As Ledge had predicted, he and Lancaster were the center of attention. It was just not often that Ledge was seen in this part of town, let alone this saloon.
“Ledge,” the bartender said. “Surprised to see you here. What can I getcha?” He was fat, with mean little eyes buried in fat pouches. He had only a few hairs on his head, yet he appeared to only be in his thirties.
“That’s up to my friend here,” Ledge said.
The bartender looked at Lancaster curiously. He wasn’t used to having Ledge refer to someone as his friend.
“You remember a man named Sweet?” Lancaster asked. “Was in here last week with two other men.”
The bartender stared at Lancaster, then looked at Ledge. “What’s goin’ on, Ledge?”
“If I was you, I’d answer the man’s question.”
“We don’t like nobody comin’ in here askin’ no questions,” the bartender said. “You oughtta know that, Ledge. And why you come in here wearin’ a gun?”
“Because I’m thinkin’ I might have to shoot somebody,” Ledge replied.
“Sweet,” Lancaster said again. “With two other men, all stayin’ at the Autry House.”
The bartender’s eyes danced around in his head. He was either looking for help or just nervous that everyone in the room was now watching him to see what he’d say.
“Sweet, you say?”
“That’s right.”
“Wh-what’s he look like?”
“Trail clothes, probably thirties. The three of them were probably alike.”
“We gets lots of men—”
“Came in off the desert,” Lancaster said. “Stayed a couple of days, maybe.”
“I dunno—”
“Maybe you even sent them over to the Autry,” Ledge said. “You been known to do that, right, Eddie?”
Eddie the bartender gave Ledge an exasperated look, as if to say, Thanks a lot! “Well, sometimes—”
“Think hard, Eddie,” Ledge said. “Think real hard before you answer.”
Eddie was being watched by everyone in the bar, but he was wilting beneath the twin stares of both Lancaster and Ledge.
“Sweet,” he said, licking his lips. “Yeah, I think I remember somebody by that name. I mighta sent them to the Autry—him and his friends, I mean.”
“Did you ever hear them talking about where they might go after they left here?”
“I don’t think—”
“I already heard from somebody who said he did hear them talking in here,” Lancaster said, “so I’m just checking to see if you have the same information—or if you’re going to lie.”
Again, the bartender licked his lips. “Well…somebody mighta said somethin’ about going to Henderson.”
“Would it have been Sweet?”
“Now, that I really can’t tell ya,” Eddie said. “I don’t rightly remember which one said it. And that’s the truth.”
Lancaster turned and looked at the room. Half of the eyes slid away, but the others stared boldly back at him, as if daring him to challenge them.
Lancaster was in the mood for a challenge.
“Anybody here remember a man named Sweet?” he asked. “With a couple of partners?”
“Why’n’t ya go back where ya came from?” somebody asked. “Ya don’t belong here, askin’ questions.”
Lancaster pushed away from the bar and stood straight up. Ledge followed his lead.
“Who said that?”
Nobody answered.
“Come on,” Lancaster said, “you were brave enough to say something, be brave enough to take the credit.”
No answer. More eyes slid away; just a few were brave enough to at least keep staring.
“Bunch of cowards,” Lancaster said. “Now I see why you stay at this end of town and drink with the other yellow bellies.”
He turned back to the bartender.
“I find out you lied to me, I’ll be back to take this place apart,” he said, “and I’m in just the mood to do it.”
“Hey, I answered yer questions,” Eddie said. “Why take it out on me?”
“Because I don’t like the quality of your customers,” Lancaster said.
Eddie cast an accusing glance at his customers. For a moment Lancaster thought the bartender would point out the speaker, but it didn’t happen.
Lancaster looked at Ledge. “You got any idea who spoke?”
“I got a couple,” Ledge said. “I just might have a couple.”
Twenty-four
Ledge left the bar and walked over to a table of three men. Two of them looked away, but one of them held Ledge’s stare.
“What about you, Jimmy? You the big mouth?” Ledge asked.
Still staring back, the man named Jimmy said, “If it was me, Ledge, I’d say so.”
Ledge looked over at Lancaster. “Yeah, he’s right. He would.”
Ledge moved on to another table, this one with two men. He put his hand on the shoulder of a man who jumped at the touch.
“This is Nappy, though. He’d speak up from out of a crowd, where it was safe, and then hide. Wouldn’t you, Nappy?”
“Whataya pickin’ on me fer, Ledge?” Nappy asked. “I din’t do nothin’ to you.”
“I think you got a big mouth, Nappy,” Ledge said. “What do you know about Sweet and his friends?”
“Nothin’.”
Lancaster saw Ledge’s hand close on Nappy’s shoulder. There was a lot of strength in that hand, and it was being brought to bear on the smaller man, who winced and wilted under the pressure.
“Okay, okay,” he whined. “I had a drink with Sweet and his friends.”
“What were his friends’ names?” Lancaster asked.
“I dunno,” Nappy said. “I only talked ta Sweet. The other two just listened.”
“What’d you talk about?”
“This and that.”
Ledge’s hand closed again.
“Ow!” Nappy looked around for help, but there was none available. “Okay. We talked about the desert, and how not many men come walkin’ in off it.”
“Why was Sweet talking about that?” Ledge asked.
“He just seemed interested in hearin’ if anybody had ever made it on foot,” Nappy said. “Like he was nervous about it or somethin’.”
Why would Sweet be nervous about leaving Lancaster in the desert—unless he was afraid that Lancaster would successfully walk out?
Maybe he remembered—as Lancaster had—that one of the other men had said his name.
Ledge looked over at Lancaster, who nodded. The big man took his hand off Nappy’s shoulder and walked back to stand by Lancaster at the bar.
“Anybody else got anything to say?” Lancaster demanded.
There was no response. He looked at Eddie the bartender again. “Remember what I said.”
“I ain’t lyin’ about nothin’,” Eddie said, spreading his hands helplessly.
“Let’s go,” Lancaster said to Ledge.
“You first,” Ledge said.
Lancaster left, Ledge covering his back, and then the big man backed out, as well.
Outside the saloon Ledge asked, “Did you get what you wanted?”
“I think so,” Lancaster said, “but maybe we can get more at the Autry.”
“Let’s go, then,” Ledge said, “before Eddie sends somebody over there to warn them we’re comin’.”
Twenty-five
The Autry was a run-down two-story hotel that looked one good storm away from being a pile of rubble.
“You know the owner here?” Lancaster asked.
“No,” Ledge said. “I knew the previous owner, but he was killed.”
“By the present owner?”
“No, by a former guest.”
“What about clerks?” Lancaster asked. “Know any of the clerks?”
“That depends,” Ledge said with a shrug. “Why don’t we just go in and see who’s working? I might know ’em, but I might not.”