Further Adventures of James Butler Hickok (9781101601853) by J. R. Roberts Read Free Book Online Page A

breakfast.”
    â€œNo, I mean . . . what are they doing together?” Wells asked.
    â€œI don’t know,” Dawkins said. “Maybe that’s why you still need me, though.”

SEVENTEEN
    S PRINGFIELD, M ISSOURI J ULY 1865
    The bad blood between Dave Tutt and Wild Bill Hickok festered for two more days after Tutt walked away with Hickok’s watch. Tutt had not returned to the Old Southern, but Hickok continued to play poker there. And he continued to win.
    Clint watched life in Springfield go by from his cell window. He was still waiting for the sheriff to either find a witness, or charge him with something. He was pretty sure Sunshine was going to have to let him go soon.
    Not that the food was bad. It all came from the same café, and it was delicious. However, he was being charged for a hotel room he wasn’t using.
    He finished his breakfast and laid the checkerboard cloth napkin back over the tray, stuck it near the front of the cell so the sheriff could retrieve it. He had not seen a deputy in the two days he’d been in the cell.
    * * * 
    Sheriff Sunshine entered the Old Southern and walked to the bar.
    â€œSheriff,” the bartender said.
    â€œBeer,” Sunshine said.
    â€œComin’ up.”
    When the bartender brought the beer, Sunshine said, “Come on, Walt.”
    â€œWhat, Sheriff?”
    â€œYou were watching what happened down in the square, weren’t you?”
    â€œNo, sir,” the bartender said.
    â€œAnd you don’t know anybody else who was?” Sunshine said. “Your customers?”
    â€œNope.”
    â€œWalt, Walt,” Sunshine said, “you’re tellin’ me this whole place didn’t belly up to those windows to watch the action?”
    â€œMaybe they did,” Walt said, “but I ain’t got no names for you.”
    Walt looked over at the poker game, where Hickok was raking in another pot. Even though Hickok’s mood had changed, the bartender was still smarting from the way the man had spoken to him the other day.
    â€œYou might ask Hickok, though.”
    Sunshine turned and looked over at the poker table.
    â€œWhy Hickok?”
    â€œWell, like you said,” the bartender replied, “everybody bellied up to the window and door to watch, but Hickok? He stepped outside. He got the best look of anyone.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you tell me that before now?” Sunshine asked.
    Walt shrugged and said, “I just remembered.”
    Sunshine frowned, looked over at Hickok again.
    â€œHe winnin’?” he asked.
    â€œOh, yeah,” Walt said, “ever since Dave Tutt left the game two days ago.”
    â€œHe hasn’t been back?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œIt’s got somethin’ to do with a watch.”
    Sunshine nodded, rubbed his hand over the lower portion of his face, then picked up his beer and walked over to the poker game.
    * * * 
    Hickok dropped his three kings down on the table and raked in his pot. As he did so, he felt someone stop alongside the table. When he looked up, he saw the sheriff.
    â€œSunshine,” he said.
    â€œBill,” the sheriff said, “you mind if we talk a minute?”
    â€œWhy, sure thing, Sheriff,” Hickok said good-naturedly “These boys can use a break anyway.”
    He stood up and walked to the bar. Sunshine followed.
    â€œBeer, Walt,” Hickok said.
    â€œSure thing, Mr. Hickok.”
    Aw, come on, Walt,” Hickok said. “You can call me Bill, you know?”
    â€œYes, sir. Sheriff?”
    â€œSure,” Sunshine said, “I’ll have another.”
    When they both had beers, Hickok asked, “So what’s this about, Sheriff?”
    â€œThree men were killed in the public square two days ago,” the lawman said.
    â€œThat a fact?” Hickok asked. “I was right in here. I got plenty of witnesses.”
    â€œI know