CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Buttons Muldoon planned to spend the morning yelling protestations of innocence through the bars of his cell, but he decided to eat first after breakfast turned out to be coffee, beef and beans, and a chunk of good rye bread. Chewing, he said, “Hell, Red, I just thought of something.”
“What is it?”
“We can’t pay a fine. What does that mean?”
Red looked grim. “It means we’ll be writing our names on the walls of this cell for a long time.”
Buttons poised a forkful of beans between his plate and mouth and said, “Well, you can always sell your belt gun. But not the Greener. We need that.”
“If we both sold our belt guns, I reckon we still wouldn’t have enough money to pay our fines.”
Buttons chewed, thinking, and then said, “It would probably be enough for one fine.”
“Which one?”
“Mine, of course. I have to take care of the team.”
“Ira Cole is taking care of the team,” Red said.
“I know he is. But I don’t trust him with my horses.”
Red shook his head and was silent, unable to find a way around Buttons’s logic.
A loud voice from the office out front said. “This is an outrage! Bring those two scoundrels to me.”
Then came Moad’s soft drone that neither Red nor Buttons could hear, and then again, an angry bellow. “My dear sir, you are talking to Abe Patterson of the Abe Patterson and Son Stage and Express Company, and I have some mighty powerful friends in this town. Now release my driver and shotgun guard instanter!” A pause as Moad spoke, and then, “Yes, I’ll pay the fine, although after I’m through with them, you might well find those miscreants back in your dungeon.”
“I thought I recognized the voice,” Buttons said. “That’s ol’ Abe.”
“And he sounds like he’ll be real happy to see us.” Red said.
Buttons scraped his plate, scraped Red’s, and then stood. “Make yourself look presentable,” he said around a mouthful of beef and beans. “Comb your hair.”
“I already look presentable. And I don’t have a comb.”
“Well, stand up straight,” Buttons said.
* * *
“Two horses dead, all my money lost. I should have you two hung,” Abe Patterson said.
Moad smiled. “That could be arranged.”
“Mr. Patterson, I told you what happened.” Then with a suitable note of pathos in his voice, Buttons added, “It wasn’t our fault.”
“It was all your fault. Every bit of it was your fault,” Abe Patterson said. He was a short, wiry, feisty, banty rooster of a man in a black ditto suit, the bottom of the pants tucked into a pair of embroidered boots. He wore a revolver of the largest size on his hip and a wide-brimmed Stetson that made him look like a poisonous mushroom. “After you delivered Morgan Ford to the Talbot ranch, you should’ve immediately turned around and headed for El Paso.”
“Mr. Patterson, Morgan Ford was a stiff,” Red said.
“What difference does that make?” the little man said. “Dead or not, he was a fare-paying passenger of the Abe Patterson and Son Stage and Express Company.”
Buttons said, “We were trying to make more money for the company by getting involved in Luna Talbot’s troubles, but it didn’t work out the way we planned.”
“Like gallivanting around, searching for a gold mine.” Patterson shook his head. “The height of folly that almost got Ryan killed. I’ve wrote down eight more rules to the book because of you two.”
“Sorry, Mr. Patterson,” Buttons said.
“Sorry doesn’t even begin to describe how you should feel,” Patterson said. “Cuthbert said, ‘Pop, you should fire those two,’ and I was inclined to agree with him. But seeing the pitiful state you’re in, I reckon you’ve suffered enough. Besides, I have a job for you both.”
Buttons smiled, thinking that he should shoot fat Cuthbert Patterson the first chance he got. “You can rely on us, boss.”
“No, I can’t, but you’re the only men I have available for the task I have in mind.” After a last, scathing, sidelong look at Buttons and Red, Patterson said, “Come now Marshal Moad, how much to spring these wretches?”
“The bail for disturbing the peace is set by the city,” Moad said. “At twenty dollars each, that will be—”
“I know how much it is,” Patterson said. “Too much.” He took a fat wallet from the inside of his coat and thumbed a pair of twenties onto the marshal’s desk. Then to Buttons and Red, “You two retrieve your guns and come with me.”
“You’re getting off light,” Moad said. “Grisome Bell, the owner of the One Note, wanted you hung for putting the crawl on Barney Koerner. Seems he was a big spender.”
Buttons opened his mouth to speak but abruptly shut it again when the door opened, and Daphne Loveshade stepped inside. She quickly crossed the floor to the desk and put her arm around Buttons’s shoulders. “I heard you’d been arrested. And I was so worried about you and Red.”
Daphne had a plaster across her nose and both her eyes were swollen and bruised, making the homely girl homelier still.
“My God, what happened to you?” Moad said.
Red said to Moad, “Your big spender did that to her.”
“I didn’t know . . .”
“So now you do know, lawman. Give Mr. Patterson his forty dollars back.”
Moad ignored that, and Abe Patterson said, “What’s your name, girl?”
“Daphne Loveshade, sir.”
“Good, good. A well-mannered girl. I like that,” Patterson said. “Were you beaten?”
“Yes, sir, by Barney Koerner. I wanted to be a whore, but after last night I don’t want to be a whore any longer.”
“Good decision, my dear. The oldest profession offers steady employment, but it can be a hazardous occupation at times.” Patterson studied the girl closely and then said. “Tell me, have you any desire to be a nun?”
Daphne shook her head. “No, sir. I’ve never thought about being a nun.”
Patterson smiled. “Good, good. Have you had any thought about getting wed?”
“I am married, sir, but I’m separated from my husband, the Reverend Loveshade. I don’t know where he is, and I don’t much care, either.”
“Splendid!” Patterson said. “The nunnery holds no attraction for you, and since you are already married, neither do the joys of matrimony.”
“Why are you asking me all these things, sir?” Daphne said.
“Because I need a private secretary, now more than ever since I’ve recently entered the railroading business. I’ve had two already. One ran off to the nunnery and the other surrendered to the lure of wedded bliss.”
“Mr. Patterson, are you offering Miss Loveshade a job?” Buttons said.
“I have been trending in that direction and being the soul of discretion at the same time. But, in short . . . yes, I am. Miss Loveshade, I’ll be frank. I don’t want a pretty private secretary who will attract scores of ardent young suitors and leave at the first sign of an offered wedding ring. Though, and I must be careful what I say, with you I don’t see that being much of a problem. Do you?”
“No, sir. I know I’m not pretty,” Daphne said. “Gentlemen callers will not be a problem.”
“Good! Then, we are in complete agreement,” Patterson said. “I will pay you the handsome salary of twenty dollars a month and board, and an additional daily allotment of sugar, coffee or tea, and beer.” The little man sat back in his chair as though he’d fairly stated his case. He then said, “Now, young lady, do those generous terms of employment please you?”
“Yes, sir,” Daphne said. “And I am most happy to accept. Where will I be working?”
“Mostly at my home in San Angelo, but you can expect some train and stage travel.” Patterson suddenly sat upright as though a dreadful thought had just dawned on him. “Here, you can read and write and do your ciphers?”
“Oh, yes, sir. I had a good teacher in my mother,” Daphne said.
“And you read your Bible?” Patterson said.
“Yes, I do,” Daphne said. “The Reverend Loveshade taught me much about the Good Book.”
“Then we will be perfect friends,” Patterson said. “I will introduce you to my son, Cuthbert.”
“I look forward to meeting him, sir,” Daphne said.
Abe Patterson smiled. “Apart from his sheer size, there’s very little else to meet.”
Buttons and Red’s eyes met . . . each telling the other that Cuthbert was short in the brains department and a walking, talking tub of lard who never ate in a restaurant he didn’t like.
“Now we’ll find you some decent clothes, Mrs. Loveshade,” Patterson said. “I’ll deduct the cost from your wages.” He clapped his hands. “Right, this was an excellent morning’s work, apart from bailing out a couple of rapscallions who will also find the cost of lost fares and two dead horses deducted from their future wages.”
Buttons opened his mouth to object, but Patterson held up a silencing hand. “Ah-ah, no more from you, Mr. Muldoon, or you either, Mr. Ryan. Let’s hope in the course of future events you can redeem yourselves.”
“What’s the nature of those future events, Mr. Patterson?” Red was reluctant to put his entire trust in the little man.
“I cannot reveal them right now, but they will be perilous . . . oh, yes, mighty perilous.” Patterson smiled with all the warmth of cobra rising from a snake charmer’s basket. “There’s a cannonball coming in from Kansas at four o’clock this afternoon. Meet me at the station at three-thirty and all will be revealed. And be armed.” He softened his tone. “I know that deep down you boys are true blue and that you’ll come through this with flying colors.”
Buttons was suspicious. “Come through what, boss?”
“You’ll find out,” Patterson said.