Fool's Gold

Chapter 12 – Go Away, Little Boy

After the nights spent in two very different saloons, the 'Horseshoe Bend Casino' was not at all what Bart expected. It was small and intimate in comparison to the previous ones and much quieter. There was still plenty of drinking and gambling, but the games were calmer and the drinking less rowdy. Poker was serious business here and was treated as such. There was only one table with open chairs at first and if they both wanted to play Anderson and Bart would have to play against each other. They accepted the challenge.

The games went back and forth initially, with Anderson ahead, then Bart. Then something in the cards changed and Garrett couldn't draw a decent hand to save his soul. Skilled as the older gambler was he was second best in this town on this night; Bart was on fire. As soon as a place became available at another table Anderson saw his opening and moved; if he had any chance of getting his money back he needed to play against men that did not include Bart Maverick.

Much to their surprise Elliott Stander drifted in about eleven o'clock. He was certainly old enough to play poker but young enough to surprise men with his level of expertise. He was a much more skilled player than his father as Bart soon discovered. Bart still outplayed him but Elliott made it a little tougher; and he also seemed to be holding a grudge. Maybe from the night Bart stopped him from bothering Rose?

They played on for a while before Bart wanted a break. He'd had enough of Elliott's snide remarks and backhanded attempts at intimidation. He wasn't about to run from a 'kid' but the enjoyment had gone out of the game. He excused himself from the next hand and went to the bar for coffee. Elliott Stander made the mistake of following him.

"What's the matter Maverick, can't take the heat?" Elliott taunted.

"Go away, Elliott," Bart answered. He turned his back at the bar and picked up his coffee. Stander wasn't going to let it go.

"Afraid to keep playing me?"

What was his problem? Once again, "Go away, Elliott."

"Think you can just take whatever you want?" Elliott was getting louder and more belligerent.

"I'm not gonna tell you again. Go away." Enough of this game of cat and mouse. He was tired of playing. Why couldn't the boy just back off?

"Rose is my girl and you can't have her." That was loud enough to stop the poker game at the next table.

Bart was fed up. He turned back around to Elliott and got right up into his face and said very quietly, "Listen to me, little boy. I told you to go away. If you've half a brain you'll do it now."

"Nobody calls me little boy and gets away with it!" With that he took a wild swing at Bart, who ducked and threw a punch that didn't miss. Stander dropped like a stone and lay on the floor. A deputy stepped away from the bar and dragged Elliott out of the way.

"If he's still out when I leave I'll drag his butt over to sleep it off. Sorry, Mr. Maverick. The kid can't hold his liquor. This ain't the first time he's pulled somethin' like this." The deputy looked at the prone 'boy' on the floor. "Someday he's gonna get himself in real trouble. Appreciate you takin' it easy on him."

Bart shook his head and then his hand. It hurt! All because of a foolish boy. The deputy assumed Elliott to be drunk but Bart knew he wasn't. He was mad about Rose Garrett and it was time Bart put an end to it. He would do his best to make sure that he and Rose weren't alone together any more, no matter what it took to make that happen. Including cutting his visit with Anderson short, if he had to. Or explaining it to his friend, her father, and taking his perceived punishment for a violation of trust.

He was in no mood to go back to poker now and he did something he rarely ever did – ordered a whiskey at the bar. Rotgut they called it and rotgut it was, but it settled his nerves and anxiety and, in a moment of frustration, he ordered another when the first was gone. He didn't see Anderson watching him with disbelief, and then relief when he walked away without touching the second drink. Bart didn't drink. None of the Mavericks did, and that was a well-known fact. So for Bart to actually take a drink and order a second one only proved how unhappy he was at the turn of events. Anderson was truly concerned about Bart's mental torment. They needed to talk and fast.

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"I'm not drunk, I'm tellin' ya," Elliott protested loudly as the deputy pushed him forward. He was trying desperately to avoid spending a night in jail for no good reason, as he saw it. Was this another of Maverick's attempts to keep him out of Rose Garrett's life? If it was, it wasn't going to work.

"Then why throw the punch? The man was just standin' there." Never try to reason with a drunk or a fool blinded by jealousy and greed.

"He insulted me. That's a good enough reason." Halfway across the street to the jail the deputy and Elliott stopped walking. The kid had a point. He stood there straight and solid, not swaying like a drunken man would. His speech wasn't slurred and his eyes were bright rather than glazed over. Maybe the kid had just been angry.

"Are you done now? All over? Not going to do something you'll regret in the morning?"

Elliott saw his opening and took it. "Yes sir. All I want to do is go home. No more trouble, I swear."

The deputy fell for it, as had so many others in town. The wide-eyed innocent sincerity. Right before the snake bites. "Alright, go on home. Get out of here."

Stander took his leave as quickly as he could. He made his way to the Statford residence, where he found Tommy still awake and trying to determine a way out of the mess their plan had become.

"Only thing I can figure is to get rid of the gambler. Rose is distracted by him but if he's not around she'll come back to me."

"How are we gonna get him out of town?" Tommy was thinking 'remove', not 'remove.'

Elliott fingered the knife in his coat. Would he go that far to restore order in his life and his 'gang'? "In a pine box."

"Are you sure? What if it doesn't work?"

"How could it not work? Dead is dead."

"No, I mean what if Rose . . . . ?"

"She'll come back to me." He was trying hard to convince himself. "She will. She loves me."

Tommy had heard Elliott like this before. Once he made up his mind to something there was no dissuading him. He sighed and gave in to his friend's plan. "Who else?"

"Jackson. Billy Joe. Jonesy." The 'gang' members Elliott wanted included.

"No Wickham?" Wickham Ford was the only member excluded.

''No. Rose and his sister are too close. I don't want Wick involved."

"Alright, when?"

"Now, tonight. He's here, in town. Let's get this over with."

Tommy would have preferred to wait but Elliott was anxious to do this. Statford left Elliott at his house and went to round up the others. Best to do the deed before he lost his nerve.