Ned Darnell was tired and angry. Milo Paxton had not shown the proper gratitude for the important information he’d brought him about Lefty McNally and the Kiowa Kid. Then he had piled extra work on him. Now, after damned little rest, Ned rode into Pan-And-Weep to do his part in putting Paxton’s preliminary plans into reality.
The settlement was a hodgepodge of shanties, tents, and camps where men working the digs and panning Blackfoot Creek lived and relaxed. The place didn’t have a permanent shape to it. With the constant coming and going creating temporary residences, it might be packed one week, sparse with a small population the second, and the third week might again find an influx in the number of inhabitants that could range from as few as fifty to as many as five hundred men.
A half-dozen women were also among the residents. They lived in some miserable cribs where, well past their youth, they sold their used up bodies cheap to prospectors who had gone too long from civilization and attractive females to find the old harlots physically unappealing.
This bucolic bordello was run by a married couple named Mahoney who, like their employees, had seen better times. Many years ago they’d conducted their business while following the soldiers of the Army of the Potomac through their Civil War campaigns. Bad luck, robbing drunken customers, and making enemies had reduced them to their present, miserable state.
Pud Barlow, having dropped two bits for one of the Mahoneys’ women and satisfying himself, stepped out into the muddy space that served as a street. He’d just finished buttoning up his trousers and was headed back to the tent he called home, when he heard his name being called. He looked up to see Ned Darnell riding up.
Pud was surprised. “What the hell are you. doing? I didn’t expect to see you so soon. Has Milo got another job lined up?”
“Big doings, Pud,” Darnell answered. “Any place we can talk private-like?”
“Sure. Over to my tent. It ain’t far,” Barlow answered. He led the way through the mud until they reached his canvas domicile.
Darnell, after tying up his horse, joined him inside. “Where’s Craw and Ben?”
“Shit, I don’t know,” Barlow answered. “Them two always run through their money fast. I think they went broke.”
“I don’t see how you fellers spend all your damn money in such a Godawful place like Pan-And-Weep,” Darnell said.
“We got to stay here ’cause Milo makes us,” Barlow said. “And a man can spend his money on rotgut whiskey and old whores here as fast as he can on better stuff in Helena. And that’s exactly what Craw and Ben done.”
“They better not be out somewhere pulling a job,” Darnell said. “Milo wants you boys here now.”
“I can’t vouch for ’em, Ned,” Barlow said. “Now how about you telling me what this is all about. I’ll bet Milo has got word on another train that’s good pickings.”
Darnell shook his head. “Tip Tyler, Tom Foyt, and Selby Turner have been kilt.”
Pud Barlow was silent for a moment. When he spoke, there was an icy tone in his voice. “How’d that come about?”
“Lefty McNally and the Kiowa Kid done ’em in.”
“Now why would Lefty and Kiowa do that?” Barlow asked.
“We think they turned bounty hunters,” Darnell answered. “For the railroad.”
“The Northwest and Canadian?”
“Yeah. Who else we been robbing all this time? And that means we got this information straight from the horse’s mouth,” Darnell said. “They been hired to track us all down – one by one.”
“They don’t know you got anything to do with the gang,” Barlow said.
“Maybe I’m lucky,” Darnell said grinning. “Or else they would’ve shot me like the others.”
Barlow’s expression was serious. “I reckon they would have at that. Them two are more’n just a little handy with their irons. What’s Milo got in mind?”
“I don’t know how he thinks he’s gonna do it, but he’s of a mind to kill Lefty and Kiowa,” Darnell said. “And I’m supposed to take you, along with Ben and Craw, to meet him. There’s a place he’s picked outside o’ Pan-And-Weep where he wants us all to get together.”
“I’m anxious to find out what’s going on,” Barlow said. “I'll get my horse.”
Within a quarter of an hour, both men were riding through the settlement. They reached the outskirts and turned east. After going less than a mile, they met Ben Clackum and Craw Mindon riding toward them.
“Where you two been?” Barlow asked.
“We just got some money,” Craw said.
Clackum laughed. “From back East.”
“What the hell are you two talking about?” Barlow asked.
“We’ll explain later,” Clackum said. “Right now we’re right anxious to visit the Mahoneys then get damn good and drunk.”
“It’ll have to wait,” Darnell interjected. “We got to make a meet with Milo and Bill.”
“What the hell for?” Mindon asked. “Another job?”
After Darnell explained what was going on, the four men headed off in the same direction for the meeting with Milo Paxton and Bill Hays.
~*~
Lefty and Kiowa paused at the edge of Pan-And-Weep. They surveyed the scene as best they could, trying to spend a few seconds studying each person they saw.
Lefty laughed. “I see them Maloney women ain’t got any purtier.”
Kiowa chuckled, too. “And no younger neither. But don’t worry. If we stay here long enough, they will.”
“I hope to God we ain’t in Pan-And-Weep that long,” Lefty said. “Let’s ride through the place real slow and see if we can spot any o’ Milo’s gang.”
“Who’s left?” Kiowa said thoughtfully. “There’s Ben Clackum, Pud Barlow, and Craw Mindon. Right?”
“Right,” Lefty said. “But don’t discount Milo and Bill.”
“They ain’t gonna be around here,” Lefty said. “At least I don’t think so.”
“You’re right,” Kiowa said. “We’ll have to do some real tracking to run down them two.
The pair allowed their horses to amble slowly as they wound through the shanties and tents. Now and then they spotted someone they’d known during their days of prospecting. After an exchange of greetings and a casual inquiry about Paxton’s gang, they continued their slow search.
They finally came to a stop in front of a typical open-air restaurant. The proprietor, with his back to them, was trimming his beard with a pair of scissors while looking into a mirror. Lefty read the sign above the establishment aloud for Kiowa’s benefit. “It says ‘Nolan’s Flapjacks’,” he said.
Kiowa laughed. “Hey, you old Nolan you!”
The man working on his beard turned at the sound of his name. Gray-haired and with a wind-burned face, his grizzled features broke into a wide grin at the sight of the two. “Lefty! Kiowa! Are you back to try your luck again?”
They dismounted and walked up to the counter. Kiowa shook his head. “We gave up on finding gold, Nolan. How’re you doing?”
Nolan Batcher offered his hand. “I’m doing damned good since I done like you two and stopped digging and panning.” He indicated his business with a wave of his hand. “The boys allus said I made the best damn flapjacks in the world. So I decided to sell ’em.”
Lefty, feeling the pangs of hunger, licked his lips. “We ain’t had any flapjacks since we was at Dawson’s Meadow. He had honey for his.”
“I got wild honey, boy,” Nolan said. “You two want a batch?”
“How much are they?” Lefty asked. Price fluctuations were notorious in the gold country. Things that were cheap one day would suddenly soar in value the next.
“For you boys, it’s on the house,” Nolan said. “You done me a coupla favors as I recall.” He poked up the coals under his homemade grill and stuck in some faggots to get a small fire going. “If you ain’t looking for gold, what brings you up here? The scenery?”
“Naw,” Lefty said. “We’re looking for some old pals.”
Nolan, a perceptive man, didn’t say anything as he stirred up his special mixture of flour, water, and seasonings. He knew nobody rode all the way up to Pan-And-Weep simply to give a howdy to friends. “Who might them pards o’ yours be?” he asked. “Maybe I seen ’em.”
Lefty tried to sound nonchalant. “Oh, we’d like to talk to Ben Clackum maybe.”
“Yeah,” Kiowa said. “Or Craw Mindon.”
Nolan knew they were Milo Paxton’s boys. “They’re around,” he said. “So’s Pud Barlow. You want to see him, too?”
“Sure. Why not?” Lefty remarked.
At that point, Nolan was certainly not going to get involved. He knew something serious was going on. He’d learned early that a man who minds his own business in that part of the world might not necessarily return to civilization wealthy, but at least he’d return.
Lefty, Kiowa, and Nolan engaged in small talk as the meal was cooked and served. The restaurateur was generous with both the flapjacks and the honey. By the time the food was consumed, Lefty and Kiowa were full.
“We thank you kindly for the grub, Nolan,” Lefty said.
“Yeah. It were delicious,” Kiowa added.
“Glad you enjoyed it, boys,” Nolan said.
“By the way, Nolan,” Lefty said. “If you see them fellers, don’t mention we’re looking for ’em. Me and Kiowa kinda want to surprise ’em.”
“I’ll just bet you do,” Nolan remarked as they went back to their horses. “If I see Ben or Craw or Pud, I’ll just keep this old mouth clamped up tight, boys. Don’t you worry none about that.” He called out, “I hope to see you again.”
They mounted up to continue their circuit of the settlement. Lefty glanced over at Kiowa. “You figger Nolan knows we’re gonna have trouble here?”
“Sure he does,” Kiowa said. “And let me tell you something else. I also figger that Milo Paxton has heard about what’s been happening. I got a feeling we’re gonna have one hell of a showdown here in Pan-And-Weep.”
“I been getting nervous, too,” Lefty admitted. They had almost ridden a complete circle of the place when they spotted Russ Wilson riding in from the west. Lefty emitted a loud whistle to attract his attention.
Wilson rode over. “How’s things look?”
“There’s three of ’em in town now,” Lefty said.
“Clackum, Barlow, and Mindon.”
“Yeah,” Kiowa said. “But it’s about time ol’ Milo and Bill Hays are gonna be poking their noses into this mess. Me and Lefty need backups now.” Wilson agreed. “Me and Bigelow knew the time was coming. I’ll ride on back and fetch him. You two carry on ’til we get here.”
“Don’t tarry,” Lefty said.
“We’ll be back in plenty o’ time,” Wilson promised. “Don’t let ’em get away. If need be, throw down on ’em and let the devil take his due. Me and Jim Bigelow’ll be here directly.” He turned his horse around and rode back up into the forest.
“Well, Kiowa,” Lefty said. “Let’s hunt ’em down.”
Loosening their guns in holsters and the rifle boots on their saddles, Lefty and Kiowa went back through the town to start what they hoped would be the end of the job.
~*~
Milo Paxton, holding court from the fallen log that served as his throne, languidly smoked his cigar as he looked over his men.
Bill Hays, alert and angry, fidgeted with one of his pistols, brushing imaginary dust off it and spinning the cylinder from time to time.
Sitting beside him, Pud Barlow was solemn and angry. Learning of the death of three of his closest friends had put him in a determined mood for vengeance.
Ben Clackum and Craw Mindon, with the money from their latest murder and robbery in their pockets, were both anxious to get on with the job of killing Lefty McNally and the Kiowa Kid. With any luck, after Lefty and Kiowa were killed, Milo would reward them by letting them go down to Luckville for a real blow-out of a celebration.
Taking a bite from his plug of tobacco, Ned Darnell worked it up into his cheek before his spoke. “It’s God’s truth, boys. Them two sonofabitches killed eight men back there at Luckville.”
Bill Hays finally reholstered his pistol, “They’re good, Milo.”
“Goddamn it! I know they’re good,” Paxton said. “Why do you think I ain’t just riding back into Pan-And-Weep for a showdown with ’em?”
“We know you can handle it, boss,” Craw Mindon said respectfully. “We’re just kinda anxious to do ’em in.”
“Well, so am I,” Paxton said. “Do you and Ben know many fellers in that pile o’ shanties?”
“We know a few,” Clackum said.
“Any good guns in there?” Paxton asked.
Clackum glanced at Mindon then back to Paxton. “Nobody special. But ever’body knows how to use one, I reckon.”
“There’s some that could be hired for a fight,” Mindon quickly added. “You can always find somebody down on his luck and looking for a grubstake.”
“That’s right, boss,” Clackum said. “And they’d be willing to risk their necks if the price was right.” Paxton lapsed back into a pensive mood for a few minutes.
Bill Hays looked at him in anticipation. “You got something in mind, Milo?”
The gang leader didn’t answer for a few moments. Finally he said, “Yeah. It’s an idea that Bill gave me before we got back here. The more I think about it, the better I like the plan. I want Ben and Craw to go into Pan-And-Weep and get us about a half-dozen more fellers. Tell ’em it’s ten dollars gold to take down a coupla bastards that done dirt to us.”
“Right, boss,” Clackum said glad to see something finally happening.
“But I don’t want ’em shot down,” Paxton said.
“Why the hell not?” Craw Mindon demanded to know.
“Because, shithead,” Paxton said, “we need to find out who’s putting them up to hunting down the gang. How do you know there ain’t more bounty hunters out there someplace, huh? Maybe there’s a whole damn posse that’s been sent for us. It’d be purty damn dumb to do in Lefty and Kiowa only to find out there was twenty more follering them.”
Properly chastised, Mindon said, “You’re right, boss. That’s why you’re ramrodding this outfit.”
“And don’t you forget it, goddamn it!” Paxton snapped.
Bill Hays, as smart as his brother-in-law, elaborated more. “The Northwest and Canadian might have put out big rewards on us, boys. On the other hand, maybe it ain’t the railroad at all. Maybe them two boys is deputy marshals and have warrants with our names writ all over ’em.”
“It’s complicated alright,” Pud Barlow agreed.
“Them two don’t know that Ned is part o’ the gang,” Paxton said. “He can look ’em up and tell ’em that Ben, Pud, and Craw is out hunting. Then he can take ’em someplace to wait for ’em.”
“Where should I take ’em, boss?” Ned asked.
“I know,” Ben Clackum interjected. “There’s a likker tent near the edge o’ town on this side. We can have the hired galoots waiting for ’em there. Lefty and Kiowa won’t suspect nothing. When Darnell gives the signal, them other fellers can jump ’em. Then me and Craw and Pud can come on in and bring ’em back out here where the boss and Bill is waiting.”
Milo Paxton patted Clackum on the shoulder. “You’re getting smart in your old age, Ben.”
Clackum grinned. “Thanks, boss.”
Paxton gave his attention to Ned Darnell. “You know what to do?”
“Sure, boss,” Darnell answered. “I’ll hire about six down-and-outers and have ’em go over to the likker tent. Then I’ll look up Lefty and Kiowa and bring ’em over there. After we jump them two, we’ll drag ’em back out here.”
“It’ll work,” Bill Hays said with a tone of finality in his voice.
“You’re damned right it will if it’s done right,” Milo Paxton said. “Lefty and Kiowa is good, but they ain’t good enough to fight their way outta getting grabbed by six men if they’re surprised.”
“Let’s get moving,” Ben Clackum urged. “I ain’t gonna be happy ’til I’m pissing on Lefty McNally and the Kiowa Kid’s graves.”