“Doc, my job isn’t either-or, my job is both,” Kyle said. “So I’ll be going after the train robbers and Matt Jensen. And until I see some physical evidence to the contrary, I’m still not convinced they aren’t one and the same. Oh, by the way, Doc, is Deputy Hayes’ body still here?”
“Yes, I believe it is. Except for those who lived here, I think all the bodies are still in Seth McKenzie’s warehouse.”
“Good. I want the bullet that killed Hayes. And, I want to take Hayes’ body back to Purgatory. Oh, and give me a description of Jensen.”
“I don’t know that it is Jensen,” Doc said. “Like I said, he told me his name was Cavanaugh.”
“All right, then give me a description of Cavanaugh.”
“Mid-to-late twenties, I guess. He was a lot younger in the face than in the eyes. Those eyes have seen a lot,” Doc added. “He’s about six feet tall, broad shoulders, narrow waist, light blue eyes, and hair that’s about halfway between blond and brown.”
“Sally, you’re a good artist, you’ve drawn pictures of half the people in this town. Would you draw a picture of Jensen for me? Doc, you can watch her draw it, then tell her when she’s close.”
“You don’t need to describe him to me,” Sally said.
“What do you mean? You mean you aren’t going to draw his picture?”
“No, I mean he doesn’t have to describe him to me. He was in here that first night. I bought supper for him. I know what he looks like.”
“Good. You draw the picture, and I’ll take it over to Blanton to get a woodcut made.”
“Marshal?” someone said, coming up to the table where Kyle, Doc, Boomer, and Sally were sitting.
“Yes, Barney, what can I do for you?” Kyle asked, recognizing the whiskey drummer.
“I heard tell you was looking for whoever robbed the train.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Well, I was on the train and I think I seen them.”
“You think you saw them, or you did see them?” Kyle asked.
“I think—that is, I’m sure I did see them.”
“If you did see them, Barney, would you tell me why in the hell you are just now getting around to telling me about it?”
“I had to think on it some to be certain in my own mind that that is what I did see,” Barney explained.
“All right,” Kyle replied. “Tell me about it.”
“Yes, sir. Well, like I said, I was on the train, but I wasn’t hurt none. Anyhow, I got out of the car, and was just sort of wanderin’ around, when I seen these here four men go into the express car. I thought maybe they was part of the train. Then, no more’n a minute later, I seen ’em come out carrying a canvas bag. I didn’t think nothin’ of it at the time ’cause, to tell the truth, I guess I was still all confused and dizzy ’n’ all over havin’ just come through the wreck. But when I heard the train was robbed, it got me to thinkin’ that maybe they was the ones who done it.”
“Can you describe them?”
“Yes, sir, I think I can. One of ’em had a scar, a big, ugly, purple scar that run from his forehead, through his left eye, and down. And the eyelid was all puffed up, like it had a big wart on it or somethin’,” Barney said. He used his finger to outline the position of the scar on his own face.
“Marshal, that sounds just like Cletus Odom,” Boomer said.
“Yes, it does,” Kyle said. “Barney, you said there were others?”
“Yes, sir, there was three others.”
“Tell me about them.”
“One of them was a big man, I’d say six feet four or so, over two hundred pounds. I mean, he was a big, strong-lookin’ son of a bitch.” Then, as if just realizing that Sally was sitting at the table he nodded toward her. “Sorry, Miss Sally,” he apologized.
“That’s all right, Barney, from what I’ve heard of Cletus Odom, anyone who would ride with him would have to be a son of a bitch.”
Barney smiled. “Yes, ma’am, I reckon you’re right.”
“You said there were four,” Kyle said, urging Barney to get back to his descriptions.
“Uh, yeah, four. Well, there was the scar faced man, and the big one, like I said. Then there was one who was small and dark, I think he was probably a Mexican. The fourth one was a drunk.”
“Drunk?”
“No, he wasn’t drunk when I seen him. But he is a drunk,” Barney clarified.
“What do you mean he is a drunk?” Kyle asked. “How can you tell if a man is a drunk if he isn’t drunk? And even then, you can be drunk without being a drunk.”
“Yes, sir, you can, and that’s how I know,” Barney said. “You forget, Marshal, I’m a whiskey salesman. I reckon I have seen more drunks than just about anyone. Not even bartenders see as many drunks as a whiskey drummer does. But even they can tell someone who is a drunk.”
Kyle drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, then he called out. “Fred, could you come over here for a moment?”
“Sure, Marshal,” Fred replied affably. Throwing the bar towel over his shoulder, he came from behind the bar and walked over to the table where Kyle, Boomer, Doc, and Sally were seated.
“Fred, can you tell if a man is a drunk just by looking at him?” Kyle asked. “I don’t mean drunk, I mean a drunk.”
“Oh, yes, sir, Marshal, sure you can,” Fred replied. “You can tell in a heartbeat.”
“How can you tell?”
“I don’t know quite how to explain it,” Fred replied. “But they all have a certain look about them. You can just tell, that’s all.”
“All right, thanks,” Kyle said.
“Can I get anybody anything else?” he asked.
“I’ll have me another beer,” Boomer said.
The others indicated they were fine.
“All right,” Kyle said after Fred returned to the bar. “So, what do we have here? Cletus Odom, a big man, a small Mexican, and a drunk?”
“Yes, sir, that pretty much sums it up,” Barney said. “I hope that helps you find the ones that done this.”
“It’s a start,” Kyle said. “Thanks.”
Barney left just as Fred put another beer in front of Boomer.
Boomer took a drink of his beer, then wiped the foam away from his lips before he spoke.
“Well, if it was Cletus Odom, then it’s a lead-pipe cinch that he’s the one that stole the money. Seems to me that lets this fella Jensen off the hook, don’t you think?” Boomer asked.
Kyle sighed. “Yes, you might be right. It could be that Jensen just took advantage of the situation to escape. But that still leaves us with the fact that Jensen is a convicted murderer, so even if he didn’t rob the train, I don’t think I would go so far as to say that this would let him off the hook.”
“What about Odom?” Boomer asked. “Shouldn’t we ought to do somethin’ about him?”
“Yes, if it was Odom, we should do something about him,” Kyle said. “But first, we need to find out if it was him. We’ve got some pretty good pictures of Odom down at the office. Boomer, how about taking Barney down to the office and showing him some pictures. Don’t tell him who they are—let him pick one out on his own.”
“I know how to do this, Benjamin. I didn’t just start deputyin’ yesterday, you know,” Boomer said, a little miffed that the marshal felt he had to tell him that.
“I know you know how to do it, Boomer, I didn’t mean anything by it,” Kyle said. “I was just sort of thinking out loud, is all.”
“That’s all right, I ain’t put out with you none,” Boomer said, easing his tone a bit. He looked over at Barney. “Come along, Barney I got some pretty pictures to show you.” Boomer chuckled. “Well, now that I think about it, they ain’t all that pretty. But I’m goin’ to show ’em to you anyway.”
Kyle, Sally, and Doc watched Boomer and Barney leave. Then, Doc picked up his mug of beer and took a drink. “I’m glad Barney came along,” he said. “I knew Cavanaugh—or Jensen as you say—didn’t have anything to do with robbing that train.”