“Hold it, Stocker!” a voice boomed.
Hearing the order, and the accompanying click as a gun came to full cock, Stocker froze. He had only half rose and his hand still gripped the butt of his gun, but a glance at the main doors of the saloon told him the futility of going further. Holding his Remington ready for use, Jerome stood just inside the doors and Lyle leaned a shoulder against the door jamb at his boss’s side.
“Who cut you in, Jerome?” Stocker growled.
“Danny there rides for me,” answered Jerome. “What happened?”
“I’d say that Schatz just got round to picking the wrong feller,” Lyle remarked calmly, looking to where Danny stood over the burly hard-case.
Ella Watson knew better than allow such a situation to develop too far. So she thrust herself from the bar and walked across the room, taking care not to come into the line of fire.
“All right, boys,” she said. “The fun’s over.” Her eyes went to Stocker and she went on, “I’ve told you before about Schatz abusing the boys.”
“Looks like he picked on one as didn’t take to being abused,” Lyle drawled and walked to where Mousey helped Tommy to rise. “You all right, boy?”
“Just about,” Tommy answered and felt his jaw. “Where’s he at?”
“Sleeping. Got his-self all tuckered out,” grinned the foreman.
Seeing that nothing more of interest would come from the situation, the occupants of the room resumed their interrupted pleasures. Jerome watched Ella’s bouncers haul Schatz from the room, then he turned to Ella and asked what started the fuss.
“It wasn’t Danny here’s fault,” she replied, “Schatz started to rough-handle Mousey and Tommy, then Danny cut in. That boy’s some fighter. Dirty, but good.”
“Always reckoned it’s better to fight dirty and win, than fair and get all licked, ma’am,” Danny put in and turned to Calamity. “Say, how’s about taking a drink with me, Red?”
“Right with you and the name’s Marty, not Red,” she replied.
Watching the two walk away, Ella decided that an efficient young man like Danny Forgrave ought to be a valuable asset to her organization. Of late there had been a considerable amount of independence building at Stocker’s end and she guessed that the rancher might be figuring he could run the business without her aid. Wren could take Stocker, but lacked the experience in cattle matters to handle the holding of the stolen stock. Given the right kind of bait, say plenty of money, that blond Texas cowhand might make an ideal replacement should Stocker go too far.
For a time Calamity and Danny celebrated in typical cowhand-saloon-girl style, helped by Mousey and Tommy. They had a few drinks, tried the gambling games with Tommy winning a few dollars, danced and generally enjoyed themselves. Ella watched it all, noting the way “Marty” persuaded Danny to spend more and more on her. The girl had the right idea and it seemed that Danny was struck on her. This showed in the way he blocked any other customer’s request that the girl danced or joined him. So Ella watched and waited for a chance to speak with her latest employee away from the crowd.
Ella’s chance came when Calamity and Mousey left the room to go out back. On their return, the girls found their boss waiting in the rear passage behind the bar room. Telling Mousey to go on in, Ella kept Calamity with her.
“You’re handling that cowhand real well, Marty,” she said as Mousey went through the door to the bar room.
“Shucks, that’s no problem. He reckons I’m the only gal in the world and wants to prove it.”
“Keep him going. I want him broke, but eager to come back for more.”
“Sure, boss. Say, he wants to go to the cabin with me for the night.”
“Take him up on it and sting him for ten bucks. If you can get any more than that off him, it’s yours.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Calamity said eagerly and turned to go.
Shooting out a hand, Ella caught Calamity’s arm and stopped her. “Don’t act stupid, Marty. No rolling him or anything like that. I want him coming back here all hot and eager for another session. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am. I understand.”
While Mousey did not go to the cabin with the customers herself, she had a fair idea of what went on in it. She wished that Marty would not go, but made no objections when her new friend left with Danny. Sighing, the little girl looked at Tommy and wondered whether she ought to make an exception in his case, then decided against it as they could not afford the money Miss Ella insisted was paid for the loan of a room.
“We’re going to have to play this straight, Calam,” Danny remarked as he entered the dimly-lit cabin and located the room allocated to them.
“Reckon we are,” she agreed with a grin. “I wonder how much can be heard in the other rooms?”
“I don’t know, but let’s hold our voices down.”
Calamity stripped off her dress and sat on the edge of the bed to peel the stockings from her legs. There was not much room in the section allocated to them and the window had heavy drapes covering it. Danny blew out the lamp and blackness descended on the room.
“How’s it going, Calam?” he asked, holding his voice down.
“Fair. I don’t figure they know me or think I’m anything but what I say I am. And I know how they get the cowhands involved. Fact being, I’m supposed to be involving you right now.”
“That figures. Young Sammy was caught like it. He was one of the pair Gooch gunned down.”
“I know,” Calamity grunted. “Had words with his grieving sweetie, only she wasn’t grieving until after I got through with her.”
“Know anything more?”
“Not much. Ella’s in this real deep, likely behind it. She slips out of the saloon at nights, and sometimes in daylight, dressed in man’s clothes and goes off some place.”
“Does huh?” said Danny.
His interest sounded plain in his voice and Calamity tried to see him in the blackness of the room. “What’s that mean?”
Quickly Danny explained his findings when he located the bodies of the two cowhands, then of the circumstances surrounding Gooch’s death. He mentioned the fact that the bounty hunter’s gun had been in its holster; and also about the third cow thief, the one who escaped death at Gooch’s hands.
“What do you reckon about that?” he asked.
“Same as you,” Calamity replied. “Gooch wouldn’t’ve gone up to any man with his gun still in leather, but he might to a woman. I could say she done good for the world if it was her who downed Gooch.”
“Maybe,” Danny drawled. “Only don’t let that stop you finding out all you can. The sooner we nail this business shut the happier I’ll feel. Tempers are a mite high about Sammy and Pike. Comes pay day and the Forked C getting to town at the same time as the Bench J, there might be trouble. The boys are sore enough to start it. Say, do you see much of that lawyer?”
“He comes around visiting with the boss. I don’t know how he figures in the game though. Reminds me of somebody, only I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Looks and sounds like one of them radical Republicans who used to run with Carpetbag Davis’ bunch,” Danny remarked.
“You hit it!” Calamity whooped.
The next instant Danny’s hand clamped over her mouth. “Hold it down, hot head!” he growled.
“Sorry, I forgot,” she whispered when he moved his hand. “That Soskice acts and talks like that cuss who was strangling the gals early this year in New Orleans. He was one of Henry George’s bunch, them Socialists or whatever they call themselves and Soskice carries the same brand.”