“Jake,” one of the men said. “Rob’s first drink is on me.”
“No, sir,” Jake said. “His first drink is on the house. The second drink is on you.”
“And the third is on me,” another patron said.
“Hey, Rob, tell us all about it.”
“Tell you about what?”
“How you and some of the other fellas rode out to the dam and just…boom!” he said animatedly. “Just blew it up!”
“Well, Hawke is the one that took us out there,” Rob said.
“Hawke?”
“Yeah, he’s the foreman now.”
“I thought you was the foreman.”
“I was, but I’m not ’ny more,” Rob said sheepishly. “I’m just lucky that Mr. Dorchester took me back at all. I mean, bein’ as I took off on him to look for gold.”
“The gold that wasn’t there,” someone said, laughing.
“Yeah, well, it ain’t that funny when you spend more’n a month lookin’ for somethin’ that wasn’t never there in the first place,” Rob said.
“So, you was tellin’ us about blowing up the dam,” someone said.
“Yes, tell us how you blew up the dam.”
Rob turned with a big smile on his face, but the smile evaporated when he saw who had asked. Ethan Dancer was standing by the front door, having just come in.
“It, uh…was nothing,” Rob said. He turned back to the bar.
“Oh, I don’t think it was nothing,” Dancer said, taunting him. “I’ve been hearing all over town about how a bunch of…brave men…blew up Miss McPherson’s dam and got the water back. You were one of those brave men, weren’t you?”
“I, uh…was one of the men who did it,” Rob said. He was very nervous now; he didn’t like the way this was going. “I wouldn’t say that it was all that brave.”
“You do know, don’t you, that I work for Miss McPherson?”
“I, uh, heard that, yes,” Rob said.
“So, you can understand why I’m not taking it all that kindly that a brave man like you would blow up her dam.”
“I told you, I’m not a brave man,” Rob said, swallowing his humiliation in order not to push the situation any further.
“Oh, but surely you are a brave man,” Dancer said. “You are either brave, or you are a coward. Which is it?”
By now everyone in the saloon realized what was going on, and they began drifting away from Rob, even those who a moment earlier had wanted to stand next to him and buy him drinks.
Rob looked into the mirror behind the bar and saw the people drifting to the left and the right, like the parting of the sea. His hand shaking in fear now, he lifted the glass to his lips and took a drink.
“You haven’t answered my question, cowboy,” Dancer said. “Are you brave? Or are you a coward?”
“I don’t know,” Rob mumbled. He felt his stomach in his throat, and his knees were so weak that he had to put his hands on the bar to keep from collapsing. He was getting in deeper, and he didn’t know how to get out.
“You know what I think?” Dancer said. “I think you are a brave man. Yes, sir, it takes a brave man to do what you done. Bartender, give this brave man another drink, on me.”
“Thank you, no, I’ve had enough to drink,” Rob said. “I don’t want to go back out to the ranch drunk.”
“Are you turning down my generous offer?” Dancer asked.
“Mr. Dancer, I don’t think it’s that,” Jake said. “He never has been much of a drinker.”
Dancer didn’t say anything to Jake, but he held up his hand in a way that told Jake to stay out of it.
“Turn around, brave man,” Dancer said to Rob. “Turn around and tell me to my face that you don’t want to accept a drink from me.”
“I reckon I’ll have another drink at that,” Rob said.
Jake’s hand was shaking nearly as badly as Rob’s now, but he managed to get the drink poured, then set it in front of Rob.
“Thanks,” Rob said. He tossed the drink down.
“Why did you thank the bartender?” Dancer asked. “I’m the one that bought you the drink. Turn around and tell me thanks.”
“No, don’t do it, Rob. Don’t turn around,” Jake whispered.
“I’ve got to, Jake,” Rob answered. “If I don’t, I’ll never be able to hold my head up in this town again.”
Slowly, carefully, Rob turned around to face Dancer, who was about twenty feet from him. His jacket was pushed back to expose his pistol.
“You know where this is going now, don’t you, cowboy? I mean, you aren’t really all that dumb, are you?”
Rob took a deep breath. “It’s not going anywhere,” he said.
“Oh, but I think it is. You are a brave man, after all. I mean, we did decide that, didn’t we?”
“Look, let me buy you a drink and let’s call it even.”
“Uh-uh,” Dancer said, shaking his head. “I don’t think we can do that now. I think it’s time for you to dance with the demon.”
“No,” Rob said, holding up his left hand, palm out, as a signal to stop. “No, I’ve heard about you, how ever’ time you invite someone to dance with the demon, they die. Well, I ain’t goin’ to dance with the demon.”
“I think you will,” Dancer said.
“No, I ain’t, I tell you.”
Dancer drew and fired, doing it so quickly that it caught everyone in the saloon by surprise. By the time they realized what had happened, Dancer’s gun was already back in his holster.
His bullet had had hit Rob’s left earlobe. With a shout of pain, Rob slapped his left hand over his ear. When he pulled it back, he saw little pieces of his earlobe in the palm of his hand.
“You son of a bitch!” he shouted angrily. “You shot my ear!”
“Are you ready to dance with the demon?” Dancer asked.
“No!”
Dancer shot again, this time taking off the lobe of his right ear.
“I’m just going to keep carving off pieces of your ears until you draw,” Dancer said.
With a scream of fury, fear, and pain, Rob made a frantic grab for his pistol.
Dancer drew and shot him in the heart. By the time Rob hit the floor, dead, Dancer had already reholstered his pistol.
Chapter 23
DANCER LEFT THE SALOON, UNCHALLENGED, AND started toward the boardinghouse where he had a room. As he walked by the office of the Sweetwater Railroad, he was surprised to see a lantern burning inside.
Pulling his pistol, he pushed the door open and stepped into the building. The front room was dark, except for a bar of light that splashed through a partially open door leading into the back room.
Dancer moved quietly toward the door, wondering who was here. He stopped when he heard voices.
“How do you know this?” The voice belonged to Addison Ford.
“I pay the Western Union operator generously, to bring me copies of any telegram he thinks might interest me.” This voice belonged to Bailey McPherson. “And according to one he just brought me, U. S. Marshals will be here by tomorrow to arrest the perpetrators of the Sweetwater Railroad Company scheme.”
“The perpetrators?”
“Yes. You and me.”
“Wait a minute,” Addison said. “I’m not the perpetrator here. You are!”
“Try telling that to the U. S. Marshals when they get here tomorrow,” Bailey said. “At any rate, you’ll be on your own. I’m heading for California on the very next train.”
Surprised to hear that Bailey was leaving, Dancer pushed the door open and stepped into the room. His sudden appearance surprised both Bailey and Addison Ford.
“Ethan! What are you doing here?” Bailey asked.
“I just killed Dorchester’s foreman,” Dancer blurted out.