This Gun for Hire (Maybe)
Scott acts as agent for Johnny's services.
Note: To the best of my knowledge and belief, this story is fair use of copyrighted material, as there is no commercial use and no loss of potential market or value of the original material will occur. Names of characters original to the story come from my imagination and are not based on other persons or other fictional characters.
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Mr. Herbet Himson, proprietor of the local mercantile and general store, was outraged. He relied on people such as Luther to transport goods shipped by train, since the town had no rail service itself. Unfortunately, on this last trip, Luther arrived with broken boxes with equally broken contents, dented cans, and torn store-bought clothing. Herbert refused to pay Luther the agreed upon amount.
Luther objected indignantly. It was surely the fault of the railroad or other wagons transporting the goods until Luther picked them up. However, he would accept a reduced fee from his usual rate and charge the basic cost.
Herbert was not at all satisfied. He was not only short from the price of the goods, but he missed out on the profit he would have earned if he could have sold the merchandise.
Luther said that was not his problem, and Herbert overcharged the townspeople anyway.
Herbert retorted that it certainly was Luther's problem, and he had just been told how to fix it.
Luther told him to take it or leave it, and after some passing women were out of earshot, that Herbert knew where he could stick it instead of leaving it.
The shouting ended when Luther unceremoniously dumped the contents in front of Herbert's store and drove off.
Herbert kicked and shoved the contents into the alley behind his store and vented his frustration to Abner, the town's blacksmith.
Abner waved his hammer like a judge dispensing justice. "Ya know what you should do, Herbert? Luther ain't listenin' to you. You should hire someone to make Luther see reason."
Herbert raised his brows in confusion, making rows of deep furrows on his forehead. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, you could get a gunfighter to deal with Luther. I seen some of them work. The good ones can scare the coins right outta a man's pocket without drawing a gun. That's who you need."
Herbert pondered this. It certainly made sense, except that he had no idea of how to hire any gunfighter, much less a good one.
"Where would I find a gunfighter? I mean a good one like you said."
Abner straightened up in self-importance. "Well, it just so happens that I seen one of the best ride into town this very day. He's over at the saloon."
"Who is he?"
"None other-"Abner paused for dramatic effect- "than Johnny Madrid."
Johnny Madrid! Herbert had certainly heard of him. Such a person would surely set Luther straight, and get Herbert his money.
"How will I know which one is Madrid?"
"Oh, can't miss him. Young feller, dark hair, flashy red shirt. He's the man for the job."
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Herbert identified Madrid right away. That fancy-trimmed shirt that no cowboy would wear set him apart. He was sitting with another man who was notably better dressed. Had someone else already hired Madrid? He hoped not, but there was only one way to find out. Herbert straightened up as tall as he could and puffed out his chest, and strode with more confidence than he actually felt.
"Mr. Madrid, I gather? I am interested in having you do a job for me."
Damn, thought Johnny. It seemed like Madrid followed him everywhere. Even a respectable-looking shopkeeper like that man seemed to know about Madrid's reputation. Johnny was about to open his mouth and declare the name was Lancer now, when he felt Scott's foot nudge him under the table. He paused, and waited to see what Scott was planning. It had to be something important or at least interesting. The wheels in Scott's mind were always spinning.
"I don't believe I know your name, sir. What is this job you are inquiring about?"
Herbert looked doubtfully at Scott. "I wasn't speaking to you. I was about to offer a job to Madrid here."
"Ah, yes." Scott was being smooth as those clean shirts after Teresa ironed them. "Anyone making inquiries about Mr. Madrid's services must speak with me first."
Herbert eyed this well-dressed man skeptically. "Just who are you, and why would I ask you first?"
"I am Mr. Madrid's agent. Someone of his notoriety naturally receives many more requests and offers than he can possibly undertake. Therefore, he needs an agent such as myself to weigh and sort those offers for his consideration."
Oh, this was getting interesting. Johnny assumed an aloof air, like a man who had other people take on jobs until they were worth bringing to his attention. He did not look at Herbert, just off into space.
"So, what is this job you need?"
Herbert launched into the tale of the whole sordid mess, about the spoiled goods and too-low of an offer to compensate him for what would have been lost profits. Scott listened attentively.
"I see. Well, this is certainly an outrage. I am sure that Mr. Madrid would be willing to take the job, as you and I discuss the details." Another nudge to Johnny's foot.
Herbert began to speak, but Scott raised his hand. "A moment, please. I must first lay out the terms of the contract to ensure that you will accept them."
Herbert tilted up his chin. "Well, I have some details too. How much will this cost?"
Scott frowned and purses his lips, like he doing some mental calculations. "For a job such as this, I would say, forty dollars."
Herbert was pleased. He nodded. The matter would be handled and he would still make a profit after paying Madrid.
Now Johnny directed a quick kick to Scott. Forty dollars was actually a low fee for his gun. Scott promptly kicked back, a little harder. Johnny kept his neutral expression, and waited to see how it finished playing out.
"I am not yet finished. That would be forty dollars, plus the usual expenses and conditions."
Herbert frowned. "What do you mean, other expenses and usual conditions? What are those?"
Scott made a grand gesture to the door. "Well, first I see that your streets are very dusty. Mr. Madrid has a reputation to maintain, and a certain image befitting his stature. He will need to have his clothes cleaned, or possibly a new set of clothes, depending on how, well, the mess that might result from his taking care of your problem."
Herbert did his own math. The clothes would cost another five to ten dollars. That would cut into his expected profits, but he would be ahead of where he was. He nodded.
Johnny stayed impassive, and took a sip of beer.
"Mr. Madrid has just remined me to be sure to address other matters, such as accommodations."
Herbert gaped. "But he didn't say anything!"
Scott made a dismissive gesture. "A man such as Mr. Madrid, though force of his charisma and presence, need not rely on mere words."
Herbert looked uncertain, but undaunted. "Well, ok, what about accommodations?"
"Mr. Madrid prefers to be well rested, before and after a job. He will require a private room in the hotel for some several days to study the situation and plan the resolution."
More math, and more money. Herbert nodded slowly.
Scot was not finished. "That would be the accommodation for Mr. Madrid. I will also need a room to confirm that Mr. Madrid's needs are met."
Herbert's jaw tightened. He nodded, but even more slowly.
"Needs, of course are more than an adequate room. Mr. Madrid must be relaxed but alert, before he takes actions, and to recover afterwards. Female attention is needed for this."
Herbert began to turn red. Was he actually being asked to hire one of the saloon girls, a prostitute, as part of the deal to hire Madrid? He hoped Martha wouldn't learn about this. He'd never hear the end of it. He was close to only breaking even on this deal. The nod now came slower than cold molasses.
Johnny took another sip of beer and scratched his nose. Herbert stared, and shot a look at Scott.
"What does that mean?"
Scott raised his brows. "What does what mean?"
"I saw him scratch his nose! What does that mean?"
Scott pursed his mouth and shrugged. "It means his nose itches."
Herbert was now fully red and edging towards purple.
Scott continued. "Accommodation is not of course limited to Mr. Madrid nor myself. There is the matter of Mr. Madrid's horse. He must be properly stabled."
Herbert went from purple back to a lighter shade of red, edging towards pink. This was a reasonable enough request. "I'm sure there is space at the livery."
Scott wagged a finger. "Yes, but what sort of space? Mr. Madrid's horse needs very specific stabling."
Herbert's pink was darkening again. Madrid's horse had special needs? "What sort of stabling?"
"You see, Mr. Madrid's horse can only be stabled in the presence of certain other horses. While a gelding, he is naturally influenced by the overwhelming masculinity and virility of his master. Therefore, no other geldings-and certainly no stallion nor colt-can occupy the same barn. It must have mares only."
The purple of Herbert's face was in full bloom. He would have to pay to have most of the other horses moved and stabled elsewhere, for several days too, if Madrid was here for that long to finish the job.
"Is there anything else?" Herbert demanded.
"Well, yes of course there is the last expense. That is the very reasonable fee for my services as Mr. Madrid's agent, added to the other charges. That is 25% of all of the total costs we have so far discussed."
Herbert exploded. "This won't get me my money back! It will cost more than what I was expecting to get back!"
Scott raised both hands in acknowledgment of the situation. "This will be your decision of course on whether or not to proceed with this transaction."
"I might as well as have accepted Luther's offer!"
"Perhaps you should."
Herbert blustered and grumbled and looked from Scott to Johnny. Scott looked at him serenely and matter-of-factly. Johnny took another sip of beer and didn't look at either one.
"I will! This deal is over." He turned and left the saloon, thinking about how he would save money, if not completely saving his face.
The saloon doors were still swinging after Herbert left when Scott and Johnny burst out laughing.
"Damn, brother, I should have you work on Murdoch about my chores!"
Scott smiled and sipped his own beer. "Why, I would be happy to do that for you, Johnny. For a very reasonable fee, of course."