“What is this plan of yours?” Fargo asked.
“It’s a good one,” Cecelia said. “This Brain Eater ain’t like most bears. He’s tricky and smart and no one can find him. So we don’t bother tryin’. Instead, we make him come to us.”
“How?”
“Simple. We do what hunters do all the time. They set out bait. So we set out bait of our own. Bait Brain Eater can’t resist.”
“You’re talking nonsense, lady,” Rooster said. “What would you use? A cow? Some sheep? It won’t work. Brain Eater likes to kill people.”
“So we give him some.”
“Eh?”
“The bait,” Cecelia said, “is me and my kids.”
8
Rooster took the words right out of Fargo’s head by saying, “Lady, I’ve heard some dumb notions in my day but that takes the cake.”
“Don’t talk mean to her,” Moose said.
“Was this harebrained idea yours?” Rooster rejoined. “If it was you should be ashamed of yourself.”
Both Moose and Cecelia said at the same time, “Why?”
Rooster turned to Fargo. “Do you want to spell it out for them or should I?”
“Brain Eater kills people,” Fargo said, thinking that would be enough.
“So?” Moose said.
“He wouldn’t have a high bounty on his head if he didn’t,” Cecelia said.
“He’s killed kids as well as adults,” Fargo reminded them.
“What’s your point?”
Fargo stared at her. “Don’t tell me you don’t savvy. The point is that you want to use yours as bait.”
“They’re my kids,” Cecelia said. “I’ve already talked it over with them and they don’t mind.”
“They’re too young to know better,” Fargo said.
“We need them,” Cecelia insisted. “Me alone wouldn’t be enough. We need the kids runnin’ around and playin’ and makin’ a lot of noise. The griz is bound to notice.”
“What kind of mother are you, lady?” Rooster said. “You’d put their hides in danger for money?”
Cecelia came out of her chair as if fired from a cannon. She was around the table in long strides and slapped Rooster across the cheek.
Rooster’s head rocked but he was more surprised than hurt. “What the hell was that for?”
“Insultin’ me,” Cecelia declared. “By suggestin’ I don’t care about my young’uns.”
“You’re the one who wants to treat them like worms,” Rooster said.
“You listen here,” Cecelia said, jabbing him with a finger. “This is my one and maybe only chance to get ahead in this life. You have no idea how hard it is for a woman alone.”
“Maybe so,” Rooster said. “But it’s no excuse for draggin’ your young’uns up into the mountains to be ate.”
“You call love an excuse?” Cecelia shot back. “Because that’s why I’m doin’ it.” She gazed at her children and said tenderly, “They mean everythin’ to me. It tears my insides up that I can’t provide for them as I’d like to. Good clothes and schoolin’ takes money and we’re dirt poor. And it’s not for lack of tryin’. I’ve worked all sorts of jobs. I’ve scrubbed pots and pans, I was a cook, I’ve sewn and stitched, and do you know what?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Not any of them paid enough for us to make ends meet. We’re always scrapin’ to get by. Some days I can’t hardly afford food.” Tears filled her eyes, and she stopped.
“It’s all right, Ma,” little Bethany said.
“No, girl, it ain’t,” Cecelia said. “I’m sick of it. Sick of workin’ myself to a frazzle and gettin’ nowhere.” She swiped a sleeve at her eyes and cleared her throat. “Well, no more. The bounty is a godsend. I’d like the whole five thousand, sure, but I’m smart enough to know that on my own I’ll never earn it.” She looked at Moose and then at Rooster and finally at Fargo. “But with your help I can lay claim to part of it. Enough that me and mine won’t ever again have empty bellies. Enough that my kids can get some learnin’ and make somethin’ of themselves.” She wheeled on Rooster. “So don’t you sit there and accuse me of not bein’ a good ma, you old goat. I’m the best mother I can be, gettin’ by the best I know how.”
Cecelia fell silent and returned to her chair.
“That was a good talk,” Moose said, and awkwardly patted her shoulder.
Rooster frowned and fidgeted and coughed and then said gruffly, “I take it back. But I still say you’re taking a big chance.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Cecelia said quietly. “It’s why we came to you and your friend.”
Fargo understood. “The more of us there are, the better we can protect your kids.”
Cecelia nodded. “Four might be enough but five would be better. Besides, any more than that and the shares wouldn’t be worth the risk.”
“I’ll be damned,” Rooster said.
“I was against it at first too,” Moose said. “I told her no and that was final but she wouldn’t take final for an answer. So here we are.”
“We can head out at first light if you agree,” Cecelia said. “Me and mine travel light. And we wouldn’t need much in the way of grub and stuff.”
“There’s still the matter of the fifth hunter,” Rooster said. “Who did you have in mind?”
Cecelia shrugged. “We ain’t given it much thought. You have any idea who might be worth a damn?”
The batwings creaked and into the saloon strolled Wendolyn Channing Mayal, his elephant gun, as he called it, in the crook of his elbow.
“I think I do,” Fargo said.
They didn’t get to leave at first light as they wanted. Word spread that the mayor had called for a meeting of all the bear hunters the next day at noon. Since there wasn’t a building big enough to hold all of them, the meeting was to take place in the middle of the street.
Fargo remembered the mayor saying there were about fifty but the mayor underestimated by thirty to forty. The street was jammed with as diverse a group of humanity as he’d ever seen.
The clerk with his squirrel gun, some Swedish immigrants and their wives, a man in a stovepipe hat who claimed to be a chimney sweep, of all things.
Mayor Petty had a crate placed at one end of the street. Carefully climbing on, he flailed his arms to get everyone’s attention. Gradually the hubbub quieted. Clearing his throat, he began.
“All of you are probably wondering why I’ve called this gathering. The reason is simple. Gold Creek is fit to burst at the seams and you are the cause.”
Someone in the crowd hollered, “What did we do?”
“You showed up,” the mayor replied. “More of you than we ever reckoned would.”
“If you didn’t want anyone to come, you shouldn’t have posted a bounty,” someone shouted.
“I’m not assigning blame,” Petty said indignantly. “I’m merely pointing out that you have strained our meager resources to the breaking point.”
“Your what?” a man yelled.
“Since we only have one hotel and a handful of boardinghouses, most of you are camping on the outskirts,” Petty said. “You’re planting yourselves where you please. You’ve trampled gardens. Killed poultry that doesn’t belong to you. One of you even stole wash from a clothesline.”
There was laughter.
“It’s not funny. Not even a little bit,” Petty said. “We will have order or all of you will leave.”
A man in a derby cupped a hand to his mouth. “I’d like to see you make us.”
“I’ve already sent word to the army,” Petty revealed. “I expect a patrol to arrive before another week is out.”
“Oh, hell,” someone said.
“Until then, the following rules will be abided by.” Petty counted them off on his fingers. “One. All saloons will close at midnight—” He had to stop for the boos and insults. When they subsided, he said, “I repeat: All saloons will close at midnight. There will be no drinking in public. Anyone caught with a bottle will be fined. There will be no discharging of firearms in the town limits. Anyone caught doing so will be fined. There will be no accosting the ladies of our town. Anyone who imposes on them will be fined. There will—”