yours, Perry's, or Joe's. I don't quite know how you came by this arithmetic. I'm owed three thousand."
There was a chilling, clinking sound in the soft evening air as Joe twirled the necklace of bullets around his left forefinger. The noise was getting to Billy.
Nerves ragged, Perry complained to Art, "I wish you'd make Joe quit playin' with that."
Art's eyes stayed steady on Billy. "He likes to keep his hands occupied. That's his only fun, Perry."
Joe grinned broadly and kept on twirling. His mouth was full of jelly candies, and colored saliva dripped at the corners.
Then Art addressed himself to Billy, matter-of-factly. "Back in McLean, I said we'd share I didn't say we'd share exactly even. Now, I put up the money for these horses, that fancy suit you got on, that shinin' silver star you tossed away. Paid your hotel bill in McLean, Tucson, and Wickenburg. Now I figure you got your fair share, Billy Boy. Five hundred."
Billy glanced down at the measly pile by his boot toes. Added to that pittance, they no longer needed him. There was no reason on God's peaceful earth not to leave him shot up in Dunbar's.
Billy looked back at Art and smiled, letting every muscle in his body go lax. He decided to play it humble "I guess I'm beholden to you at that. You invited me along."
"Very true," said Art, smiling back. "We should part friendly. So why don't you pick up your share an' ride. Well go on south. You go west, Billy. Someday we'll meet again. You did a good job, Billy Boy, by grannies."
Billy felt wrath rising, heat coming to his temples, but he kept the smile carefully on his face. He nodded. "I am grateful. Everythin' considered, I suppose I'm most fortunate" He opened two middle buttons of his shirt and bent to begin gathering his share. "You lifted me out o' povertyâ" Although his eyes were momentarily on his shirtfront, he instinctively knew Art was easing for his gun.
Billy went on gabbing. "âopened your heartsâ"
As the hand that put the loot into the shirt came out, it held the little silver-inlaid Colt .41 caliber derringer, cocked. Billy's voice turned frigid as he finished the sentence, "âopened my eyes. Now, back up about six feet, you bastards."
They gawked at the hole of the little gun. Art's thick palms went slowly above his head. Perry and Joe, mouths now intakes for flies, followed suit. The necklace stopped clinking.
Billy's sudden tense laugh, almost a dry cough, caromed around the rocks. No more than ten minutes of gray light remained. Dunbar's was fading into darkness.
Billy shook his head in mock chastisement and clucked his tongue. "Art, you should learn not to be so greedy. And to think you actually wanted to shoot me."
Art glared back but made no answer. He'd been around enough not to challenge the gun sighted between his eyes.
Joe asked angrily, "Pa, we gonna let him take the stuff?"
"Shut up, Joe," Perry said.
Pushing words through clenched teeth, Art ordered, "An' stay still, Joe. This boy's faster'n you are."
Billy couldn't help but grin. "You better listen to your pa, Joe. Now come close together." He waited. "Little closer. That's good. Now smile, fellows."
They did look humorous to Billy, like they were posing for one of those "caught outlaw" photographs. He quickly changed hands with the derringer and drew his right .44, dropping the small gun to the blanket. "Now we got somethin' that does command respect."
Forcing himself to plea, Art blurted, "We'll settle for half, Billy."
Billy's smile widened. "Sharin's the thing, I know" he said, bending slightly to pull the four corners of the blanket together, transferring the loot to the burlap bag. "I'm gettin' practiced at this..."
"Half, Billy," Art pleaded.
"Honesty is a virtue ... Treachery's an awful sin..."
He saw Joe's right hand plummet down, and he flicked the .44 barely an inch. It jumped in his hand as he squeezed the trigger. Joe went backward as if chopped behind the knee, the necklace squirting
There was a chilling, clinking sound in the soft evening air as Joe twirled the necklace of bullets around his left forefinger. The noise was getting to Billy.
Nerves ragged, Perry complained to Art, "I wish you'd make Joe quit playin' with that."
Art's eyes stayed steady on Billy. "He likes to keep his hands occupied. That's his only fun, Perry."
Joe grinned broadly and kept on twirling. His mouth was full of jelly candies, and colored saliva dripped at the corners.
Then Art addressed himself to Billy, matter-of-factly. "Back in McLean, I said we'd share I didn't say we'd share exactly even. Now, I put up the money for these horses, that fancy suit you got on, that shinin' silver star you tossed away. Paid your hotel bill in McLean, Tucson, and Wickenburg. Now I figure you got your fair share, Billy Boy. Five hundred."
Billy glanced down at the measly pile by his boot toes. Added to that pittance, they no longer needed him. There was no reason on God's peaceful earth not to leave him shot up in Dunbar's.
Billy looked back at Art and smiled, letting every muscle in his body go lax. He decided to play it humble "I guess I'm beholden to you at that. You invited me along."
"Very true," said Art, smiling back. "We should part friendly. So why don't you pick up your share an' ride. Well go on south. You go west, Billy. Someday we'll meet again. You did a good job, Billy Boy, by grannies."
Billy felt wrath rising, heat coming to his temples, but he kept the smile carefully on his face. He nodded. "I am grateful. Everythin' considered, I suppose I'm most fortunate" He opened two middle buttons of his shirt and bent to begin gathering his share. "You lifted me out o' povertyâ" Although his eyes were momentarily on his shirtfront, he instinctively knew Art was easing for his gun.
Billy went on gabbing. "âopened your heartsâ"
As the hand that put the loot into the shirt came out, it held the little silver-inlaid Colt .41 caliber derringer, cocked. Billy's voice turned frigid as he finished the sentence, "âopened my eyes. Now, back up about six feet, you bastards."
They gawked at the hole of the little gun. Art's thick palms went slowly above his head. Perry and Joe, mouths now intakes for flies, followed suit. The necklace stopped clinking.
Billy's sudden tense laugh, almost a dry cough, caromed around the rocks. No more than ten minutes of gray light remained. Dunbar's was fading into darkness.
Billy shook his head in mock chastisement and clucked his tongue. "Art, you should learn not to be so greedy. And to think you actually wanted to shoot me."
Art glared back but made no answer. He'd been around enough not to challenge the gun sighted between his eyes.
Joe asked angrily, "Pa, we gonna let him take the stuff?"
"Shut up, Joe," Perry said.
Pushing words through clenched teeth, Art ordered, "An' stay still, Joe. This boy's faster'n you are."
Billy couldn't help but grin. "You better listen to your pa, Joe. Now come close together." He waited. "Little closer. That's good. Now smile, fellows."
They did look humorous to Billy, like they were posing for one of those "caught outlaw" photographs. He quickly changed hands with the derringer and drew his right .44, dropping the small gun to the blanket. "Now we got somethin' that does command respect."
Forcing himself to plea, Art blurted, "We'll settle for half, Billy."
Billy's smile widened. "Sharin's the thing, I know" he said, bending slightly to pull the four corners of the blanket together, transferring the loot to the burlap bag. "I'm gettin' practiced at this..."
"Half, Billy," Art pleaded.
"Honesty is a virtue ... Treachery's an awful sin..."
He saw Joe's right hand plummet down, and he flicked the .44 barely an inch. It jumped in his hand as he squeezed the trigger. Joe went backward as if chopped behind the knee, the necklace squirting
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