luck.’
‘You’d best explain that to us,’ Ted remarked, sounding puzzled.
‘Sure. It’s been going on between Beegee and me for a few—all right, for at least fifteen years. Whenever we got together in the same saloon we’d try to leave own with each other’s best dress and jewellery. One time I told the boss girl that Beegee had been calling her names, and left town with all Beegee’s clothes, except for an old dress while they were fighting. Another time Beegee got word to some tough mick railroad worker’s wife that he and I were having fun. I wasn’t in shape to stop Beegee taking off with a new feather boa and everything but five dollars and a gingham dress that I owned. We didn’t mean anything by it. I’d slipped Beegee a drink from the little green bottle under the bar one time, got away with everything except what she stood up in, or lay under the table in. It was six months later that Beegee caught up with me—and I was down with fever and flat broke. Beegee worked and kept me, got me well again. Then when she bust her leg, in a stagecoach crash, I left a good job in a Texas saloon to go take care of her and pay her doctor’s fees.’
‘She grateful for it?’ asked Waco.
‘Sure. Three months later we fought for nearly half an hour when she found I’d taken a rich feller she aimed to talk into buying her a hat shop. That was some fight, I’ll tell you. The boss of the saloon offered a hundred bucks each to have another when we got over the first. But we’d made it up by then and found us another town.’
The men watched Joan, realising she was only talking to keep herself from breaking down and crying. For the first time they noticed the make-up smeared on Joan’s face. Under other circumstances it would have been amusing, but none of the men felt like laughing. They knew Beegee had been Joan’s friend, despite all they did to each other, and nobody found anything to do with losing a friend funny.
‘But who’d want to kill Beegee?’ Joan asked, rubbing her face with the edge of her cloak. ‘She was always such good fun and didn’t have an enemy in the world. She never rolled a drunk, or raised a man’s hopes and then let him down. Everybody liked her.’
‘How about you?’ Waco asked.
‘I liked her, she was my friend.’
‘I mean did you have any enemies?’
For a long moment Joan looked at the young Texan. Then her mind started to follow the way his led. Quite a number of people had seen Beegee lose the red dress and fancy hat, then heard Joan say she intended to go to the hotel and dress in it. Only Beegee beat her to it and left the hotel wearing the dress and hat. Beegee who was so much like Joan, except for her blonde hair which the hat hid from sight.
‘Do you think those men might’ve been waiting for me?’ she asked.
‘They were waiting for somebody, that’s for sure. And they wouldn’t shoot a woman down without real good reason.’
‘It was light enough for them to know they were cutting down a woman,’ the Kid went on, following Waco’s train of thought and not liking the conclusions emerging from it.
‘But who’d want to kill me?’ Joan groaned. ‘Where is B—the—where is—’
‘Marshal’s had it moved to the undertaker’s,’ Ted answered.
‘Look boys,’ Joan said, turning to the Texans. ‘That letter you gave me said I could draw up to two thousand dollars against the Thackery money if I wanted, didn’t it?’
‘So Lawyer Talbot told us,’ agreed the Kid.
‘I’d like to get it and give Beegee a good burying. I aimed to cut her in on whatever I got and I’d like to know she was buried decent.’
‘You’ll have to wait until the bank opens in the morning,’ the Kid said. ‘You had any bad fuss with anybody recently?’
‘Never. Sure I’ve had a few hair yankings and screaming matches with other girls, but nothing serious,’ Joan replied.
‘Who else is sharing that money with me?’
‘Kin folks mostly, I
‘You’d best explain that to us,’ Ted remarked, sounding puzzled.
‘Sure. It’s been going on between Beegee and me for a few—all right, for at least fifteen years. Whenever we got together in the same saloon we’d try to leave own with each other’s best dress and jewellery. One time I told the boss girl that Beegee had been calling her names, and left town with all Beegee’s clothes, except for an old dress while they were fighting. Another time Beegee got word to some tough mick railroad worker’s wife that he and I were having fun. I wasn’t in shape to stop Beegee taking off with a new feather boa and everything but five dollars and a gingham dress that I owned. We didn’t mean anything by it. I’d slipped Beegee a drink from the little green bottle under the bar one time, got away with everything except what she stood up in, or lay under the table in. It was six months later that Beegee caught up with me—and I was down with fever and flat broke. Beegee worked and kept me, got me well again. Then when she bust her leg, in a stagecoach crash, I left a good job in a Texas saloon to go take care of her and pay her doctor’s fees.’
‘She grateful for it?’ asked Waco.
‘Sure. Three months later we fought for nearly half an hour when she found I’d taken a rich feller she aimed to talk into buying her a hat shop. That was some fight, I’ll tell you. The boss of the saloon offered a hundred bucks each to have another when we got over the first. But we’d made it up by then and found us another town.’
The men watched Joan, realising she was only talking to keep herself from breaking down and crying. For the first time they noticed the make-up smeared on Joan’s face. Under other circumstances it would have been amusing, but none of the men felt like laughing. They knew Beegee had been Joan’s friend, despite all they did to each other, and nobody found anything to do with losing a friend funny.
‘But who’d want to kill Beegee?’ Joan asked, rubbing her face with the edge of her cloak. ‘She was always such good fun and didn’t have an enemy in the world. She never rolled a drunk, or raised a man’s hopes and then let him down. Everybody liked her.’
‘How about you?’ Waco asked.
‘I liked her, she was my friend.’
‘I mean did you have any enemies?’
For a long moment Joan looked at the young Texan. Then her mind started to follow the way his led. Quite a number of people had seen Beegee lose the red dress and fancy hat, then heard Joan say she intended to go to the hotel and dress in it. Only Beegee beat her to it and left the hotel wearing the dress and hat. Beegee who was so much like Joan, except for her blonde hair which the hat hid from sight.
‘Do you think those men might’ve been waiting for me?’ she asked.
‘They were waiting for somebody, that’s for sure. And they wouldn’t shoot a woman down without real good reason.’
‘It was light enough for them to know they were cutting down a woman,’ the Kid went on, following Waco’s train of thought and not liking the conclusions emerging from it.
‘But who’d want to kill me?’ Joan groaned. ‘Where is B—the—where is—’
‘Marshal’s had it moved to the undertaker’s,’ Ted answered.
‘Look boys,’ Joan said, turning to the Texans. ‘That letter you gave me said I could draw up to two thousand dollars against the Thackery money if I wanted, didn’t it?’
‘So Lawyer Talbot told us,’ agreed the Kid.
‘I’d like to get it and give Beegee a good burying. I aimed to cut her in on whatever I got and I’d like to know she was buried decent.’
‘You’ll have to wait until the bank opens in the morning,’ the Kid said. ‘You had any bad fuss with anybody recently?’
‘Never. Sure I’ve had a few hair yankings and screaming matches with other girls, but nothing serious,’ Joan replied.
‘Who else is sharing that money with me?’
‘Kin folks mostly, I
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