The Bank Robber Read online

  “Why, none,” he said. “Except I seen him in town last night and kind of followed them fellows out.” He indicated Chico and Howland. “And that one you sent back there. That redheaded feller.”

  “Keep going,” I said.

  “Why, I don’t mind telling you all about me,” he said reasonably. “Considering I know all about you.”

  He let the last drop like a rock down a well. It took me off-balance for a minute. Finally, I said: “Okay, who are you? What’s your name?”

  He grinned and stood up. “Billy Blanco.”

  “Billy Blanco?”

  “I’m darned!” Howland said right behind me. “Kid White!”

  “The same!” Bill Blanco said.

  That brought it back to me. Kid White was an old-time desperado who’d done just about every lowdown thing there was to do. It was said that he was a fair hand with a gun, but had much rather get a man from behind. I’d never seen him before, but I’d heard about him off and on. How he’d run up on us was something I couldn’t figure.

  “Simple,” he said. “Let me git me another cup of coffee and I’ll tell you about it.” .

  It seemed that he had been wandering around Uvalde the night before and he’d spotted Tod’s horse. Having worked for B bar B up until a few days back, he’d been a little curious about the horse and its rider, especially in view of the fact that he’d made off with one of their animals himself. He’d waited around until he’d seen Tod and Chico and Howland come out and mount up and then had followed them back to our camp. At daylight he’d slipped up and give us all a good looking over and had recognized me. Seeing us had interested him powerfully because he’d been so down on his luck of late that he’d even had to take a job of ranch work, “just to tide me over, you unnerstan,” and he’d seen us and pretty well figured we was up to something. He said he was wide open.

  “I’m game for anything,” he said.

  I didn’t like him. Didn’t like him at all. “Well, Kid,” I said, “I hate to disappoint you, but we ain’t got a thing working. Like I said, we’re just passing through. On our way up to north Texas.”

  He looked at me narrowly. “But you been laying over here two days.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “We was tired.”

  “Say, Wilson,” Howland said, “let me speak with you a minute.” He was backing away from the fire, crooking his finger for me to follow him. I knew what he wanted. I knew he’d recognized one of his own kind. But I followed him. I might as well let him have his say.

  We got a little piece away from the fire and he began urging me to take Kid White in with us.

  “No,” I said. “I won’t do it.”

  “Well, that’s crazy. He’s a good gun hand.”

  “The money’s split up enough as it is. No more.” Of course that wasn’t the reason. I just didn’t like the looks of the Kid.

  Howland gave me a look. He was unshaved and his eyes was kind of red-rimmed from being up late and drinking the night before. “Well, what will you do with him then? He knows we’re up to something and you can’t just let him ride out of here. Even if he would.” He added the last like it was a kind of threat.

  But he had a point about what to do with the Kid. He knew me, had recognized us all, and had probably figured out what we was doing laying out in the boondocks.

  “I’ll worry about that,” I said.

  “Well, he’s here now.” He looked at me, letting the point he’d made hang.

  “I know that,” I said. “I ain’t gone blind.”

  “Well, what are you gonna do? I think he’d be a help.”

  “Howland, you want to let me run this?” We sat there, facing each other. It was a face down. Finally he broke, not much, but he give in.

  “You supposed to be running it,” he said, a little lamely. He give in, grudgingly. I didn’t like the way he was taking it. Somewhere along the line, since the Kid had rode in, it had become generally understood that we was going ahead and go through with the holdup. I hadn’t remembered agreeing to any such thing, but suddenly it seemed like it had all been decided. I somehow felt it had been decided within myself. I somehow felt that I’d agreed within myself that I’d do it, that I’d do it for that girl. Somehow it had got to that in my mind. It didn’t make a bit of sense. That girl would despise me for what I was about to do, but I somehow had to do it in order to get back to her. I had to get the stake to set up so I could come up to her like I was somebody myself. It began to seem like it was all lies and cheating. Everything seemed that way. I began to feel bad again.

  We walked back over to where the Kid was squatting. Tod had come back and he looked up at me, a little frightened, and said that the brands were the same. “That’s all right,” I said. “I figured it.”

  “I told you,” the Kid said.

  I squatted down by him. “Look here, Kid, we ain’t gonna pull nothing. It’s like I told you, we’re riding for north Texas in a little bit.”

  “I’ll come along,” he said.

  I looked at him carefully. “Well, I didn’t know that you’d been asked.” I could see what he was. He was an old has-been, out of luck, that had lost all his pride and wanted in on just one more good job. He wanted that one last chance. I could see it was going to be a little harder than I’d figured. A man that has lost his pride is hard to deal with. I reached down and slapped a little dust off my breeches, waiting for him to answer.

  He grinned that crooked grin of his. He didn’t know he’d lost his pride. “Well, maybe I’m inviting myself in. What do you say to that?”

  “I say it won’t wash,” I said. “We don’t have a thing planned.”

  He give me that goddam grin again and I wanted to up and hit him. I was already a little mad. I felt angry about the corner the situation seemed to be putting me in. He kept giving me that goddam grin like he knew everything we were planning. The old bastard didn’t know he was through. Looking at him, I could see what I’d missed at first glance, that there were gray hairs among the jet-black strands that were sticking out from under his hat. His unshaven beard gave him away, for a beard will show a man’s age much quicker than his hair. Hell, he wasn’t in his mid-forties, he was in his mid-fifties.

  “You’re after that bank in Uvalde,” he said. He said it flatly, like he’d been reading our mail.

  “Who told you that?” I could feel that icy chill settling over me.

  “A man with one eye could see it.”

  “Well, maybe you’re blind,” I said carefully. “You’ve had coffee, now why don’t you go ahead and cinch up and ride out.” I said the last coldly and deliberately.

  He was still drinking our coffee. He never even put the cup down, just kept sucking at it like a baby after a sugar tit. “I reckon not,” he said.

  Back when me and Tod and Les was kids there’d been an old dog that used to follow us along when we went fishing or swimming. I never knew whose dog it was, but he was some kind of retriever or something. When we went swimming we didn’t mind that old dog along, but when we was fishing we’d try to run him off because he’d jump in the water and swim after the boat and scare the fish. We’d try to run him off by throwing rocks at him, but it wouldn’t work. Somebody had taught that old dog to retrieve whatever was thrown and he’d just watch that rock that was sailing through the air, dodge it, and then chase it like we’d thrown it out for his pleasure. We used to wear our arms out throwing at that old dog until we learned better. Finally, one day, Tod shot him. All the rest of that summer we could see him rotting down there by the lake. Finally the ants and the sun finished him off and all we could see was his white bones gleaming in the sun. I always felt bad about that old dog. He wasn’t a bad dog; he just didn’t understand that he didn’t fit in. I never much liked Tod shooting him. I reckon that old dog had been along on so many duck hunts and what not that he automatically figured he ought to come along any time the boat set out. Tod oughtn’t to have shot him, but he did.

  “You
may reckon not, but I reckon.” I was starting to get angry. I stood there staring down at him, still idly slapping the dust out of my breeches. The old man was starting to give me a bad feeling. The whole job had me a little spooked, what with it being my last and all, and I was beginning to get the feeling he might be bad luck. I don’t generally think that way, but that was what was coming in my head. Besides, I’m damn careful about the men I ride with. Can’t just anybody get in on a job I’m gonna pull.

  He still hadn’t give me an answer when I’d told him I’d reckoned he’d better move along. The way he was just sitting there, staring down at the ground with that crooked grin of his, was starting to give me the willies. First there’d been that business with Tod slipping into town and now this old clod shows up. I was really beginning to feel spooked about the job. I turned around and walked over to where Howland was and motioned him back a few more feet. “Go on into town,” I said, “and see if everything looks all right. If it does you go into the bank and cipher me out a little drawing of just where everything in that bank sits. Can you do that?”

  “Shore,” Howland said. “But what are you gonna do about him?” He gave Kid White a little nod.

  “I’ll tend to him in a minute,” I said. “First, I want to see if there looks to be anything stirring in that town. You look damn sharp, you hear me?”

  Les walked over to me just as Howland made for the corral. He’d been listening all the while to the talk between the Kid and I without saying anything.

  “Will, that old man didn’t just come out here on account of that B bar B horse. He knowed something before he came.”

  “I know it,” I said. “Or at least I figured it. Let’s go talk to him some more.” We walked back over to the Kid and I squatted down in front of him. He’d helped himself to another cup of coffee.

  “Looka here,” I said, “you said you come out here on account of that horse. That ain’t so, is it?”

  He give me that grin again and didn’t say anything.

  “You come out here because you knowed something was up. Now ain’t that so?”

  “It might be,” he admitted.

  “Well, how about telling me what made you think that?” I looked at him and waited. “Now listen,” I said, “if you don’t get that goddam grin off your face and quit sittin’ there lookin’ like a dawg sucking eggs, I’m gonna run you right off.”

  “I heard talk,” he said. “Then I seen that feller.” He half turned and pointed toward Tod with his chin. “I recognized him and knew he rode with you. They’s a dodger out on all of ya’ll, you know, for that little job over in Carrizo.”

  “I’d heard,” I said dryly.

  “Fifteen hundred on you,” he said. “Five hundred on these Richter boys, apiece.”

  “Well, what’d you mean talk? Just general talk? Or did somebody else recognize Tod, that redheaded boy over there?”

  “Oh, the talk I heard was from them two. That one that rode out and that Mex out there.” Chico had walked back to the corral and was tending to the horses. That was probably the reason the Kid hadn’t wanted to talk before in front of Howland and Chico. I was dumbfounded.

  “What were they saying? Were they saying we was gonna pull something in Uvalde?”

  “Not straight out like that,” the Kid said. “They was in the saloon and I was sittin’ pretty near to them and the little Mex kept complaining about why they hadn’t done a job in Mexico, and this other’n, that one that rode out, went to laughing and saying it was because you wanted to be nice down there. Said you had something for some little señorita and didn’t want to upset her. Said she’d made you promise you’d allus come to the States to do your dirt.”

  I looked over at Les. “Did they call me by name?”

  “Called you Mister Young. But then that redheaded one come in and I put two and two together. Wadn’t hard.”

  “I reckon not,” I said slowly. Well, things had come to a hell of a pass. A man would be a fool now to go in and try to rob that bank. I looked back to the Kid. “Reckon anybody else recognized Tod?”

  He shook his head. “They didn’t let on if they did,” he said.

  I stood up. “Well, much obliged. We’ll be eating in a little. Whyn’t you stick around and take a meal with us?”

  “I’d appreciate that,” he said.

  I walked away, then, to the shady side of the canyon and sat down to think. Les came along and sat down with me. He didn’t say a word, but handed me a cigar and got out a match for us. We lit up and I sat there thinking. It was going to be a hell of a job to figure out.

  A little before evening Howland came riding back in. He passed Les and me where we were still sitting, giving us a grin and a little salute, and went on back to the corral and turned his horse in with the others. When he came back to us he sat down and took off his hat and got a little piece of paper out of the sweatband and handed it to me.

  “There it is,” he said. “As pretty a piece of handdrawing as you’ll ever want to see. Got everything all laid out.”

  I just took it, didn’t look at it, looked at him instead. “Yes,” I said, “you’ve got everything laid out. Including us.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “That means you got a big mouth and you done a lot of talking in town last night.” I was mad and didn’t care if he knew it.

  “Now hold on there, Wilson,” he said, his face flushing. “I don’t take that kind of talk from nobody.”

  “Well,” I said, “that’d be your choice, wouldn’t it?” I eyed him steadily.

  “Say, what is this? I just rode in here and all of a sudden you’re jumping me. Mind telling me why?”

  “Well,” I said, “it’s been relayed to me what you had to say in the saloon last night. About how come I didn’t want to pull no job in Mexico. Said I had me a señorita wouldn’t let me. Said I had to come to Texas to do my work.” I was biting off each word and staring at him, hard.

  “Never said no such thing!” he avowed. “And any man says I did is a liar!”

  “Then you better take it up with the Kid.” I stood up and called to Billy Blanco, who was still over by the fire finishing up a plate of beans.

  “What’s up?” he asked, walking toward us with a kind of rolling gait that made me think he was more sailor than horseman.

  “Man says you’re a liar,” I told him. “Says he wasn’t doing no talking in town last night.”

  The grin suddenly vanished from Billy’s face. He kind of scratched his chin for a second and then, almost unnoticeably, stepped back a pace or two. “I’d say any man that said that is more liar than me.”

  “What’s that?” Howland asked sharply. “You calling me a liar?”

  “If that’s how it sounded,” the Kid said. “You can take it for that.” He was standing there so relaxed he looked almost sleepy. But that slumped, hunched-over stance didn’t fool me any. I could see he knew his business. Maybe he was old, but he still knew his business.

  Behind me, Les said: “Don’t let this go too far, Will.”

  “It’s done gone too far,” Howland said, bristling up. He was getting mighty brave all of a sudden.

  I turned at him. “You still deny you said that?”

  “Damn right!” Howland said.

  I looked at him a minute longer. I knew who was doing the lying and it wasn’t the Kid. “I ought to let him kill you,” I said, but then turned to Billy. “Cinch up,” I told him. “It’s all done. Ain’t gonna be no shooting and ain’t gonna be no bank robbery. You might as well ride out.”

  He looked at me. “This man called me a liar.”

  “He knows who done the lying,” I said. “Let it slide and ride out.”

  “No,” he said.

  “Yeah, Billy, go on.”

  “I’m pulling that job with you.”

  “Goddamit! I told you there wasn’t going to be any job.”

  “Listen”—and his voice sounded almost pleading—“I’m down on
my luck. I need a break. Let me come along, I ain’t asking for a regular share.”

  God, he was giving me the willies. The whole goddam job was giving me the willies. I wanted him gone. “They ain’t gonna be no job. We’re breaking up and I’m riding for Mexico. I’ve had it. Now cinch up.”

  “No,” he said.

  Well, we were back to throwing rocks at the old retriever again. He’d made so many hunts he didn’t know when to quit. He’d just watch the rock, dodge it, and chase it, and then come back for more.

  “I’m a damn good gun hand,” he said. “A damn good one.” He was pressing, pressing real hard. I could see the want on his face.

  “Billy, cinch up. This is my last time to tell you.”

  “Let me fight this feller. I can still go. I’ll prove it. I know I’m getting old, but I can still go.”

  “No,” I said.

  “Hell,” Howland said viciously. “Let him. I’ll kill him if he fools with me.”

  “No,” I said.

  Then I didn’t know quite what happened or how. Suddenly the Kid was backing up and suddenly his hand was going down. It was instinct after that. I pulled and shot him before he ever got his piece all the way out of his holster. The bullet took him mid-chest and he kind of gasped and then flipped backward.

  “Goddam!” Les yelled.

  I stood there, stunned at what I’d done. I’d never thought, I’d never considered. I’d never had no idea the old fool was really going to draw. But he had and I’d killed him.

  When we got to him he wasn’t quite dead, but he was going fast. He kept making faces against the pain and trying to say something. He never got the words out. A little bubble of blood come up on his lips and he sighed and then just kind of relaxed.

  “Well, you’ve killed him,” Howland said matter-of-factly.

  “Yeah,” I said. I got up and walked away toward the end of the canyon. I was feeling real bad.

  I sat down there by the far canyon wall a long, long time. Dusk came and dark and the boys gathered around the campfire and went to eating. Every once in a while they’d give a little look off in my direction, but nobody came near me. I could hear the sound of their voices, kind of murmuring and low. I couldn’t make out any words, but then I wasn’t trying. I was just sitting there feeling bad and trying to make out what ought to be done.