Chapter 3 of 3·5 min read·The afternoon and evening after the riders fled
A Share of the Trouble
The captured rider had been tied to a chair in Mrs. Noll’s washhouse, where the stink of lye did little to improve his opinion of the place.
The Man With No Phlegm stood opposite him with his injured hand wrapped in a strip of clean flour sack. The bandage had a red patch at the knuckles. Every time he flexed his fingers, it pulled.
“Your name,” the Man said.
“Pell.”
“Were you with Rusk when he left Hobb in the ditch?”
Pell glanced toward the door. Mrs. Noll had planted herself there, arms folded. “You know what he says.”
“I asked what you saw.”
Pell wet his lips. “I saw him chained.”
“And Rusk left him?”
“He rode off.”
The Man waited. Pell had the look of a man who wanted every answer to cost someone else first.
From the stable came a thick, choking cough. A moment later Hobb spat into a bucket. The sound was wet enough to make Pell’s face tighten.
Mrs. Noll heard it too. “He stays in that stable. You stay here. Neither of you goes near my girl.”
“I understand,” the Man said.
“See that you do.” She turned back to Pell. “And you can keep your boots off my floor when you answer.”
Pell drew his feet in beneath the chair.
The Man asked, “Why chase him for the payroll if you saw what Rusk did?”
Pell’s jaw moved. “Because Rusk said Hobb stole it.”
“He did take it.”
“He said it was owed.”
“Was it?”
Pell looked down at his bound wrists. The Man’s hand throbbed under its bandage. There was no good reason to let the silence become a room of its own.
“Were you one of the three?” he asked.
Pell looked up.
The stable door opened. Hobb came in with Mrs. Noll at his shoulder, one hand on his arm as if she expected him to fall or make a run for it. His face had gone pale beneath the grime. He carried the payroll purse in his left hand.
“I told you to stay in the stable,” Mrs. Noll said.
“I heard the questions.” Hobb’s eyes stayed on Pell. “Answer him.”
Pell sat still. “Yes. Rusk owed me six dollars.”
Hobb set the purse on a barrel. “He told me he’d paid you.”
Next
At first light, the Man and Hobb will ride east with the payroll and Pell’s testimony, hoping to reach Rusk before he can bring a larger crew back to Tallow Creek.
“He gave me two. Said the rest was for feed and my bunk.” Pell looked at the purse. “I rode after you because Rusk said there was enough in there to settle all our accounts.”
“And you believed him?”
“I needed to.”
Hobb stared at him. No one said anything for a few seconds. The Man could hear the rasp in Hobb’s breathing, and the faint clink of the purse settling against the barrel. Pell had ridden in with the others to drag Hobb back. He had also been owed money. The facts sat together without making either one easier.
“Did Rusk chain me?” Hobb asked.
Pell’s mouth tightened. “Yes.”
“Did he say leave me there?”
“He said you’d be dead by morning.”
Hobb looked at the purse. His left hand opened and closed once. The Man shifted toward him, careful of the right hand he could no longer trust.
Hobb took the purse, opened it, and counted out six dollars. He placed the coins on the barrel, one at a time. Pell watched each one land.
“Your wages,” Hobb said.
Pell leaned forward as far as the ropes allowed. “I rode against you.”
“I noticed.”
“Rusk will come back for that money.”
“He can come.”
“Hobb,” the Man said.
Hobb’s hand stopped over the purse. For a breath, the washhouse held only the small sounds of Pell swallowing and Mrs. Noll shifting her weight by the door.
“He’ll come back whether I ride after him or not,” Hobb said. “If I leave the purse here, he’ll have a reason to bring his men through this place again.”
“If you ride now,” Mrs. Noll said, “you’ll fall off before you reach the creek bend.”
Hobb glanced at her, then at the coins. His face had the stubborn set of a man who could argue longer than he could stand. “At first light, then.”
The Man’s bandaged hand gave out when he reached for the purse. Pain drove up his arm, and the sack slipped from his fingers. The coins inside clattered against the barrel. Hobb grabbed it before it fell.
The Man curled his injured hand against his coat. He had been trying to keep Hobb in place by putting his own body between Hobb and the door. With one hand nearly useless, that plan had become mostly a demonstration of poor balance.
“Can you ride?” Hobb asked.
“Can you?”
“Some.”
“Then we’ll both have to be satisfied with some.”
Mrs. Noll gave him a hard look. “You’re proposing to take him out of my stable and ride toward armed men.”
“I’m proposing we leave before they come here again.” The Man nodded at Pell. “He can tell us where Rusk went and who else is with him. The money goes to the men it was meant for. We deal with Rusk away from your daughter and your pump.”
“Deal with him how?” Hobb asked.
The Man met his eye. “We find out when we get there.”
Hobb’s gaze held a moment longer. The Man knew he had not talked Hobb out of wanting Rusk dead. He had only given him something else to do before deciding what to do about it.
Pell shifted in the chair. “Rusk rode east. He’ll go back to camp first.”
“How many men?” the Man asked.
“Could be five there. Could be ten. The crew’s scattered.” Pell’s eyes flicked to Hobb. “He’ll bring whoever wants their pay.”
“And tell them I stole it.”
“He’ll tell them you took their money and ran.” Pell looked at the six dollars on the barrel. “He won’t mention that part.”
Hobb picked up the coins. For an instant, the Man thought he would pocket them again. Instead he pushed them toward Pell.
“Keep them where you can see them. We’ll count the rest when we find the others.”
Pell looked at the money, then at Hobb. “You expect me to help you?”
“I expect you to remember who paid you.”
Mrs. Noll untied Pell’s wrists enough to let him hold the coins, then retied him to the chair. Pell didn’t resist. The arrangement seemed to satisfy nobody, which made it the first sensible one they had found.
A cough shook Hobb again. He bent over the bucket and brought up a long, pale clot that clung to the rim. Mrs. Noll took a step back. The Man kept his eyes on Hobb’s face and let him wipe his mouth on the sleeve he had already ruined.
“Stable,” Mrs. Noll said.
Hobb nodded. He didn’t argue this time.
The Man picked up the purse with his left hand. “At first light.”
Hobb started for the door, then paused. “You’ll be slower with that hand.”
“I’m used to being slower than I ought to be.”
“Then try not to make it worse.”
It was sound advice from a man who had spent the day making his own situation worse. Hobb went back toward the stable, carrying no weapon and leaving the six dollars with Pell. The Man followed with the remaining payroll, his right hand tucked close against his side.
Mrs. Noll barred the washhouse door behind them. The captive had his wages, Rusk had the road east, and Tallow Creek had until dawn to enjoy the rare comfort of knowing exactly where its trouble was headed.