Confrontation

Joe settled tiredly in the circular tub in the middle of the room. A hotel employee, Henry, carrying a pail of hot water in each hand, knocked on the door and entered.

"More water, Mister," Henry announced placing the pails on the floor.

"I don't think I'm ever getting out of this tub," Joe said, easing forward to allow Henry to pour the water.

"Enjoy while it's hot," Henry quipped. "Got one more trip."

Gertie, the saloon girl, peered down the hallway. As Henry left the room with his empty pails, she backed off out of sight.

When Henry returned with pails of fresh hot water, Gertie stepped up. "I'll take it from here, hon," she said relieving Henry of one of the pails. "He sent for me."

"Good enough," Henry said putting the other one down. "Call me if you need any help."

"Will do," Gertie said and waited until Henry was out of sight.

Ever so silently, Gertie turned the doorknob and peaked in. Joe's back was toward her. His saddlebags and jacket were thrown carelessly on the bed. His clothes were thrown on a chair by a desk, out of his reach. She stealthily made her way toward the bed. The floor creaked.

"That you, Henry?" Joe said looking back. "… Ma-- Ma'am?"

Caught, she immediately assumed an air of cool. "This 105?"

"Yes," Joe stared at her.

"Then I'm in the right place!" she made her way in the room. She studied him. "Why you're nothing but a pup."

"Who are you?"

"Sent over as a present. To give you a proper Colby welcome." She came closer.

"Ma'am, now you're going to have to leave," Joe said grabbing his hat on the floor and putting it in front of him in the middle of the tub.

"What's the matter, Lambchops. Hiding something I never seen before?" She circled the tub. "Not too experienced in these matters, are you?"

"I—I'm experienced enough," Joe stuttered as he pivoted in the tub to follow her. He looked at his clothes on the chair. Too far away. She noticed him look.

"You're not going anywhere, are you now?" Gertie reached in the tub and splashed water in Joe's face.

"Uh!" As Joe rubbed his eyes, she made for the bed and gathered his things. "I need a towel! This stuff burns," he yelled.

"Sure thing, Babykins." She absentmindedly threw the towel at Joe's head. As soon as she did, she realized it was a mistake. She made a dash for the door. She was halfway out the door when her arm was jerked back.

"I believe those are mine, ma'am," Joe said with a firm grip on her, towel in front of him, dripping wet.

"Just having some fun," she said faking indignation. "Let go, you big clod, you're hurting me!"

Joe released her. "Suppose you tell—"

She ran off.

In the Silver Star Saloon, Joe walked up to Gibbons. Seeing his torso, Gibbons eyes rose to meet Joe's face. "Hey, partner. Care to join us?"

"No, I'm heading out."

"What'dya mean, you just got here!"

"I had a visitor."

"Yeah, I heard. The welcoming committee."

"What do you know about it?"

"They do it to everyone. Sort of a rites of passage to new people here. She was just having fun with you, that's all."

"She was out to rob me."

"She was not! Don't be such a spoiled sport. Can't you take a joke?"

Joe looked up. "That's her!"

Gertie passed through a door to another room in the bar. Joe ran to the door, but when he opened it, she was long gone. He looked back and forth, and then retreated back to the bar.

Keeping his eyes glued on his card, Gibbons hadn't budged.

"You know who she is?" Joe asked, returning.

"They all look alike to me," Gibbons said dismissively.

"Barkeep!" Joe said turning around. "Who was that saloon girl?"

"Who wants to know?" the bartender replied keeping his eyes on the beer mug he was wiping.

He wasn't going to be of any help, Joe decided. He looked doubtfully at Gibbons. They all stick together. "Nice. No one knows nothin'. Well, this place is a little too rich for my blood," he said starting to retreat.

"Hey, where're you going? What about the nightlife?" Gibbons looked up surprised.

"I don't feel safe here."

"Look, you're already here, no point in leaving now. Why don't you just hang around here until tonight? Believe me, you'll change your mind when you see the floor show."

The card players nudged each other and laughed as if it was an inside joke.

"Go on, you're probably just tired," Gibbons cajoled. "Get some zzz's. Come back tonight, and if you still want to go, we'll go."

"There's no reason for you to come with me. Thought you were visiting relatives."

"Hey, I got all the relatives I need here."

"All right. Just be ready," Joe said about to take off.

"Oh, and Joe," Gibbons said not looking up from his cards.

Joe stopped.

Gibbons continued. "Hate to bring this up, but I'm a little short. Would you mind? I'll settle up with you when we get back."

Joe withdrew his wallet and counted out another hundred dollars. Gibbons could see a wad of money tucked away on the inside of his benefactor's jacket.

That night, Joe walked up to the saloon doors of the Silver Star and looked around. The place was noisy and boisterous. The first thing Joe noticed was a cowboy with a saloon girl thrown over his shoulder heading up the stairs and yelling YEE-HA! Joe turned to see saloon girls on the stage doing the can-can, something he had never seen before. Bare legs flying up in unison, the girls joyously whooped it up as men crowded to the front. The piano player ducked just in time as a bottle came hurling his way, but he never missed a beat as he frantically pounded the keyboard.

A midget of a man walked from table to table grabbing shot glasses from unsuspecting drinkers, and if the drinker still wasn't looking after he gulped it down, he'd put the glass back. One man caught the midget red-handed and threw him into another table, toppling it over, and causing the occupants to rise and pull up their sleeves. Several men watched in another corner, elbowing each other and laughing, occasionally passing money between them from on-going bets.

A man grabbed a saloon girl from the table of another man and started roughly dancing with her. The other guy pulled him away and socked him. Surrounding tables pushed or kicked the fighting men away every time one of them fell into a table. Joe looked around the bar as an occasional bottle or chair hurled through the air. So this is what Hoss and Adam looked forward to when they came to Colby. Well, he might have been interested in the raucous environment earlier. Now he was spooked and just wanted to get out.

As if he was fused to his seat Gibbons hadn't moved from the table, playing cards with the same four card players. From the paucity of coins, he was apparently on the losing end. Joe got himself a beer and walked over.

"Pack it up, we gotta get movin'," Joe said curtly.

Gibbons looked up. "Hey, Joe, there you are. Can you spot me a hundred? Just 'til we get back to Virginia City?"

Joe tried to control his anger and said steadily, "No time. I'm leaving now."

"I can't stop in the middle of a hand! Come on, I can't make this ante."

"You don't need money to fold."

"But I'm in the hole with these guys."

"That's their loss."

"What're ya, making me out to be a liar? I told 'em you were good for it. Come on, it's chicken scratch compared to what you got on you."

Joe grabbed Gibbons roughly by the collar and lifted him from his seat. "Now I'm telling you one more time, it's time to get going," he said evenly. "I'm going to pay this tab and then get on my horse. I expect you to be on yours if you're coming back with me." Joe threw him back in his chair and headed toward the bar.

Gibbons scowled. "Why you—" Suddenly realizing he had to keep in Joe's good graces, he changed his tune. "Hey. Hey, wait up, I'm going with you!"

Joe was out the door when one of the card players with a match between his teeth blocked Gibbons' path. "Just where do you think you're going?"

"I'll get the money, but I gotta get it from him," Gibbons said hurriedly.

The man towered over Gibbons as he grabbed him by the shirt. "I'll save you the trouble. He ain't givin' it to ya. And you're not goin' nowhere. Not without a horse."

"Oh, no. I need my horse."

"You need to pay your debts more, hombre," the cowboy said dryly. "It's mine now."

"Listen. He's got a boatload of cash on him—in the thousands. You saw him hand me a hundred without so much as batting an eye. Wait until we're out of town. It's the easiest cash you'll ever make and it's yours for the stealing."

The cowboy thought a moment. "Ride slow." He released Gibbons and stepped aside to let him pass.

Gibbons hastened through the saloon doors. Little Joe was just pulling out.

"Wait! Cartwright! Hold up! I'm coming with you!"

Camped out before a small fire, Gibbons ladled another helping of beans on his tin plate.

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about it, would you, Clay?" Joe said sarcastically as he poked at the fire with a branch.

"You accusing me of something, Cartwright? I told you, I was in the bar all the time." Gibbons took a flask from his pocket and screwed off the top. He took a gulp. "How would I know who she was?"

"I don't know, maybe one of your "relatives."

"I don't like the way you been talking to me, boy," Gibbons grumbled. "Seems like you've lost all respect for your elders."

"Not all elders, just you," Joe shot back. "Ever since we got on this trip, you've been nothing but trouble. Poker, liquor, women."

"Thought you liked that, Joe," Gibbons said putting a flask to his lips.

"To a point! There comes a time to get down to business. Do you think you can stop that for one minute?" Joe slapped the bottle away from Gibbons. It smashed noisily on a rock.

"You're not my nursemaid," Gibbons said going for his gun. But Joe was faster.

"Drop it," Joe said springing up, a flash of a gun suddenly pointing at Gibbons.

In a placating tone, Gibbons said. "Come on, Joe. Let's forget it."

"Over there," Joe waved his gun. Gibbons relented and tossed the gun to the side. Joe reached down and picked it up.

"Hey, this is where we part company. Give me back my gun." Gibbons demanded.

"I'm not going to be looking over my shoulder wondering what you're up to. You'll get this back when we reach Virginia City." Joe tucked the gun in his belt. "Now get some sleep, we've got an early start tomorrow."

"Sure, Joe," Gibbons said ominously. "We'll do this your way. Boss."

Joe didn't know what to do with Gibbons. He didn't trust him, but couldn't very well tie him up. All Gibbons had to do was attack him in his sleep and grab a gun. Joe emptied the bullets from both guns. Given the choice, he would rather rely on his fists than a gun.

In the silence of the night Joe woke up to the sound of a branch crackle. He caught Gibbons rummaging through his bedroll and locating a knife. Springing to his feet Joe flew into Gibbons in a surprise attack. Under the light of a full moon, a fistfight ensued as they wrestled in the dirt over the knife. In no time, Joe overpowered Gibbons and whacked the man's fist to the ground until he released the knife. Then he gave Gibbons a good sock, landing him in a heap. As Joe went to pick up the knife, Gibbons kicked him in the back.

"Oaf," Joe grunted doubled on the ground.

Gibbons kicked him again for good measure. He was going to kick him again, when Joe grabbed his foot and pulled his leg out from under him. Gibbons threw dirt in Joe's eyes. As Joe rubbed his eyes, Gibbons dove for Joe's bedroll and grabbed a gun. He pointed it at his adversary and pulled the trigger. To Gibbon's surprise the gun clicked empty. Joe rushed Gibbons, but Gibbons managed to sidestep and whacked Joe on the head with the gun. Joe crumpled to the ground. Gibbons busied himself grabbing the saddlebags and food. One of Gibbon's last acts was to untie Joe's horse, Cochise, and slap his haunches, causing the horse to gallop off. Gibbons got on his horse and took off.

It was morning. Joe woke up to a throbbing headache. He rose to a kneel position and looked around, squinting and rubbing his head. Suddenly he felt his jacket pockets. It was gone. He groaned.

Joe surveyed the camp. His horse was gone, too. No food, no water, no horse. He was stranded. He sat on a nearby rock and put his head between his hands. "I'm such a fool."