The Stranger from Abilene

Chapter 70

Kelly, rain dripping from his hat and slicker, stormed into the bank, letting a glass door slam shut behind him.

A startled clerk looked up from the counter, his face registering puzzlement, then shock.

“Where’s St. John?” the marshal said.

The clerk fumbled for words, finally found his tongue, and said, “He’s with a client and can’t be disturbed.”

Kelly walked to the end of the counter, lifted the flap, and strode purposely toward St. John’s door. He tried the handle but the door was locked.

He looked at the clerk. “You, key!”

The man wrung his hands, his face anguished. “Marshal, there’s only one key to that door and Mr. St. John locked it from the inside.”

He managed a weak smile. “If you’d care to wait . . .”

Kelly smiled in turn, nodded. Then raised his boot and smashed the door in, splintered oak erupting from the lock. The door slammed hard against the wall and Kelly heard the terrified clerk shriek.

St. John, his huge arm draped over Minnie’s narrow shoulders, jerked his head toward the door. Now he hurled himself up from the leather couch.

“This is an outrage!” the man yelled, his face purple with fury.

Minnie leaped from the couch.

“Marshal Kelly, I didn’t do nothing,” she said. “I’m a good girl. Honest, I am.”

“Get out of here, Minnie,” Kelly said.

The girl hurriedly stepped toward the door, then stood as still as a statue, her eyes wide as silver dollars, as Kelly said, “Wait!”

He looked at St. John. “Pay her.”

“What?”

“I said, pay her.”

The fat man protested. “Damn you, I never even started.”

Suddenly a Bulldog was in Kelly’s hand. “Pay her or I’ll put one right in your fat gut.”

St. John tried to retreat into bluster. “Kelly, I’ll have your job for this. I’ll see you jailed.”

Kelly thumbed back the hammer of the Bulldog, shortening the trigger pull so much a breath of wind could set it off.

“I won’t say it again, Terry. Pay her.”

The fat man blanched and his jowls trembled. “That’s not my name.”

Kelly pushed the Bulldog forward and St. John immediately reached into his pocket and found a coin.

“Double, Terry. Pay her double.”

“Marshal Kelly, you don’t need to—”

“Shut up, Minnie.”

St. John, badly frightened, dropped money into the girl’s hand.

“Now get out of here, Minnie,” Kelly said.

The girl fled and Kelly motioned with the gun. “Sit at the desk, Terry.”

The fat man did as he was told, his slack mouth twitching.

A moment later the clerk stuck his head in the doorway.

“Are you all right, Mr. St. John?”

Kelly turned on him, his gun up and ready. “Get the hell away from here.”

The clerk squealed and scampered back from the door. Kelly pushed it shut behind him.

He stepped to the desk and threw the paper in front of the fat man.

“Read it,” he said.

St. John glanced at the note. Immediately his eyes popped and his hands trembled. He looked up at Kelly. “What are you showing me? The mayor is dead?”

“Read it,” Kelly said.

The fat man’s eyes dropped to the paper. When he finished reading he looked like a man about to have a heart attack.

“Lies,” he said, his voice a whisper. “It’s all lies. I have lawyers. I can beat this.”

“I’ll let the United States Marshal decide that, Terry. And I’ll wire the Texas Rangers. I’m sure they’ll be interested.”

St. John raised bloodshot eyes to Kelly’s face, the threat of the Rangers scaring him badly. “What will happen to me?”

“I’ll hang you. Or the Rangers will.”

St. John sat in silence for a while, then said, “Do I have an out?”

“Not that I can see,” Kelly said.

“Money?”

Kelly shook his head.

“I should have gunned Quarrels years ago,” the fat man said. “When he first began to squeeze me.”

“Seems like.”

St. John’s hand strayed to the bottom drawer of his desk.

“Open it, Terry,” Kelly said, his eyes glittering. “Please.”

The fat man pulled his hand away as though it had been burned.

“On your feet,” Kelly said.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To jail. Where you belong.”