CHAPTER 7 - FRUSTRATION IN WHITE OAKS

It was two days before we reached White Oaks, but it was worth it. At least it looked like it was going to be. It was a nice upmarket little town and as we rode in, people hurried into their houses and closed their doors, peering at us from behind their drapes. I grinned. We must be famous.

Billy led us to a rather smart looking building, which I thought was an hotel. It turned out to be a whorehouse just like any other, with a posh front. It was run by Jane Greathouse, who Billy, Doc and Chavez already knew. Every girl in the place was a sight for sore eyes and I knew it wouldn't matter which one I ended up with; they were all pure gold. Jane handed out glasses of whiskey and I raised mine in the direction of the one blonde. Blondes were my favourite. It was going to be a great night!

Half an hour later, everyone was upstairs. About five minutes after that, when Lilly, my lovely busty blonde was taking off my shirt, I heard a loud, "Whooo!" from the landing and I grinned. Tom wasn't even fifteen. I'd been that quick too, when I was his age. Then again, it had been so long since the last time, I probably wouldn't be far behind him.

Through the wall I could hear Doc spouting poetry, for God's sake. No point getting all poetic with a whore. He seemed to have forgotten the China girl for once and had picked one of the brunettes, although it sounded like he wasn't making use of her. Across the landing the sound of bedsprings creaking and squeals of laughter came through the door. Hell, what was I fooling around for? I unfastened my trousers quickly and pushed the blonde down onto the bed.

"Billy!" Tom hammered on the door across the landing and I hesitated a moment. A door opened and I heard voices, then the door closed again. Then there was a knock on my door.

"You have to get up! Quick, Billy says to get downstairs! The law's outside!" Tom yelled, banging on each door in turn and then starting again with the first one.

"Godamnit!" I spat. I was furious. I'd been looking forward to this all day and now I was left aching and unsatisfied. I was tempted to just ignore Tom's shouts and finish before I went downstairs, but in the end I rolled off the bed, pulled my trousers back up and grabbed my shirt. I burst out of the room and almost collided with Chavez on the landing. He was rumpled, his shirt half unfastened, his hair tangled and I wondered briefly if he was as frustrated as I was. Then I heard Deputy Carlyle outside calling out some names, mine being the last, and I found myself grinning.

"He said Dave Rudabaugh of Las Vey-has!" I cried, running down the stairs with Doc and Chavez following me.

"I'm real happy for ya, Dave," Doc said sarcastically. I shrugged it off. They had heard of me!

A moment later Jane went outside to speak to the Deputy, but was immediately restrained. Deputy Carlyle shouted that he intended coming in to talk to us and if anything happened to him the citizens of White Oaks would string Jane up and burn her. Would Billy agree to those terms? We all peered out carefully to see what was going on.

"Who is this guy?" giggled Billy and cleared his throat before shouting, "Yes, sir, we agree to those terms!" He turned away from the door, sent the girls back upstairs and instructed the rest of us to look respectable. I grinned and sat down at the table. Chavez and Hendry sat by the fire, Doc took a chair by the far wall and Tom hid behind the piano. Billy sat down on a chair the other side of the table.

When Carlyle came in and asked who was the leader of the group, Billy lowered the newspaper he was pretending to read and said, "That would be me."

"Arkansas Dave," I put in.

"You are not, Dave!" exclaimed Billy.

"I am so!"

"You are not!"

"I am so!"

We sounded like a pair of school boys, which was the general idea. Carlyle clearly didn't know what to do with himself. He interrupted after a few seconds and spouted some garbage about doing things 'law way'. Billy got up and taunted him some more. Then Carlyle made a proposal.

"I understand you have an Indian in your group?"

"Yes, sir, Jose Chavez y Chavez, a Mexican Indian, how'd that be?" said Billy.

His first name was Jose? I glanced over at him, sitting by the fire and pretending to read a book while he peered suspiciously at Carlyle and Billy from beneath the brim of his hat.

"Well, that'll be just fine," said Carlyle. "If I can give this Indian to those people out there, they'll be well satisfied."

I was surprised. Was Billy really going to give his friend up to save his own skin? I took a brief look at him and then turned my attention back to Chavez - Jose. He was now eyeing Billy with a scowl and I saw him slowly and carefully place the book on the seat next to him and draw a knife from beneath his blanket. I put my hand on my gun holster, wondering if I would shoot the Deputy first, or Billy. The thought that I would shoot either of them in order to save Chavez's neck was quite alarming and I pulled my hand back and folded my arms instead.

It quickly became apparent that Billy intended doing nothing of the sort and roped me into a charade where we stripped Carlyle of his hat, coat and gun, dressed him up like an Indian with Chavez's hat and blanket on and then shoved him out the door, hollering and whooping like Indians as we did so.

Of course, Carlyle's men shot him full of holes before they realised he wasn't any of us and then quickly made a run for it before they got caught for shooting their own Deputy. We all took off immediately after. I thought about suggesting we hang on for another half hour to at least finish what we started upstairs, but Billy was already charging out of the door with the others in tow and I shut my mouth with a sigh, grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the sideboard and followed.

Outside, we ran into Sheriff Pat Garrett, the damned traitor, and his posse and we scattered to the four winds. I guessed Billy didn't want to be put in a position where he would end up shooting his old friend. I wouldn't have had any qualms about doing it myself, since he'd turned on us, but I had no intention of getting myself caught by his cohorts and I turned my horse away from White Oaks and galloped into the night.