songs ain’t cheerful tunes. I had to put him out. He was bad for business. As a rule, singing is bad for business. It oppresses the spirits. Drinking ought to be a cheerful occupation.”
“Madge had a sweet voice,” Lucy said, slopping another generous measure of Monongahela into her cup. “She purely loved to sing. If she heard a tune once and it pleased her, she never forgot it.” Her eyes filled as she lowered her mouth to the mug. Bad sign, thought Straw, a drunkard’s caution, to lower and not lift. “We ought to have sung one of Madge’s favourite tunes at the funeral instead of that Jesus malarkey.”
Dooley pitched right back in, couldn’t stop himself now the dam had broken. “Yes, that would have pleased Madge. I’m sure of it.”
Straw was growing annoyed with Dooley’s presumption. “What are you sure of? You didn’t even know the girl. You never laid eyes on Madge except when she delivered my washing.”
“Maybe he didn’t know Madge,” said Lucy. “But maybe Mr. Dooley knows the human heart. Maybe that’s what Mr. Dooley knows.”
“That’s right,” said Dooley. “I was raised up in a family of twelve. There’s a lesson in human nature for you.”
“The only nature you know is your own, Aloysius, and that ain’t deep,” Straw remarked.
Lucy Stoveall saw her opportunity. “Human nature is a puzzle. I was right surprised, Mr. Straw, when your kin – those Kelso boys – ran off on you, first sign of your trouble with the law.”
Straw was taken by surprise. “What do you mean, run off on me?”
Lucy leaned her face across the table, close enough for him to touch. She peered at him intently before slumping back in her chair, evidently disappointed. “I declare. You really don’t know, do you?”
“What is it I don’t know?”
“When I went out to your horse ranch, the soddie was cleaned out. All but for a dead hog in the parlour.”
“Dead hog?”
“The pig had a note stuck to it.
Old hog by the name of Custis Straw
. That’s a hard opinion coming from relations.”
“Bastards,” said Dooley under his breath.
Straw was shaken. What with the trouble with Justice Daniels and preparations for the funeral, he hadn’t been out to check on his wranglers for two days. Worse, the Kelsos abandoning him might suggest to the town he was guilty. “Well, they are hard boys,” he said. “They asked me for another advance on wages and I turned them down. I suppose that made them mad enough to quit me.” He remembered the hog. “And the pig – they were always crying for fresh meat. So I bought them a butchering hog.” He smiled lamely. “Maybe they were trying to tell me they don’t like pork.”
“I’d have give them pork,” Dooley muttered.
Lucy turned to Straw. “Where do you figure they went? Back home?”
“Kansas? I doubt it. Titus got himself in a spot of trouble there. His mother remarried and there were bad feelings between the boys and their stepdaddy. Titus shoved a pitchfork into him, and the fellow damn near died. Both boys did a skedaddle. Their mother’s a cousinof mine. I guess they heard talk I was selling horses here. Showed up on my doorstep one day looking for work.”
Lucy nodded to herself, lips pressed tight as she thought. “So where do you reckon they went – if they aren’t welcome home?”
“Probably north to British territory. Titus was always threatening to make for there and sign on with a whisky post. It’s a job would suit his temperament – drink poteen all day, and put his boots to drunk Indians. Don’t worry about those two, if they were dropped into hell Titus would claim the window with the cool breeze for the two of them.” Straw stopped himself then, realizing he had ventured in to rocky territory. This was a tender subject for her.
“Like Abner,” said Lucy, “cut from the same bad cloth.” Lucy’s eyes wandered aimlessly about the saloon, then came back to rest on him. “Mr. Straw, I have a boon to
“Madge had a sweet voice,” Lucy said, slopping another generous measure of Monongahela into her cup. “She purely loved to sing. If she heard a tune once and it pleased her, she never forgot it.” Her eyes filled as she lowered her mouth to the mug. Bad sign, thought Straw, a drunkard’s caution, to lower and not lift. “We ought to have sung one of Madge’s favourite tunes at the funeral instead of that Jesus malarkey.”
Dooley pitched right back in, couldn’t stop himself now the dam had broken. “Yes, that would have pleased Madge. I’m sure of it.”
Straw was growing annoyed with Dooley’s presumption. “What are you sure of? You didn’t even know the girl. You never laid eyes on Madge except when she delivered my washing.”
“Maybe he didn’t know Madge,” said Lucy. “But maybe Mr. Dooley knows the human heart. Maybe that’s what Mr. Dooley knows.”
“That’s right,” said Dooley. “I was raised up in a family of twelve. There’s a lesson in human nature for you.”
“The only nature you know is your own, Aloysius, and that ain’t deep,” Straw remarked.
Lucy Stoveall saw her opportunity. “Human nature is a puzzle. I was right surprised, Mr. Straw, when your kin – those Kelso boys – ran off on you, first sign of your trouble with the law.”
Straw was taken by surprise. “What do you mean, run off on me?”
Lucy leaned her face across the table, close enough for him to touch. She peered at him intently before slumping back in her chair, evidently disappointed. “I declare. You really don’t know, do you?”
“What is it I don’t know?”
“When I went out to your horse ranch, the soddie was cleaned out. All but for a dead hog in the parlour.”
“Dead hog?”
“The pig had a note stuck to it.
Old hog by the name of Custis Straw
. That’s a hard opinion coming from relations.”
“Bastards,” said Dooley under his breath.
Straw was shaken. What with the trouble with Justice Daniels and preparations for the funeral, he hadn’t been out to check on his wranglers for two days. Worse, the Kelsos abandoning him might suggest to the town he was guilty. “Well, they are hard boys,” he said. “They asked me for another advance on wages and I turned them down. I suppose that made them mad enough to quit me.” He remembered the hog. “And the pig – they were always crying for fresh meat. So I bought them a butchering hog.” He smiled lamely. “Maybe they were trying to tell me they don’t like pork.”
“I’d have give them pork,” Dooley muttered.
Lucy turned to Straw. “Where do you figure they went? Back home?”
“Kansas? I doubt it. Titus got himself in a spot of trouble there. His mother remarried and there were bad feelings between the boys and their stepdaddy. Titus shoved a pitchfork into him, and the fellow damn near died. Both boys did a skedaddle. Their mother’s a cousinof mine. I guess they heard talk I was selling horses here. Showed up on my doorstep one day looking for work.”
Lucy nodded to herself, lips pressed tight as she thought. “So where do you reckon they went – if they aren’t welcome home?”
“Probably north to British territory. Titus was always threatening to make for there and sign on with a whisky post. It’s a job would suit his temperament – drink poteen all day, and put his boots to drunk Indians. Don’t worry about those two, if they were dropped into hell Titus would claim the window with the cool breeze for the two of them.” Straw stopped himself then, realizing he had ventured in to rocky territory. This was a tender subject for her.
“Like Abner,” said Lucy, “cut from the same bad cloth.” Lucy’s eyes wandered aimlessly about the saloon, then came back to rest on him. “Mr. Straw, I have a boon to
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