That seemed to stop Tim and his friends for a moment.
“My brother’s right,” Thomas said. “There’s a way to resolve this without anybody gettin’ in trouble, or gettin’ hurt.”
“Resolve?” Tim asked, frowning.
“Settle it,” Thomas said, “there’s a way to settle this.”
The six ranch hands seemed to need a way to settle it, since Thomas had already offered them the girls.
“Howzat?” Tim asked.
Tim looked at James to see if he had anything to say, but the younger brother simply shrugged. It was up to Thomas to come up with a clever solution.
Since Matthew and Lou were still eyeing each other, Thomas said, “We each pick one man, and the two of them go at it.”
Tim frowned. “Go at it how? Guns?”
“No,” Thomas said, “no guns. I don’t think the situation calls for guns, do you? After all, somebody could end up getting killed, and over what? A couple of girls?”
“Hey!” Dora said, but the men ignored her.
“Well,” Tim said, “maybe not…”
“Knives?” one of the other ranch hands offered.
“Somebody still gets hurt, or killed,” James said.
“Or arrested,” Thomas said.
“A fight, then,” Tim said. “Our big man against yours.”
Thomas looked at Matthew, who was still exchanging hostile glances with Lou. He remembered what had happened when his brother started to whomp the sheriff in Vernon. Getting into a barfight would constitute getting into trouble as far as Dan Shaye was concerned, and he would be held responsible.
“Arm wrestling!” James suddenly said.
“What?” Tim asked.
“That’s a good idea,” Thomas said. “We’ll have an arm wrestling match. My brother Matthew against your man Lou.” Thomas slapped his brother on the back.
“What are the stakes?” Tim asked.
“The winners get the girls,” Thomas said.
“And the losers have to buy the drinks,” James added.
“That suits me,” Matthew said.
Tim turned and looked at his companions. Pat shrugged and looked over at Lou.
“Suits me too,” Lou said. “This fella’s nothin’.”
“Let’s get a table ready!” James shouted.
Some of the other patrons, now that they knew there was to be no gunplay, got involved. They brought over a table and two chairs, and Thomas pulled both of his brothers aside.
“Matthew, can you take this guy?” he asked. “He’s got that belly, and that’ll anchor him.”
“It don’t matter, Thomas,” Matthew assured his older brother. “I’ll break him down. I ain’t never been beat in arm wrestling.”
“I know,” Thomas said, “in Epitaph. But this fella’s older, and he’s heavier.”
“It don’t matter, I tell ya.”
Thomas looked at James.
“I think we should take bets,” James said. “What do you think?”
“That’s what I was thinkin’,” Thomas said, “as long as Matthew is sure.”
“I been lookin’ into his eyes,” Matthew told them. “I can beat ’im.”
“James?” Thomas said.
“I’m on it.”
Suddenly, it turned into a betting match, and James was moving all around the room taking action. Tim, on the other side, seeing that, started doing the same thing.
The two participants, Matthew and Lou Scales, stood facing each other on either side of the table. Neither would sit until the match was about to start.
“Wait a minute!” Tim called out.
“What is it?” Thomas asked.
“We need a referee.”
“Somebody impartial,” James said.
The brothers knew they were at a disadvantage since they didn’t know anybody in the saloon, and the ranch hands were local.
“It don’t matter,” Matthew said to Thomas and James. “We ain’t gonna need a referee to decide the winner.”
“No,” Lou Scales said, “we ain’t, because I’m gonna tear this pup’s arm off.”
“Then the bartender will do,” Thomas said. “Any objections?”
Nobody objected. Probably the most impartial person in any saloon was the bartender anyway.
“Okay, then,” James said, “we might as well get started.”
21
Alone in his room, Dan Shaye realized that being alone was not a good thing for him. All he did was think about his dead wife. That fueled his anger and his bitterness, and without an outlet, they could combine to eat him alive from the inside out. He decided to go see what the boys were up to. He was fairly certain Thomas could keep them out of trouble, but there was no harm in checking.
The two men seated at the table were the center of attention. All the others—all men except for the two saloon girls—crowded around them. Some climbed on top of tables to see, others stood on the bar. Most of the people in the place had a monetary interest in the outcome.
Thomas watched the action with satisfaction. A potentially dangerous situation had become a sporting event, and that was much preferred.
He hoped his father would feel the same way, because at that moment he saw Dan Shaye walk into the saloon.
From the street, Shaye had noticed all the commotion coming out of the small saloon, and he walked over hoping he would not find his sons in there. As soon as he entered, though, he knew he was out of luck. He could feel their presence.
He pushed his way through the crowd until he saw Matthew sitting at a table across from a man who was as big as a bull. Then he saw Thomas, on the other side of the table, looking at him. He hadn’t seen James yet, so he circled his way to his oldest son.
“Hello, Pa,” Thomas said.
“Thomas,” Shaye said. “Do we have any money on this little contest?”
“Uh, some.”
“Where’s James?”
“He’s right over there.” Shaye looked where Thomas was pointing and saw his youngest son standing among a bunch of bar patrons.
“And why are we here?”
“It was either this or a bar fight,” Thomas said, “or worse.”
“And what started it?”
“Uh, that big guy and five of his friends.”
“Over what?”
“Well…”
“Girls?”
“Yup.”
“Those two standing on the bar?”
Thomas turned and saw that a couple of men had helped Dora and Henri up onto the bar so they could see better.
“I’m afraid so,” Thomas said. “They came up to us, Pa. I swear, the place was empty when we got here, but—”
“Save it, Thomas,” Shaye said. “Looks like they’re about to start. That big guy looks like he’s going to be tough. Big belly on him. It’ll anchor him.”
“That’s what I thought, Pa,” Thomas said, “but Matthew said he could take him.”
“I guess we’re about to find out if he’s right.”
22
Dan Shaye watched as his son Matthew dug his feet into the floor. He thought he could actually see the muscles of his tree-stump-like legs tensing. Matthew was going to try to use the strength of his legs to counteract the bigger man’s heavy center. If he was able to do that, it would come down to the man with the most arm strength.
The bartender got the two men to clasp hands, held them steady with his own hands, then released them and said, “Go.”
Immediately, the place erupted in shouting, yelling, and whistling as the men—and the two ladies—rooted for the man they had their money on.
“If your brother wins,” Shaye said into Thomas’s ear, “are his partners going to go along with it?”
“They should,” Thomas said. “It’s only gonna cost them the two girls, and drinks.”