Chapter Four

As predicted, it wasn't long before John Vandergelt the Second came bustling up the stairs of the hotel, Bret Maverick still in tow. He had indeed selected the connecting room for himself, but before going in, he wanted to see Jack first. Hoping Bret could talk some sense into him, Vandergelt insisted on him coming as well.

"Jack?" he boomed, knocking on the door. "Jack, open this door right now!"

Casting a last concerned look at Beau, Jack pulled the connecting door shut and went over to the main door of his and Lydia's room. "Coming, Father." He threw it open. "Come in, both of you!" If he was surprised Bret was still there, he did not show it.

Vandergelt stormed in, Bret trailing behind him. "Son, what was the meaning of that display in town today?!" he demanded. "You put yourself in ridiculously unnecessary danger!"

Bret looked embarrassed. "Are you sure I should stick around? I could wait outside."

"Stay right here!" Vandergelt boomed. "And shut the door!"

Bret flinched, but quickly did as he was told.

"Yes, do stay, Bret," Jack said. "What's all this Mr. Bret lawyer nonsense?"

"I brought him along to help with this mad plan of yours," Vandergelt snapped. "And then what do we find but you strolling around town as though you don't have a care in the world!"

Lydia suddenly appeared. "Oh hello, Father," she smiled. To Bret she frowned. "Hello," she said coolly. Never knowing the full story behind her courtship with Jack, as per Bret's wishes, she still thought Bret had just let Jack enter the duel with Lucius. Not wanting to take any chances on Lydia deciding she wanted him after all, Bret had been just fine with letting her think it.

Nevertheless, he smiled politely and touched the brim of his hat. "Hello, Lydia."

"Hello," Vandergelt said, clearly distracted. "Lydia, why did you let that husband of yours go wandering off in town today?!"

"I didn't let him go, Father," Lydia replied. "Van does what he pleases. You know that."

"That's true," Bret interjected.

"Bah!" Vandergelt opened the door to the connecting room to set his luggage inside. Beau, still laying on the bed, escaped his notice . . . for a moment. The instant Vandergelt had the door shut, the image dawned on him. Baffled, he opened the door again. Seeing the bed empty, he pulled the door shut with a bang. "Now see what your philandering has done! You have me so upset I'm seeing things!"

"Seeing things, Father?" Jack came over to stand beside him. "Like what?"

"Like you on the bed in there, even though you're right here!" Vandergelt screamed.

"You really are upset," Lydia soothed. "Come over here and I'll fix you a drink."

"I don't want a drink; I want an explanation!" Vandergelt retorted. "Jack, this time your recklessness has gone too far!"

"Oh, I don't think so, Father," said Jack. "And if you'll just calm down, I'll give you the explanation you want."

"I don't want some made-up fable; I want the truth!" Vandergelt bawled.

The connecting door opened. Seeing it out of the corner of his eye, Bret half-turned to look, still occupied with the display Mr. Vandergelt Senior was putting on. "Van, if I have to stay here, you're staying too . . ." But he trailed off, suddenly realizing what he had just said and how Jack was still standing near his father, trying to calm him down. He whipped around, staring at the Jack in the doorway with new eyes.

Beau gave a very awkward smile and a wave. "Hello, Cousin Bret."

"Beau?!" Bret exclaimed in utter disbelief.

Vandergelt spun around. "WHO?!"

"My cousin Beau," Bret said, still reeling. "Beau, what the heck's going on here?!"

"Your cousin Beau looks like my son Jack?!" Vandergelt cried before Beau could respond.

"Yeah, he does," Bret said in a very occupied tone of voice. "I didn't even consider that maybe he was involved when we ran into two Vans." He frowned at Beau. "Which one were you?"

"The first one," Beau told him.

"Well, that explains the way you acted like a cornered animal," Bret said.

"I'm sorry, Cousin Bret," Beau sighed. "I was afraid you'd realize who I am and disrupt the entire operation."

"What operation?" Bret retorted. "You and Van wandering around town all day so there'd be two Vans?"

"Yes, actually," said Beau.

"You could have got my son killed!" Vandergelt raged.

"His plan worked very well, Father," Jack quickly interjected. "We confused Snakes' men so much that they didn't get either one of us. And now that you and Bret are here, I assume some real action is being taken regarding the crime syndicate."

"We did just as you suggested in your wire," Vandergelt said. "Mr. Tolliver said he'd contact his boss and let us know what she says."

"Excellent!" Jack exclaimed. "Then perhaps by later tonight it will all be over!"

"And in our favor," Beau hurriedly added.

"What could go wrong at this stage?" Jack shrugged.

"A whole lot," Bret declared. "I'm sure you remember your courtship with Lydia."

Jack winced. "Yes, well, things don't usually go that wrong. And anyway, at least that all got straightened out in the best possible way."

"But only after you were hurt!" Lydia retorted. "That could happen again. And maybe it wouldn't be able to be fixed another time! You could be killed!"

"They don't want to kill me," Jack protested. "We found that out."

"You could be hit by a stray bullet!" Lydia insisted. "They shot at Mr. Maverick last night."

Bret looked to Beau with a start. "Are you hurt?"

"They never even touched me," Beau assured him.

"Uh huh. Yet," Bret finished. "And I want to keep it that way."

"Believe me, dear cousin, so do I," said Beau. "But there's nothing more we can do until we hear back from Snakes, so why don't we settle down and order dinner?"

Bret's eyes lit up. "That sounds like an excellent idea."

xxxx

Snakes was back at work in his home office when the door opened and one of his thugs came in with a piece of paper. "Here's a telegram from Miss Posey, Boss," he announced.

"Good," Snakes said as he took and opened it. He scanned the contents quickly, looking troubled.

Will arrive in Bent Spoon tonight or tomorrow. Stop all attempts to abduct

Mr. Vandergelt's son until further notice.

Miss Posey

He sighed, slumping back. "Miss Posey's coming here," he announced. "She'll want to stay here so she won't have to pay a boarding fee. Fix up a guest-room. And . . ." He paused. "You better fix two of them. She probably won't be alone."

"Right." The thug turned to leave. "Anything else, Boss?"

"Don't try to get Vandergelt's son," Snakes warned. "That's on hold now."

"Okay, Boss." The thug headed out of the room.

Snakes tapped his fingers lightly on the desk. Now he would have to find a way to get to the hotel and tell Beau that things were going pretty much according to plan. Hopefully Mr. Vandergelt Senior and Bret Maverick would be able to face off against Posey without trouble. They just might be in over their heads, especially Bret. And even in as much as Bret wasn't one of Snakes' favorite people, he didn't want to expose him to that vicious end. Especially since he was someone Beau cared about.

xxxx

The group was just finishing with dinner when a knock came at the door. Surprised, and a bit wary, Jack got up and went over to it. "Who is it?" he called.

". . . Someone to see Beau Maverick," was the hesitant and somewhat muffled reply.

Beau got up from the table. "Go ahead and let him in," he encouraged.

Jack nodded and unlocked the door. But as Snakes stepped inside, John Vandergelt the Second sprang from the table in disbelief. "Now what's going on here?! Mr. Tolliver, how do you even know about Beau Maverick being here?!"

"Hey, be quiet," Snakes exclaimed, gesturing with his hands. "Don't tell it to the entire hotel!"

"It's alright, Mr. Vandergelt," Beau soothed. "There was one other thing your son and I were holding back. We had hoped not to reveal it, but it looks like it's become necessary." He glanced to Snakes, who stiffened in fear.

"If anything gets back to my boss, I'm dead," Snakes moaned. "Look, I just came to tell you that she's coming out and she said to put a hold on going after your look-alike. I didn't know there was a convention going on in here."

Bret looked Snakes up and down, glanced to Beau, and looked back to Snakes again. "Why, Snakes, you old devil. You knew all along what was going on here, didn't you?"

Snakes looked away. "No, I didn't. Not until Beau showed up at my house last night."

"Would someone please explain what is going on here?!" Vandergelt screamed. "Mr. Maverick, why are you cavorting with this criminal?!"

"Because he's helped my family and me in the past," Beau said. "When I realized what was going on here, I appealed to him again. He's my friend."

"Friend?!" Vandergelt cried in indignation. "Someone like this doesn't know how to be a friend! He'll stab you in the back the first chance he gets!"

"Begging your pardon, Mr. Vandergelt, but you don't know me," Snakes retorted, his voice suddenly cold and dark. "You don't know what I'd do."

"I know your type!" Vandergelt shot back.

"But did you know that it was Snakes' idea in the first place to have someone say that you don't own the companies in question?" Beau spoke up.

That stunned Vandergelt into silence. For a moment he stood there, his mouth working but no sound emerging.

Bret might have been amused, had he not looked similarly stymied. He, however, recovered much quicker. "Oh, so Snakes is on our side again for this little venture?"

"Yes," Beau said firmly.

"I'm so glad," Lydia smiled.

Vandergelt finally shook himself out of his daze. "Well, so am I, if it will really work," he exclaimed.

"So far it has, Father," said Jack, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"And just what will we do if this Miss Posey can't be convinced when she gets out here?!" Vandergelt demanded. "Now I don't know how good our presentation is, since it hasn't fooled anyone yet!"

Snakes rubbed the back of his neck. "Miss Posey is a hard sell," he admitted. "She didn't get to where she is by falling for every trick that comes along."

"So we're certainly not out of the woods!" Vandergelt frowned.

"No, but there's not much we can do except hope for the best," Bret said. "And maybe practice the presentation a couple of times." His eyes flickered in his nervousness.

"You can practice it on me, if you'd like," Jack offered.

"And me," Beau chimed in. "I'm curious to know what you said."

"Well," Bret said with a grateful shrug, "let's just hope that practice makes perfect."

xxxx

It was the morning stage that brought Lucrece Posey and Little Pinto to Bent Spoon.

Pinto exited first, pushing back his hat as he gazed up at the general store and the other nearby buildings. "Just like hundreds of other towns all over America," he remarked. Then he turned back to the stage, holding out a hand for his boss to take on her way down.

Lucrece accepted. Even though she was a crime boss, she still liked to be treated as a lady. "The difference is that this town holds a potential gold mine for us," she said. "Let's find Snakes' house. He'll put us up."

Pinto grabbed their luggage as it was handed down by the driver. "You figure we'll be here overnight?"

"Who knows. This was supposed to be so simple." Lucrece was clearly annoyed.

"Still seems odd to me," Pinto drawled. "Maybe the old guy's making it up."

"Maybe he is. But he'll regret it if he is." Lucrece walked with purpose, taking in the town as she went. "And Snakes really should have been here to meet the stage. He wouldn't know if we'd be on it."

"He's lazy," Pinto proclaimed. "He's probably still in bed."

Lucrece scowled. "For as long as we've been working this syndicate, no one on the board can seem to get along. I don't like it. It's never going to succeed if there's always so much tension!"

Pinto shrugged. "Okay, so I don't like Snakes. I like Sergei and Cyril just fine. And I don't have anything against Gallito."

"But sometimes you're jealous of Brutus," Lucrece said flatly.

"Well . . ." Pinto stepped closer to her. "It's just that sometimes he seems to take up so much of your time and attention. I like to be number one."

Lucrece didn't look impressed. "I'm sure I don't need to remind you that our arrangement is superficial only. There is no depth to it, at least not on my part."

"I know, I know." Pinto looked ahead. "Hey, there's Snakes now."

Indeed, Snakes was hurrying briskly down the road, holding onto his hat with one hand. When he saw Lucrece and Pinto coming towards him, he looked like he wasn't sure whether to relax or rush. "H-Hey, Miss Posey," he stammered. "Pinto. I'm sorry I'm late."

"You're late because you were tending to business, I hope," Lucrece said.

"Y-Yeah," Snakes said. "Of course."

"And not lounging around that fancy house of yours," Pinto added. "In any case, here. You can carry the bags." He thrust them at Snakes, who awkwardly accepted.

"There's not that much farther to go," he said.

"Good," said Lucrece. "In a town this size, I would hope not.

"Have there been any new developments regarding Mr. Vandergelt?"

"No, none," Snakes told her. "He's just holed up in the hotel with his son, waiting for you to get here."

"Then we won't waste time. After we take our things to your house, I'll freshen up and go right to the hotel." Lucrece's eyes narrowed. "I want to get this over with as soon as possible."

"What if everything checks out in his favor?" Snakes wondered.

"Then, I suppose, we'll have to find someone else whose businesses will work just as well," Lucrece answered.

"You don't have anybody in mind, do you?" Pinto asked, looking Snakes up and down.

"Me? Not really," Snakes retorted. "It's up to Miss Posey to pick who she wants."

"But I'm open to suggestions." Lucrece smiled in an unsettling way.

"That's great, but I don't have any. It took you a long time to decide on Vandergelt, didn't it?" Snakes eyed her uneasily. He never really liked when she smiled. It was never sincere.

"Quite a while. Which means I appreciate this delay even less." She smiled more. "If we can't have Mr. Vandergelt's businesses, you will help us find suitable substitutes, won't you, Snakes?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, sure. Of course, Miss Posey." Snakes gripped the bags tighter, hoping that his heart wasn't really pounding as loudly as it seemed to him. It was always so difficult to know what she was thinking. Did she suspect he was mixed up in this? Would she suddenly turn and slash his cheek with her poison-laced fingernails? Would he die right here in the street?

He tried not to tremble as he walked. Just in case she didn't suspect, he couldn't show any fear, any indication that he knew more than he was letting on. That was easier said than done; he had never been a good liar.

But she just continued to smile. "Thank you, Snakes. I knew I could count on you."

I wish everybody would stop saying that, he thought to himself in dismay.

xxxx

It was hard to say if Lucrece or Pinto was fooled by Bret's presentation, at least during it. They were both completely attentive, examining the documents he showed them and hanging on every word of explanation. Snakes sat nearby, nervously wringing his hands and idly listening to the presentation for the second time, trying to determine whether it was indeed good enough to fool them.

At the conclusion, Lucrece looked from the documents to Bret and then to Vandergelt. "You thought you owned these businesses. Haven't you tried to find out who actually owns them and whether you can purchase them?" she asked.

"Yes, I have," Vandergelt replied. "They're dummy corporations. There's so much blasted red tape and so many false names that we haven't been able to dig through the mess to the truth yet."

"Well, I suppose that's believable." Lucrece set the documents aside. "It puts you in the clear, but leaves me quite inconvenienced."

Vandergelt looked like it was all he could do not to absolutely explode with indignant anger. "Inconvenienced, Madam?" he sputtered. "You try to abduct my son and use him as a bargaining chip to obtain access to some of the businesses I thought I legitimately owned? And when that fails, you complain of inconvenience? You didn't even have the right to do any of what you did!"

Bret looked nervous. "Let's not antagonize them, Mr. Vandergelt. After all, people in their line of work look at things differently than you and I do."

"That's exactly right, Mr. Bret," Lucrece said smoothly. "And for our trouble in coming out here, I believe you owe us something. Let's say . . . ten thousand dollars?"

"Ten thou- . . ." Vandergelt shot to his feet. "I most certainly will not pay any sort of blood money like that! Ten thousand dollars . . . why, that's outrageous!"

Lucrece's eyes flamed with the sparks of danger. Pinto started to unwind his lasso. Seeing that, both Bret and Snakes became all the more anxious.

"Ten thousand's really a reasonable price," Snakes said. "There's paying the men I hired, travel expenses for Miss Posey and Little Pinto, eating expenses . . ."

"That's right!" Bret nodded. "That's exactly right. For all that, she could have asked for a lot more. Now, why don't you just pay the nice lady, Mr. Vandergelt, and we can put this all behind us?"

"Put it behind us?!" Vandergelt shouted. "I could never put such a payment behind me! I have never been bullied by criminals before and I don't intend to start now!"

Lucrece rose from the couch. "Is that your final answer, Mr. Vandergelt?" Her tone was clipped and dangerous and filled with warning.

"It is," Vandergelt insisted. "Now I will thank all three of you to depart from my hotel room at once!"

"Of course." Lucrece gave him a very insincere smile. "Thank you for your time."

Pinto sneered at him as he followed.

Snakes, getting a definite sinking feeling, didn't meet either Vandergelt's or Bret's eyes as he plodded out after them.

Vandergelt snorted, adjusting his coat as he glowered at the closing door. "Imagine, expecting me to pay them after everything they just tried to do!" he fumed. "How dare they!"

"Oh, they dare," Bret gulped. "Mr. Vandergelt, don't you realize that they might take this as an excuse to go after Van again? They could decide to hold him for ten thousand dollars ransom!"

Vandergelt frowned. "I didn't stop to think about that."

"We went through this whole mess to protect Van," Bret said. "Now, what good would it do if we just turn around and let them abduct him now, for another reason?"

". . . I suppose you're right," Vandergelt said in resignation. "But I just can't stand to think of paying them off!"

"Well," Bret said slowly, "you could go ahead and pay them off knowing that there's always lots of hold-ups on stagecoaches."

Vandergelt shot Bret a Look. "You do have a streak of the Devil in you, don't you," he remarked, a smile tugging at his stern lips.

"Oh, I didn't say I'd have anything to do with it," Bret said vaguely. "Just that things like that happen. And then sometimes stolen money has an odd way of getting back to whomever it really belongs to. I'd say money paid out to crooks for crooked reasons is illegal and wouldn't hold up in court. It wouldn't really be theirs. Not to mention they'd probably be too prideful to come crawling back asking for more money. They'd never want to admit that a common robber or two got the better of them."

Vandergelt chuckled. "I see. You are a good legal advisor, Mr. Bret. I believe I'll take you up on it." He stood, heading for the door. "I'll find them and pay them off right now."

"You do that," Bret called after him. To himself he added, "Me, I'll start planning a little highway robbery."