You Know Who That Is?

It had been a long ride up to meet the train, but Josiah and the boys had finally arrived in the growing railroad town of Tilburg and unloaded Mr. Portis’s 1,427 head for a fair and hefty sum. Almost the instant they’d gotten all the beeves corralled the men had scattered, some to wash away the dust of the trail, others to spend their pay on gifts for the girls back home and maybe a quick poke at one of the town’s many cathouses, leaving the forman to handle all the business arrangements. But Josie and Pat, wise beyond their combined thirty-three years in the ways of the world, had grander plans. They were going to make themselves a fortune.

Following a tip from the cook, who’d made the trip up to Tilburg for Mr. Portis a number of times before, the boys made their way to McGuire’s, a spot in the heart of town that always had a number of games running. They procured a loan against a gold-plated watch that had belonged to Pat’s father before he was killed in the war and intended to multiply their wages for this trip and thus be set for a long time to come. In addition to the watch, Pat was also contributing his sure-fire method for always beating the house at blackjack. All Josie had to do was trust him and be willing to put up enough of his own money to get Pat a seat at the table.

Things went well for the first few hands, as they always seem to at places like McGuire’s, and Pat worked up the confidence to double down on a pair of fours he’d been dealt, wagering all literally all the money they had -- only to end up busting on both of them. The barkeep saw what had happened, and, taking pity on the boys, offered to spot them for all the drinks they could handle that night before they made their sad return to camp. (This, of course, was not a huge investment on the barkeep’s part, as he ventured correctly that the boys wouldn’t have much stomach for liquor, and besides he would make sure their glasses were always half full with water.)

Still Pat and Josie meant to thoroughly drown their sorrows and were starting their fifth round at a table in a secluded corner when a stranger came into the saloon.

He was an unassuming man, neither tall nor short, with a thin mustache and a few days’ scruff around his jaw. While he was still in the doorway his eyes scanned the whole room from under the brim of his faded hat, which he removed and hung on a peg before striding up to the bar. He wore a pair of six-shooters on a belt that hung loose about his hips.

“What’ll it be, Joe?” asked the barkeep, fetching a fresh glass from the counter behind him and giving it a quick wipe with his rag to prove its cleanness.

“Whatever’ll get this darn dust out of my throat! Make it a bourbon, neat,” and the stranger placed his coin on the bar with a snap.

The drink in his left hand and his right resting on the handle of one of his revolvers, the stranger surveyed the bar again. His eyes lit on Josie, who was watching him with interest and who nudged Pat back to attentiveness.

“Hey, you know who that is?”

Pat blinked away the sleep that was fast overtaking him. “Wha--?”

“That fella just walked in. I think that’s Buck Jamison!”

“Who?”

“C’mon, you’ve read the stories. He used to rob things, stagecoaches mostly, back must’ve been six years ago now, only one time he was set up and the law were there to ambush him. Seven lawmen surrounded him and he dropped ‘em, every single one, before any of ‘em could even get a shot off, and he got away scot-free! He’s like a legend!”

“If he killed all’n ‘em...how’s anyone even know it was him?”

Pat was a few years Josie’s senior and thought he knew everything. Josie sighed before continuing.

“The law knew ‘cause they were the ones what set him up!  Who else could’ve done it?”

“I dunno, sounds like a tall tale to me.”

“Well it’s not! He shot all seven and now the law’s too scared to get after him again. That’s what everyone says anyhow...” Josie’s heart skipped a beat because he saw that Buck Jamison was approaching the table. “Shh! Quiet now, he’s comin’ over!”

Buck stopped and looked down at them. “You fellas don’t seem to be too busy. Either of you like to take care of my horse for me? There’s some money in it for you...” and he held up a shiny coin.

Pat’s head lolled on his shoulders but Josie got up like a shot and said “Of course, sir!”

“Atta boy! She’s tied out front, big girl with white socks and a star on her forehead. Can’t miss her. Get her some water and find her a room for the night somewhere. You can keep whatever’s left over from that dollar there,” and he flipped the coin to Josie, who lost it in the lights above the bar and fumbled it before clutching it to his chest. He nodded his thanks and started weaving toward the door. Buck gave him a pat on the shoulder and helped to steer him in the right direction before returning to the bar and tossing back another drink.

Outside, Josie was stunned to find how dark it had gotten and took a moment to get his bearings before turning to the hitching post and untying the big mare with the star on her head. She shied from him at first but after a few reassuring pats on her nose she came along easily. Josie led her to a watering trough and worked the pump a few times to freshen it up for her. He still couldn’t believe he’d met the real Buck Jamison, the one he’d read about in books, one of the most notorious outlaws alive! It was as he was coming down from this reverie that he realized he didn’t have any idea where to find a stable.

He remembered vaguely which way he had come from the stockyards and started leading the horse along that route and eventually he found a stable near the edge of town and installed the horse there. He started back for McGuire’s thirty cents richer.

He found Pat slumped over on the table and tried to shake him awake but Pat wouldn’t stir so he went instead to look for Buck, who was shooting dice at the other end of the room.

“Your horse is taken care of, sir!” Josie said, and without meaning to he offered up the change from his pocket.

“Mighty kind of you, little man,” Buck returned, “but you can keep that, you earned it.”

“Thank you, Buck, sir,” and Josie turned to retrieve Pat and make his way back to camp.

But Pat wasn’t at the table.

Josie turned and looked about the bar for his friend and found him staggering along the back wall towards the dice table. Pat let out a belch audible even across the long room and then shouted “Hey mister! I hear you got a fast draw. How’d you like to try your hand agin me?”

Josie hurried to intervene but it was hopeless; he couldn’t get back across the bar before Pat reached Buck. Halfway there, he saw Pat put his hand on Buck’s shoulder and whisper something before reaching down to grab the butt of one of Buck’s pistols.

“Hey! Take it outside!” shouted the barkeep but Buck was way ahead of him. He gave Pat a quick jab to the bridge of the nose and Pat folded, out cold. Josie reached him seconds later and tried to rouse him but it was no use. He apologized profusely to Buck, who laughed it off and said not to worry and offered to help get Pat back to camp. Josie gratefully accepted.

Buck carried Pat up on his shoulders and Josie led the way back to camp. Josie told Buck all about how the boys had lost their pay (and Pat’s father’s watch) hoping to explain what had led Pat to behave as he had, and also relished the chance to pelt his hero with all manner of questions about his erstwhile career as a villain. Buck owned up to everything that Josie had read in the books and magazines, only making a few corrections where the authors had embellished a little. Josie was just getting ready to ask about the famous shootout, which he had wanted to save for last, when they reached the camp and had to stop their talking for fear of waking the whole party.

Buck dumped Pat as gently as possible into his cot and bade Josie a good night, promising that if the boys stopped in town the next day he would see what he could do about getting the watch back. Josie thanked him earnestly and said he would certainly try his best. He went to bed still in disbelief at the events of the evening.

Buck had taken a shine to the kid, but as he walked back to town he felt sort of sorry that he had let the kid believe the lie.

The next morning Josie woke early and broke his fast on bacon and biscuits and two cups of black coffee. He tried to convince Pat to come with him, but he was embarrassed about his behavior and decided to stay behind and nurse what was likely a broken nose, so an hour after sunup Josie set off back into town alone.

He realized once he was on the main drag that he didn’t actually know where Buck was staying, but he overcame this minor problem by staking out the stable where he had brought the horse. He waited for what was probably a half hour but what felt like much more and was just considering giving up and heading back to camp when Buck appeared. He looked surprised at first but as his memory returned to him he greeted Josie with a hearty wave.

“Mornin’, kid! Guess you’re here about that, what was it, a watch?” Buck suppressed a yawn and tried to rub some lingering grogginess off his face.

“Yessir, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

“Naw, no trouble. Just give me a minute. I’ve got to see a man about a horse,” and he gave a little wink.

Buck led his horse through town to McGuire’s and while he hitched it to the post Josie went inside to check the blackjack table for the man who had given them a lien on the watch. Sure enough he was there again, or perhaps he had never left. The man was fat and with greasy, thinning hair and a big unkempt beard. His shirt was soiled and one of his suspenders had nearly worn through. Seeing him now, Josie was surprised that he and Pat would ever have entrusted the watch to him. He went back outside to fetch Buck.

“What’re you gonna do to him? Rough him up? Oh boy, you wouldn’t kill him, would you?” Josie didn’t relish the idea of bloodshed but couldn’t quite quench the desire to see his hero in action.

“No sir, I aim to go in there and offer to buy it from him. Get him his money back and maybe a little extra. No need for things to get violent. Say, what’d you let him have it for?”

Josie colored a little thinking again how much money he and Pat had lost. “Twenty dollars. I know it’s an awful lot.”

“Aw, that ain’t so bad. Let’s us just go and talk to him, shall we?”

The man was hunched over a pile of chips and watched intently as the dealer began another hand. Tobacco juice dribbled down his chin and stained his beard as he chewed.

“Excuse me, sir!” Buck called as he approached the table. The man did not look up. Buck tapped him on the shoulder and he turned with perhaps the sourest look on his face that Josie had ever seen.

“What?” The man glanced back over his shoulder as if he expected the dealer to cheat.

“I hear tell you bought a nice watch from this young man here last night. I was hoping I might buy it off you. Mind if I take a look at it?”

The man sneered, but then he reached into his pocket and pulled out the watch. “This watch?”

Buck turned to Josie for confirmation. “Yeah, I believe that’s the one. It sure does look fine. How does twenty-five dollars sound? I’m told you acquired it for twenty, but I’ll throw in a little extra for being such a good custodian. Deal?”

The man turned back to the dealer and gave him a glare as he slid his cards down the front of his shirt. He turned back to Buck and growled “You makin’ fun o’ me?” He was clearly drunk.

“No sir, I just wanted to buy that watch back for my friend here. I meant no disrespect.”

The man stood and shoved the watch back into his pocket as he spat a fat gob of black juice onto the floor. “Well, sir, I’d sure love to help you out but I’ve grown mighty attached to this watch. I ain’t known it long but I do think it suits me. So I’ll let you have it, but not for less than a hundred bucks.” He said this last bit with his head down and a wry glance up to meet Buck’s eyes.

“A hundred? Now be reasonable, mister. That watch belonged to this boy’s father and --”

Josie decided to chime in. “My friend’s father, sir.”

Buck looked down at him with an expression that let Josie know that he wasn’t exactly helping.

“All right but anyway you’d be doing me a real favor if you’d let me have it for...thirty?”

“Nope, can’t do that, sir. Maybe if you’d offer, hmm, a hundred and ten? I think I could let it go for that.” The man chuckled and patted Buck’s shoulder in a gesture of mock friendship before giving him a not-so-playful shove.

Josie was rankled. “Hey! You know who that is?”

The man looked Buck over. “No. Educate me.”

Josie was stunned. “Why, this man is Buck Jamison! You ought to know who a man is before you start pickin’ a fight with him!” Buck started to say something but Josie continued. “He’s the fastest gun I ever heard of and if you won’t play fair in giving over that watch, well, I guess he’d be glad to shoot you down and take it from you!”

Buck blanched but Josie didn’t see. He was too excited to notice.

The man looked Buck over again and said “Well I ain’t never heard of a ‘Buck Jamison’ but if this son of a bitch wants a duel he’s got one!” He fished out his cards and slapped them on the table, then turned back to Buck and said “Be out in the street there at noon if you ever want to show your face in this town again. We don’t cotton much to yellow cowards around here. If I was you I’d get my affairs in order. I’m a mighty fair shot when I’ve got some liquor in me,” and he turned back to his game. “Hit.”

Josie was delighted that he’d get to see Buck in action and as they turned to leave the saloon he kept picturing the events to come in his mind. He expected Buck to share in his excitement but when he looked up at him out on the street what he saw was a man scared near to death.

“What’s the matter, Buck? You can’t be afraid of that fool in there can you?”

“Kid,” said Buck. “I think you just killed me.”

Buck Jamison was, needless to say, a fraud. He hadn’t performed any of the daring deeds that had been described in the stories. In fact he was never an outlaw at all, just a small-time rancher from up north.

The folks back east had begun to fall in love with the romance of the frontier, and so when a big city publisher had approached him about using his name and likeness for some serialized adventure tales he had agreed, welcoming the extra money and not much minding having to sit for a number of portraits. Buck had always liked the idea of fame, and here it had fallen into his lap without his having to do anything.

But now this damn kid had gotten him into a mess of trouble.

He was a decent shot when he needed to be, but his nerves were getting the better of him and besides he’d never had to draw on anything tougher than a fox before. Sure, he could just skip town. Any business that he aimed to conduct in Tilburg could be taken care of just as easily elsewhere. And there was a fair chance that the man would forget the whole thing. But his honor was at stake, and if the name “Buck Jamison” became tarnished he could say goodbye to any future royalties from the publisher; no one wants to read about a coward.

Weighing the possibilities, Buck decided on a course of action and prepared to face his future, and the rest, of course, is history.