“Want to?” he asks, and I nods.
“How much? I’ll pay yuh what I did your pardner. Is that fair?”
I nods and he pulls out uh roll what would choke uh burro. He peels off
eight hundred dollars and hands it to me.
“I’ll give yuh the rest after the first clean-up,” says he, and I nods
some more. I find it pays to keep your mouth shut.
“Where’s my pardner?” I asks, and he waves his hand toward town and
gallops on.
I kisses that roll uh bills, and takes off my hat to Hair-Trigger once
more. When I gets into that deserted village I sees uh small speck out
in the desert, going away from that land uh strikes.
I pilgrims over to uh restaurant and helps myself to uh feed that
somebody forgot to eat, annexes uh bottle at Blucher’s place, and then
looks into the bank. I rolls uh smoke, and pilgrims away in the
footsteps of Hair-Trigger Hollibaugh and Eveline Ann.
It gets cool after sundown, so I finds use for that coat. I sleeps under
uh mesquite that night, and gets an early start. It’s about ten o’clock
when I drops over uh little bluff and sees Eveline Ann. He’s grazin’
peacefully, so I sneaks up soft like and finds Hair-Trigger at his
favorite occupation. I takes his gun.
“Nice morning,” I states in something above uh whisper, and he sets up
some sudden-like. He feels for his gun but it’s missing, and he gazes at
me, reproving-like.
“Ho, hum-m-m-m-m-m-m!” he yawns. “I didn’t expect yuh, Comanche.”
“No?” says I. “Ain’t that queer? What did yuh leave me for?”
“You’re too—ho, hum-m-m-m-m-m!—honest, Comanche. You and me don’t hitch.
Sabe?”
“You didn’t hesitate to take my jack,” I reminds him, pointing at
Eveline Ann.
“That’s plumb right,” he admits, yawning some more. “But mules ain’t got
no morals. Didn’t I start some stampede, though.”
“Uh-huh,” I admits. “You sure did. How?”
Hair-Trigger grins and reaches in his pocket. He takes out some objects
and lets ’em roll out on the ground.
“Nuggets!” I yells, but Hair-Trigger yawns and grins some more.
“Look fine, don’t they? That’s what Blue Nose thought. All I did was to
roll ’em on the bar, and the stuff was all off. Nothing but hammered .41
bullets. Just plain lead. Remember that paint the bartender was using on
that picture-frame? That wasn’t paint at all. It was gilt. Gilded
bullets! Gosh A’mighty! Picture-painting bartenders, stuttering
prospectors, stingy bankers and gilded bullets. Dog—my—cats!”
“Why didn’t yuh let me in on that bank robbery?” I asks, offhand-like,
and he breaks right off in the middle of uh yawn.
“Bank robbery!” he exclaims. “Bank—ho, hum-m-m-m-m! Must be the air. Dog
my cats! You sure are one deductive person, Comanche. How’d yuh know I
robbed that bank?”
“There wasn’t nobody left to guard it,” I states, and he grins.
“Uh-huh,” he admits. “Stingy old pelican! All he left was three hundred
in silver. That person sure hustled to stake uh claim. Pays him back for
the names he called us.”
“I’ll take it,” I states, patting the barrel of my six-gun, but
Hair-Trigger yawns and shakes his head.
“You can’t, Comanche. You’re too danged honest. Sabe? This is stolen
money.”
“That ain’t it uh tall,” says I, pointing at the lapel of my coat. “This
is the reason, Hair-Trigger.”
He examines me some close-like and then leans back and yawns.
“Ho, hum-m-m-m-m! Ain’t that the truth? Sheriff! Well, dog—my—cats!
Comanche Cal, you sure are one deceiving person for to see. The money is
in the pack on the burro. Do I have to go, too?”
“No,” says I, “I ain’t no danged Shylock. I’m uh white man, and I comes
from an honest family. You go in peace.”
“Ho, hum-m-m-m-m! Much obliged. I reckon I’ll be going on. I’m sorry
you’re so danged honest, Comanche, ’cause me and you sure could uh
pulled—oh, well. Give everybody my regards, will yuh?”
I nods, and watches the last of the Hollibaughs top the first sand-hill.
On the top he stretches his long carcass in uh farewell yawn, and ambles
out uh sight, and me and Eveline Ann pilgrims towards the sun.
I holes up about forty miles from Blue Nose, and communes with myself
for days. I got too much money on my conscience, and I mourns uh heap
when I consults my immortal soul and finds that I’m an accessory to
Hair-Trigger Hollibaugh.
Finally I gets Satan behind me, along with Eveline Ann, and we pilgrims
back to Blue Nose. It’s been two weeks since I left there, but the town
ain’t changed uh bit. I ties Eveline to the rack in front of the bank,
and goes inside.
Old Swigert is right where he was the first time I saw him—humped over
that table, trying to smell out uh missing cent. He glances at me and
growls—
“Well, what do yuh want now?”
“What did I want the last time?” I asks.