 Texas John Alden by Robert Howard I hear the citizens of Warhoop has organized themselves into a committee of public safety, which they says is to protect the town again me, Breckinridge Elkins. Such doons as that irritates me. You'd think I was a public menace or something. I'm pretty darn tired of their slanders. I didn't tear down their cuss of jail, the Buffalo hunters done it. How could I, when I was in it at the time? As for the silver boots, saloon, and dance-hall, it wouldn't have got shot up if the owner'd showed any sense. It was Ace Middleton's own fault he got his hind leg busted in three places, and if the city-martial had been tending to his own business instead of persecuting a poor, helpless stranger, he wouldn't have got the seat of his britches full of buck-shot. Looks which says I went to Warhoop a purpose to wreck the town is liars. I never had no idea at first of going there at all. It's off the railroad, and infested with tin-horn gamblers and Buffalo hunters and such-like varmints, and no place for a trail-driver. My visit to this layer of vice came about like this. I'd rode point on a herd of longhorns clean from the lower Pekas to Goshen, where the railroad was, and I stayed there after the trail-boss and the other boys headed south to spark the bell of the town, Betty Wilkinson, which Gal was as pretty as a brand-new buoy-knife. She seemed to like me middlin' tolerable, but I had rivals—notably a snub-nosed Arizona waddy by the name of Biz Ridgway. This varmints persistence was so plum aggravatin' that I come in on him sudden like one mornin' in the back room of the Spanish Mustang in Goshen, and I says, Listen here, you sand-burr in a pant of progress. I'm a peaceable man, generous and retiring to a fault, but I'm reachin' the limit of my endurance. Ain't they no gals in Arizona that you've got to come pester in mine? Why don't you go on back home where you belong anyhow? I'm askin' you like a gent to keep away from Betty Wilkinson before somethin' unpleasant is forced to happen to ya. He kinda rared up and says, I ain't the only gent which is sparkin' Betty. Why don't you make war-talk with Rudwell Shapely, Junior? He ain't nothin' but a puttin'-headed tender foot I responded coldly. I don't consider him in no serious light. A gal with as much sense as Betty wouldn't pay him no mind. But you got a slick tongue and might snake your way ahead of me, so I'm tellin' you, he started to get up in a hurry and I reach from a buoy. But then he sunk back down in his chair, and to my amazement he busted in the tears. What in thunders a matter with you, I demanded, shocked. Woe is me, Monty. You're right, Brack. I got no business hangin' around Betty, but I didn't know she was your gal. I ain't got no matrimonial intention dawn to her. I'm just kinda consolin' myself with her company whilst bein' parted by cruel fate from my own true love. Hey, I says, prickin' up my ears and uncockin' my pistol. You ain't in love with Betty. You got another gal? A pitcher of divine beauty! Vow'd he, wipin' his eyes on my bandanna. Gloria Love-Venner, which swings in the silver boot over to war-hoop. We was to wed—hear his emotions overcome him, and he sobbed loudly, but fate interfered. He moaned. I was banished from war-hoop, never to return. In a thoughtless moment I kind of pushed a bartender with a claw hammer, and he had a stroke of apoplexity or something, and died, and they blame me. I was forced to flee without tellin' my true love where I was goin'. I ain't dared to go back because them folks over there are so prejudiced against me, they threaten to arrest me on sight. My true love is eatin' her heart out, waitin' for me to come and claim her as my bride whilst I live here in exile. Biz then wept bitterly on my shoulder till I throwed him off in some embarrassment. Why don't you write her a letter, ya dad-blame fool, I asked? I can't write nor read neither, he said, and I don't trust nobody to send word to her by. She's so beautiful the critter I'd send'd probably fall in love with her herself, the low-down polecat. Suddenly he grabbed my hand with both a hison, and said, Brick, you've got an honest face and I never did believe all they say about you anyway. Why don't you go and tell her? I'll do better than that if it'll keep you away from Betty, I says. I'll bring this gal over here to Goshen. You're a gent, says he, wringin' my hand. I wouldn't entrust nobody else with such a sacred mission. Just go to the silver boot and tell Ace Middleton you want to see Gloria Levinner alone. All right, I said. I ran a buck-board to bring her back in. I'll be countin' the hours till ya heaves over the horizon with my true love, declined he, reachin' for the whiskey bottle. So I hustled out. And who should I run into but that poor, sappified shrimp of a Rudwell shapely junior in his monkey-jacket and tight-riding pants and barnished English boots. We liked to have a collision as I barged through the swingin' doors, and he squeaked and staggered back and hollered, Don't shoot! Who said anything about shootin', I asked irritably, and he kinda got his color back and looked me over like I was a side-show or somethin' like he always done. Your home, says he, is a long way from here, is it not, Mr. Elkins? Yeah, I said. I live on Wolf Mountain, way down near where the Pekas runs into the Rio Grande. Indeed, he said kind of hopefully. I suppose you'll be returning soon? Nah, I ain't, I says. I'll probably stay here all fall. Oh, says he dejectedly, and went off lookin' like someone had kicked him in the pants. I wondered why he should get so down in the mouth just because I weren't goin' home. But them tender-foot ain't got no sense, and they ain't no use wastein' time tryin' to figure out why they does things, cause they generally don't know their selves. For instance, why should an object like Rudwell Shapely Jr. come to Goshen, I wanted to know? I asked him once, point blank, and he says it was a primitive urge to see life in the raw, whatever that means. I thought maybe he was talkin' about Grubb, but the cook at the Laramie restaurant says he takes his beef steaks well done like the rest of us. Well, anyway, I got onto my house, Captain Kidd, and pulled for Warhoop, which laid some miles west of Goshen. I warn't wastein' no time, because the quicker I got Gloria LaVenor to Goshen, the quicker I'd have a clear field with Betty. Of course it would've been easier and quicker just to shoot Biz, but I didn't know how Betty'd take it. Women is funny that way. I figured to eat dinner at the Halfway House, a tavern which stood on the prairie about Halfway between Goshen and Warhoop, but as I approached it I met a most peculiar lookin' object headin' east. I presently recognized it as a cowboy named Tump Garrison, and he looked like he'd been through a sorghum mill. His half brim was pulled loose from the crown and hung around his neck like a collar. His clothes hung in rags. His face was skint all over, and one ear showed signs of havin' been chawed on long and earnestly. "'Where was the tornado?' I asked, pullin' up. He'd give me a suspicious look out of the eye he could still see with. "'Oh, it's you, Breck,' he says then. "'My brains is so addled I didn't recognize you at first.' "'In fact,' says he, tenderly caressing a lump on his head the size of a turkey egg. "'It's just a few minutes ago I managed to remember my own name.' "'What happened?' I asked with interest. "'I ain't sure,' says he, spittin' out two or three loose tushes. "'Least wise, I ain't sure just what happened after that their table-like was shattered over my head. Things is a little foggy after that, but up to that time my memory is flawless.' "'Briefly, Breck,' says he, rising in his stirrups to rub his pants where they was the print of a boot-heel, "'I discovered that I warn't welcome at the Halfway House, and big as you be, I advise you to avoid it like you would the yellow jandice. "'It's a public tavern,' I says. "'It was,' says he, workin' his right leg to see if it was still in giant. "'It was to Amuse Harrison, the buffalo-hunter, a rogue there to hold a private celebration of his own. He don't like cattle, nor them which handles them. He told me so his self just before he hit me with the bung-starter. He said he weren't aimin' to be pestered by no darn Texas cattle-pushers whilst he's enjoyin' a little relaxation. It was just after issue a misstatement that he'd throwed me through the roulette-wheel. "'You ain't from Texas,' I said. "'You're from the nations.' "'That's what I told him whilst he was doin' a war dance on my brisket,' says Trump. But he said he was too broad-minded to bother with technicalities. Anyway, he says Cowboys was the plague of the range, irregardless of where they'd come from. "'Oh, he did, did he?' I says irritably. "'Well, I ain't huntin' trouble. I'm on an errand of mercy. But he'd better not shoot off his big mouth to me. I eat my dinner at the Halfway House, irregardless of all the buffalo hunters north of the Semeron. I'd give a dollar to see the fun,' says Trump. But my other eyes closedin' fast, and I got to get amongst friends. So he pulled for Goshen, and I rode on to the Halfway House, where I seen a big bay-hos tied to the hitch-rack. I watered Captain Kidd and went in. "'Sss,' the bartender says, "'get out quick as you can. Moose Harrison's asleep in the back room.' "'I'm hungry,' I responded, settin' down at a table which stood nigh the bar. "'Bring me a steak with potatoes and onions and a quart of coffee and a can of clean peaches. And whilst the stuff's cookin', give me nine or ten bottles of beer to wash the dust out of my gullet.' "'Listen,' says the barkeep, "'reflect and consider. Your young in life is sweet. Don't you know that Moose Harrison is pisoned at anything that looks like a cow-puncher? When he's on a whiskey tear as at present, he's more painter than human. He's killed more mint. Will you stop blattin' and bring me my rations?' I requested. He shakes his head, sad-like, and says, "'Well, all right. After all, it's your hide. At least try not to make no racket.' He swore to have the lifeblood of anybody which wakes him up.' I said I didn't want no trouble with nobody. And he tiptoed back to the kitchen and whispered my order to the cook, then brung me nine or ten bottles of beer, and slipped back behind the bar and watched me, with morbid fascination. I drunk the beer, and whilst drinkin' I got to kinda broodin' about Moose Harrison havin' the nerve to order everybody to keep quiet whilst he slept. But there liars which claims I throw'd the empty bottles at the door in the back room, a purpose to wake Harrison up. When the waiter brung my grub, I wanted to clear the table to make room for it. So I just kinda tossed the bottles aside. And could I help it if they all busted on the back room door? Was it my fault that Harrison was such a light sleeper? But the bartender moaned and ducked down behind the bar. And the waiter run'd through the kitchen and followed the cook in a sprint across the prairie. And a most remarkable beller burst forth from the back room. The next instant the door was tore off the hinges, and an enormous human came bulging into the bar room. He wore buckskins, his whiskers bristled, and his eyes was red as a drunk command she's. What, intarnation? Were a marty and a voice which cracked the windowpane? Does my gall blasted eyes deceive me? Is that there a cussed cow puncher sittin' there wolfin' beefsteak as brash as if he was a white man? You ride herd on them insults I roared, rise and sudden, and his eyes kinda popped when he seen I was about three inches taller than him. I got as much right here as you have. Name your weapons, blustered he. He had a butcher knife and two six shooters on his belt. Name them yourself, I snorted. If you think you're such a hell-wizard at fist and skull, I shuck your weapon belt and I'll claw your ears off of my bare hands. That suits me, says he. I'll festoon that bar with your innards. And he takes hold of his belt like he was gonna unbuckle it. Then quick as a flash he whipped out a gun. But I was watchin' for that, and my right hand forty-five banged just as his muzzle cleared leather. The barkeep stuck his head up from behind the bar. Heck, he says wild-eyed. You beat Moose Harrison to the draw, and him with the edge. I wouldn't have believed it was possible if I hadn't saw it. But his friends'll ride your trail for this. Weren't it self-defense, I demanded? A clear case, says he. But that won't mean nothin' to them wild and woolly buffalo skinners. You better get back to Goshen where you got friends. I got business in war-hoop, I says. Dang it, my coffee's cold. Dispose of the carcass and heat it up, will ya? So he drug Harrison out, cussin' cause he was so heavy. Claimin' I ought to help him. But I told him it warn't my tavern. I also refused to pay for a decanter which Harrison's wild shot had busted. He got mad and said he hoped the buffalo hunters did hang me. But I told him they'd have to catch me without my guns first, and I slept with him on. Then I finished my dinner and pulled for war-hoop. It was about sundown when I got there, and I was pretty hungry again. But I aimed to see Biz's gal before I'd done anything else. So I put my hawse in the livery's table, and Seanie had a big feed. Then I headed for the silver boot, which is the biggest joint in town. There was plenty hilarity goin' on, but I seen no cowboys. The revelers was mostly gamblers, or buffalo hunters, or soldiers, or freighters. War-hoop warn't popular with cattlemen. They warn't no buyers or loadin' pins there, and for pleasure it warn't nigh as good a town as Goshen anyway. I asked a barman where Ace Middleton was, and he pointed out a big fowler with a generous tummy, decorated with a fancy vest and a gold watch chain about the size of a trace chain. He wore mighty handsome clothes and a diamond-haas shoe stick-pin and waxed mustache. So I went up to him. He looked me over with very little favor. Oh, a cow-puncher, eh? Well, your money's as good as anybody's. Enjoy yourself, but don't get wild. I ain't amen to get wild, I says. I want to see Gloria LaVenor. When I says that, he give a convulsive start and choked on a cigar. Everybody now has stopped laughing and talking and turned to watches. What did you say? He gurgled, gagging up the cigar. Did I honestly hear you asking to see Gloria LaVenor? Sure, I says. I aim to take her back to Goshen to get married. You deleted expletive, says he, and grabbed up a table and broke off a leg and hit me over the head with it. It was most unexpected and took me plum off guard. I hadn't no idea what he was busting the table up for, and I was too surprised to duck. If it hadn't been for my stets in it might have cracked my head. As it was, it talked me back into the crowd, but before I could get my balance, three or four bouncers grabbed me and somebody jerked my pistol out of the scabbard. Throw him out! roared Ace, acting like a wild man. He was plum purple in the face. Steal my girl, will he? Hold him while I bust him in the snoot! He then rushed up and hit me very severely in the nose, whilst them bouncers was holding my arms. Well, up to that time I hadn't made no resistance. I was too astonished, but this was going too far, even if Ace was local, as it appeared. Nobody weren't holding my legs, so I kicked Ace in the stomach, and he curled up on the floor with a strangled shriek. I then started sparing them bouncers in the legs, and they yelled and let go of me. And somebody hit me in the ear with a blackjack. That made me mad. So I retched for my buoy and my boot, but a big red-headed maverick kicked me in the face when I stooped down. That straightened me up, so I hit him on the jaw, and he fell down across Ace, which was holding his stomach and trying to yell for the city marshal. Some low-minded scoundrel got a strangled hold around my neck from behind and started beating me on the head with a pair of brass nooks. I ducked and throwed him over my head, then I kicked out backwards and knocked over a couple more. But a scar-faced thug with a baseball bat got in a full-armed lick about that time, and I went to my knees feeling like my skull was dislocated. Six or seven of them then throwed themselves on to me with howls of joy. And I seen I'd have to use violence in spite of myself. So I drawed my buoy and started cutting my way through them. They couldn't let go of me quicker if I'd been a cougar. They scattered every witch away, splatterin' blood and howlin' blue murder. And I rizz, rarin' and rampacious. Somebody shot at me just then, and I wheeled to locate him when a man run in at the door and pointed a pistol at me. Before I could sling my knife through him, which was my earnest intention, he hollered, drop your deadly weapon. I'm the city marshal and you're under arrest. What for, I demanded. I ain't done nothing. Nothing, says Aves Middleton fiercely as his menials lifted him onto his feet. You've just sliced pieces out of five or six of our leading citizens. And here's my head bouncer, Red Krogan, out cold with a busted jaw, to say nothing of pushing my stomach through my spine. Ow, you must have mule blood in you blaster soul. Sentry, he ordered the marshal. He came in here drunk and raging and threatening, and started a fight for nothing. Do your duty. Arrest that cusset outlaw. Well, Papp always tells me not to never resist no officer of the law. And anyway, the marshal had my gun. And so many people was hollering and cussin' and talkin' it kinda confused me. When he's any thinkin' to be did, I like to have a quiet place to do it, and plenty of time. So the first thing I knowed, Sentry had handcuffs on me and he hauls me off down the street with a big crowd fallin' makin' remarks which is supposed to be funny. They come to a log hut with bars on the back window, take off the handcuffs, shove me in and lock the door. There I was in jail without even seein' Gloria Levinner. It was plum-disgustful. The crowd all hustled back to the silver boot to watch them fellers get sewed up which had fell a foul of my buoy. All but one fat cuss which said he was a guard. And he sat down in the front of the jail, with a double-barreled shotgun across his lap, and went to sleep. Well, there weren't nothin' in the jail but a bunk with a husk blanket on it, and a wooden bench. The bunk was too short for me to sleep on with any comfort, bein' built for a six-foot man, so I sat down on it and waited for someone to bring me some grub. So after a while the marsh'll come and looked in at the window and cussed me. It's a good thing for you, he says, that you didn't kill none of them fellers. As it is, maybe we won't hang you. You won't have to hang me if you don't bring me some grub pretty soon, I says. Are you going to let me starve in this darn jail? We don't encourage crime in our town by feeding criminals, he says. If you want grub, give me the money to buy it with. I told him I didn't have but five bucks and I thought I'd pay him a fine with that. He said five bucks wouldn't begin to pay him a fine, so I give him the five spot to buy grub with, and he took it and went off. I waited and waited, but he didn't come. I hollered to the guard, but he kept on snoring. And pretty soon someone said, psst, at the window. I went over and looked out, and they was a woman standing behind the jail. The moon had come up over the prairie as bright as day, and though she had a cloak with a hood throwed over her, by what I could see of her face she was awful pretty. I'm Gloria Levinner, says she. I'm risking my life coming here, but I wanted to get a look at the man who was crazy enough to tell Ace Middleton he wanted to see me. What's crazy about that, I asked. Don't you know Ace has killed three men already for trying to flirt with me, says she. Any man who can break red Krogan's jaw like you did must be a bear cat, but it was sheer madness to tell Ace you wanted to marry me. Ah, he never give me time to explain about that, I says. It weren't me which wants to marry you. But what business is it of Middletons? This here's a free country. That's what I thought till I started working for him, she says bitterly. He fell in love with me, and he's so insanely jealous he won't let anyone even speak to me. He keeps me practically a prisoner and watches me like a hawk. I can't get away from him. Nobody in town dares to help me. They won't even rent me a horse at the livery's table. You see, Ace owns most of the town, and lots of people are in debt to him. The rest are afraid of him. I guess I'll have to spend the rest of my life under his thumb, she says despairfully. You won't neither, I says. As soon as I can get word to my friends in Goshen to send me alone to pay my fine and get me out of this fool jail, I'll take you to Goshen where your true love is pining for you. My true love, says she, kind of startled like. What do you mean? Biz Ridgway is in Goshen, I says. He don't dare come after you, his self. So he sent me to fetch you. She didn't say nothing for a spell, and then she spoke kind of breathless. All right. I must get back to the silver boot now, or Ace will miss me and start looking for me. I'll find Santry and pay your fine tonight. When he lets you out, come to the back door of the silver boot and wait in the alley. I'll come to you there as soon as I can slip away. So I said all right, and she went away. The guard sitting in front of the jail with his shotgun across his knees hadn't ever woke up. But he did wake up about fifteen minutes after she left. A gang of men came up the street, whooping and cussing, and he jumped to his feet. Curses! Here comes Brent Hansen and the mob of them buffalo hunters, and they got a rope. They're heading for the jail. Who do you reckon they're after, I inquired? They ain't nobody in jail but you, he suggested pointedly. And in about a minute they ain't gonna be nobody nigh it, but you and them. When Hansen and his bunches and liquor, they don't care who they shoot. He then laid down a shotgun, and lit a shuck down a back alley as hard as he could leg it. So about a dozen buffalo hunters and buckskins and whiskers come surging up to the jail and kicked on the door. They couldn't get the door open so they went around behind the shack and looked in at the winder. It's him all right, says one of them. Let's shoot him through the winder. But the other said, nah, let's do the job in proper order. And I asked them what they wanted. We aims to hang you, they answered enthusiastically. You can't do that, I says. It's again the law. You killed Moose Harrison, said the biggest one which they called Hansen. Well, it was an even break, and he tried to get the drop on me, I says. Then Hansen says, enough of such quibbling. We've made up our mind to hang you so let's don't hear no more arguments about it. Here, he says to his pals, tie a rope to the bars and we'll jerk the whole winder out. It'll be easier than busting down the door. And hustle up, because I'm in a hurry to get back to that poker game at the rare and buffalo. So they tied a rope onto the bars and all laid onto it and heaved and grunted. Some of the bars come loose at one end. I picked up the bench aiming to bust their full skulls with it as they clumped through the winder. But just then another fella run up. Wait, boys, he hollered. Don't waste your muscle. I'd just seen Santry down at the Topeka Queen gambling with the money he'd taken off that darn cowboy, and he'd give me the key to the door. So they abandoned the winder and surged round to the front of the jail, and I quickly propped the bench again the door and run to the winder and tore out them bars which is already loose. I could hear them rattling at the door and as I clumped through the winder one of them said, the locks turned but the door stuck. Heave again it. So whilst they have I run around the jail and pick up the guard's shotgun where he dropped it when he run off. Just then the bench give way inside and the door flew open, and all them fellers tried to crowd through. As a result, they was all jammed up in the door and cussing something fierce. Quick crowding yelled Hanson. Holy catamount, he's gone. The jail's empty. I then up with my shotgun and give them both barrels and the seat of their britches which was the handiest to aim at, and they led out a most amazing squall and busted loose and fell head first into the jail. Some of them kept on going head down like they'd started and hit the back wall so hard it knocked them stiff, and the others fell over them. They was all tangled up in a pile cussing and yelling to beat the devil. So I slammed the door and locked it and run around behind the jail-house. Hanson was trying to climb out the window so I hit him over the head with my shotgun and he fell back inside and hollered. Help! I'm mortally injured! Shut up that unseemly clamor, I said sternly. Ain't none of you hurt bad. Throw your guns out the window and lay down on the floor. Hustle before I give you another blast through the window. They didn't know the shotgun was empty, so they throwed their weapons out in a hurry and lay down, but they weren't quiet about it. They seemed to consider they'd been subjected to cruel and unusual treatment, and the bird-shot and their sterns must have been a stingin' right smart, because the language they used was plumb painful to hear. I stuck a couple of their pistols in my belt. If one of you shows you's head at that window within an hour, I says he'll get it blowed off. I then snuck back into the shatters and headed for the livery stable. The livery stableman was reading a newspaper by a lantern, and he looked surprised and said he thought I was in jail. I ignored this remark and told him to hitch me a fast haust to a buckboard whilst I saddled Captain Kidd. Wait a minute, says he. I here tell you told a smidleton you aimed to elope with Gloria Levinner. You'd taken this rig for her? Yes, I am, I says. Well, I'm a friend of Middletons, he says, and I won't wrench in no rig under no circumstances. Then get out of my way, I said. I'll hitch the haust up myself. He then draw'd a buoy so I clenched with him, and as we was rastlin' around he sort of knocked his head against the swingle-tree I happened to have in my hand at the time and collapses with a low gurgle. So I tied him up and rolled him under an oatsman. I also rolled out a buckboard and hitched the best-lookin' harness hausts I could find to it, and then folks' liars, which is goin' around sayin' I stole that there outfit, it was sent back later. I saddled my hausts and tied him on behind the buckboard and got in and started for the silver boot, wonderin' how long it'd take them fool buffalo hunters to find out I was just bluffin' and weren't lyin' out behind the jail to shoot'em as they climbed out. I turned into the alley which run behind the silver boot, then tied the hausts and went up to the back door and peeked in. Gloria was there. She grabbed me and I could feel her tremblin'. I thought you'd never come, she whispered. It'll be time for my singin' act again in just a few minutes. I've been waitin' here ever since I paid Sandra your fine. What kept you so long? He left the silver boot as soon as I gave him money. He never turned me out to load down skunk, I muttered. Some, uh, friends got me out. Come on, get in the buckboard. I helped her up and give her the lines. I got a debt to settle before I leave town, I said. You go on and wait for me at that clump of cottonwoods east of town. I'll be on pretty soon. So she pulled out in a hurry and I got on to Captain Kidd. I rode him round to the front of the silver boot, tied him to the hitch-rack and dismounted. The silver boot was crowded. I could see Ace struttin' around, jawin' a big black cigar, and jokin' and slappin' folks on the back. Everybody was havin' such a hilarious time nobody noticed me as I stood in the bar way. So I pulled the Buffalo Hunters forty-fives and let BAM at the mirror behind the bar. The barman yelped and ducked the flying glass and everybody whirled and gaited. And Ace jerked his cigar out of his mouth and bawled, It's that turd-cow-puncher again! Get him! But them bouncers had seen my guns and they was shyin' away, all except the scar-faced thug which had hit me with the bat, and he whipped a gun from under his vest. So I shot him through the right shoulder and he fell over behind the Monty Table. I begun to spray the crowd with hot lead, free and generous, and they stampeded every which away. Some went through the window, glass and all, and some went out the side doors, and some busted down the back door in their flight. I likewise riddled the mirror behind the bar and shot down some of the hangin' lamps and busted most of the bottles on the shelves. Ace ducked behind a stack of beer-kegs and opened a fire on me, but he showed poor judgment in not noticing he was right under a hangin' lamp. I shot it off the ceiling and it fell down on his head, and you ought to have heard him holler when the burnin' aisle run down his whiffless neck. He come prancing into the open, wiping his neck with one hand and trying to shoot me with the other, and I drilled him through the hind leg. He fell down and bellard like a bull with its tail coched in a fence gate. "'You turned, murderer,' says he passionately. "'How have your life for this?' "'Shut up, I snarled. I'm just paying you back for all the pain and humiliation I suffered in this din of iniquity.' At this moment a bartender rizz up from behind a billiard table with a sought-off shotgun, but I shot it out of his hands before he could cock it, and he fell over backwards holler and spare my life. Just then somebody yelled, "'Halt in the name of the law!' and I looked around and saw it was that tin-horned marshal named Santry with a gun in his hand. "'I arrest you again,' he bawled. "'Lay down your weapons.' "'I'll lay your carcass down,' I responded. "'You ain't fittin' for it to be no law officer. "'You gambled away the five dollars I give you for grub, and you took the fine money Miss Levenner gave you, and didn't turn me out, and you give the key to the mobsters which wanted to hang me. "'You ain't no law. You're a dirt-out law yourself. "'Now you got a gun in your hand same as me. "'Either start shootin' or throw it down.'" Well, he hollered, "'Don't shoot!' and throwed it down and histed his hands. I seen he had my knife and pistol stuck in his belt, so I took them off of him, and tossed the forty-fives I'd been used on to the billiard table, and said, "'Give these back to the buffalo hunters.'" But just then he whipped out a thirty-eight he was wearing under his arm and shot at me, and knocked my head off. Then he turned and run around the end of the bar, all bent over to get his head below it. So I grabbed the bartender's shotgun and let bam with both barrels, just as his rear end was going out of sight. He shrieked blue ruin, and started havin' a fit behind the bar. So I throwed the shotgun through the roulette wheel and stalked forth, leaving ace and the bouncer in the marshal, wailing and wallerin' on the floor. It was plum-disgustful the way they wept and cussed over their trifle and injuries. I'd come out on the street so sudden that then cusses, which was hidein' behind the hostroft to shoot me as I come out, was took by surprise, and only grazed me in a few places. So I throwed a few slugs amongst them and they took to their heels. I got on Captain Kidd and headed east down the street, ignoring the shots fired at me from the alleys and windows. That is, I ignored him except to shoot back at him as I run. And I reckon that's how the mayor got the lobe of his ears shot off. I thought I heard somebody holler when I answered a shot fired at me from behind the mayor's board fence. Well, when I got to the clump of cotton-woods, there weren't no sign of Gloria, the Hoss, or the Buckboard. But there was a note stuck up on a tree which I grabbed and read by the light of the moon. It said, Dear Tejano, your friend must have been kidding you. I never even knew anybody named Biz Ridgway, but I'm takin' this chance of gettin' away from Ace. I'm heading for Trevano Springs, and I'll send the Buckboard back from there. Thank you for everything. Gloria LaVenter. I got to Goshen about sunup, having loped all the way. Biz Ridgway was at the bar of the Spanish Mustang, and when he seen me, he turned pale and dived for the winder, but I grabbed him. What you mean by tellin' me that lie about you and Gloria LaVenter, I demanded? Was you tryin' to get me killed? Well, says he, to tell you the truth, Brack, I was. All's fair in love and war, you know. I wanted to get you out of the way, so I'd have a clear field with Betty Wilkinson, had a note about Ace Middleton and Gloria, and figured he'd do the job if I sent you over there. But you needn't get mad. It didn't do me no good. Betty's already married. What? I yelled. He ducked instinctively. Yeah, he says. He took advantage of your absence to pop the question, and she accepted him, and they're on their way to Kansas City for their honeymoon. He never had the nerve to ask her while you was in town, for fear you'd shoot him. They're going to live in the East, because he's too scared of you to come back. Who, I screamed, foaming slightly at the mouth. Rudwell's shapely junior, says he. It's all your fault. It was at this moment that I dislocated Biz Ridgway's hind leg. I likewise defies the criticism which has been directed at this perfectly natural action on Elkins, with a busted heart, is no man to trifle with. End of Texas John Alden. End of Bear Creek Collection, Volume 2.