MacCallister Kingdom Come (6 page)

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Authors: William W. Johnstone

BOOK: MacCallister Kingdom Come
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Chapter Eight
Veigo, Texas
The town was small enough that almost everyone knew each other. Sitting in the Texas Republic Saloon, when they looked up to see who had pushed in through the batwing doors, it was with the expectation of seeing one of their own.
The man they saw wasn't one of their own. He was a relatively small man dressed all in black, with a narrow, hooked nose and close-set, very dark eyes. His face was pockmarked and one ear was missing an earlobe. A red feather protruded from the silver band wound around his low-crowned hat.
“Would you look at that?” murmured one of the saloon patrons. “You ever seen anyone that ugly?”
“I'd be careful if I was you, Jeb. Don't let 'im hear you? Don't you know who that is?” another asked.
“I ain't got a idea in hell who it is. Should I know?” Jeb asked.
“That's Manny Dingo,” the first said, speaking the name quietly and in great awe.
At Jeb's pronouncement the others grew quiet, as well. Manny Dingo had the reputation of being of quick temper and even quicker with a gun. Nobody knew how many men he had killed. Stories gave him credit for as few as twelve to as many as thirty.
Dingo looked around the saloon, then stepped up to the bar. “Whiskey.”
The bartender turned the bottle up over the glass, but his hand was shaking so that Dingo reached up to steady it. “In the glass. I don't plan on lickin' it up from the bar.”
“Y-y-yes sir, Mr. Dingo.”
“You know who I am?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, don't be afraid of me. I ain't kilt no bartenders yet.” Dingo laughed at his own joke.
Two young cowboys came into the saloon then, laughing and talking loudly. Both were wearing pistols, the holsters low, and tied down. They stepped up to the bar.
“Willie, two beers,” one of them said.
“And I'll have the same,” the other said, and the two men laughed.
“Hey, Standish, did you see the way Clemmons acted, when I told him if he said anything like that again about Sue Ann, that I was goin' to whip his ass? He damn near peed in his pants.”
“If you don't shoot 'im I will,” Standish said. “A man like him don't have no business around a girl like Sue Ann. So, tell me, Kenny, when are you goin' to get around to askin' her to marry you?
“Schoolteachers can't get married, you know that. Besides, a nice girl like Sue Ann, what could I do for her?” Kenny replied.
“Who is this Sue Ann that you boys is a-talkin' about?” Dingo asked.
“Miss Pittman, the schoolteacher,” Kenny replied.
“What did you answer him for, Kenny?” Standish asked. “Look at 'im. A fella like that don't have no need to know anythin' about a lady like Sue Ann.”
“Oh, I know all I need to know about Sue Ann Kennedy,” Dingo said with a smirking smile. “I know what she used to do over in Brackettville.”
“What?” Kenny literally shouted. “Mister, you had better take that back if you know what is good for you!”
“She's a harlot,” Dingo said. “And she ain't even a very good one. I heard she give a bunch of men the clap back in Dallas. That's how come she had to leave.”
“Mister, you watch your filthy mouth!” Kenny shouted, so angry that spittle was flying from her lips.
“Oh?” Dingo replied. “And if I don't watch my mouth, what are you going to do.”
“I'm goin' to beat the hell out of your scrawny little ass,” Kenny said.
“You want to fight, do you?”
“Damn right, I want to fight,” Kenny said as he began to unbuckle his gun belt.
“Uh-uh,” Dingo said. “If we're goin' to fight, let's make this permanent.”
“What do you mean?”
“You're wearin' a gun. Use it.”
“Wait a minute, mister. There ain't no reason to get into a shootin' match over this,” Standish said.
“You mean you don't want to defend Sue Ann's honor?”
“She ain't what you called her!” Loomis said.
“And I say she is. And the two of you are damn fools if you don't know it.”
“Mister, you've about pushed this too far,” Standish said. “You want to turn this into a shootin'? Well, you go ahead. Only think about this. There's two of us 'n only one of you.”
“So, you're willin' to die for your friend's lover, are you?” Dingo asked. “All right, I'm goin' to kill you first.”
“Mr. Dingo,” the bartender said. “This don't need to go no further. I know both these boys. They ride for the Double R Ranch. I'm sure if you asked them, they would apologize to you. Tell you what, why don't the three of you have a drink together and you can work this out. I'll provide the free drinks.”
“I ain't apologizin',” Kenny said. “Not after what he said about Sue Ann.”
“Kenny, are you sure you don't want to apologize to Mr. Dingo?
Manny
Dingo?” the bartender asked, emphasizing the name.
“Dingo?” Kenny said. “You . . . mean Manny Dingo . . . the gunfighter?”
“Yes, Manny Dingo the gunfighter.”
“Oh.” Kenny looked back toward Dingo, who had turned to face him and was holding his hand near his pistol.
Kenny forced a smile. “Mr. Dingo, seems like me 'n you got off on the wrong foot. Why don't we start over? We can have them drinks Willie mentioned.”
“It's too late,” Dingo said. “You two boys has done got me riled. Now the only way you can keep me from shootin' both of you is if you two get down on your hands 'n knees, crawl over here, 'n kiss my boots.”
“What?” Loomis exclaimed. “Mister, there ain't no way in hell I'm goin' to do somethin' like that.”
“Me neither,” Kenny said. “And I ain't goin' to draw on you neither—which means there ain't goin' to be no gunfight.”
Dingo smiled, but it wasn't a smile of humor. “You don't understand, do you boys? There don't have to be a gunfight.”
“Good. I thought you might see it my way,” Kenny said.
“I'm goin' to count to three, then I'm goin' to kill you whether you draw on me or not.”
“You can't do that! That would be pure murder!” Loomis said.
“Yeah, wouldn't it?” The smile didn't leave Dingo's lips. “One.”
“Damn, he means it, Kenny! We ain't goin' to let 'im just kill us, are we?”
“Two.”
Both Kenny and Standish went for their guns, but before either of them were able to clear their holster, Dingo had drawn, fired two times, and returned his gun to his holster, doing it so fast that most in the room hadn't even seen him draw.
Kenny and Loomis went down, both dead before they hit the floor.
Dingo turned to the others in the room. “I expect the law will be here in a couple minutes. You all seen that they drew first, right?”
“You made them draw,” Willie said. “They would never have drawn on you if you hadn't made 'em do it.”
“You think I would've really shot 'em, if they hadn't drawed on me?”
“I don't know,” Willie said. “It's clear they thought you would.”
“I wouldn't have. What would be the fun of just shooting them down?”
“Fun? You call this fun?”
“Yeah. Think about it. Ever'one who seen this can tell their children 'n their grandchildren that they seen Manny Dingo shoot down two men in a fair fight. Now, how 'bout them drinks you promised?”
 
 
From the
Chugwater Gazette:
English Businessman
Makes Large Deposit
 
To Buy Cattle from Local Rancher
 
All who live here in the enchanting Chugwater Valley know that our fair garden spot is blessed not only with nature's beauty, but also with bountiful water and grass which makes this area ideal for cattle ranching.
And now we have gained world-wide attention due to the business dealings of Mr. Calvin Hanson. Mr. Hanson, an Englishman, is but recently arrived in America. He left behind in his native country a group of English investors who, in starting a ranch in America, sought out our own Duff MacCallister. Mr. MacCallister is well-known throughout the entire West as being particularly successful in raising the specific breed of Black Angus.
To facilitate his purchase of the cattle needed to start his ranch, Mr. Hanson has placed on deposit with the Bank of Chugwater the exceptionally large sum of thirty thousand dollars. As a way of celebrating this milestone in the history of the Chugwater Bank, Mr. Montgomery, president of the bank, will be sponsoring a reception for Mr. Hanson at the Knights of Pythias Hall this very evening.
The hall was located over the bank and accessed by an outside stairway. Megan had been accurate in her prediction that there would be an event in Chugwater that would enable Melissa to wear the new dress Megan had made for her. But Melissa wasn't the only one to wear an original Megan creation. The dinner could well have been an advertisement for Megan's Dress Emporium, as almost every lady present was wearing one of her dresses.
When everyone was seated, but before the food was served, C. D. Montgomery stood and banged his spoon against the glass to get everyone's attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, I want to welcome you to this special reception tonight, given in honor of a visitor from England, who has arrived with cash in hand to bring business to our fair community. Mr. Hanson has come to buy cattle from our own Duff MacCallister.”
“A Scotsman and an Englishman doing business together,” Biff Johnson shouted, interrupting Montgomery. “That's reason enough for a celebration right there!”
The others laughed.
“Perhaps it is,” Montgomery agreed, “but I hasten to add, it is to the Scotsman that we owe our thanks for the steaks we'll be eating tonight. For they were carved from one of MacCallister's own Black Angus steers.”
“I thank ye for the kind words, Mr. Montgomery, but I want the Englishman to be aware that the animal that's being served here tonight will be tallied against those that Mr. Hanson buys.”
“To be sure sir, understanding the penurious nature of the Scottish, I would be disappointed if it were any other way,” Hanson said in good-natured response.
 
 
The next morning, Duff stood at the stagecoach depot with Megan, as they told Melissa, Jason, and Timmy good-bye. The Bowles family was taking the coach to Cheyenne, where they would board the train for the long trip back home.
“You will have to come visit us soon,” Melissa said to Duff. “You have been most hospitable, and I would like to return the favor.”
“Perhaps I will after I conclude my business with the Englishman,” Duff said. “It might be necessary to help him get the cattle settled on his ranch.”
“And he won't come alone, for I shall not allow that,” Megan said.
“Good, then it's all settled,” Melissa said with a happy smile.
“When you come, will you teach me to shoot as good as you do?” Timmy asked.
“Why, Timmy, whatever do you mean?” Duff asked. “Your father shot neck and neck with me for the whole time.”
“But you beat 'im,” Timmy said.
Jason Bowles laughed. “My goodness, Timmy, you're going to have to spend a lot of time learning things, aren't you? You want Duff to teach you how to shoot, and you want Mr. Wang to teach you how to fight. Are you sure you don't want your aunt Megan to teach you how to make dresses?”
“What? No! I don't want to learn how to make dresses!” Timmy said resolutely.
Jason laughed, and reached out to run his hand through his son's hair. “I'm just teasin' you.”
“Stagecoach is a-comin',” someone called.
At the call, a couple men came out of the stable behind the station leading a six-team hitch, already in harness. They had the team changed out in the amount of time it took the passengers and their luggage to be loaded.
With the team hitched and the passengers loaded, the driver cracked his whip, and the coach got underway at a rapid trot.
“Did you mean it when you said you would go to Texas?” Megan asked as they watched the coach roll swiftly out of town, trailed by a long, billowing, rooster tail of dust behind it.
“Yes, I meant it.”
Megan took Duff's arm in both her hands. “Good.”
“What do you mean, good?”
“Just good,” she said, smiling at him.
“Before I go back out to the ranch, I think I would like to stop by Vi's Pies, and have a piece of black and blue pie. Would you be for joining me?”
“I would love to join you, Duff MacCallister,” Megan said. “As long as I can choose my own pie.”
“Aye, that you can do. But why anyone would want anything other than black and blue pie is beyond me. 'Tis no better pie in the world.”
Vi Winslow greeted Duff and Megan effusively as they stepped into her establishment. The place was redolent with the aroma of freshly baked pies, which, except for coffee, tea, and milk, was the only thing she served. She did, however, serve a variety of pies, listing on her board twelve different kinds.
Upon arriving in Chugwater and stepping into Vi's Pies for the first time, Duff made the announcement that he was going to go through the entire list, one pie at a time. He started with apple, then apricot, then black and blue, which was a combination of blackberries and blueberries. He never got beyond that one, and now, he ordered black and blue every time he visited.

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