Crow Bait

Eleven

Lancaster left the doctor’s office and went right to the local Wells Fargo office. As he entered, the burly man seated at the desk looked up and raised bushy eyebrows.

“Well, you made it,” he said.

“Just barely.”

“Have a seat,” the Wells Fargo man said. “You don’t look so good.”

“I don’t feel so good.” Lancaster extended his hand to the man, who shook it. Then he took a seat.

“What happened?” Andy Black asked.

Lancaster told his friend the story, right up to the visit to the doctor’s office.

“So you’re okay?” Andy asked.

“I’ll be okay,” Lancaster said, “as soon as I catch up to the sons of bitches who left me for dead.”

“Did you see them? Know who they are?”

“My memory of the event is sketchy,” Lancaster said. “But I’ll get it back. First I’ve got to get outfitted. If I could get some pay in advance—”

“Lancaster,” Andy said, sitting back and placing his hand on his ample belly, “I’m sorry, but when you didn’t show up I had to give the job to someone else.”

That wasn’t what Lancaster wanted to hear. He was only in Laughlin because Andy Black had asked him to come to do a job for Wells Fargo. But he had to understand.

“Okay, Andy,” he said, pushing slowly to his feet. “I understand.”

“I’m really sorry, Lancaster.” Andy stood up and reached out to his friend.

“Forget it, Andy,” Lancaster said, heading for the door.

“Hey, wait, wait,” Andy said, coming around his desk. “How you gonna get outfitted, or even get a hotel room? You got a horse?”

“The same one that carried me out of the desert.”

“I thought you said he was crow bait?”

“I said that was his name,” Lancaster said.

“Look, Lancaster,” Andy said, “wait a minute.”

He went behind his desk to the Wells Fargo safe, opened it, and took out a steel lockbox.

“I don’t need a handout, Andy,” Lancaster said.

“This ain’t a handout, Lancaster,” Andy said. “At least let me cover your expenses. You’re only here because of me.”

He came around the desk. “Here’s enough to pay your doctor bill, a meal, and some clothes.”

“Thanks, Andy.” Lancaster accepted the money.

“And we keep a couple of hotel rooms at the Laughlin House Hotel for when some Wells Fargo personnel come to town. I can let you have one of those rooms for as long as you stay—that is, as long as none of my bosses come to town.”

“I really appreciate this, Andy,” Lancaster said. “I’ll pay you back.”

“It’s company money,” Andy said. “I’m sure you’ll be workin’ for us at some point soon. So why don’t we just go ahead and call it an advance, like you asked for in the first place?”

Lancaster shook his friend’s hand and said, “Agreed.”

“Meet me here after five and I’ll buy you a steak,” Andy said. “We can catch up—or talk about how you can find those three bastards.”

“Okay, I’ll be here.”

“I’ll send a message over to the hotel now,” Andy said. “Your room will be waitin’ when you get there.”

Lancaster nodded his thanks and left the office.

After paying his doctor bill—to the surprise of the doctor—he went and checked in at the Laughlin House. True to Andy’s word, a room was waiting for him. In fact, it was a two-room suite, which was more than he needed.

What he needed was a bath, and some new clothes. After that, a meal with Andy, and maybe some conversation that might bring his memory back into focus.

And he had to see about Crow Bait. He decided to do that first.

He found the livery and told the man he was there about the Indian pony.

“That crow bait?” the man asked. “You the crazy man who’s payin’ for that horse to take up one of my stalls?”

“I’m the crazy man,” Lancaster said. “I want him well fed and cared for. I want to put some weight back on him. Understand?”

“I understand,” the man said, “but I don’t know why. It’ll take more than some weight—”

“How much?” Lancaster asked.

“How long you gonna be in town?”

“A few days, maybe.”

“Gimme three dollars for now.”

Lancaster gave him the money.

“My name’s Mal. I’ll take good care of him, but I don’t know how much good it will do.”

“My name is Lancaster, and I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

He had a bath, then bought some new clothes, but he spent the money Andy Black had given him sparingly. One shirt, one pair of trousers, one pair of boots, socks, and underwear.

“I’ll need a saddle,” he told the clerk. “Where can I get one in town?”

“A good one?”

“A good used one.”

“Is your horse at the livery?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s where I’d get the saddle.”

“That’s what I thought,” Lancaster said. “Thanks.”

He left the general store, wearing all of his new clothes—except for the hat, which was the same one he’d been wearing in the desert. A new one could come later.

He walked over to the Wells Fargo office at five minutes to five.