BLAKE, ( from The McCreedy Bust)
"To tell you the truth, it was a pleasure seeing a man who can shoot that good."
"Oh, he ain't that good," Heyes replied and Kid raised his eyes to give his partner a bemused look of caution.
"What?"Blake asked.
"He was aiming for your belly."
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It took Blake a few minutes to gather his composure, uncertain if the dark haired stranger was being honest about the blond man's speed and accuracy. He swallowed what was left of his wine in two gulps, then pushed back his chair and headed for the Cantina door, intending to visit the repair shop next door to see if his holster was ready.
Blake stopped just before pushing the single swinging door and peered over the top when he saw Mr. McCreedy standing in front of the bank talking to Mr. Peterson, the bank president. Ordinarily this would not have interested Blake, but when Big Mac called to the two strangers to join him for a brief discussion, and the two strangers then stepped away for their own quick pow-wow, Blake felt a twinge of both jealousy and fear that Mr. McCreedy did not think him capable of even assisting in such a dangerous operation.
Remaining out of sight, Blake continued to watch the deal being struck. He saw Mr. Peterson retreat into the bank just before the two strangers rejoined McCreedy on the street. He saw Big Mac balk at something the dark haired man said. He saw the blond man's face turn cold and intimidating. He saw an agreement reached with a handshake.
Blake turned his back to the street and retreated into the Cantina. He walked up to the bar and ordered a tequila, the strongest drink served, and he downed it in one hard gulp and gasped as he set the glass down on the counter. Unnerved by what he had witnessed, Blake found himself actually hoping the sheriff would find these two strangers to be outlaws or murderers, something that would put them behind bars and show Mr. McCreedy what unsavory characters they most surely were.
By the time Blake left the Cantina, McCreedy's carriage was gone and there was no sign of the two strangers. He stopped next door and picked up his holster and even commented on the fine stitchery. Then he walked outside, climbed on his horse, and returned to his duties on the McCreedy ranch.
Three days later Blake knocked on Big Mac's front door to tell him about some fence damage in the north pasture.
"Blake, come in. Come in," McCreedy said quite eagerly. "I've got something to show you."
Blake always felt out of place and ill at ease inside the McCreedy house, Big Mac spared no expense with furnishings and decorations and Blake was always on constant guard so as not to knock over a statue or a lamp, or to scuff the floor with his boots.
"Come on into the Study, and close the door behind you," McCreedy told him as he quickened his own pace and came to a stop in front of a large armoire.
Blake shut the door and quickly followed Big Mac, but stopped a few feet away. Big Mac opened the door and Blake's jaw dropped when he saw the Bust of Ceasar on the center shelf.
"Well I'll be damned, you got it back Mr. McCreedy," Blake exclaimed.
"Them two fellas, Smith and Jones got it back," McCreedy said with great pride.
"They didn't get kilt or hurt?"
"Nope, not a scratch."
"How many men they take with em?"
"Not a one. They managed it all by themselves. Can you believe it. Professional thieves couldn't have done a better job!"
"Smith and Jones, uh? Don't that seem a little funny to you, their names being Smith and Jones?" Blake asked.
"Now Blake, I ain't gonna go looking a gift horse in the mouth, and I'd advise you not to either," Big Mac replied and Blake noted the subtle threat in his words.
"No sir, Mr. McCreedy. I won't. I s'pect they've left town by now? I wouldn't think they would likely wanna stay around with Armendariz's men likely coming for em."
"Armendariz wouldn't be that brazen or foolish," McCreedy replied, but suddenly realized that was a very real possibility. "Blake, I don't want you telling nobody that I've got that bust back. You understand?"
"Oh, yes sir, Mr. McCreedy. I won't breathe a word of it being here."
"Good. Good. Now what was it you came to see me about?"
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In the days following the first Saturday night poker game since the return of the bust, word did begin to circulate about the bust being in McCreedy's possession once again. Other details also began to emerge, such as the fact that McCreedy had paid the two strangers not ten, but twenty thousand dollars for their work. This angered Blake, but when the town gossip also revealed that the dark haired stranger had lost all of the twenty thousand at McCreedy's poker game, Blake felt not only consoled, but somehow superior, knowing he would never have been so foolish as to waste that kind of money gambling.
A week later, when the two strangers had remained in town and had somehow managed to secure an invitation to a second high stakes game, Blake again began to wonder just who these two strangers really were and just how they came to have the money to participate in a second of Big Mac's high stakes poker games. His confusion about them was compounded by the fact that after the poker game, they lavishly spent some of their winnings in the saloon, buying round after round of drinks for everyone in the house.
But his resentment was soon placated when the two showed up at the saloon two days later visibly bruised and beaten, and Blake took comfort in surmising that Armendariz had obviously sought, and achieved his revenge.
Blake was in town getting supplies to mend the fence in the north pasture the day after the third big poker game, and he watched with great relief as the two strangers boarded the stagecoach. He kept his distance so Big Mac would not see him bearing witness to the sight of his boss begging the two strangers to stay, and shouting out absurd amounts of money he would be willing to pay them to retrieve the bust once again. Blake had not been privy to the fact that the bust had been stolen right out of Big Mac's house, and with a room full of Red Rock's wealthiest citizens to witness Big Mac's disgrace. But he was privy to it all now and he literally beamed with satisfaction.
After the stage had left, Blake assumed his best poker face and started down the street to offer Big Mac his deepest condolences, but he stopped and ducked inside a nearby alley when he saw the Sheriff approaching his boss. Blake listened intently to the conversation and was convinced the Sheriff was right when he told Big Mac he thought the two strangers were Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry.
"I knew it," Blake whispered to himself and immediately decided to go after the stage and place the two outlaws under arrest and claim the twenty thousand dollar reward. I can buy my own ranch and don't have to take no more grief from McCreedy.
"No, you're wrong, Sheriff," Blake heard McCreedy say.
"I'm right."
"No, you're wrong. I wasn't gonna tell no one, but that blond fella, he's my nephew."
"You're nephew?"
"Yeah, a fine fella, the other one is too."
Blake closed his eyes and dropped his head with an overwhelming sense of disappointment. Twenty thousand dollars had just slipped through his fingers like sand slipping through an hour glass.
Suddenly things started to fall into place to Blake. While the initial encounter didn't quite add up, all the free flowing money began to make perfect sense. Of course Big Mac would pay his nephew an exorbitant sum of money to retrieve the bust, and would likely continue doling out money so he and the dark haired one could continue to enjoy the high stakes poker games while they were in town.
Blake waited until Big Mac and the Sheriff began walking toward the Sheriff's office, then he crossed the street and went directly to the Cantina.
It was time for some more tequila.