The Stranger from Abilene

“The people who work in St. John’s bank won’t tell me anything. They depend on him for their livelihood.”

“You’ll try?”

“Yes, Cage, I’ll try.”

Then Clayton said something that surprised Kelly and for a moment left him tongue-tied.

“Did you speak to Emma? About my mother?”

Clayton could see the lawman squirm, searching his reeling mind for words. Finally he said, “When I left her tonight, she was thinking about it.”

“Not much to think about if you love a person.”

Kelly made a strange face, almost a grimace. “She’s thinking about any children you might have.”

And right then Cage Clayton died a little death.

Chapter 63

“Mr. Clayton, you’ve played hob.”

Mayor Quarrels mopped up the last of the gravy on his plate with a piece of bread and, to reinforce his statement, said, “Just . . . played . . . hob.”

“Is that why you invited me to lunch, to tell me that?” Clayton said.

“Yes, that, and to ask you, nicely, mind, to get the hell out of my town.”

Clayton smiled, but said nothing, waiting for the mayor to talk again.

They were the only customers in Mom’s kitchen. Quarrels had made a late-afternoon appointment with Clayton for that very reason.

The mayor sat back in his chair, sighed, and lit a cigar.

“Since you got here, there’s been nothing but death and destruction,” he said. “Colonel Southwell, his wife, Shad Vestal, now Moses Anderson and his woman . . . the list seems to go on and on.”

He stabbed his cigar in Clayton’s direction. “To say nothing of the man you gunned in the saloon and the one you crippled.”

Quarrels sighed and shook his head.

“I’ve got nothing against you personally, Mr. Clayton. You did well when you helped Marshal Kelly track down the Apaches, but, damn it all, you seem to have been born under a dark star.”

The mayor attempted a smile, failed, then said, “You’re a bad influence on this town and I want you far away from it.”

Clayton waited while Mom refilled his coffee cup, then lit a cigarette and said, “I’ll leave when I prove that Ben St. John is really Lissome Terry, the man responsible for the death of my mother.”

“Nook Kelly told me about your suspicions. He says you also claim that Mr. St. John murdered Moses and his woman.”

“He’s right. I do, and I mean to prove it.”

“All that is errant nonsense. Mr. St. John is a valued member of this community, a man of impeccable reputation. Why would he commit murder, for heaven’s sake?”

Clayton didn’t feel like going into it. Nothing he could say would change Quarrels’s mind anyway. He sat in silence, waiting. It was a while before the mayor spoke again.

Finally, as though he’d just gotten all his thoughts in order, Quarrels said, “Here’s what we’re willing to do—”

“Who’s we?”

“Myself and the leading citizens of Bighorn Point.”

“Ah.”

“One thousand dollars in gold, Mr. Clayton, cash on the barrelhead.”

Quarrels beamed. “What do you think of that?”

“What do you want in return?”

“Leave this town and never come back.”

“Who’s putting up the money? St. John?”

“He and others, including myself.”

Clayton smiled. “Bighorn Point must want to get rid of me real bad. I must be a desperate character.”

“Oh, we do and you are. I thought I made that clear.”

What Clayton didn’t want now was an ultimatum—get out of town by dark or else.

He played for time. “Let me study on it, Mayor. A thousand in gold is a lot of money.”

Quarrels’s face hardened. “All right, but don’t think about it too long.”

“I’ll let you know my answer soon.”

“For your sake, Mr. Clayton, I hope you decide to take the money.”

Chapter 64

“Well, did your plan work? Did Clayton bite?”

Mayor Quarrels ushered Ben St. John into a chair in front of his desk.

When the fat man was settled, he said, “He’s studying on it.”

“I want him out of here, John, one way or another.”

“I think he’ll take the money and run.”

“Damn it, I don’t want ‘I think.’ I want ‘I know.’ ”

“All right, then, Ben. I know he’ll take the money.”

St. John lit a cigar. “Back in the old days I would have taken care of this myself.”

“Back in the old days you were good with a gun, Ben.” Quarrels smiled. “You’re a tad out of practice.”

“I can still take him, if I have to.”

“Maybe. Just remember to make it look good for Kelly.”

Quarrels stepped to a tray of bottles and glasses in front of his office window. He poured three fingers of whiskey for himself and St. John and returned to his desk.

Without looking at the other man, Quarrels said, “Why Moses and his woman?”

St. John was startled and the hand holding his glass shook. “You know?”

Quarrels smiled. “Of course I know. I heard that Moses was seen talking to Clayton out at the Southwell Ranch. At first I didn’t think much about it, but when Moses was shot, I started putting two and two together.”

“I didn’t want him talking to Clayton about the dead whores.”

“Yeah, I figured that. I knew you were scared that Moses would blab to Clayton about the two ladies. After all, he helped you get rid of the bodies, remember?”

“He helped us get rid of the bodies.”