May, 2010

Issue #8

Showdown on Old Man River
by C. Allan Butkus

A shrill blast from the River Belle's steam whistle drew a cloud of angry retorts from a flock of crows as they took to wing. The tall gentleman standing at the bow watched as the dark forms swooped and then skimmed across the brown waters of the river.

The Mississippi ignored their complaints as it did the steady beats of the stern-wheeler's passage.

He reached up and loosened his string tie, and the opened his black coat to allow the slight breeze to cool him. Lifting his arms and then flexing his shoulders, he took a breath. He stifled a slight cough with the back of his hand, and then reached under his coat to shift the weight of his shoulder holster. Although the self-cocking 44 nestled there had been his companion longer than he chose to remember, he often wished that it were lighter. He returned his attention to the crows. They had completed their journey and had settled in the dead arms of an ancient cypress tree on the far bank of the river. They could be still heard discussing the problems of the day.

The soft scent of jasmine caught the man's attention, just as he heard a broken sob from behind him. His hand dropped to the wooden grips of the 44 as he turned with a smooth grace to face the sound. What he saw stopped his hand. She was very slim and quite beautiful; her blond hair tumbled down on bare shoulders that had yet to see twenty years. She held a delicate lace handkerchief to her tear stained eyes, and her snowy white shoulders shook with sobs.

He moved quickly toward her and asked, "Excuse me ma'am. May I be of any assistance?"

She looked up at him and tried unsuccessfully to stifle her sobs. "I don't know what I can do. He's going to kill himself, all that money, and it's all gone, what can I do? We have only been married for two months."

"Ma'am, please try to stop crying, it's a one thing that I can't handle. Tell me why you are crying, maybe I'll be able to help." He took out a handkerchief, and coughed quietly as he stood waiting for her to answer.

Her story, when he heard it, had been told many times on the river. Her husband owned a small plantation down river. It was near Baton Rouge and was called The Oaks. He was carrying money that he and his neighbors were going to invest in a new strain of cottonseed. They had arranged with a broker in Saint Louis for the purchase, and her husband was to oversee its transportation down river. Unfortunately, he had started gambling and lost $30,000. He had complained to her that the gamblers had cheated him.

They had let him win almost $30,000, and then he lost it all in one hand. She paused and tried to dry her eyes. "Now we are ruined and he's going to kill himself. I'll be left all alone." She started sobbing again.

He looked down at her; her head scarcely came up to his chin. She was much like a china doll he had once seen in New Orleans. "Ma'am, you don't know me, but I may be able to provide some help. What cabin are you in? "

"Cabin #4. But what can you do, these people are professional gamblers?"

He smiled before answering. "Do this for me, go to your cabin and keep your husband with you. Don't let him leave the cabin. It's important that he must stay out of sight. You stay there with him and I'll get in touch with you."

"But I don't understand . . ."

"Please just do as I ask. Now go to your husband and keep him with you." Reaching out he placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Please?"

She looked up at him and then bit her lower lip and nodded.

He turned and left her standing there, and headed for the main saloon in the center of the riverboat.

As he entered, he was able to spot the gamblers immediately. There were three of them, all dressed in flashy clothing. He took a place at the bar and watched them operate. They worked as a team, but they were not skilled card handlers. The tallest gambler seemed to be the leader; the other two appeared to be brothers. They were in the process of separating a fool from his money.

He walked up to table just as a tall farmer pushed back his chair and stood. "Damn, I never had such bad luck ever afore, I done lost everything but my name." He turned and stalked away.

"You gents got room for one more?"

Three gator-like smiles appraised him.

"Why sure stranger, what's your game?" asked the flinty eyed man in the center.

"Looks like y'all are playing stud, and that's fine with me."

He flashed a huge roll of the greenbacks. "Are these okay or would you rather play for gold?" He produced a long leather pouch of gold dust, and placed it on the table.

Six eyes were glued to the money and the gold on the table. The stranger kept his face blank, but he could tell that they were already dividing it up among themselves.

For the first few hours of play, the cards were to kind everyone, but then he had a lucky streak, and won almost $5,000. He appeared to be exuberant. "This must be my lucky day, what say we raise the stakes? I'm sure you gentleman would be willing to contribute to my welfare." Then he laughed loudly, and slapped his hand down on the table.

A dark look passed between the three gamblers, but they agreed to continue playing.

The stranger noted the sloppy dealing going on, but pretended not to notice. He also noticed they were folding when they had good hands. He knew that he was being set up to take a big fall.

They continued to play through the night and the stakes rose higher and higher. As the sun rose, he won a pot of $35,000. All three gamblers moaned and complained about his lucky streak, but they continued playing. He acted as though he was getting drunk and made a few mistakes, but became loud when he won a good hand. The gamblers continued flashing looks at each other.

The stranger wiped his eyes as if he was tired, and then said, "Boys I've really enjoyed myself tonight, but it's getting late. Let's play one more hand and then call it a day."

The tall gambler had the deal, one of the other gamblers cut the cards and then he dealt. He noticed the dealer palm a card and then pass another card to one of his accomplices.

This is what he had been waiting for, he stood and drew his 44 and shouted, "Y'all are thieves. I saw that you have a card palmed. I demand satisfaction. Shall we settle this over cold steel, or are you all cowards?"

The Captain of the riverboat rushed over to their table, "There will be no shooting in here!" He looked all four of them over with a critical eye. "Now tell me what's going on. I don't want no bloodshed on my boat. Maybe we can talk this out."

He motioned with his 44, "The best way to settle this is with lead, I should just drop them all right here."

The Captain said, "There will be none of that on my boat. Can you prove they were cheating?"

"Damned straight I can. If you look there you can see the card he dropped on the floor." He repeated his demand for a duel.

The gamblers knew they were caught, but they proclaimed their innocence. None of them were foolish enough to go up against the leveled 44. They had all killed before, they were not afraid to face the stranger, but not like this. The duel seemed a good way to assure that they got the money. They agreed to the duel.

With the Captain's help, it was decided that the stranger would have a duel with each of the three, one after the other. If he survived.

Although it was unspoken, each of the gamblers hoped that one or two of their number would lose. That way, there would be more money for the survivor or survivors. It was not conceivable that they would lose everything. Gamblers by virtue of being gamblers believed they would win.

The captain took possession of the money, and after counting it, and had the First Mate put it in a cloth bag, for the winner of the duel. Then they followed the Captain to the top deck. The First Mate returned from the Captains cabin with a cased pair of dueling pistols. They were beautifully made single shot flintlock weapons. They were loaded as the duelist's watched. Because the stranger had issued the challenge, the first gambler had his choice of weapons.

The Captain explained the rules; "You will stand 12 paces apart, facing each other. On my command of ONE you will raise your weapon. On the count of TWO, you may take aim. On the count of THREE you may fire. In the event that you both miss, the pistols will it be reloaded. If you both agree that your honor has been satisfied, I will declare the duel as over. Otherwise we will start over. We will continue until one or both of you are dead. Are there any questions? No, then let us begin. Take your positions."

The duelists moved away without speaking to each other. When they were in position, the Captain began. "ONE," both pistols came up together.

"TWO."

A strange thing happened; the stranger didn't aim at the gambler. He just stood with his weapon pointed in the air. The gambler took aim, but his hand was trembling. Death was near and he knew it.

"THREE."

The gambler squeezed the trigger and the flint ignited the powder in the pan, it flashed and then the gun fired. Just as the flint ignited the powder in the flash pan, the stranger stepped sidewise to the gambler. This made him a smaller target, the next instant the ball bored a hole through his coat, but it drew no blood.

Slowly, the stranger turned to face the gambler and then began walking forward with a measured step. He raised the pistol to eye level and sighted on the gambler's head.

There was sweat on the gambler's brow. He looked at the Captain and said, "He's walking closer, he can't do that."

The Captain smiled, "Yes he can. You fired, now its his turn, he can get as close as he wants."

The gambler was terrified. The hole in the pistol's muzzle was as big as the doorway to hell. He knew he was going to die. He looked around to his friends. They were as frightened as he was. They knew that they were next to face the stranger. All thought of money was gone, and they were now only concerned with how they were going to survive. They knew they would face the same fate after he was gone.

The stranger was about 4 ft. away when the gambler could no longer stand the tension. He dropped the empty pistol, and leapt over the railing with a cry of fear. He landed with a loud splash into the muddy water of the river.

His friends followed him quickly into the river.

The Captain looked at the stranger and smiled. "Good, no blood. I hate it when we have blood on the decks. It stains the wood and it's slippery."

The stranger lowered the pistol. He slowly dropped the hammer to half cock and handed it butt first to the Captain. He started to turn away, but stopped as the Captain spoke.

"Stranger, I've seen many a thing in the years I've been on the Big Muddy, but that was one of the most amazing. Would you care to tell me why you didn't shoot when you had the chance?"

"I'll answer your question, but I'd rather that you didn't let it get around what I tell you. Can I trust you?"

"You have my word. I'm just confounded interested in the answer."

He moved closer to the Captain and said in a low voice, "I don't trust flint locks when it's this damp, they misfire. Besides that, I am a gambler and I can read men pretty good. That fellow could not hit the floor if he fell down. I figured if I made him break, the others would follow."

The Captain burst out laughing, "Your secret's safe with me." Then he called the Mate over and gave the money to the stranger.

The stranger left and went down to his cabin. After locking the door he counted the money. He divided the money into two piles. He counted $30,000 in greenbacks and put them back in the cloth sack. He took the rest of the money and put it in his carpetbag, with some of his clothes. He then left his cabin, locking the door on the way out.

He walked down the deck until he found cabin #4. He knocked softly and then after waiting a few moments, he knocked again.

The door opened and the young woman stood before him once again. Her hair was in disarray from sleep, but she was still quite fetching. She clutched a blanket over her shoulders. "Oh, its you. I was afraid to answer, I thought it might be the men that took my husband's money." She motioned with her head, "My husband is asleep, please be quiet."

Without speaking, he handed her the bag containing the money.

"What is this?" she asked as she opened the bag. A gasp escaped her lovely throat, "How did you manage to get this back? This is wonderful, you have given us our life back. I wish there was some way that I could repay you. Is there any thing I can do?"

She stopped as she thought of what she had said. A look of shock spread across her face as she realized what she would have to do to repay the stranger for his kindness, Then she squared her shoulders; she let the blanket slip a little. "I owe you so much, I guess that it's the least I could do." She tried to put on a worldly face, but failed.

The stranger reached out toward her. She started to pull away, but then she caught herself. She raised her chin and looked up into his eyes. He reached over and tugged the blanket back up over her shoulder.

"Today I was able to help you, someday I may need help. If and when that time comes I would like to know there is someone out there that I can count on. Are you that someone?"

She was speechless; she bit her lower lip and nodded her head.

"Good, we all need friends." He turned and moved off down the deck.

She came to her senses and called after him. "I don't know who you are. How will I know if you need help? What is your name?"

The stranger turned and then removed his hat. "Folks just call me Doc. Doc Holliday." He turned again and walked off with just a slight cough.

Click here to be notified when each new issue comes out!