We won't argue about it. But that changes things a little as far as Paco Morales is concerned."
"How's that?"
"Gives us another suspect," Vincent said. "Rankin know about this?"
"I didn't tell him. He won't figure it out for himself. He'll just be wantin' to get her in the ground."
"He may have to wait a while," Vincent said.
20.
On their return from the jail, the men slammed into the saloon where Willie Turner was drinking with Benteen's cowhands, who had not been put off in the least by the fact that Willie told them there was no one there to sell them any liquor. They were not going to be denied their chance for a drink, and they went behind the bar for what they wanted, ignoring Willie's pleas to leave. When he saw that there was no use in arguing with them, he joined them.
He had just about finished off Ross Turley's bottle, though it hadn't done him any good. For some reason, he couldn't seem to get drunk, not even halfway. The more he drank, the more sober he got. It wasn't a good feeling.
A couple of the girls who lived out back had come in by this time, and things were getting pretty lively by the time the men came back from the jail, what with the liquor being supplied by Benteen. Willie wasn't joining in the fun, but the cowhands weren't letting that bother them. They were laughing and joking, playing up to the girls and pinching them on the sly, not that it seemed to bother the girls all that much. They were laughing, too, probably hoping to engage in a cash transaction or two later on, when things got to rolling really good.
"What's goin' on here?" Lane Harper demanded as he came through the doors. He looked for Willie and saw him standing at the bar between two of the waddies. "I thought I told you --"
"I know what you told me," Willie said. "I tried to get 'em to leave. You can ask 'em." He wondered what the preacher was doing with there, all dressed in black like he was ready for church. It didn't seem right for a preacher to be in a saloon, not where there were girls and drinking. The gambler was with them, too. Willie didn't like the gambler being there. That wasn't a good sign.
"Leave him be," Len Hawkins advised. "We got other things to discuss."
Harper wasn't going to be dissuaded so easily. "If Mr. Danton was to've come in here and seen all this goin' on, and me bein' gone, he'd sack me quick as a cat can lick its ass. I oughta --"
"Mr. Danton ain't comin' in," Turley Ross said. "When's the last time he came in here, anyway?"
Harper didn't say anything to that. He knew exactly the last time Danton had come in. It had been the day the gambler, that same fella who was with them now, had killed Morales. Danton had been there then, and what happened had sort of killed the pleasure he took in coming in. He had been back, of course. It was his business. But he came in only when he had to, and he didn't stay long when he was there. He didn't even mess with any of the girls anymore.
"Let 'em have a little fun," Ross said. "Let's decide what we're gonna do about that kid."
"Let's us have a little fun, too," Harl Case said. "Get us a drink," Lane.
Harper went behind the bar and got a bottle. Willie was glad to see that Ross seemed to have forgotten that he had already bought one.
The men went to a table and pulled up some chairs. They sat down, opened the bottle, and began discussing their next move. Willie noticed that although the preacher sat down, he didn't have anything to say, nor did he touch the bottle. And Willie saw the gun the preacher was wearing. He'd never seen anything like that before, and he knew it meant trouble, even more trouble than there was already.
Then Charley Davis came in, and the trouble got worse. It seemed to Willie as if he could almost predict what was going to happen, like he could see the future.
Davis would tell the ranch hands what
"How's that?"
"Gives us another suspect," Vincent said. "Rankin know about this?"
"I didn't tell him. He won't figure it out for himself. He'll just be wantin' to get her in the ground."
"He may have to wait a while," Vincent said.
20.
On their return from the jail, the men slammed into the saloon where Willie Turner was drinking with Benteen's cowhands, who had not been put off in the least by the fact that Willie told them there was no one there to sell them any liquor. They were not going to be denied their chance for a drink, and they went behind the bar for what they wanted, ignoring Willie's pleas to leave. When he saw that there was no use in arguing with them, he joined them.
He had just about finished off Ross Turley's bottle, though it hadn't done him any good. For some reason, he couldn't seem to get drunk, not even halfway. The more he drank, the more sober he got. It wasn't a good feeling.
A couple of the girls who lived out back had come in by this time, and things were getting pretty lively by the time the men came back from the jail, what with the liquor being supplied by Benteen. Willie wasn't joining in the fun, but the cowhands weren't letting that bother them. They were laughing and joking, playing up to the girls and pinching them on the sly, not that it seemed to bother the girls all that much. They were laughing, too, probably hoping to engage in a cash transaction or two later on, when things got to rolling really good.
"What's goin' on here?" Lane Harper demanded as he came through the doors. He looked for Willie and saw him standing at the bar between two of the waddies. "I thought I told you --"
"I know what you told me," Willie said. "I tried to get 'em to leave. You can ask 'em." He wondered what the preacher was doing with there, all dressed in black like he was ready for church. It didn't seem right for a preacher to be in a saloon, not where there were girls and drinking. The gambler was with them, too. Willie didn't like the gambler being there. That wasn't a good sign.
"Leave him be," Len Hawkins advised. "We got other things to discuss."
Harper wasn't going to be dissuaded so easily. "If Mr. Danton was to've come in here and seen all this goin' on, and me bein' gone, he'd sack me quick as a cat can lick its ass. I oughta --"
"Mr. Danton ain't comin' in," Turley Ross said. "When's the last time he came in here, anyway?"
Harper didn't say anything to that. He knew exactly the last time Danton had come in. It had been the day the gambler, that same fella who was with them now, had killed Morales. Danton had been there then, and what happened had sort of killed the pleasure he took in coming in. He had been back, of course. It was his business. But he came in only when he had to, and he didn't stay long when he was there. He didn't even mess with any of the girls anymore.
"Let 'em have a little fun," Ross said. "Let's decide what we're gonna do about that kid."
"Let's us have a little fun, too," Harl Case said. "Get us a drink," Lane.
Harper went behind the bar and got a bottle. Willie was glad to see that Ross seemed to have forgotten that he had already bought one.
The men went to a table and pulled up some chairs. They sat down, opened the bottle, and began discussing their next move. Willie noticed that although the preacher sat down, he didn't have anything to say, nor did he touch the bottle. And Willie saw the gun the preacher was wearing. He'd never seen anything like that before, and he knew it meant trouble, even more trouble than there was already.
Then Charley Davis came in, and the trouble got worse. It seemed to Willie as if he could almost predict what was going to happen, like he could see the future.
Davis would tell the ranch hands what
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