THE SUN HAD set and the crimson sky was fading gradually across Apache Springs as the smiling Billy Rocco descended the staircase inside the Lucky Dice saloon with two of its handsomest bargirls on his arms. They left him with kisses on his cheeks and started to mingle with the saloons other patrons. He walked to the bar counter and raised a finger at the bartender.
‘Beer, Joe,’ he ordered breathlessly as the rotund Joe Hanna moved toward him with a glass overflowing with suds.
‘I seen you at the top of the stairs, Billy,’ Joe said as he placed the cool beer before the thirsty cowboy and watched him raise it to his lips. ‘I figured you’d be kinda dry after tangling with them girls.’
The young cowpuncher smiled as he finished the beer and pushed it across the damp counter for another.
‘How long have I been upstairs with them gals, Joe?’ he wondered as he noticed that every lamp inside the saloon was lit and glowing. He then noticed that it was dark outside the Lucky Dice as another of its frequent storms was starting to flash across the sky.
The bartender turned the beer tap off and handed the cowboy the refreshing beverage and smiled.
‘At least an hour by my figuring,’ Joe replied.
Billy pushed his hat back off his temple and sighed heavily as he gripped the glass in his grateful hand. He drank and then looked around the saloon. It was still quite busy but unusually quiet for this time of day.
‘Where are all your regular customers, Joe?’ he asked curiously. ‘It was a lot busier than this when I took them gals upstairs.’
Joe Hanne rested his hands on the surface of the counter and looked around the saloon. He shook his head and bit his lip thoughtfully.
‘That’s a good question, Billy,’ he replied. ‘It’s been mighty quiet all day. I don’t know why but I got me a feeling that it’s got something to do with the shooting this morning. Folks have been scared off.’
Billy tried not to look too guilty as he had been part of the deadly showdown when he had ridden with the troopers and the mysterious Uriah Moon into the thick of battle.
‘But why would that stop you customers coming here?’ he wondered. ‘I reckon there must be another reason folks ain’t here, Joe.’
‘You’re probably right.’ Billy thought about the infamous Uriah Moon who dealt out death with his six-shooters in the same manner that professional card players distributed cards.
Hanna paused polishing glasses for a moment and stared hard at the Double K cowboy. A thought had just occurred to the bartender and he leaned across the mahogany counter toward the thoughtful Billy.
‘You wanna make an easy dollar, Billy?’ he asked the weary cowboy.
Billy Rocco looked at the bartender with surprise etching his features as he wondered what Joe meant. He rested an elbow on the counter and attempted to act casually.
‘What exactly would you willingly pay me a dollar for, Joe?’ he enquired casually. ‘I ain’t cheap.’
Joe Hanna moved closer and grabbed the cowboys dangling bandanna. He pulled it toward him knowing that Billy would follow close behind.
Their faces were only three inches apart when the bartender released his grip on the long cotton neck piece.
‘Ok, two dollars,’ he said.
Billy blinked hard and adjusted his bandanna so that he could swallow again. He stared hard at the bartender.
‘Two dollars?’ he repeated.
‘OK. Three dollars,’ Joe snapped quietly. ‘I ain’t paying you more than that, no matter how much you haggle.’
Billy Rocco smiled wider than usual.
‘That’ll be fine, Joe,’ he chuckled. ‘I accept your offer of three dollars.’
The bartender shook his head as he breathed heavily at the cowboy.
‘I never figured you being such a good haggler, Billy.’ The bartender reached into his apron pocket and pulled out three gleaming silver dollars and dropped them into the cowboy’s breast shirt pocket. The sound of the coins finding the bottom of his pocket and jangling together made the cowboy grin.
Suddenly it dawned on the young cowpuncher that he had no idea why he had been paid three dollars. Billy blinked hard as he wondered what Joe Hanna expected him to do.
‘What do you want me to do, Joe?’ he asked nervously.
Joe Hanna straightened up and stared hard at the cowboy in surprise. He raised his eyebrows.
‘I thought we’d already agreed what you gotta do,’ he said.
Billy shook his head and then sipped his suds.
‘Nope,’ he croaked. ‘You ain’t mentioned nothing.’
The bartender looked surprised.
‘I didn’t?’ Hanna rolled his eyes and pointed at the saloon swing doors before jabbing at the air. ‘I want you to go over to the Salty Sally saloon yonder and see if they are as quiet as I am here. Reckon you can do that, Billy?’
Billy Rocco nodded and then had a mischievous thought. He curled his finger and drew the bartender closer.
‘What?’ Hanna asked.
‘I’ll need another dollar for booze,’ he said with his out-held hand hovering in front of the bartender.
Joe Hanna looked outraged.
‘I just gave you three bucks, Billy,’ he said.
‘That was for me,’ Billy grinned. ‘I want money to buy myself a few beers over in the Salty Sally. You can’t expect me to spend my own money.’
The bartender tilted his head. ‘But I gave you them three dollars, Billy.’
‘But you didn’t give me any money to have myself a drink over in the Salty Sally, Joe.’ Billy smiled, finished his beer but kept his hand hovering above the bar counter surface.
The reluctant bartender fished another dollar from his pocket and placed it upon the palm of the cowboy’s outstretched hand. He forced a smile and then snorted and the cheeky youngster.
‘Go and try and find out what on earth is going on in town, Billy,’ he said. ‘Maybe somebody in the Salty Sally knows the reason trade is down.’
‘I’ll come back and tell you what I’ve learned over there, Joe,’ the cowboy chuckled. ‘I sure hope this doesn’t take too long. I’d hate to run out of money before I find out why the town is so damn quiet.’
Joe Hanna pointed a finger at Billy.
‘Drink slow, Billy,’ he advised. ‘Drink real slow.’
Billy gripped the coin firmly in his hand and strode to the swing doors and pushed his way out into the street. It was far darker than he had imagined yet a brewing storm rumbled like a cattle stampede above his head. Only the street lights spilling out from their high poles lit up the distance between the two saloons.
A flash of bright white lightning erupted above the street rooftops. It reflected off the rain which streamed down the wooden shingles and metal as like liquid gold. Billy instinctively ducked for a moment and then stared at the falling rain. There was something unearthly about this place when the storms unleashed their fury.
A cold shudder traced his spine as he stepped closer to the edge of the boardwalk and peered through the waterfall of raindrops which flowed from the porch overhang. His eyes darted to the black and white clouds as they crashed into one another over Apache Springs.
The smell of sulphur filled the young cowboys flared nostrils as he inhaled deeply. Billy Rocco patted the coins in his pocket stepped down on to the street and headed hurriedly to the saloon opposite the Lucky Dice. Even before he reached the Salty Sally he noticed that it was not as noisy as usual for this time of day.
‘That’s strange,’ Billy uttered before stepping up on to the boardwalk and sheltering under the porch overhang. For a moment the cowboy hesitated before the saloons swing doors as he moved closer.
He looked over the doors into belly of the Salty Sally and glanced around its interior. Apart from a couple of its regulars, it was even quieter than the Lucky Dice. The cowboy glanced over his shoulder through the driving rain and saw the large figure of Joe Hanna standing in his saloon. The bartender urged him on with waves of his hands. Billy mustered all of his resolve and turned back to the swing doors and pushed them inward.
Billy walked toward the bar as the eyes of the bartender glanced up from a stack of beer glasses that he was polishing and stared at the sodden cowboy.