Western Omelette

Well That Was a Surprise

Mason Montgomery sipped from his glass, watching the man sitting opposite. He flinched slightly at the voice as it seemed to scrape the air from the room. The time had come, he thought. No more wasting effort trying to talk Easterly into selling, or scaring him off. Action, and the man in the room with him was the answer.

"I said, where do you want it done?"

"Sorry. I was just thinking how long I've waited for this to happen."

"You could have moved sooner. My brother was killed a long time ago."

"I was up against the Pinkertons. If I had moved back then, we all would have been hunted down. As it is, he's still one of theirs."

"That's why I'm not doing it."

"What!" Montgomery spilled his drink. "What do mean, you--"

"I've got two men, primed, paid and ready to go. Our agreement still stands – as well as the money you promised." The voice scratched in Montgomery's ear.

The man went to the table beside his host and picked up the bottle, swilling a long mouthful and setting it back down, carefully.

"That's why I want to know where you want it done. His place? On the trail, or publicly in town?"

"Wouldn't you like to make that choice, considering your brother?"

"Town it is."

"Houseman, no back feed to me. Remember."

"You just get that money together, I'll be back soon to collect."

****

Hoke left the telegraph office, crushing the reply in his hand as he stalked toward the sheriff's office. He might have known the agency wouldn't move on a rumour, and if the sheriff hadn't said anything, he was stumped as to what to do.

"Hoke, you realize the kinda weight Montgomery carries in Nugget? I can't go out there on say so and accuse him of breaking the law." The sheriff began his defence as soon as the door opened.

"It was his own man Morley that told me. Ask him."

The sheriff pulled at his chin and went behind his desk. "Morley and a couple of other boys left town last night."

Hoke gaped. "Left! What more do you need? He wanted no part of it.

"They coulda just gone somewhere on ranch business, Hoke."

"You ain't gonna do anything, are ya?"

The sheriff held his hands out, shrugging, and trying to look sympathetic.

****

"Hate to be a bother," the hotel clerk fumbled, as Hoke entered the hotel, heading for the saloon. "There's the matter of eight dollars owed for the lady's room . . . and uh, another three for you."

"I ain't got it all right now, Edward. Soon as my pay comes in, you'll get it."

"Sure, but when is that, Hoke? I hafta answer to the company."

"Look, here's two dollars. I need some to live on 'til then."

"When is then, Hoke?"

"I'll check with the telegraph first thing in the mornin'. You know I'm good for it, Edward." He patted the clerk's arm, turning away and entering the saloon.

A few of the ever present frequenters were huddled at their regular tables, random burps or a shuffle of feet the only sounds. Conversation long since used up. Hoke leaned on the bar and asked about Morley.