Ralph Compton Train to Durango by Ralph Compton Page A

get back to the Dodge House, where we can talk.”
    â€œI need a bath,” Molly said. “I have dust in places I can’t talk about.”
    â€œWe’ll join the rest of you for supper,” said Silver.
    When they reached the Dodge House, Silver arranged for a tub and bathwater to be brought to his room. Harley had returned to the depot with Foster Hagerman, leaving El Lobo, Wes, Renita, and Tamara on their own.
    â€œThe Dodge House is nice,” Renita said, “but can’t we do something between now and supper besides sleep?”
    El Lobo laughed.
    â€œShe does not mean that,” Tamara said, glaring at him.
    â€œI am in need of some new clothes,” said Renita. “Can we afford them?”
    â€œI reckon,” Wes said.
    â€œI need clothes, too,” said Tamara. “Palo do not notice if I am stark naked.”
    â€œCome on, Palo,” Wes said. “Give her some money. If they’re together, we won’t have to wander around through all that female finery.”
    â€œYou wouldn’t send us to town alone?” said Renita.
    â€œNo,” Wes said. “We’ll be somewhere in the store. We just don’t aim to get trapped in among the corsets and that other female stuff.”
    Being a railroad town, and with Fort Dodge only eight miles distant, Dodge boasted a varied array of shops and stores. One of them had devoted an entire upper floor to female apparel. Wes and El Lobo occupied themselves on the first floor, admiring an assortment of new Winchester and Remington rifles in a gun rack. When a stranger stepped out from behind a display, Wes caught the movement off to the side. He whirled, a Colt cocked and in his hand. Though the stranger was armed he made no move toward his holstered weapon. He laughed.
    â€œYou’re mighty sudden with that iron, and mighty jumpy.”
    â€œI don’t like
hombres
cat-footin’ up behind me,” said Wes shortly. “What do you want of me?”
    â€œNothin’, at the moment,” the stranger said. “You’re Wes Stone, the gunslinger, ain’t you?”
    â€œI’m Wes Stone,” Wes said coldly. “Who are you?”
    The stranger laughed again. “Nobody you’d know. I ain’t famous like you.”
    Hitching his thumbs in his gunbelt, he wandered away. Following a few paces behind, Wes followed, watching him out the front door.
    â€œMalo?” El Lobo asked.
    â€œMaybe,” said Wes. “While I was with the railroad, I made a name for myself with a gun. Now it looks like as long as I’m alive, I’ll never overcome the need to prove myself.”
    El Lobo said nothing. It was yet another danger for which Wes must be prepared. For the better part of two hours they waited, and when Renita and Tamara came down the stairs, they were radiant. Each wore a long dress.
    â€œ
Madre mia
,” El Lobo groaned. “It take so long just for one dress?”
    â€œThere are others,” said Tamara. “I can wear but one at a time.”
    When the rest of their purchases were delivered to the cash register on the first floor, there was a formidable load.
    â€œTarnation,” Wes said, “we’ll have to make three trips.”
    â€œIf it’s not too far,” said the saleslady, “it can be delivered.”
    â€œThe Dodge House,” Wes said.
    Wes and El Lobo paid the bill.
    â€œI’m goin’ out first,” said Wes, when they reached the door.
    â€œI follow,” El Lobo said.
    â€œIt’s daylight and we’re in town,” said Renita. “What’s wrong?”
    â€œMaybe nothing,” Wes said. “Both of you stay inside for a minute.”
    Half a block away, across the street, a man leaned against an awning post. Seeing Wes, he stepped off the boardwalk into the dusty street.
    â€œYou got a reputation, Stone. I want it.”
    â€œI don’t know you,” said Wes, “and I