This story was a collaboration with someone who doesn't want to be associated with it anymore.
***
"At long last!"
"Well bless my soul," the bartender said, looking up with a grin, "
Crazy
Walt Higgins."
Walt smiled, a largely toothless affair, and capered around one of the mismatched tables. The bartender, the eldest Tatum brother, stamped his heel into the bare floorboard to keep time as Crazy Walt weaved and danced across the room. His gnarled beard was too stiff to do much more than lay against his chest, and he laughed as he bowed with a flourish of his broad hat. "Thank you, thank you."
"I heard tell you and yer boys've been havin' quite a streak."
"Aw c'mon now, Jesse," Walt said, leaning against the bar. "Gossip ain't worth a shit." He shifted his weight, casually crossing one dusty boot over the other while looking around the otherwise-empty room, and grinned. "But
yeah.
"
Both men howled with laughter. Walt slapped his open palm down against the polished wood repeatedly.
"They can't stop us," the outlaw cried, pronouncing it like
kaynt
.
"They can't," the bartender repeated, matching Walt's cadence with a red-faced guffaw.
"Soon as they start lookin' one way,
here I come from th'other side!
"
The bartender chuckled and shook his head. "Shit, Walt. Heard you hit a
train
this time."
"We did," Walt said, settling onto one of the barstools. His eyes grew wide as he eased into the tale. "We surely did. Hit a payroll transport. Only we hit 'em when they's stopped in Golden. Me an' Trigger slipped on and held 'em up real quick like b'fore the driver knew anythin' about it. Then we caught a couple stagecoaches coming up around Saratoga and, uh..." Walt grinned. "...
lightened their load
a little."
"Hoo-wee," Jesse said, grinning ear to ear. "What was yer take?"
Walt leaned forward, letting the moment grow pregnant with anticipation "Four. Hunnert. Dollars."
"Shoot!" the bartender scoffed. "I ain't never seen that much money in my whole life!"
Another man, several inches shorter than Walt, came in out of the mid-morning sun and immediately mimicked the smiles of the other two, laughing without having been in the room. Jesse pulled out five mismatched cups and started pouring out their whiskey.
"Ahhh," Walt said, raising his eyebrows. "Best pull out one more."
"Oh? A new man?"
"Crack shot too," Walt said, leaning in conspiratorially. "Killed three
Pinkertons
on our way outta Golden."
"Thought Riley only shot the one," said the shorter man, as he sat down on the next barstool.
"Shut up, Trigger," Walt cried, rounding on the other man. "You were up in the front. You didn't see
Smilin' Riley
pop up on the back 'a that gray mare he rides and
BLAM!
" Walt rose up, feet on the rungs of his barstool like stirrups, and mimicked a rifle shot from horseback. "
BLAM! BLAM!
"
The bartender repeated, "Smilin' Riley," softly, with reverence.
"Oh yeah," Walt said, turning back around and knocking back his first glass of whiskey. "Yeah, I tell you what. He is
cold-blooded
."
"Yeah," Trigger brayed.
"He's a killer," Walt said, turning serious for a moment. The door opened behind them, and a third, even taller, man came through. "We hooked up with him 'bout three months back. Game of cards went wrong south of Denver. Worthless shit called Little Hugo here a cheat."
"What'd I do?" Hugo said, as he lumbered across the room.
"Ya didn't cheat!" Walt cried, furious at being interrupted.
"Yea I did," Hugo said, furrowing his brow.
"Will you..." Walt shook his head and sat back down. "Point is, they pulled on us quick-like."
"I can't win none if I don't cheat, so-"
"Hugo, I'm in the middle of this here!"
Hugo frowned as he sat down, and Jesse slid him his glass of Whiskey.
"Anyway," Walt said, stretching and twisting, "they had us by numbers, and all of a sudden this kid come outta nowhere with a Spencer carbine. Drops two of 'em in one shot,
surprised
'em, and we blasted our way outta there."
"I always wanted me a Spencer," Jesse said, nearly drooling.
Hugo looked down at his whiskey sadly. "Tector was cheatin' too."
"Dammit Hugo." Walt turned on his stool and fixed a stare on the big man that set him on his heels. "You wanna stay here in'is room all day?"
"No," Hugo said sullenly.
"Then
shut up.
"
Jesse's brother, Emit, came in through the back and clasped hands with Trigger and Walt by turns. "Where's Black Rob and Tector at?" Emit asked.
"Aw," Walt said, turning and frowning, "they's likely over at the general store. They'll be along in a bit."
"So who's'at on the porch?"
Jesse leaned in close and whispered, "
Smilin' Riley.
"
"Colder than the shady side of a witch's titty. You cross 'im," Walt added with a grin, "and he'll smile while he fills your belly with lead."
Emit nodded, leaning away. After a few minutes, Tector and Black Rob joined them, and the celebratory drinking began in earnest.
***
Walt leaned heavily on the bar, whiskey weighing him down. Tector and Trigger were already upstairs enjoying themselves, while Black Rob and Hugo kept company downstairs. A girl sat in each man's lap, giggling and helping them decide which cards to play. The two Tatums stood close, staring out into the bright afternoon at the silhouette that had been perched on their porch for hours.
"He don't look so cold-blooded to me, brother," Emit said, his voice low. "Looks like one of the girls when they's sulking. You know, after gettin' slapped 'r somethin'."
"I don't know," Jesse said slowly, in equally hushed tones. "I don't like the way he's smilin'. Like he knows somethin' we don't."