Read The Town Council Meeting Online
Authors: J. R. Roberts
The Town Council Meeting (3 page)
In fact, Clint noticed that all four men were in their sixties andâexcept for the mayorâwere carrying plenty of extra weight around their middles.
“Can I ask you gents something?” Clint asked.
“You can if we can keep playin' while you ask,” Chambers said. “I'll take three cards, Judge.”
The judge dealt him three.
“Did you all know Ed Kennedy?” Clint asked. “And the other ranchers he was fighting with? I'll take two.”
“Oh hell, yes,” the mayor answered. “We all know each other. Those old bastards have been fighting for years.”
“Friendly rivals,” Clint asked, “or would one of them hire a gunman to kill the other?”
“In a heartbeat,” Chambers said. “Only reason they're not tryin' to kill each other is they're too old to get on a horse anymore. Too old to go out in a blaze of glory. Yeah, they'd hire it done.”
“You sure Big Ed didn't try to hire you?” Lawson asked. “Two cards.”
“I'm sure,” Clint said. “I have never met the man.”
“Sure seems funny,” Chambers said.
“Whaddaya gonna do, Adams?” Lawson asked.
“I'm going to sit here and play poker.”
“Pretty brave,” Mayor Patton said. “I was you, I'd get on my horse and get out of this townâthis county. I'll take one card.”
“I walk out that door somebody's liable to take a shot at me,” Clint said. “Right now I'm safer in here, sitting with you gents. I don't figure anybody's going to want to shoot up the town council.”
All four men laughed and the judge said, “You've never been to one of our meetings.”
“Folks are yellin' at us all the time,” Delbert Chambers said.
“Take a shot at one of us in a minute, if they thought they could get away with it,” Ben Lawson said, chuckling.
“Well,” Clint said, “somebody took a shot at Ed Kennedy and it wasn't me. I'm going to sit right here until I can figure a safe way out.”
“Well, I gotta tell ya,” Chambers said, “I agree with you. You go into a cell without your gun and you're a dead man. I bet twenty.”
“Naw,” Lawson said, “be best to put yourself in the sheriff's care until he can find out who killed Big Ed.”
“And what if everybody just decides that I did it?” Clint asked.
“Well then,” Lawson said, “Delbert here would defend you in the judge's court.”
“And the judge would listen to all the evidence and decide whether or not you should go to trial,” Chambers said.
“I call,” was all the judge said.
Clint looked around the table. He sure hoped all of these men were better at their jobs than they were at poker.
“Sorry,” Clint said, “I pass.”
“In this hand?” Chambers asked.
“On putting myself in the sheriff's care.”
“Can't blame you for that,” Mayor Patton said.
“Don't start that again,” the judge said.
“Start what?” Clint asked. “I raise twenty.”
“Fold,” Lawson said. “Our esteemed mayor doesn't think Yatesman's doin' the job. He's been wantin' to replace the man for a long time.”
“And why haven't you?”
“Can't fire him without a majority vote of the council,” Patton said. “I call.”
“And there isn't one?”
“No,” Chambers said. “Call. I think Yatesman's doin' his job.”
“I call,” the judge said.
“Full house,” Clint said.
“Again?” Chambers complained, throwing his two pair down.
“Maybe we should put Mr. Adams in a cell,” Lawson said.
“Not while he's got my money,” the judge said. He looked at Clint. “Deal.”
FIVE
“Why don't we offer Adams, here, the job?” Lawson asked.
“What job?” Clint asked, shuffling the cards.
“Sheriff,” Lawson said. “You fellas can't tell me you wouldn't rather have the Gunsmith as sheriff instead of Pete Yatesman.”
“Pete Yatesman wouldn't attract gunslingers to town,” Chambers said. “Adams would.”
“And are you proposing he investigates his own involvement in Ed Kennedy's death?” Patton asked.
“Hold on,” Clint said. “I've got something to say about this. I am not involved in Ed Kennedy's death, and I don't want the job as sheriff.”
He dealt out the cards for another hand of draw poker.
“Doesn't matter what you say, son,” the judge commented. “The word is out there. There's folks who are gonna believe you did it.”
“What the hell kind of system of justice is that?” Clint asked.
“That's the only one we got in town,” the judge said. “Come on, Ben, don't make us ask you every time.”
“I open for five . . .”
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It was late afternoon and Clint was getting hungry.
“They serve food in this saloon?” he asked the table.
“Nope,” Chambers said.
“We can send out for somethin', though,” the judge said. “I mean, if you just don't want to leave the saloon.”
“Yeah,” Patton said, “then we can keep playin'.”
“That sounds good,” Clint said.
“Sandwiches okay?” the judge asked.
“Sandwiches are fine.”
“Sammy?” the judge shouted.
The bartender came running.
“Yeah, Judge.”
“Where's Joby?”
“In the back.”
“Send him to the café for some sandwiches.”
“What kind, Judge?”
The judge looked at Clint.
“All kinds,” he said.
“You heard the man.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay,” the judge said, “who deals?”
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Half an hour later a boy about ten came in carrying a wicker basket. He carried it to the poker table.
“Thank you, Joby,” the judge said.
“You got to pay,” Joby said.
“Mr. Adams,” the judge said, “since you're the only one ahead, how about you buy lunch for the table?”
“It'd be my pleasure.”
He gave the boy the money for the food, then tipped him four bits.
“Thanks, mister!”
The kid ran out.
“Great,” Patton said, “now we'll have to do that all the time.”
“You ruined him,” Lawson said.
“Hey,” Clint said, “even a kid's got to make a livin'.”
They left the basket on the floor and passed sandwiches around. Clint ended up with meat loaf. It was better than anything he'd had at the café, except for breakfast.
While they were eating the batwings opened and the sheriff walked in. He came right to the table.
“Hey, Sheriff,” the judge said. “Have a sandwich?”
“Don't mind if I do.” He bent over, pulled out a sandwich. Turkey.
“Sammy?” the judge shouted.
“Yeah, Judge.”
“Five beers.”
“Comin' up.”
“Thanks, Judge,” the sheriff said.
“Don't thank me,” the judge said. “Thank Mr. Adams. He's buyin' lunch.”
The sheriff stopped chewing, then shrugged and continued. The bartender came over with the five beers and set them on the table.
Clint said, “I guess you better start me a tab, Sammy.”
The bartender looked at the judge, who nodded.
“Sure thing,” the barman said and went back to the bar.
“What's on your mind, Sheriff?” the judge asked.
“I, uh, came to talk to Adams.”
“So, talk,” the judge said. “We can play while you talk.”
Yatesman looked around the table.
“Everybody here knows what's goin' on,” the judge said. “Just consider this a town council meeting.”
Yatesman thought about it, bit into his sandwich, and said, “Yeah, okay.”
SIX
“They're gonna come into town later this afternoon,” the sheriff said.
“Who is?” Clint asked.
“The men from the Bar K.”
“How many?”
“All of âem,” Yatesman said. “I ain't gonna be able to stop twenty men.”
“You better,” the judge said.
“What?”
The judge looked up at him.
“Joby!” he shouted.
“Yeah, Judge.”
“Run to my office and get my gavel.”
“Yes, sir.”
The boy ran out.
“Judgeâ” the sheriff said.
“Wait.”
They played a hand while Joby was gone. The judge won it.
“Hey,” he said, raking in the money, “tide's gonna turn.”
Joby came in and gave the judge his gavel.
“Wait, boy.”
He slammed the gavel down on the table.
“Here,” he said to Joby, “put it back.”
“Yes, sir.”
The judge looked up at the sheriff.
“This is now an official meeting of the town council, Sheriff,” he said. “It's your duty to see that we're not disturbed.”
“Against twenty men?” Yatesman asked. “With no deputies?”
The judge looked around the table.
“All right, gents, pony up.”
“Huh?” Chambers asked.
“Ten dollars each should do it.”
“For what?” Lawson asked.
“Come on, come on,” the judge said. He took out a ten and put it on the table. The other men followed, placing a ten on top until there were fourâand then Clint reached over and laid down a fifth.
“Obliged,” the judge said.
He picked up the fifty dollars and handed it to the sheriff.
“Hire yourself some deputies,” he said.
“Temporary one,” Patton added. “Just until this thing is over.”
“Don't if anybody's gonna volunteer, when they hear what's happening.”
“Don't wait for volunteers,” the judge said. “Now go on.”
The sheriff picked up his beer, drank half of it, and then left.
“Nice move, Judge,” Mayor Patton said. “Now whose deal is it?”
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A couple of hours later the sheriff returned. The judge had just lost a hand he was sure was his. He'd had as full house, but he lost when Clint dropped his cards on the table, revealing four threes.
To their credit, as Clint continued to win, these four men never made a comment about cheating. To a man they realized they were being outplayed. They didn't like it, but they respected it.
“Goddamn, man,” the judge said. “We're getting' a lesson today.”
“And payin' for it,” Patton said.
“You fellas want to call it a day?” Clint asked.
“Hell no,” Chambers said. “Deal âem.”
The judge looked up at the sheriff.
“What now?”
“I got my deputies.”
“Good.”
“I got three,” Yatesman said. “You wanna know who they are?”
“No, I don't wanna know who they are,” the judge said. “Just make sure they keep the Bar K boys out of here.”
“Out of the saloon, completely?” Yatesman asked.
“That's what I said. What did you think you were hirin' them for?”
“Well . . . to keep the peace. Keep them from shooting at Adams.”
“And you can do that by keepin' them the hell out of here,” the judge said. “You understand that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.”
“I'll position them in the front and the back of the building.”
“How you deploy them is up to you, Sheriff,” the judge said.
Yatesman looked at Clint, who gave him no sympathy. He was still trying to figure a way out of the situation. He considered sneaking out the back, retrieving Eclipse from the livery, and getting out of town, but by doing that he could end up being a wanted man. The unfairness of the situation kept growing.
“One thing, Sheriff,” Clint said.
“What's that?”
“My horse,” Clint said. “He's in the livery. If anything happens to him, I'm not going to be happy.”
“Your horse?” Yatesman said. “I can't have a man watching your horse.”
“Put the animal somewhere safe,” the judge said.
“Judge,” the sheriff said, “if this man is guilty of murderâ”
“You don't have any evidence of that, yet, do you?” the judge asked, cutting him off.
“No, I don't.”
“Well then, don't talk to me about it until you do. Now get out, you're interrupting our meeting.”
“Come on, Judge, this ain't a real meetingâ”
“Were you here when I banged my gavel?”
“Well, yeah, butâ”
“And do you see a majority of the town council seated at this table?”
“Yeah . . .”
“And ain't we been discussing town business, gents?” the judge asked.
“Oh yeah,” Lawson said, “we been discussing whether or not we should replace our sheriff.”
“What?”
“So far,” the judge said, “I'm against it.”
“Judgeâ”
“But you never know, Pete,” the judge said, gathering up his cards, “you just never know.”
SEVEN
The game continued, with all the players seemingly unconcerned about what was happening outside. In fact, Clint was very interested in just how effective the sheriff and his drafted deputies were going to be in keeping the Bar K boys out of the saloon. If twenty men came in with their guns blazing, he was just one of the people who was going to end up dead.
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