15 Western Short Stories — page 87: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

STARPACKER STAMPEDE 87 om Droopy Dildock. “Sorry, gents, but (ll have to search yuh both. Had a robbery in town, and I can’t let no pilgrims through without a search.” Droopy Dildock opens his yap to protest, but Bill Mabie promptly shuts it for Aim. He gives Droopy an- other kick in the shins. “Why, sure, marshal,” says Mabie agreeably, “go right ahead and search. Me and my pardner here is prospect- ors in from the Bear Tooth country. We ain’t got nothin’ to hide.” The marshal goes quickly through their pockets but apparently finds nothin’ incriminatin’ because he says: “Sorry to have bothered you gents.” Then he turns to Jensen, McCarthy and me, “Herd ’em along in back of me, Ollie. I gotta get some jail guud.” We trail him two doors down from the saloon to a lunch room irem the front of which hangs a sign readin: “EATS—Come & Get it!’ The mar- shal steps inside, and while we wait on the doorstep I hear him order a loaf of bread, two cans of beans, and, in a sudden burst of generosity, two hunks of alleged peach pie. He don’t seem to notice Mabie and Dildock follow us across the street to the clink, but I do. Them two hombres slink along behind us like a couple of ghosts. T THE DOOR of his office the marshal dismisses Ollie Jensen and takes us in alone. He hauls down a tray from a shelf back of his desk, then escorts us to the little one-- +11 jail in the rear. There he takes out his key ring, unlocks the grilled door of the cell, then lays the keys on the tray as he shoves the door inward and steps inside. He puts the tray on one of the two wooden bunks in the cell. “There’s your chuck,” he says stiffly, and turns his back on us. He slams the door and stomps out. Then we hear him shut the door to the outside office. As his footsteps fade on the board walk, Windy lets out a gasp. “Well now, will yuh look at that!” He is gazin’ down at the dinner tray. “You look at it,” I says coldly. “I ain’t hungry.” McCarthy is always hungry; for a little hombre, I never see anybody that can tuck in the chuck the way he can. “Them beans don’t look bad atall,” he says, lookin’ things over carefully, “and another thing about ’em is they're free gratis. And that pie—’”’ A sudden glint from the tray catches my eye, and that glint ain’t made by no pie. “Look,” I points. “On the tray there. That absent-mirded old jigadee forgot to take his keys!” My pardner stares. Then he turns toward the door, and he is starin’ at somethin’ else—the black holes of a pair .45s, slantin’ down at him through the bars! Behind those guns are Bill Mabie and Droopy Dildock, and the way Mabie is swishin’ the air with his gun ihere ain’t no “maybe” about it. He jaos that gun towards Windy. “Peel off your coat,” he barks. “I need it!” My pardner needs it too, but lookin’ into the business end of that .45 he decides that Bill Mabie might need it more’n he did. He takes it off and hands it through the bars, lookin’ puz- zlec. Mabie lowers his gun then, but Droopy is squintin’ along the barrel of his cutter as if he is ponderin’ the possibility of droppin’ the both of us with one shot. | Mabie gives him a shove. “Go on, dang yuh! And put up that gun afore yuh rouse up the whole blasted town with it!” He pushes Dildock again. They disappear into the office, and then the outside door slams. “Come on,” McCarthy yells, “after ‘em! That big one’s got my petition, the buzzard! Gordon must’a’ hired him to steal it! Come on!” I grab the keys, but find when I try the door that it’s unlocked anyway! Havin’ forgot the keys, Grumpy has held true to form and forgot to lock the door! I give it a push, and Windy and me come out like water pourin’ over a dam. We grab our guns on the run and head for the front door. McCarthy gets there first and yanks so hard the knob comes off in his hand. He leans out and throws it right after Mabie and Dildock. “There they go!” he hollers. “Come on—after ’em!” He starts dashin’ right out of that door and would’ve done it, except that I reach out and drag him back by the seat of the britches, COMM|COO S CO