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Authors: Charles Portis

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BOOK: True Grit
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"Maybe I will throw in with you and your marshal."

"You will have to talk to Rooster Cogburn about that."

"It will be to our mutual advantage. He knows the land and I know Chelmsford. It is at least a two-man job to take him alive."

"Well, it is nothing to me one way or the other except that when we do get Chaney he is not going to Texas, he is coming back to Fort Smith and hang.

"Haw haw," said LaBoeuf. "It is not important where he hangs, is it?"

"It is to me. Is it to you?"

"It means a good deal of money to me. Would not a hanging in Texas serve as well as a hanging in Arkansas?"

"No, You said yourself they might turn him loose down there. This judge will do his duty."

"If they don't hang him we will shoot him. I can give you my word as a Ranger on that."

"I want Chaney to pay for killing my father and not some Texas bird dog."

"It will not be for the dog, it will be for the senator, and your father too. He will be just as dead that way, you see, and pay for all his crimes at once."

"No, I do not see. That is not the way I look at it."

"I will have a conversation with the marshal."

"It's no use talking to him. He is working for me. He must do as I say."

"I believe I will have a conversation with him all the same."

I realized I had made a mistake by opening up to this stranger. I would have been more on my guard had he been ugly instead of nice-looking. Also my mind was soft and not right from being doped by the bile activator.

I said, "You will not have a conversation with him for a few days at any rate."

"How is that?"

"He has gone to Little Rock."

"On what business?"

"Marshal business."

"Then I will have a conversation with him when he returns."

"You will be wiser to get yourself another marshal. They have aplenty of them. I have already made an arrangement with Rooster Cogburn."

"I will look into it," said he. "I think your mother would not approve of your getting mixed up in this kind of enterprise. She thinks you are seeing about a horse. Criminal investigation is sordid and dangerous and is best left in the hands of men who know the work."

"I suppose that is you. Well, if in four months I could not find Tom Chaney with a mark on his face like banished Cain I would not undertake to advise others how to do it."

"A saucy manner does not go down with me."

"I will not be bullied."

He stood up and said, "Earlier tonight I gave some thought to stealing a kiss from you, though you are very young, and sick and unattractive to boot, but now I am of a mind to give you five or six good licks with my belt."

"One would be as unpleasant as the other," I replied. "Put a hand on me and you will answer for it. You are from Texas and ignorant of our ways but the good people of Arkansas do not go easy on men who abuse women and children."

"The youth of Texas are brought up to be polite and to show respect for their elders."

"I notice people of that state also gouge their horses with great brutal spurs."

"You will push that saucy line too far."

"I have no regard for you."

He was angered and thus he left me, clanking away in all his Texas trappings.

*

I rose early the next morning, somewhat improved though still wobbly on my feet. I dressed quickly and made haste to the post office without waiting for breakfast. The mail had come in but it was still being sorted and the delivery window was not yet open.

I gave a shout through the slot where you post letters and brought a clerk to the window. I identified myself and told him I was expecting a letter of an important legal nature. He knew of it through Mrs. Floyd's inquiries and he was good enough to interrupt his regular duties to search it out. He found it in a matter of minutes.

I tore it open with impatient fingers. There it was, the notarized release (money in my pocket!), and a letter from Lawyer Daggett as well.

The letter ran thus:

My Dear Mattie:
I trust you will find the enclosed document satisfactory. I wish you would leave these matters entirely to me or, at the very least, do me the courtesy of consulting me before making such agreements. I am not scolding you but I am saying that your headstrong ways will lead you into a tight corner one day.
That said, I shall concede that you seem to have driven a fair bargain with the good colonel. I know nothing of the man, of his probity or lack of same, but I should not give him this release until I had the money in hand. I feel sure you have taken his measure.
Your mother is bearing up well but is much concerned for you and anxious for your speedy return. I join her in that. Fort Smith is no place for a young girl alone, not even a "Mattie." Little Frank is down with an earache but of course that is no serious matter. Victoria is in fine fettle. It was thought best that she not attend the funeral.
Mr. MacDonald is still away on his deer hunt and Mr. Hardy was pressed into service to preach Frank's funeral, taking his text from the 16th chapter of John, "I have overcome the world." I know Mr. Hardy is not much esteemed for his social qualities but he is a good man in his way and no one can say he is not a diligent student of the Scriptures. The Danville lodge had charge of the graveside service. Needless to say, the whole community is shocked and grieved. Frank was a rich man in friends.
Your mother and I shall expect you to take the first train home when you have concluded your business with the colonel. You will wire me immediately with regard to that and we shall look for you in a day or two. I should like to get Frank's estate through probate without delay and there are important matters to be discussed with you. Your mother will make no decision without you, nor will she sign anything, not even common receipts; hence nothing can move forward until you are here. You are her strong right arm now, Mattie, and you are a pearl of great price to me, but there are times when you are an almighty trial to those who love you. Hurry home! I am
Thine Truly,
Jno. Daggett

If you want anything done right you will have to see to it yourself every time. I do not know to this day why they let a wool-hatted crank like Owen Hardy preach the service. Knowing the Gospel and preaching it are two different things. A Baptist or even a Campbellite would have been better than him. If I had been home I would never have permitted it but I could not be in two places at once.

Stonehill was not in a quarrelsome mood that morning, indeed he was not snorting or blowing at all but rather in a sad, baffled state like that of some elderly lunatics I have known. Let me say quickly that the man was not crazy. My comparison is not a kind one and I would not use it except to emphasize his changed manner.

He wanted to write me a check and I know that it would have been all right but I did not wish to take the affair this far and risk being rooked, so I insisted on cash money. He said he would have it as soon as his bank opened.

I said, "You do not look well."

He said, "My malaria is making its annual visitation."

"I have been a little under the weather myself. Have you taken any quinine?"

"Yes, I am stuffed to the gills with the Peruvian bark. My ears are fairly ringing from it. It does not take hold as it once did."

"I hope you will be feeling better."

"Thank you. It will pass."

I returned to the Monarch to get the breakfast I had paid for. LaBoeuf the Texan was at the table, shaved and clean. I supposed he could do nothing with the "cowlick." It is likely that he cultivated it.

He was a vain and cocky devil. Mrs. Floyd asked me if the letter had come.

I said, "Yes, I have the letter. It came this morn-

"Then I know you are relieved," said she. Then to the others, "She has been awaiting that letter for days." Then back to me, "Have you seen the colonel yet?"

"I have just now come from that place," I replied.

LaBoeuf said, "What colonel is that?"

"Why, Colonel Stockhill the stone trader," said Mrs. Floyd.

I broke in to say, "It is a personal matter."

"Did you get your settlement?" said Mrs. Floyd, who could no more keep her mouth closed than can a yellow catfish.

"What kind of stones?" said LaBoeuf.

"It is Stonehill the stock trader," said I. "He does not deal in stones but livestock. I sold him some half-starved ponies that came up from Texas. There is nothing more to it."

"You are powerful young for a horsetrader," said LaBoeuf. "Not to mention your sex."

"Yes, and you are powerful free for a stranger," said I.

"Her father bought the ponies from the colonel just before he was killed," said Mrs. Floyd. "Little Mattie here stood him down and made him take them back at a good price."

Right around 9 o'clock I went to the stock barn and exchanged my release for three hundred and twenty-five dollars in greenbacks. I had held longer amounts in my hand but this money, I fancied, would be pleasing out of proportion to its face value. But no, it was only three hundred and twenty-five dollars in paper and the moment fell short of my expectations. I noted the mild disappointment and made no more of it than that. Perhaps I was affected by Stonehill's downcast state.

I said, "Well, you have kept your end of the agreement and I have kept mine."

"That is so," said he. "I have paid you for a horse I do not possess and I have bought back a string of useless ponies I cannot sell again."

"You are forgetting the gray horse."

"Crow bait."

"You are looking at the thing in the wrong light."

"I am looking at it in the light of God's eternal truth."

"I hope you do not think I have wronged you in any way."

"No, not at all," said he. "My fortunes have been remarkably consistent since I came to the 'Bear State.' This is but another episode, and a relatively happy one. I was told this city was to be the Chicago of the Southwest. Well, my little friend, it is not the Chicago of the Southwest. I cannot rightly say what it is. I would gladly take pen in hand and write a thick book on my misadventures here, but dare not for fear of being called a lying romancer."

"The malaria is making you feel bad. You will soon find a buyer for the ponies."

"I have a tentative offer of ten dollars per head from the Pfitzer Soap Works of Little Rock."

"It would be a shame to destroy such spirited horseflesh and render it into soap."

"So it would. I am confident the deal will fall through."

"I will return later for my saddle."

"Very good."

I went to the Chinaman's store and bought an apple and asked Lee if Rooster was in. He said he was still in bed. I had never seen anyone in bed at 10 o'clock in the morning who was not sick but that was where he was.

He stirred as I came through the curtain. His weight was such that the bunk was bowed in the middle almost to the floor. It looked like he was in a hammock. He was fully clothed under the covers. The brindle cat Sterling Price was curled up on the foot of the bed. Rooster coughed and spit on the floor and rolled a cigarette and lit it and coughed some more. He asked me to bring him some coffee and I got a cup and took the eureka pot from the stove and did this. As he drank, little brown drops of coffee clung to his mustache like dew. Men will live like billy goats if they are let alone. He seemed in no way surprised to see me so I took the same line and stood with my back to the stove and ate my apple.

I said, "You need some more slats in that bed."

"I know," said he. "That is the trouble, there is no slats in it at all. It is some kind of a damned Chinese rope bed. I would love to burn it up."

"It is not good for your back sleeping like that."

"You are right about that too. A man my age ought to have a good bed if he has nothing else. How does the weather stand out there?"

"The wind is right sharp," said I. "It is clouding up some in the east."

"We are in for snow or I miss my guess. Did you see the moon last night?"

"I do not look for snow today."

"Where have you been, baby sister? I looked for you to come back, then give up on you. I figured you went on home."

"No, I have been at the Monarch boardinghouse right along. I have been down with something very nearly like the croup."

"Have you now? The General and me will thank you not to pass it on."

"I have about got it whipped. I thought you might inquire about me or look in on me while I was laid up."

"What made you think that?"

"I had no reason except I did not know anybody else in town."

"Maybe you thought I was a preacher that goes around paying calls on all the sick people."

"No, I did not think that."

"Preachers don't have nothing better to do. I had my work to see to. Your Government marshals don't have time to be paying a lot of social calls. They are too busy trying to follow all the regulations laid down by Uncle Sam. That gentleman will have his fee sheets just and correct or he does not pay."

BOOK: True Grit
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