Free Bad Medicine by Paul Bagdon Page A

owner didn’t have no use for him, not with all that Pinkerton lead in him.”
    â€œMmmm. What was that feller’s name—you recall?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œMe neither. Decent fella, though.”
    Will took a sack of Bull Durham from his vest pocket, offered it to Austin, who refused, and rolled himself a smoke.
    â€œYa know, I never knew why you come back when the Pinkertons was gonna shoot my ass off,” Austin said. “Thing is, Will, I never got to tell you thanks or nothin’.”
    â€œNo need,” Will said. “I guess I woulda done it for any outlaw.”
    â€œWell, here’s the thing: I owe you, Will, an’ I wanna pay you off.”
    â€œI got all the money I need, Austin. There’s—”
    â€œThat ain’t what I’m talkin’ ’bout,” Austin said. “I . . . uhhh . . .”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI worked for Hiram for a bunch of months when the law was hot after me while you was in Folsom, Will. He was a good man. Me an’ him, we usta throw horsehoes an’ so forth. He was my boss, but he was my friend.
    â€œAn’ when his ol’ . . . when Sarah wasn’t about, I used to ride the girls on my horse—at a gallop, Will. They loved it. They’d laugh an’ so forth an’ have one he . . . heck of a good time.”
    Will nodded and began to roll another cigarette.“I wonder, can we talk about somethin’ else—?” Will began.
    â€œNo. No, goddammit, Will Lewis. That devil One Dog killed folks I . . . I loved. I’m goin’ to put a lot of lead into them sonsabitches—but One Dog, he’s all yours, Will. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. That’s the way it will be.”
    Will sucked down a beer, thinking. “You ride with me, you’ll more’n likely die,” he said, “an’ probably die hard.”
    Austin grinned. “So will a pile of them murderin’ scum.”
    Will considered for a long moment. “This ain’t a pleaure ride, Austin—no robbin’, no stealin’, no whor-in’. It’ll be hard ridin’ an’ lots of blood.”
    For the first time in the saloon, the grin disappeared from Austin’s face. His eyes caught and held Will’s. “Understood,” he said. Then, he repeated, “Understood.”
    Will shook his head. “Dammit, Austin, you don’t know what you’re gettin’ into here. One Dog an’ his crew are—”
    The grin came back to Austin’s face as he interrupted Will. “What those loons are is not as tough as we are. Right? All we gotta do is kill the whole goddamn bunch an’ then we’ll be all set. Right?”
    Will shook his head again. “Damn,” he said.
    â€œLooky here, Will,” Austin said. “You ever seen a man as good with a gun as me?”
    â€œYeah. Me. An’ I seen this gunnie standin’ on one leg waitin’ to see how many holes the Pinkertons could put into him.”
    â€œWell, hell. They up an’ shot my horse an’ he fell on me. Other’n that, I was good.”
    â€œGood with a busted-up foot an’ no ammo an’ standin’ there like a cigar-store Injun.”
    Austin’s grin disappeared again. He leaned across the table until his face was but a few inches from Will’s. “I’ll say this: I’m ridin’ with you no matter how you flap your mouth. See, all you do is think on your own self. Hiram, he was my friend. I rode his girls around, an’ I paid a whole ton of respect to Sarah. I whacked fence poles for Hiram, an’ I hefted bales. Like I said before, he was my friend. An’ Sarah an’ the girls . . .”
    â€œYou got supplies?” Will asked quietly.
    â€œI will have, come tomorrow morning,” Austin said. “A goddamn prairie dog could bust in that mercantile there an’ clean ’em