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Episode Eleven
concluded with:
“You
ain’t too particular about your friends. That guy is a sharper; I spotted that
the moment he walked in.”
“How about the other two?”
“Woody Farnsworth, the guy accusing Fancy Dan of being a cheat, has a real
temper but he rarely draws a gun. The man sitting across from him is Slade
Pierson, a gunslick. Or he wants to be.”
All the patrons of the Lucky Miner were now watching the drama being played out
at the poker table. Most were keeping a safe distance, but Dehner took a few
steps closer to the table. He had to brace Stacey Hooper. The detective mused
to himself that his profession did lead to odd friendships.
Episode Twelve
Stacey Hooper was adorned in a
lavish gray frock coat with black bordering at the end of the sleeves, nicely
complimented by his large silver cuff links. He had black hair, green eyes, and
a face that always appeared amused even when he was in a dispute, as the
gambler was now. “That’s quite enough, Mr. Farnsworth. Out of respect for the
rest of your family, whom I am sure are decent, God fearing people, I have
refrained from making a public spectacle of the fact that you are guilty of the
very offense with which you have charged me.”
“Is that
so? Prove it, sharper!” Farnsworth was a large man with a pale complexion from
too much time spent inside mines and inside saloons. He was carrying a gun, as
was Slade Pierson. No gun was visible on Stacey Hooper’s body but Dehner was
certain it was there.
Hooper
looked around the saloon and smiled benignly, then addressed his accuser. “I
shall proceed to roll up my sleeves if you promise to do the same.”
Farnsworth
hesitated. His eyes shot across the table. “Sure. Why, Slade will tell ya, I’m
as honest as they come. Ain’t that right, Slade? Now, Mr. Gambler, you just
watch.”
Dehner
palmed his Colt and pressed it into the back of Slade’s neck. “Drop the gun,
friend.You’re singing an old song and
I don’t want to hear it.”
“Sure stranger.” Whiskey marred
Pierson’s effort at sounding casual.
The
detective was ready as Slade turned to fire. Dehner slammed his Colt against
the gunslick’s head. Pierson yelled in pain and hit the floor, face first. Rance
quickly retrieved the gun his victim had dropped, then looked up and saw Stacey
Hooper on his feet with a pistol in hand.
“Gentlemen,
this unfortunate incident has left us too distracted to continue. Depart, Mr. Farnsworth, and take your
over-zealous friend with you.” Stacy nodded toward the groaning figure on the
floor. “But tomorrow is another day. If
you wish to win back your losses, I shall be here and happy to oblige.”
The gambler
put away his gun and scooped the money from the table as Woody Farnsworth
helped Slade to his feet. Dehner emptied the cartridges from Pierson’s gun and
handed it to Farnsworth. Woody Farnsworth and the gunslick left, muttering low
curses. Dehner didn’t holster his gun until they were gone.
“You’re
getting a bit careless, Stacey,” Rance said.
“Please
elaborate,” The gambler replied. “You know how highly I value the insights of
the west’s finest detective.”
“Travelling
gamblers are a target in a small place like Hard Stone,” Rance explained, as
the saloon patrons returned to their fun. “If a well-dressed dude cleans them
out, one man provokes a fight while the other one plugs the gambler. That way
they get their money back and a good story to talk about the next day.”
“And no one
cares about the fate of the itinerant gambler.” Hooper shook his head. “Plato
was right. The masses well deserve the designation of ‘beast’.”
A broad
smile swept across Stacey Hooper’s face. “But why dwell on life’s little
shortcomings? You just saved my life, good friend.” Stacey motioned to the bartender,
“Two beers, please!”
Rance
immediately noticed that his friend had simply ordered the beers. He had not
mentioned paying for them. Dehner smiled inwardly. Stacey Hooper hadn’t changed
one bit.
Tomorrow: Episode Thirteen of Last Job
