“Hey, that reminds me, boss,” Phyl put in. “You had an answer to that telegraph to Austin. Marty was put on the stage by the town clown, for lifting a drunken dude’s wallet.”
“I thought as much,” Ella stated, drawing on her stockings. “Go down and tell Stan I’ll be in soon, and after I’ve paid him off, you can let me have a word with Marty.”
Half an hour later Ella strolled downstairs dressed in her usual work-day style and showing no sign of having sneaked out of town that afternoon, taken a long ride and not long returned from visiting the hiding place of the stolen cattle.
“Did that feller see you-all, Miss Ella?” Stan asked eagerly as she came up.
“Sure, Stan,” Ella answered and held out the envelope she carried. “Say, what’s in this?”
“Poker winnings, ma’am.”
Like the rest of the cowhands who became involved in the cow stealing, Stan believed that Ella merely acted as an innocent go-between for the hard-case Stocker who took the cattle from them. Taking the envelope, Stan opened it and extracted the money. He slipped four of the ten-dollar bills into his wallet and turned to the bar.
“You’ve been lucky,” Ella remarked, watching him thrust the wallet into his hip pocket.
“Sure have, ma’am,” Stan agreed with a grin. “This’ll sure buy us a time when we get to Fort Williams.”
“So you’re deserting us, Stan,” Ella smiled.
“Shucks, it’ll only be for a spell. Say, ma’am, can I buy you a drink?”
“I’ll take a brandy, Stan, thank you.”
“One brandy, two glasses of whisky, something for the gals and one for you, Izzy,” ordered the cowhand. “Say, when’s old Pedlar Jacobs coming up here again?”
“Don’t know, Stan,” replied the bartender. “He comes and goes. What’s up?”
“Got him a real fancy white-handled Army Colt last time he was in. I figured I might buy it. Is he a friend of your’n?”
“Not especially,” grunted the bartender and moved away to attend to another customer. One thing Izzy did not wish to discuss was his association with Jake Jacobs, particularly before his boss.
“Drink up and have another, gals,” Stan told them, ignoring the departing Izzy. “I’m just going out back.”
As Eddie elected to go along with his brother, Ella had her chance to talk with Calamity. First Ella sent Mousey off with a message for Phyl, then turned to her latest employee.
“When Stan rides off, I want you to bring me his wallet,” the saloon-keeper ordered. “And don’t try to look shocked or innocent. I heard from Austin and know why you left town.”
“Oh!” said Calamity flatly, not quite sure how she ought to react.
“You don’t need to worry about that here, either. As long as you only do it when I tell you. Go to it and lift his leather for me.”
“Yes’m,” said Calamity.
Yet she felt worried by the assignment even though it presented her with a chance to gain Ella Watson’s confidence. Calamity remembered Murat’s warning that she must not become a party to any crime by actual participation. Even without the warning Calamity would have shrunk from stealing and did not want the young cowhand believing she was a thief.
At that moment Stan and his brother returned and Ella drifted away. The two young cowhands behaved in a more steady manner than Calamity would have expected, knowing how most of their kind acted when in the money. Although Stan and Eddie bucked down to enjoying themselves, they did not go beyond the ten dollars the elder brother retained for his payment. Of course, ten dollars could get a couple of cowhands reasonably drunk, even when buying drinks for various friends.
“Ten o’clock, time we was riding, Brother Eddie,” Stan remarked after bringing Calamity from the dance floor.
“Sure thing, big brother,” grinned Eddie. “See you around Mousey.”
“Now me,” Stan stated, his arm around Calamity’s waist, “I’ve got more good sense than to pick up with a gal who’s got a feller. You-all coming to see me on my way, Marty, gal?”
“I sure wouldn’t miss it for the world,” replied Calamity.
Arm in arm, she and Stan left the room, with Eddie following on their heels. Outside the youngster left his elder brother on the sidewalk while he went to collect the horses. Slipping his arm around Calamity’s waist, Stan looked down at her.
“Do I get a kiss afore I leave?” he asked.
“Not out here. Let’s go into the alley.”
“We’re on our way, Marty, gal.”
On reaching the shelter of the alley, Calamity turned to face the young cowhand. Like she figured, he might be trying to sprout a moustache and act all big and grown-up, but Stan lacked practical experience in such matters. In her time Calamity had been made love to by some prominent gentlemen, the kind of fellers who could near on curl a girl’s hair just by taking her in their arms. Stan did not come into that class by a good country mile.
After fumbling for a moment, he got to slipping his arms around her and brought his face to her own. Calamity slid her arms between his and around his body then burrowed her face to his, kissing him. And when Calamity set her mind to it, she could kiss better than most gals with far greater advantages in more formal education. One thing was for sure, when Calamity started in to kissing him, Stan could have been jabbed by a sharp-rowelled spur and never noticed the pain.
While kissing, Calamity lowered one hand and slid the wallet from Stan’s hip pocket. The very ease with which she removed it made Calamity decide to change her plans. On leaving the saloon she had merely intended to give Stan a slight return for a mildly enjoyable evening and then return to Ella Watson with the story that the cowhand did not give her a chance to lift his leather. Finding how easy the removal was, Calamity changed her original plan.
Just before she could put her plan into operation, Stan pulled his head away from her. Calamity found herself in an embarrassing position, standing with the cowhand’s wallet in her right hand. Of course, he could not see the hand, but at any moment he might miss his wallet. So, like any good general, Calamity decided the best defense would be to attack.
“Whooee!” she gasped. “You sure kiss up a storm. When a gal’s been kissed by you, she sure knows she’s been kissed.”
Which same coincided with what Stan had always suspected. “Want another?” he inquired.
“What do you think?”
Once again Calamity kissed the cowhand. His arms gripped her tightly, but she managed to extract the money from the wallet. Still holding Stan’s attention, she slid the money into his pocket and retained the wallet.
“Stan! Hey, Stan!” Eddie yelled, riding into sight on the street and leading a second horse. “Let’s go.”
Releasing Calamity, Stan stepped back. Just in time Calamity slipped her right hand behind her back so he could not see the wallet it held. Stan looked at the girl and grinned.
“Dang it, Marty,” he said. “I’ve got to go now. Say, will you be here when I get back?”
“Sure will,” she agreed.
Turning, Stan headed for his horse and went afork in a flying mount. A wild cowhand yell left his lips and he put the pet-makers to his horse’s flanks. With a few more whooping yells, the brothers galloped out of town. Calamity watched them go, a grin on her face. Quickly she slipped the wallet into the front of her dress and walked back to the saloon.
“Did you get it?” Ella asked as Calamity walked over to her.
“Sure. Where’d you want me to give it to you?”
“In the office. Come on.”
Following the saloonkeeper, and with Maisie and Phyl on her heels, Calamity went into Ella’s office; a small room with a desk, a couple of chairs and a safe, and used for general saloon business. Taking out the wallet, Calamity handed it to Ella, wondering what would come next.