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Authors: Frederick Manfred

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BOOK: King of Spades
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“I don't see that thirteen-year-old pokie around,” Sam said, looking at the girls. “She busy?”

“Why?”

“I thought maybe she'd be more the kid's speed.”

“She up and married on me.”

“Too bad.” Sam gave his beard a tug. “By the way, just what are you chargin' for tricks these days?”

Kate eased Sam off with a warm smile. “The usual. But don't you want a shot of Wisdom River first? Warm up a little?”

“Some red American whiskey will suit me just fine at that.”

Kate clapped her hands. “Tidbit? Man the bar.”

The shortest girl there, well under five feet, as pert as a kewpie, moving with all the slimness of a nymph, got busy behind a mahogany bar at the far end of the sitting room.

“Hey, where's your old barkeep Horses?” Sam said.

“Horses I had to let go.”

“How come?”

“Two of my girls got to fighting over him. Sulie and Rut. And I had to choose between them and him.”

“Good for old Horses.”

“Then too, he was always starting fights with the customers. Stud jealousy, I suspect. Because since I let him go, I've had no more brawls. Not one.”

Sam nodded. “I suppose he's skipped the country?”

“No. He's joined the Army.”

“The U.S. Army?”

“Yes. Here. Fort Russell outside town here.”

“Naw!”

“In charge of the Army's mules.”

“Naw!”

“Colonel Bullock says he's the best mule man they ever had.”

Sam regarded her suspicious. “You talk to the Colonel much?”

“He has a pet here.”

“It's not you?”

“It's Lava Black.”

“That's better.” Sam threw Ransom a glittering look. “Well, Sir Jesus Horatio Christ, you gonna join me in a drink?”

Ransom shook his head.

Sam threw up his hands. “You see, Kate, what did I tell you? I show him where to find the honeypot and this is what he does with it. I'm afeared I raised me a pisswillie. A missionary maybe even.”

“Let him be, Sam. A bee gets drunk on honey soon enough.” Kate gave Ransom another touch on the arm.

Nervous, Ransom touched his right hand to his right eye. “I'll take some sarsaparilla.”

Kate clapped her small hands, once. “Tidbit, you heard the man.”

The three of them sat together on a red hair sofa near the bar, Ransom on the right, Sam on the left, Kate in the middle, their feet resting on a thick green Brussels carpet. In a corner one of the girls began to dream on a Barbary organ, lightly, romantically.

Ransom's eyes kept going back to Kate. He sipped his sarsaparilla slowly. He fingered and rolled the tips of his gambler mustache.

Sam drank up his tumbler of red whiskey with a flourish and immediately ordered another. He gave Tidbit a gold piece. The sofa groaned under his stirring bulk.

Kate sat closer to Ransom than to Sam. Her eyes kept sliding off to examine Ransom covertly. She kept spiffing herself up a little, slyly, a touch to the hair, a wet fingertip to the brow.

Sam wasn't blind. “Kid, how do you do it?”

“I don't get you.”

“Since her whorehouse burned down in Denver, I ain't never seen Kate so feisty.”

Kate said, “Come, come, Sam, it was my cowboys' rest you meant, wasn't it now?”

“Hell, no. I meant your whorehouse.”

“Shh, now.”

“Kid, trying to get Kate to open up is sometimes like trying to open a river clam with a blade of grass.”

“Why don't you try tickling with your blade of grass, Sam, instead of trying to force your way in,” Kate said.

A flutter of laughter came from the hovering pigeons.

Sam drank up again and ordered a third red whiskey.

Ransom still sipped on his first drink. He smiled at everything Kate said. He sometimes smiled so deep the muscles over his cheekbones hurt.

Sam rolled his massive hairy head. “Aw, Kate, I'm plainly jealous of the kid, that I am. He's young and fresh, with everything still in front of him. But since you're too old for him anyway, and are more made for me, what do you say this time? Ready to skin that onion with me at last?”

Kate gave Sam a soft bland smile.

Sam set his red whiskey down on the arm of the hair sofa. “Aw, Kate, I favor you.” Suddenly Sam put his cumbering bear arm around her and handled her like she might be a bundle of wheat. “I favor you.” He hugged her so hard that a sound came from her chest like a suddenly closed concertina. “I've beat on your door, and pounded on it, and yet I've just never had me the right key to open your lock. By God, if you don't open up to me pretty soon, I'm gonna have to tromp your door down, Kate.”

“Sam, please!”

“Kate, I favor you.” Whiskey tears filmed Sam's bear eyes. “Kate, girl.”

Kate managed to free an arm and then grabbed Sam's glass of whiskey before it spilled onto the floor. “Sam! You're letting your nose get out of joint now. Be careful.” Kate still
had a soft bland smile for Sam, but her voice had turned chilly.

Ransom couldn't see for a moment. Red blankets seemed to have dropped down across his eyes. He tried to remember that Sam was his father and uncle and brother all rolled into one.

Kate said, “Sam, you know that's impossible for me. You of all people know this.”

Sam gave a little cry, and swallowed over his pride, and after a bit let her go.

“That's better.” Kate winked at Tidbit. “Another round for the boys. On the house this time.”

From the back of the house came some scuffling, then laughter. A moment later a door to the rear opened and a cowboy and one of the girls sauntered in. The cowboy had a leached-out look around the eyes and the girl, a Mexican, was flushed. The cowboy was still sweet on her, and he clung to her hand.

A firm look passed from Kate to the Mexican girl.

The girl immediately withdrew her hand.

The cowboy was hurt. “Aw, honey…” He reached for her hand again.

Kate said crisply, “Jamie boy, it's turn and turn about here, you know. Unless you care to pay double.”

Sam woke up. “Hey. Ain't that Little Coyote? The one I've heard so much about? Why, I've even heard tell of her on Pike's Peak.”

“Could be, Sam.”

“Gives you as purty a waddle across a sheet as any duck alive today.”

Upon a hint from Kate, Little Coyote threw another discouraging look at her cowboy; then worked up a little house smile for Sam.

The downcast cowboy left.

Sam threw a last sad look at Kate. “When all's said and done, it's really all one and the same thing, ain't it?” Sam got up
and went over and put his great arm around Little Coyote. “C'mon, you little prairie wolf, let's you and I dig us a den on the other side of the hill.”

Kate smiled approvingly.

Sam waved the flat of his hand against Kate and disappeared into the rear of the house with Little Coyote.

Kate and Ransom exchanged smiles.

A moment later there was a thunderbolt of a knock on the door.

“Horses!” Kate exclaimed, bounding to her feet. Her carven Indian lips turned white.

Ransom came to his feet too. “Where? Who?” His right hand fell naturally to the butt of his gun.

“Close the bar, Tidbit!” Kate hurried to the front door. She moved with long almost leaping strides. “Hurry.”

Tidbit pulled one handle, then another, and two sliding doors came out of the wall and in the flick of an eye completely hid the bar.

Two other girls, Hermie and Frankie, both braw and strong, rushed to Kate's side. Their chins were suddenly hard.

The rest of the girls quickly dashed into the rear of the house.

Kate got her hands on the bar to the door all right, but before she could slam it to, the big oak door swung inward and brushed her aside as if she were a whisk broom.

“Horses! Oh you! Now, no rough stuff now.”

A shaggy stud of a man, black hair pluming straight up, heavy nose ridging high between black eyes, lunged around to face her. He was dressed in Army blue. His black boots looked more like hoofs than human footwear. “Luv!”

“Now, Horses, you just be civilized now. You hear me? No roughhousing. Civilized.”

“Kate, you know I can't be civetlike.”

“Civilized, I said. Not civet cat.” Kate moved back from Horses a good half-dozen steps, imperious, single eye glittering darkly.
The two braw girls flanked her. “You're drunk, Horses. Go home and sleep it off.”

Ransom edged over in case Kate should need him.

“Horses, please now.”

“Luv, I've missed you so.” Horses had more of a neigh than a voice.

“You go home or I'll call the Colonel.”

“Why, I ain't done nothin' yet, Kate.”

“I know you.”

Horses worked to get both his black eyes focused on Kate; finally managed it. “Luv, you know you promised me I could come once in a while.”

“You're a liar.”

Horses reared back. “Liar, you say?” Horses reflected. “Well, maybe I sometimes do lie. But, by God, nobody's ever caught me at it. Not yet, anyway. Nosiree. Not even the Colonel.”

Kate had to laugh. “Horses, please now, go home.”

“Luv.”

“Look, dearie. The girl you like, Ivory, is with a friend just now. Come back later and I'll let you visit her a little. On the house.”

Horses held his head to one side. “Kate, you know I think Ivory is perfectly beautiful, with the exception that her mouth is a little crooked. Which comes from reaching after all them high notes when her heart ain't in it.”

Again Kate had to laugh. Sometimes the remarks that originated in his huge horse of a head could be as piercing as horse radish. If only he had a bit more horse sense. “And your other two admirers, Sulie and Rut, they're busy entertaining two other friends just now.”

“Aw, shucks, Kate, I never did care for Sulie or Rut none.”

“Well, I'm just telling you, is all.”

“Luv.” Horses made a sudden plunge for Kate.

Ransom took a quick step forward and tripped Horses.

Horses plowed nose first through a row of chairs on the far side of the sitting room. Four of the chairs tipped over.

Silence.

Horses lay like a big overturned boat, unmoving.

Kate had a smile for Ransom. “Thank you.”

“Hope I didn't kill him.”

“Horses? Never.”

“Looks pretty quiet to me.”

“Pah. He's been known to run down telegraph poles, and get up off the ground none the worse for it.”

Sam came in. Alone. Subdued. His brown bear eyes looked around uneasy.

A high light sparked in Ransom's green eyes. He couldn't help but stick it into Sam a little. “Well, and how was the neat little trick that makes the world go roun'?”

“Shut up.”

Kate acted surprised. “You didn't find it satisfactory?”

“It was as flat as mouse urine on a plate.”

The light in Ransom's green eyes continued to shine derisive. “You didn't get to dig that den on the other side of the hill then?”

“She didn't even begin to take the boil out of my blood.” Sam's beard twitched. “I still say, Kate, you was made for me, and someday you'll be mine.”

“Sam.”

Sam banged his chest with a fist. “By God, woman, Sam Slaymaker will even marry you, if that's your wish.”

“Sam, Sam.”

“I'm still making you the offer. And I'm baiting it with gold. Gold, you hear? Gold, gold!”

A groan came from behind the fallen chairs. Then came a single word. “Luv.”

Sam hauled up short. “Hey, look who's here.”

“Yes, dear old Horses has paid us a call.”

“ Luv ”

“What's that he says?”


Luv.”

Sam thickened. “By God, who's he calling Luv?”

“Ivory.”

“Oh. That's different.”

“Luv.”

Sam went over and gave Horses a kick in the butt. “Get up, you two-inch fool. Who you holding down on the floor there, the mayor's wife again?”

“The mayor's wife?” Kate said.

Sam let go with a wild horse laugh. “Oh, down on the Des Moines once, Horses made a woman get down on her back in the bottom of his boat before he would row her across. Horses ran a ferry there.”

“Why, the dirty old fool.”

“Yeh, Horses is quite a Horses all right.” Again Sam gave Horses a kick in the butt. “Get up, you brain-broke stud you, or your life won't be worth a gooser.”

Horses, groaning, finally managed to get up on all fours, then on all two. He threw back his black hair, adjusted his six-shooter, and glared at Kate. The brass buttons on his blue uniform glowed. “You know, luv, more and more you're turning out to be a mean old hag of a thing.”

“Now, Horses, dearie.”

“And your tongue's got to be about as dangerous as a barrage of arrows.”

A thought came to Kate. “Horses, I wonder, me and the boys were about to sit down to a couple of hands…. You wouldn't want to … ah …?”

Gambling fever instantly flashed in Horses' eyes. Horses rolled back on his heels. “Draw?” Horses made little crinching noises between his thumb and forefinger.

“Draw.” Kate threw a look at Sam and Ransom. “You still want to sit down to a little game, boys?”

Sam went along with her little ploy. Sam pursed his lips in his beard. “Aw, Kate, you know how I hate to take Horses' money away from him. It's like taking it from a little kid.”

“Ho ho!” Horses roared. “We'll see about that.”

Gambling fever also awoke in Ransom. He had never been able to resist the fascination of the luck of the draw, and ever since his first game in Denver, when he and Sam had been cleaned out by a mustached slicker, had worked hard at becoming an expert at cards. He had even learned how to play his hunches well when he wasn't sure of his averages.

BOOK: King of Spades
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