didn’twant to know exactly because then nobody could beat it out of me. But I have an idea of where he probably is. I spent most of my life up in them mountains. Be a blind fool if I didn’t know where the best spots would be for hiding.”
“I need to find him first.”
He studied me long enough to make me uncomfortable.
“You ain’t a bounty hunter on the side, are you? I’ve heard how federal boys file them reports. They catch the bad man then get some friend of theirs to claim that he caught the fella. The check goes to the friend and he splits it with the federal man.”
“I’m not a bounty hunter.”
“I didn’t think so. Those fellas are always agitated. I used to be that way about pussy. I’d come down from the mountains three, four times a year and the minute I was around women—and I didn’t care if they were ugly or pretty or skinny or fat or white or colored—I’d be so agitated I could barely control myself. But I always had to pay for pussy. No decent woman would want me. I could take five hot baths a day and I’d still smell like a mountain man. At least that’s what all the decent women told me.”
He sat back, rocked some more.
“But what these bounty boys is agitated about is money and the chance to kill somebody all legal-like. The money’s nice, too, and they sure do want it. But what really works them up is hunting the man. So they get all worked up—it’s just like havin’ a hard-on and no woman around—and the only way they can get settled is to kill somebody. That’s why they kill each otherso often. Can’t find nobody else and most lawmen don’t give a damn about a bounty man getting killed. He probably figures ‘good riddance.’” He paused. “But you ain’t a bounty man so why you want him? And it ain’t your case—leastways, Pepper said it was his and Connelly’s—so what’s your interest?”
“A friend of mine got killed tonight. The one everybody’s blaming Mike Chaney for. But I don’t think he did it.”
“Who you after then?”
“Connelly and Pepper. That’s where I’ll start.”
He grinned. “Then you’re all right by me.”
He set to rocking back and forth again. Smoking his pipe. The wind damned near knocked the shed over several times. God alone knew what held it up. He didn’t seem to notice. He had his pipe and his stove and his rocking chair. He was almost serene.
“You ever meet Chaney?”
“Nope.”
“I known him since he was a little boy. He was one of the nicest, kindest little boys I ever knew. And when he growed up, he was just the same way. And when he robbed banks, it was only Flannery banks because the Flannerys were dirty dealin’ all the farmers and ranchers, not even givin’ them any time at all to pay off their mortgages.”
“Yeah, I know all that. Maybe he was right to do that, maybe he wasn’t. My concern is that he’s also a killer.”
“That’s the part that don’t figure. He was the one who’d always step between and stop a fight, not start one. I seen him handle himself all right a couple timeshe had to. But killin’ somebody—that just doesn’t make any sense to me.”
“Then I’m your best bet, Mr. Gage. You give me a map showing me where you think I’ll find him—just the general area—and I promise you I’ll do everything I can to bring him down that mountain alive.”
He rocked some more. Stared straight at the stove door as if he could see images on it.
You had to be a little bit envious of Chaney. Having friends so loyal they’d hide him. Having friends so loyal they spoke of him as if he were not simply a legend but a saintly legend.
He yawned. “This is way past my sleepin’ time.”
“Sorry.”
“When you figure on leaving?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
He yawned.
“Stove gets me that sleepy. Never fails. Some nights I’m too lazy to even get up out of this old rocker. I just sleep in it all night.”
“Wish I could sleep like that. Have a hard time with it a
“I need to find him first.”
He studied me long enough to make me uncomfortable.
“You ain’t a bounty hunter on the side, are you? I’ve heard how federal boys file them reports. They catch the bad man then get some friend of theirs to claim that he caught the fella. The check goes to the friend and he splits it with the federal man.”
“I’m not a bounty hunter.”
“I didn’t think so. Those fellas are always agitated. I used to be that way about pussy. I’d come down from the mountains three, four times a year and the minute I was around women—and I didn’t care if they were ugly or pretty or skinny or fat or white or colored—I’d be so agitated I could barely control myself. But I always had to pay for pussy. No decent woman would want me. I could take five hot baths a day and I’d still smell like a mountain man. At least that’s what all the decent women told me.”
He sat back, rocked some more.
“But what these bounty boys is agitated about is money and the chance to kill somebody all legal-like. The money’s nice, too, and they sure do want it. But what really works them up is hunting the man. So they get all worked up—it’s just like havin’ a hard-on and no woman around—and the only way they can get settled is to kill somebody. That’s why they kill each otherso often. Can’t find nobody else and most lawmen don’t give a damn about a bounty man getting killed. He probably figures ‘good riddance.’” He paused. “But you ain’t a bounty man so why you want him? And it ain’t your case—leastways, Pepper said it was his and Connelly’s—so what’s your interest?”
“A friend of mine got killed tonight. The one everybody’s blaming Mike Chaney for. But I don’t think he did it.”
“Who you after then?”
“Connelly and Pepper. That’s where I’ll start.”
He grinned. “Then you’re all right by me.”
He set to rocking back and forth again. Smoking his pipe. The wind damned near knocked the shed over several times. God alone knew what held it up. He didn’t seem to notice. He had his pipe and his stove and his rocking chair. He was almost serene.
“You ever meet Chaney?”
“Nope.”
“I known him since he was a little boy. He was one of the nicest, kindest little boys I ever knew. And when he growed up, he was just the same way. And when he robbed banks, it was only Flannery banks because the Flannerys were dirty dealin’ all the farmers and ranchers, not even givin’ them any time at all to pay off their mortgages.”
“Yeah, I know all that. Maybe he was right to do that, maybe he wasn’t. My concern is that he’s also a killer.”
“That’s the part that don’t figure. He was the one who’d always step between and stop a fight, not start one. I seen him handle himself all right a couple timeshe had to. But killin’ somebody—that just doesn’t make any sense to me.”
“Then I’m your best bet, Mr. Gage. You give me a map showing me where you think I’ll find him—just the general area—and I promise you I’ll do everything I can to bring him down that mountain alive.”
He rocked some more. Stared straight at the stove door as if he could see images on it.
You had to be a little bit envious of Chaney. Having friends so loyal they’d hide him. Having friends so loyal they spoke of him as if he were not simply a legend but a saintly legend.
He yawned. “This is way past my sleepin’ time.”
“Sorry.”
“When you figure on leaving?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
He yawned.
“Stove gets me that sleepy. Never fails. Some nights I’m too lazy to even get up out of this old rocker. I just sleep in it all night.”
“Wish I could sleep like that. Have a hard time with it a
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