Blackjack

64

The early morning was quiet and the sun was slanting in through the openings of the buildings on 3rd Street as we walked to the sheriff’s office. The shafts of yellow light reflected off the storefront glass enough to make us keep our brims down. It was still early, not much was open, and the streets were sparse of folks moving about.

“Maybe it’s justice,” I said.

“Maybe not,” Virgil said.

We walked by in front of the hotel where the Coloradoans were staying. At the moment all was quiet and there was no one going in or coming out.

“Don’t imagine the Denver contingent will be too happy,” I said as we passed the hotel.

“No,” Virgil said glancing at the hotel’s front door. “I don’t, either.”

When we passed, Virgil looked back a little.

“Saw them earlier,” Virgil said with a shake of his head.

“Like they’re waiting around for rut or harvest,” I said.

“’Fraid the yield’s not so good,” Virgil said.

“Currently,” I said.

“I had a brief visit with the chief,” Virgil said.

“And?”

“He’s an unfriendly hombre,” Virgil said. “Remembered him, too.”

“Did?”

“Yep.”

“Where?”

“Long time ago. He was a young Otero County sheriff. I remembered him for certain. He was with a group of others up on the Purgatoire River, up by Bent’s last place,” Virgil said. “Forever ago now. I was passing through when brouhaha happened there. Him and the others found a young black kid they’d been chasing.”

When we came to the end of the street we saw one of Chastain’s deputies. Luce, a stout-looking fellow with a thick mustache that draped down to the bottom of his chin. He was standing back off the street, holding his rifle across his beer gut and smoking a cigarette. He dropped it and crushed it under his foot when he saw us crossing the street.

“Seen anything, Luce?” I said.

“No, sir,” he said. “Nothing. I been right here so I can see both directions leading off.”

“Okay,” I said. “Just stay alert and alive.”

“Yes, sir,” he said.

We walked on a ways and Virgil continued.

“They strung up the black kid, they claimed he had stolen a horse. He was just a boy. Messenger was... hell, real young then, that’s why I didn’t recognize him, really. Don’t think he recognized me, either, but I remember the name, ’cause the kid was begging not to die, pleading, Mr. Messenger, please, I didn’t do it... That I remember.”

“Well, hell,” I said. “Guess he’s got a soft spot in his heart for hanging.”

Virgil didn’t say anything.

When we got to the sheriff’s office, Chastain and Book led us into the cell room to have a look at Black’s escape wreckage as they informed us on what was taking place.

“We got everybody out looking,” Chastain said.

“When I got here and found out they were gone,” Book said. “I got everybody moving right away.”

“Like you told Book, we got someone on lookout at every road trail leading out of town,” Chastain said.

“What time was that?” Virgil said.

“’Bout five or so,” Book said.

“If the sumbitches ain’t already gone from Appaloosa, they won’t get gone,” Chastain said. “Not this time.”

“We even sent four men down to the ford,” Book said. “In case they had that on their mind again.”

Chastain walked into Black’s cell.

“Can’t believe this shit?” Chastain said, shaking his head and looking at Black’s cell window that was missing its bars. “That’s what we goddamn get for having strong damn bedrails.”

He picked up one of the bars that had been removed from the window.

“Look at this shit,” Chastain said. “He’s a big strong sumbitch, I will give him that. He managed to work those bed railings free that were bolted to the goddamn floor. Then he used them to pry the bars inside the window.”

“That opening was tight for him, too,” Book said. “Hard to see how he got his big frame through there.”

“Well, he damn sure did. Then he got goddamn Truitt out,” Chastain said, pointing to the window in Truitt’s cell. “He got out and then he pried those damn bars there from the outside.”

“I found these outside on the ground under Truitt’s window,” Book said, pointing to the rails leaning against the wall. “Been a lot of big, tough, strong men locked in these cells and, well, this is certainly a first.”

“When did somebody last have eyes on them?” Virgil said.

“Neil and Matt were on night duty,” Book said. “Neil said he shut the door here a little past ten o’clock.”

Book looked over and picked up a Bible and set it on the small table in Black’s cell.

“Neil said Black asked for this Bible,” Book said as he fanned the pages. “Neil said he gave it to him and then shut the door. That was the last anyone saw of them.”

Virgil looked at me.

“Black got started right away on getting this frame out of the floor,” Virgil said.

“Took a while, too, I suspect,” I said.

Virgil nodded.

“Don’t figure they been out all that long,” Virgil said.

Melvin and Luis, two of Chastain’s young deputies, came quickly into the office. Melvin was a big strapping kid covered with a constellation of freckles and Luis was a small Mexican fella with deep-set eyes and a scruffy goatee.

They were both out of breath as they poked their heads in the door.

“We got something,” Luis said, leaning over and breathing hard.

“What?” Chastain said.

“Found two horses and two saddles that were stolen early this morning,” Melvin said.

“Where?” Virgil said as he moved toward Melvin and Luis.

The two deputies backed into the front office with Virgil. Chastain, Book, and I followed.

“They were taken from the corral behind Mankin’s Mining outfit at the end of Fourth,” Melvin said with a point in that direction.

“Anybody see Black or Truitt?” Chastain said.

“No, sir,” Luis said. “Mr. Mankin said he found one of his three horses standing outside of his bedroom window this morning.”

Melvin quickly nodded in agreement.

“Said it woke him up,” Melvin said. “‘Chewing on the damn sill of the window. Said he didn’t think too much about it, thought the other two horses were just out, wandering around grazing someplace, then he saw the shed door was open, too, looked inside and found that two of his saddles were missing.”

“What time was this?” Virgil said.

Luis looked to Melvin.

“About four this morning,” Melvin said.

“You boys get back out there and check with the others,” Virgil said to Melvin and Luis, “see if anybody’s seen anything.”

Virgil followed them out onto the boardwalk and we followed Virgil.

“Everybody,” Virgil said to Melvin and Luis as they mounted up, “needs to keep their eyes open.”

Melvin and Luis swung up in a hurry and rode off.

Chastain looked at his watch.

“Almost seven now,” he said.

“They most likely got out and got those horses pretty close to when Mankin found them gone,” I said.

“Still kind of early,” Book said. “Not too many folks up and moving about just yet.”

“What now?” Chastain said.

Virgil thought for a moment, then said, “Where’s the painter?”