this corner.”
“I just want one beer to wash away the taste of that cell,” Roper said, “and then I gotta turn in. The sheriff told me he talked to Pete Orton and he’s gonna give me the job tomorrow.”
“One drink it is, then,” Larry said, “to celebrate our new coworker.”
“What are you gonna be doin’?” Stan asked.
“I don’t know,” Roper said. “I told him I can do about anythin’.”
“And is that true?” Larry asked.
“Pretty much.”
“Well,” Stan said, “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”
They stopped in front of the Ace High Saloon, a much smaller place than the Bullshead, which offered whiskey and beer but no gambling.
Which suited Roper.
* * *
After the one promised beer with the Fixx boys, Roper tried to wish them good night. But they wouldn’t leave him alone.
“You get in trouble too easy, boy,” Stan said.
“We’re gonna walk you to your hotel and tuck you in,” Larry said. “We don’t want you gettin’ yerself killed before you can start yer new job.”
“Well, much obliged,” Roper said, because he knew he’d never talk them out of it.
When they reached his hotel, Stan Fixx said, “Shitfire, boy, no wonder you almost got killed. This ain’t no place for a workin’ man to be stayin’.”
“It’s fer workin’ girls,” Larry said.
“It’s cheap,” Roper said.
“Well, tomorrow mornin’ you check out,” Larry said. “We got a place you can stay that’s cheap, and a helluva lot cleaner than this place.”
“You boys are really takin’ me under your wing,” Roper said.
“Hey,” Stan said, “we don’t forget you saved one of us tonight. That jasper was gonna plug me.”
“An’ you plugged him,” Larry said. “We don’t really know which one of us he was gonna shoot, so I figure you saved both of us.”
“I’ll see you boys tomorrow, then,” Roper said.
“We’ll be right here bright and early, waitin’ for ya,” Larry said.
“We’ll take you to a good place for breakfast.”
“Good night,” Roper said, wondering if he was ever going to be able to get away from his new friends to do his job.
His real job.
* * *
Nancy heard about what had happened in the Bullshead when she came down to work, and she wasn’t happy. The man closest to the action—the bartender—gave her most of the information.
“It was odd,” he said, “but Manko and his boys seemed real determined to get into a fight with this fella. If those Fixx brothers hadn’t come in when they did, they prolly woulda stomped him to death.”
“What about the shooting?”
“One of Manko’s friends went for his gun,” the barman said. “That fella Blake outdrew him slicker’n spit.”
“Is he a gunhand, do you think?”
“He don’t look like one,” the bartender said, “but he handled that gun okay.”
“Where are Manko and his boys?”
“In jail overnight, way I hear.”
“Yeah, okay,” Nancy said. “Thanks.” She turned and saw her boss at the Bullshead, Aaron Bonner, coming toward her. Bonner was a small, dapper man in his forties who had run many businesses in the East, and then came west to Fort Worth specifically to buy and run a saloon and gambling hall. He was, however, disappointed to have found the onlyone available located in Hell’s Half Acre, but decided to buy it anyway. The place had been called something colorful when he bought it, but he changed the name to the Bullshead.
“Nancy, what the hell,” he said.
“Just a little excitement, Aaron,” she assured him. “It didn’t distract anyone from the gambling.”
“This is why I’ve got to get a bid in on the White Elephant.”
“Is it up for sale?”
“That’s what I hear.”
“That would be fabulous.”
He rubbed her arm and said, “And I’d be taking you with me…though none of these others.”
“I don’t blame you,” she said. “That place reeks of class.”
“No nightly shootouts there, I’m sure,” Bonner
“I just want one beer to wash away the taste of that cell,” Roper said, “and then I gotta turn in. The sheriff told me he talked to Pete Orton and he’s gonna give me the job tomorrow.”
“One drink it is, then,” Larry said, “to celebrate our new coworker.”
“What are you gonna be doin’?” Stan asked.
“I don’t know,” Roper said. “I told him I can do about anythin’.”
“And is that true?” Larry asked.
“Pretty much.”
“Well,” Stan said, “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”
They stopped in front of the Ace High Saloon, a much smaller place than the Bullshead, which offered whiskey and beer but no gambling.
Which suited Roper.
* * *
After the one promised beer with the Fixx boys, Roper tried to wish them good night. But they wouldn’t leave him alone.
“You get in trouble too easy, boy,” Stan said.
“We’re gonna walk you to your hotel and tuck you in,” Larry said. “We don’t want you gettin’ yerself killed before you can start yer new job.”
“Well, much obliged,” Roper said, because he knew he’d never talk them out of it.
When they reached his hotel, Stan Fixx said, “Shitfire, boy, no wonder you almost got killed. This ain’t no place for a workin’ man to be stayin’.”
“It’s fer workin’ girls,” Larry said.
“It’s cheap,” Roper said.
“Well, tomorrow mornin’ you check out,” Larry said. “We got a place you can stay that’s cheap, and a helluva lot cleaner than this place.”
“You boys are really takin’ me under your wing,” Roper said.
“Hey,” Stan said, “we don’t forget you saved one of us tonight. That jasper was gonna plug me.”
“An’ you plugged him,” Larry said. “We don’t really know which one of us he was gonna shoot, so I figure you saved both of us.”
“I’ll see you boys tomorrow, then,” Roper said.
“We’ll be right here bright and early, waitin’ for ya,” Larry said.
“We’ll take you to a good place for breakfast.”
“Good night,” Roper said, wondering if he was ever going to be able to get away from his new friends to do his job.
His real job.
* * *
Nancy heard about what had happened in the Bullshead when she came down to work, and she wasn’t happy. The man closest to the action—the bartender—gave her most of the information.
“It was odd,” he said, “but Manko and his boys seemed real determined to get into a fight with this fella. If those Fixx brothers hadn’t come in when they did, they prolly woulda stomped him to death.”
“What about the shooting?”
“One of Manko’s friends went for his gun,” the barman said. “That fella Blake outdrew him slicker’n spit.”
“Is he a gunhand, do you think?”
“He don’t look like one,” the bartender said, “but he handled that gun okay.”
“Where are Manko and his boys?”
“In jail overnight, way I hear.”
“Yeah, okay,” Nancy said. “Thanks.” She turned and saw her boss at the Bullshead, Aaron Bonner, coming toward her. Bonner was a small, dapper man in his forties who had run many businesses in the East, and then came west to Fort Worth specifically to buy and run a saloon and gambling hall. He was, however, disappointed to have found the onlyone available located in Hell’s Half Acre, but decided to buy it anyway. The place had been called something colorful when he bought it, but he changed the name to the Bullshead.
“Nancy, what the hell,” he said.
“Just a little excitement, Aaron,” she assured him. “It didn’t distract anyone from the gambling.”
“This is why I’ve got to get a bid in on the White Elephant.”
“Is it up for sale?”
“That’s what I hear.”
“That would be fabulous.”
He rubbed her arm and said, “And I’d be taking you with me…though none of these others.”
“I don’t blame you,” she said. “That place reeks of class.”
“No nightly shootouts there, I’m sure,” Bonner
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