“I supply drinks,” the man said, “and you can probably find a woman in here. We don’t deal in men.”
“Look, friend—” Decker said, putting his hand on the bartender’s arm. The bartender quickly closed his other hand around Decker’s wrist and squeezed. Decker found out that the man still had plenty of muscle.
“You wanna ask me a question, you go ahead and ask, friend, but that don’t entitle you to touch me.” With that he took Decker’s hand off his arm and then released him. “And it don’t necessarily entitle you to an answer.”
“I’m looking for a man named Calder,” Decker said. Holding his hand below the bar level so the barkeep couldn’t see, he began to flex it, trying to bring it back to life.
“So?”
“You heard of him?”
“What if I have?”
“I’d like to see him.”
“And what if I haven’t?”
“I’d still like to see him.”
“What for?”
“That’s between him and me.”
“If I did know him, where would he be able to find you?”
“Right here, after about an hour.”
“Where you gonna be for that hour?”
“Getting some dinner. Know a good place?”
“There’s a café down the street. It ain’t the best food in the country, but it’ll do.”
“Thanks. I’ll be back here in an hour.”
The bartender shrugged, as if he didn’t care one way or the other.
Before going to the café Decker stopped in at the sheriff’s office.
The man seated behind the desk looked up.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“My name’s Decker,” the bounty hunter said, moving toward the desk. “Just wanted to check in with you. I just arrived in town.”
The lawman stood, showing himself to be a tall man of medium build, not thin, not heavy.
“Why would you be checking in with me?”
“Isn’t that what a stranger does when he comes to town?”
The man laughed, showing yellowed teeth.
“Not in my experience.”
“Well, I’m a bounty hunter on the trail of a man.”
The lawman frowned and said, “That’s different. I’m obliged that you came here and introduced yourself.” He stuck out his hand. “My name’s Calder, Sheriff Sam Calder.”
Decker paused only slightly before taking the man’s hand and shaking it.
Finding Calder had been easier than he’d thought.
Chapter Six
Over dinner, Decker considered his options.
He had left the sheriff’s office without approaching the man about the Baron. For one thing, he didn’t know if the lawman was the right Calder. For another, he’d already made contact at the saloon and was probably better off going through the proper channels. If the sheriff was the right Calder, let him approach Decker.
At the café Decker ordered a steak with potatoes and onions, some biscuits, and a pot of coffee. The bartender had been right. The food wasn’t the best, but it was edible and better than the beef jerky and beans he’d been eating on the trail. As for the coffee, Decker rarely found better coffee than he prepared for himself over a fire.
After dinner he went back to the saloon and ordered a beer from the bartender. From the big man’s demeanor, no one would have known that Decker had already been in the saloon once. Decker did not speak up. If that was the way the man wanted to play it, that was fine with him.
The saloon was fairly full now. Two private poker games were going on at opposite ends of the room and a couple of saloon girls were working the room, both looking more suited to their occupation than Viola had back in El Segundo. These women were older and knew how to work a crowd of men, not playing favorites but making each of the men feel special.
Decker took his beer over to one of the poker games to watch. Ten minutes later, when a chair opened up, he slid into it.
“You gents mind some new blood?”
“Not as long as you got some new money to go with it,” one of them said, laughing at his own joke. The other three men at the table did not last. The joking man was apparently the big winner. He had a very red face, which Decker at first suspected came from laughing. He soon discovered that the man’s face was naturally that color.
The deal fell to Decker and he dealt out a hand of five-card stud. He’d dealt himself a small straight, but the red-faced man was betting two pair like they were invincible. The other three men dropped out of the hand, and Decker decided to let the big winner have it. He didn’t like it when a new man sat in on a game, drew the deal and immediately made a winning hand. Anybody losing would look at that suspiciously.
Two rounds later he drew a third king to a pair in a hand of draw poker and beat the red-faced man’s three threes without tipping his hand.
“Looks like we’ve got us a player,” the red-faced man said.
“Somebody ought to start beating you,” one of the other players mumbled.
Fortune eventually turned for one of the other men, who started winning big. Decker, too, won a few hands and was ahead. Red Face started to lose and no longer had cause to laugh.
In fact, he was decidedly unhappy.
“Looks like your luck changed as soon as the stranger sat down,” he said to the man who’d started winning.
“You’re as much a stranger to me as he is,” the man stated.
The other man obviously wasn’t too sure about that, but as long as he kept his feelings to himself, Decker knew there’d be no trouble.
Over the next hour Decker won a little, the previous winner lost a lot, and the new winner was winning the most. The other players were holding their own.
This did not sit well with the red-faced man, who finally decided to speak out.
“I don’t like the way this game is going,” he said sullenly.
“You think we do?” one of the other losers said.
“I wonder why you started winning as soon as this man sat down?” Red Face said, indicating Decker.
“Beats me, but I’m sure glad he came along. Changed my luck for sure.”
The man who spoke was watching Decker. Although he was winning, it was clear that Red Face was intimating that Decker was doing the cheating.
Decker looked at Red Face and said, “If you’re not willing to lose your money, friend, I suggest you move on. Losing is part of this game.”
“A big part,” one of the other losers mumbled.
“I don’t mind losing,” Red Face said. “My luck just changed a little too quick to suit me, is all.”
“Talk like that is not going to make your luck any better,” Decker stated. “Just what is it you’re accusing me of, friend?”
Red Face looked into Decker’s eyes and suddenly seemed nervous. He realized he’d said too much and now seemed to want to back off.
“I’m not saying nothing.”
“And you’re not playing in this game anymore, either,” Decker told him.
“I got money on the table,” Red Face snapped.
“You’re still a little ahead, friend,” Decker said softly. “Why not quit now and save yourself…further embarrassment?”
Red Face looked at the other men at the table and, finding no support from any of them, picked up his money and stood.
He paused, as if he wanted to say something, but before he could Decker said, “Don’t change your mind.”
Red Face hesitated, then turned abruptly and walked out of the saloon. It was only then that Decker realized that Sheriff Calder had been watching.
“How long have you been here, Sheriff?” he asked as the lawman approached the table.
“Long enough,” Calder said. “Can we talk?”