin' any kind'a a target, as previous—the gallant ladies took this as full authority an', standin' inside on opposite sides o'the destroyed door, commenced to let fly an' riddle the dim shadowy interior with a rollin' fire. As Harry ran out o'ammo an' had t'pause t'reload, Calam took up the continuyatin' o'said barrage; an' on her part, Harry returned the favour. Final, after about forty seconds, both women ceased fire an' peered through the thick white evil-smellin' smoke, tryin' t'see if either foe was still activ' an' in any-ways in the land o'the livin'.

The slight breeze evident outside had jest made some inroads inta the solid atmosphere inside the shattered buildin' when Bill came on the scene; riled as a mountain bear with the toothache, an' spittin' blood in his fury.

Jay-suus! ” He let fly as he strode through the broken entrance, like an avengin' angel come t'do the necessary in a land wholly given up t'evil an' debauchery. “What fer did ya both do that fer? Cain't ye wait till I tell ya what I want done? Jay-suus , what a coupl'a deadbeats. Ye're fired! Ye're both fired, hear me? Y'ain't no-ways depities no more. Kindly leave the scene o'the crime, an' make it dam' snappy. Are they alive, by the way; or ay're they dam' well dead? I finds I doesn't, at this goddam juncture, care which.”

A long heartfelt sigh ran through the assembled audience, as the climax of the stirring tale was reached. They had all been held rapt throughout, and now were just as interested in hearing the outcome of the story.

“What happened, in the end?” The young dandy asked, respectfully.

“Waal, it all turned out fine on sev'ral accounts.” Charlie nodded comfortably, at the happy response to his tale. “Seems neither Harry nor Calam were quite as good shots as they'd previous let on t'the public at large. Black Andrew was certinly out o'contention, but only with a bullet through his left ankle—the fact that hereabouts he started roarin' with pain showin' he weren't badly hit. Snakelips had suffer'd the most, however. He'd taken a shot in his left arm, not his shootin' arm; an' another in the top o'his right thigh, which Doc Peterson was goin' t'have some enjiyment, later, in takin' out agin. But most of all, Snakelips had bin thrown against the back wall o'the grain store, an' had hit his head so hard it took four hours fer him t'return t'society's lovin' embrace.”

“How did they fare later, at trial?” The dandy asked this question on behalf of all present.

“Oh, there was still no evidence o'their earlier misdemenoors.” Charlie shrugged his shouldes. “So they only got a good long term fer their attempted hijackin' o'Mrs Manton's Palace an' its contents—but still, a fine lengthy number o'years in the state Penitentiary, all the same.”

“And Calam and Harry?”

“Ah well.” Charlie smiled round at his audience. “As y'all can readily believe they'd sort'a out-stayed their welcome in Hickock's town; though even he had t'admit the rest o'Red Neck's menfolk, ‘specially those who'd bin in the posse, had been mighty pleased the women had put themseff's in the line o'fire without the technicality o'first requirin' the presence o'the rest of the posse. Anyways, Hickock had a meetin' with the red-faced, but still overbearinly happy, duo the next day in his Marshall's office; wherein, almost keepin' his temper, he thanked ‘em fer their service, an' requested them t'vacate the premises an' the precincts of Red Neck jest as quick as they could saddle their hosses—quicker, if possible. He representin' that if'n he didn't see hide nor hair o'them fer the next six months he wouldn't be inconsolable.”

“Sheriff Hickock.” Says Harry, rising t'her full six feet one inch, an' lookin' mighty like one o'them Amazon ladies of olden times. “It gives me no pleasure t'inform ya me an' Calam here have a bear-huntin' trip all planned, an' will indeed be gone from yer adorin' vicinity fer all o'those six months. Our idee bein' t'return loaded down with bearskins an' beaver, t'sech an extent we'll be rolling in dough fer years t'come. I bids ya a fond farewell, an' hopes y'won't cry in yer beer too long over the parting.”

“Hickock,” Says Calam, no way allowin' she'd be left out o'the celebrations. “there's fairly good sheriffs'; an' there's mighty good sheriffs; an' you is pretty much t'be found summer's in there amongst the masses. I bids ye a fond farewell—allus allowin, o'course, I ain't gon'na lose any dam' sleep over not seein' yer handsome feeturs bargin' inta my affairs fer months t'come. Goodbye, an' fare ye well; as, I'm told, the Brits say.”

And the two women strolled, casool an' collected, arm in arm out'ta his office an' disappeared along the sidewalk, as happy as larks; an' in no way feelin' the pains o'a guilty conscience.”

“Goddam it, it's Marshall, dam' it! Oh well, at least I got six months o'peace an' tranquility; an' any galoot who tries t'muscle in on either jest better write his will first.”

 

The End

—O—

To be continued in the next ‘ Red Neck ' story of series 01.

 

—OOO—

 

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