9

When Fargo left Sally’s room, he saw Stink coming out of Kansas Kate’s door. The little man had a grin so wide that it nearly split his face in two. He was carrying his disreputable hat in one hand, and his formerly slicked-down hair was sticking out in all directions.

“You look like you’re feeling mighty fine, Stink,” Fargo said. “Kansas Kate show you a good time?”

“Best one I’ve had lately,” Stink said, jamming his hat on his head. “Usually the gals here won’t let me even get close to ’em.”

“Just goes to show what a little soap and water can do.” The two men started down the stairs to the first floor, Stink looking thoughtful.

“Could be that you’re right. I never notice if I’m a little dirty. Comes from living by myself. I guess other folks must notice, though.”

“Looks like your name would give you the idea that they did.”

“Stink? I always wondered why they called me that. You think I smell bad?”

“Not now,” Fargo said. “You had a bath. Before that, though, you didn’t exactly smell like a prairie flower.”

“Maybe there’s something to that soap and water stuff, after all.” Stink clapped Fargo on the arm. “I owe you for making me bathe myself so good, Fargo. Anything I can do for you, you just let me know.”

Fargo wondered how far he could trust Stink and how much he should ask him. He’d been planning to ask some of the girls when Sally introduced him around, but it could be that Stink would know something that would help Fargo out.

It would take Sally a while to get herself together and show him around, so Fargo had a little time on his hands.

“Why don’t you and I have a drink, Stink?” Fargo said. “I’m new here in Portland, and you can tell me a little about the town.”

“I sure can. I been here six or seven years now. Where you want to have that drink?”

“You ever been to the Far Call?”

“Yeah. It’s not a bad place.”

Fargo had a feeling that Stink would have said the same thing about any saloon he’d named.

“Let’s go there,” Fargo said.

 

The saloon was a little livelier than when Fargo had been in earlier that day. There was a man in a greasy beaver hat playing the piano, not very well, and it looked to Fargo as if dust was flying up from between the keys. A couple of men were dancing with two of the saloon girls, both of whom looked bored and indifferent to their partners. The poker players were still there, or maybe they were different ones, and there were more people drinking.

The bartender was the same, and he recognized Fargo. “From the satisfied look on your face, I’d say you located Miss Sally’s,” he said.

“That’s right,” Fargo told him. “You gave me good directions.”

“You look mighty pleased with yourself, too, Stink,” the bartender said. “You been to Sally’s yourself?”

“Sure have, and now my friend Fargo and I are gonna have us a beer.”

“Who slicked you up?” the bartender said. “I ain’t seen you this clean in . . .” He stopped and gave it some thought. “Hell, I ain’t never seen you this clean.”

“Well, you better get accustomed to it,” Stink said. “I’ve turned over a new leaf.”

The bartender shook his head as if he didn’t believe it and drew two mugs of beer. Fargo and Stink took the mugs to a table and sat down.

The piano player stopped, and the dancers sat down. When the playing started again, they didn’t get up.

Stink looked around the room and nodded to a few men as if he knew them. Fargo said, “You know everybody in town?”

“Not all of ’em, but a lot. I make my living doing this and that, so I get to know quite a few people.”

Fargo asked what Stink meant by this and that.

“You know. Things nobody else wants to do. Get rid of an animal carcass, clean up an outhouse, dig graves, whatever comes to hand.”

“I guess you even know some of the rich folks, like judges and bankers.”

“I sure do.” Stink took a healthy swallow of beer and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. “I get a lot more work from the rich ones than from people with no money. I don’t work for free, by God.”

“I met some fellas from around here one time. Bryant was their name. Or maybe it was Bryan. Brothers. Said they worked on the docks.”

“Not if you’re talking about Hob and Sam, last name of Bryan. Why those two fellas are outlaws of the worst kind. Robbed the bank here a while back and killed the guard. Broke out of prison just a month or so ago. When did you say you met ’em?”

“It was a few years ago, when I was through here on another job. They seemed like nice enough fellas to me. I never knew they were robbers.”

“Weren’t, back then. They went bad about two or three years back. Robbed some stagecoaches and such. Never hurt anybody, just took the money. Nobody thought they’d ever stoop to killing, but you can’t ever tell with outlaws.”

Stink drank some more of his beer. His mug was just about empty.

“I thought I remembered three of them,” Fargo said.

“Yeah, there was Corby, the youngest. He didn’t get caught in that robbery, but everybody knows he busted his brothers out of the prison. The posse looked for ’em for a month or so, but they never found ’em.”

“What about the money from the robbery? They ever find that?”

“Hell, no. Talk is that when the boys broke out of the pen, they went to wherever it was hid and got it. They’re most likely in California by now, living the high life on the money they stole here in Portland.”

Fargo knew better than that, but he wasn’t going to tell Stink, not yet. Although he had a few more questions to ask, it was time to be getting back to Sally’s to meet the girls. But he wanted to make some arrangements first.

“I have a job for you,” Fargo told Stink, “if you want it. It’s not much of a job, so it won’t pay you a lot.”

“I don’t need a lot, living the way I do. What’s the job?”

“I need somebody to look after my horse. I’m supposed to get a good price at a livery run by somebody named Collier, but I don’t know where it is. I need you to take the horse there and then check in on it every now and then to be sure Collier’s taking good care of it.”

“I can do that for you. Won’t even charge you. I said I owed you a favor, and this’ll make us even.”

Fargo would have been happy to pay him, but if Stink wanted to watch over the Ovaro for nothing, Fargo wouldn’t argue. They left the saloon and went back to Sally’s. Stink untied the reins from the hitch rail.

“You can rest easy about this horse,” Stink said before he walked away. “I’ll see to it that Collier feeds it some oats along with the hay and that he curries it every now and then. If you need to go for a ride, you let me know, and I’ll get the horse for you and bring it here.”

Fargo said that sounded good. “How will I get word to you?”

“You can just tell Sally. She can generally get word to anybody in town if she wants to. She knows even more people than I do. Most of ’em are men, though.”

Fargo wasn’t surprised to hear that. He watched as Stink walked off leading the horse, and then he went inside to meet the girls who worked for Sally.