Starring Pete Duel and Ben Murphy
Glenn Ford as Asa Morgan
Donna Reed as Mrs. Morgan
James Keach as Gideon Brown
Stacy Keach as Luther Brown
Randolph Scott as Enoch Johnson
Jimmy Stewart as Sheriff Halsey
“I found one, Kid.” Heyes didn’t bother looking up when he spoke, though he did lay the local newspaper on the table, and was careful to keep his left index finger pointing to two lines of small type partway down the fourth page.
“Great. Can we order now? I’m hungry.” Curry didn’t bother to hide his irritation and he did look up, with annoyance, from reading the menu of the restaurant they were sitting in, at his partner, who grinned back at him.
“If we don’t find work pretty soon, you won’t be able to order anything after tomorrow.” Heyes glanced at his own menu. “I hope you weren’t planning on ordering the broiled beefsteak.”
Curry scowled. “’Course not!” he replied indignantly. “I know we need to conserve our funds for important stuff.” He glanced longingly at the third item listed on the menu and ordered the stewed beef instead.
Heyes smiled knowingly as Curry politely gave his order to the waitress, who brought them their food in short order.
“So what did you find, Heyes?” Curry was finally ready to listen to his partner, having eaten half his meal. He enviously eyed the table across the room that held the dessert offerings.
Heyes read the announcement. “Trappers needed. Twenty dollars a day. Bonus possible. Her-pet-ology experience preferred.”
Curry pondered, then pounced on the potential pitfall. “What’s her-pet-ology?”
“I don’t know, but it don’t matter. It says it’s preferred, not required. We’ll finesse it.”
“I don’t know, Heyes. What if it turns out to be somethin’ real hard on the back?”
“You got a better idea? I don’t see a whole lot of jobs just begging us to take them.” Heyes looked around the restaurant, as if he expected to find some jobs announcing themselves at the other tables.
“Funny, Heyes.” Curry sighed. “All right; we’ll check it out. But I’m warnin’ you, I don’t think I’m goin’ to like it.”
* * *
At nine o’clock the next morning, Heyes and Curry arrived at the Lazy S Ranch, located a few miles north of the town of Glory. Their look of respectability was only slightly spoiled by the gun belts each man wore, slung low and tied around their thighs.
Heyes knocked on the front door of the one-story building that was clearly the living quarters of the ranch owner. Another building, presumably a bunkhouse, was situated about a hundred yards away. A barn was located on the opposite side of the ranch house and next to it was a corral in which several horses placidly ate grass. Cows were visible in the distance.
“What kind of name is Lazy S?” Heyes grumbled, as they waited for someone to come to the door.
“The kind that’s goin’ to give us a job. You think.”
A tall man, whose dark hair was flecked with gray, opened the door a moment later. “Yes? Can I help you?” he asked warily.
Heyes turned on the charm. “We’re here about the job. The one in the newspaper, for trappers,” he clarified.
The man looked at him, at Curry, at their guns, and back at Heyes again. “You got any herpetology experience?” he asked skeptically. He came out onto the porch and closed the door behind him.
“No…” Heyes glossed over that rapidly, “But the announcement says it’s not required. We’re quick learners, and good workers, Mr...” Heyes waited for an introduction.
“Asa Morgan,” the man supplied. “I own the Lazy S.”
Curry spoke up. “Mr. Morgan, we’ve done some trappin’ before, so we have an idea of what’s involved.”
Morgan’s mouth twitched slightly. “You boys know what herpetology is?”
“It means it’s a job that pays a bonus if it’s done well,” Heyes replied smoothly.
Morgan started laughing. Curry looked at Heyes, who was a bit taken aback by the ranch owner’s response.
“Boys, I’ll hire you, but you may want to reconsider when you hear what you have to do,” Morgan warned them.
“Thank you, Mr. Morgan. I’m Joshua Smith and this here’s my partner, Thaddeus Jones,” Heyes introduced themselves. “So, what is it you need trapped?”
“Rattlers.”
Curry glared at Heyes. “Mr. Morgan, I’d like to speak to my partner for a moment, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Morgan walked to one end of the porch where he couldn’t overhear the heated conversation.
Curry whispered furiously. “Heyes, we are NOT takin’ this job!”
“Come on, Kid, how hard can it be?”
“That ain’t the point! The point is rattlers are ornery critters who don’t take kindly to bein’ caught!”
“Sounds kind of familiar, don’t it? Kid, we need the money and it can’t be worse than trapping cougars.”
Kid glowered at his friend. “I’m goin’ to say this just once, Heyes. Ifn you get bit, I ain’t suckin’ the venom out of you!”
“You mean you’d let me die of snakebite? What kind of partner is that?”
“No, Heyes, I’d shoot you first! And put me out of my misery!” Curry calmed himself. “Fine; we’ll take the job. I just hope you know what you’re doing, ‘cos trappin’ rattlesnakes ain’t my idea of stayin’ out of trouble!”
Heyes called over to the ranch owner. “Mr. Morgan, we’d still like to take the job. It ain’t more dangerous than trapping cougars, is it?”
“Well,” Morgan mused, “I’ve never had a problem with cougars. I couldn’t rightly say.”
“See, Thaddeus—You don’t have to worry about cougars none!” Heyes smiled brightly.
Curry rolled his eyes but made sure Morgan didn’t see. “Mr. Morgan, what exactly do you want us to do?”
“How about you come inside and I’ll explain,” Morgan said. “I expect you could use some refreshment.”
* * *
Morgan led Heyes and Curry into a parlor, pausing to ask a woman he introduced as his wife to bring them a pot of coffee and some slices of railroad cake, telling the men his wife was renowned in the county for her baked goods. Curry grimaced at the name but sat back in his chair contentedly after the first bite. Heyes smiled to himself as he observed Curry’s reaction.
After a suitable time to appreciate the food and drink, Morgan began to describe the job. “You will actually be participating in Glory’s annual rattlesnake round-up, but working for me while you compete.” He noted the startled looks on the men’s faces. “Didn’t you know about the round-up? There were signs in front of the town hall and the sheriff’s office. Surely you saw them?”
Curry and Heyes shook their heads. “No, sir. We checked into the hotel and went to the restaurant. Had no reason to go anywhere else since there’s no poker at the saloon until the weekend,” Heyes said, sadly.
“Well, every year I sponsor a few teams in the round-up. First of all, you’ll need to buy the right equipment.” He noted the glum looks that neither man was able to hide. “Don’t worry, it’s not expensive and you can probably recoup the cost by selling your gear when you’re done. All you need, each of you, is a long pole made of solid wood, with a hook on the end, and some canvas sacks.”
Heyes nodded but Curry asked, “How are we supposed to catch the snakes?”
“Rattlers like certain habitats. I’m sure you know that, right?” Morgan checked, and appeared satisfied when both men responded affirmatively. “You have to search for those places and when you find one where a rattler might be, stick the pole there and see if anything moves. If you see a snake, try to trap it with the hook, then use the pole to flip it high into the air. When it falls, the snake’ll curl into a ball and you’ll be able to prod it into your sack. Once it’s inside, the darkness will keep it calm and quiet. You can carry the sacks with the snakes inside them the whole day.”
Morgan continued his explanation. “At the end of every day, you bring your snakes to the weighing station. That’ll be in front of the sheriff’s office. There’s a $250 prize to the man who catches the longest rattler. Sheriff Halsey and Enoch Johnson will record how much each snake weighs and how long it is. Enoch Johnson holds the record for catching the longest rattlesnake. He’s retired now, but he still knows how to handle those snakes. That’s why he’s the one to weigh and measure them. And everyone in town trusts the sheriff to write it all down correctly. He’s real honest,” he assured Curry and Heyes.
“There’s just a few more things you need to know,” Morgan added. “First of all, as your sponsor, you’ll be required to wear my team shirt.” He picked up two long-sleeved shirts from a small table near his chair and passed one to each man.
Heyes unfolded the shirt and held it up to check the size. It looked like it would fit well enough. “That’s fine, Mr. Morgan.”
Curry noticed the lettering on the back of the shirt he’d been given, which Heyes, who’d only been looking at the front of his shirt, hadn’t seen. He read out loud, “Morgan’s Morsels. Mouthwatering Meals.” He made it sound like a question.
Heyes turned his shirt over and stared at the red letters. He raised an eyebrow and waited for Morgan to give an explanation.
“An added bonus in working for me is that you can eat all the snake meat you want, for free. Don’t worry; you don’t have to cook it yourselves! That’s the second thing you need to know. Catching the snakes is only part of the round-up. There’s also the cooking contest.”
Curry perked up. Heyes snuck a glance at his partner and grinned to himself.
“The men catch the snakes but the women get to cook them. Each day, they compete to see who can make the tastiest dish. So you have to bring in live snakes because the ladies need the freshest meat possible; otherwise, the meat might be spoiled by the time it gets to them. Anyone in town who wants to be a judge just has to pay the daily fee and then they can rate each entry. But as my employees, I’ll pay your fees for you.”
Heyes and Curry grinned at that piece of news.
“I should tell you that my wife has won the competition for the past two years,” the proud husband said. “But no one knows who cooks a particular dish. They’re only labeled with numbers. That’s to prevent fraud.”
The grins turned into frowns. “You mean we have to judge your wife’s cooking?” asked Curry unhappily.
“Your advertisement did mention a bonus,” Heyes reminded his employer quickly. “Was that it?” He kept his expression carefully neutral.
“No, of course not. I’ll pay you each a bonus of fifty dollars if you can rid my ranch of at least forty rattlers. There’s too many snakes on my land and I don’t like my livestock getting bit. Reduces my profit, you know.”
“I bet the hands don’t like getting bit either,” Heyes said, too softly for anyone but Curry to hear.
“Now, if that’s all clear, you can take these shirts and go on back to town to buy your equipment. You’ll find everything you need at the mercantile. The round-up officially starts tomorrow at ten in the morning. I want you back here a half hour before that so I can give you and my other teams some final instructions.” Morgan stood up.
Heyes also rose. “Just one more thing, Mr. Morgan. The pay is twenty dollars a day for each of us, right?” When Morgan nodded, Heyes asked, “So how long is the round-up for?”
“Oh, that’s right. You haven’t seen the announcements so you don’t know. The round-up lasts five days. Five days of the most fun this town has for the whole year! You’re going to have yourselves a real fine time, boys!”
* * *
Heyes and Curry went directly to the mercantile to buy their equipment. A stack of hooked poles was piled up against a wall and next to them were canvas bags in a variety of sizes. Heyes tried to negotiate the cost with the owner of the general store and although he was able to get the prices reduced marginally, Heyes suspected they had been inflated to start with, and said so, repeatedly, after they left the mercantile.
“Let it go, Heyes,” Curry said wearily. “You can make up for it by catching lots of snakes. That was the plan wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, but…”
“But what? It ain’t like we had a choice. There wasn’t no other place to buy the stuff.”
“That’s the problem with these towns,” Heyes grumbled. “Everything’s a monopoly. Just like the banks and railroads. Someone ought to do something about it!”
“Like we used to? What? You want to rob the mercantile? You know that won’t change nothin’.”
“I know, but…”
“But what? You goin’ to hold a grudge against a man just doin’ his job?”
“Well, when you put it like that…”
“Just let it go, Heyes,” Curry reiterated. His stomach growled.
Heyes grunted and gave in. “I suppose you want to eat lunch now.” They deposited the poles, bags and shirts in their hotel room, then ate a frugal lunch in the restaurant, being even more careful with their money since they had yet to acquire additional funds.
Afterwards, they walked over to the town hall to read the announcement about the round-up. They stood at the back of the crowd and listened to the gossip that swirled around them. They eventually reached the entrance to the building and were able to read about the upcoming competition for themselves, then they returned to the hotel to discuss in private what they had learned.
Heyes stood, barefoot, at the window in their room, watching the town go by below him for a few minutes before moving over to the bed to put his boots on. “From what those people were saying, it don’t sound like it’s going to be too hard to catch those snakes. Did you hear that fella say how he caught ten rattlers in one day? We’ll earn that bonus real easy, Kid!”
“Did you miss the part when they also said no one but Hiram Butler, the fella who’s won the contest the past two years, had ever done that?” Curry asked irritably. “It ain’t gonna be as easy as you think, Heyes.”
“Well, we got a secret weapon nobody else has!”
“We do? What?”
“You!”
“Me? How’s that?” Kid was puzzled.
“Think about it, Kid! You’re probably the fastest gun of anyone in the round-up, right?” Heyes didn’t wait for Curry’s reluctant nod of assent. “I’ve seen you shoot rattlers. Instead of killing them, you just got to use those reflexes to catch them. Nothing to it!” he said confidently.
“Maybe,” Curry said doubtfully. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
“Let’s find out now. Come on!” Heyes strapped his gun belt back on and put his hat on his head. He walked over to the door, only then realizing Curry wasn’t right behind him.
He was still sitting in his chair. “Where, Heyes? I’m comfortable right here.”
“Let’s go find out how well you can catch rattlers.”
“Shouldn’t that be WE, Heyes? You’re catchin’ them, too, ain’t you?”
“’Course I am! But I figure you’ll catch more. ‘Cos, I got to admit, you’re faster than me,” Heyes said generously. “Hey! Want to make a wager?”
Suspicious, Curry asked, “What kind of wager?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Heyes replied, a little too nonchalantly. “How about… Whoever catches the most snakes gets to, uh, gets to have the bath first for the next month?”
Curry looked at his partner with narrowed eyes. “You mean the most snakes in a day or by the end of the round-up?”
“Up to you, Kid,” Heyes told him expansively.
After thinking for a few minutes, Curry still couldn’t find the catch. “All right,” he agreed with reluctance. “Whoever catches the most snakes by the end of the round-up gets to be the first one in the bath for a whole month.” Curry restated the wager in his own words to make sure he and Heyes understood each other.
Heyes sighed. “If that’s the way you want to do it, okay.”
Heyes’ words made Curry reconsider. He looked at his partner. “What are you trying to pull, Heyes?”
Innocent brown eyes looked back. “Kid,” Heyes tried to placate him, “Would I ever try and put one over on you?”
“All the time, Heyes. There’s this coin you got…”
Heyes laughed. “Nah. Have a little faith. You got a real good chance of winning the competition, not just beating me. Let’s go find out how good we both are.” He opened the door.
* * *
They found a field on what they thought was Morgan’s land a few miles out of Glory and unloaded their equipment. After tethering their horses to some shrubs, they picked up the poles and started poking the underbrush, trying to flush out any rattlesnakes.
For a while, they worked in silence. They used their poles to turn over rocks where rattlers might be resting, and pushed aside the sometimes-thick vegetation that covered the ground. Neither Heyes nor Curry saw any snakes but they did manage to disturb some lizards and birds.
“Heyes, I been thinking,” Curry began, about a half hour later. He dropped his pole on the ground and took a drink from his canteen.
The other man turned. “Now, Kid, we’ve talked about that.”
Curry ignored the warning. “I don’t think we should be doin’ this.”
“Huh? Why not?” Heyes was too surprised to continue teasing his partner.
“It don’t seem right. What if we do find a snake? What are we goin’ to do with it—put it back?”
“Well, yeah. We don’t want to capture it now. Then it won’t count.”
“Exactly! Don’t that seem like cheatin’ to you?” Curry asked seriously.
Heyes stared at him. “Kid, that ain’t cheating! It’s practicing! We need to practice so when the round-up starts, we’ll know what to do. That’s just common sense.”
“I don’t know, Heyes. It don’t seem right to me. I mean, if we find some snakes now and let them go, then we’ll know exactly where to find them again. Seems like that’d give us an unfair advantage.”
“Kid, you practice shooting your gun all the time. Does that give you an unfair advantage? No,” Heyes answered the question himself, “It just means you want to do your best when you have to. It’s the same thing here. We’re practicing so we can do our best when it really matters.”
“That does make sense,” Curry acknowledged, then added, “Leastways, no one’s seen us so no one’ll know where to find our rattlers!”
“That’s the spirit! You know, just ‘cos we’re going straight don’t mean we got to be shortsighted, too! Let’s look around, get the lay of the land some. We’re strangers here but everyone else is probably from this area. That gives them an unfair advantage over us, don’t you think? It ain’t cheating if it’s just evening the odds!” Heyes finished persuasively.
* * *
Asa Morgan gave his instructions to the six men standing before him. The others were hands on his ranch, and Morgan introduced them to Heyes and Curry.
“Boys, this here’s Gideon and Luther Brown,” he said, pointing to the competent-looking brothers who’d been sponsored by Morgan in previous years. “Last year, they came in second in the round-up, with a snake that measured five feet seven inches. They’re planning on coming in first this year, so you have your work cut out for you.” The Browns weren’t exactly hostile to Heyes and Curry but they weren’t particularly friendly, either. “And this team is Sam Watkins and Frank Miller,” Morgan said, gesturing to the other pair.
The rancher ended with an admonition. “Now, as you all know, there are plenty of rattlers on my land and each team has a sporting chance to win the competition. I expect gentlemanly behavior from each of you. Good luck.” Morgan went back inside his ranch.
The Brown brothers immediately got on their horses and rode south.
Watkins and Miller, with a friendly “be seein’ ya,” went to the bunkhouse to collect their equipment and the provisions they’d left in the ice box, then rode north.
Heyes and Curry remained in the sun in front of the ranch house to discuss what to do next.
“Think we should tag along after Miller and Watkins?” Curry asked. “Maybe they’ll give us a few pointers.”
“Or maybe they’ll point us in the wrong direction. How would we ever know?”
Curry laughed. “You got a suspicious mind, Heyes!”
“Yeah, and a good thing, too. One partner who believes everything he hears is enough!”
“Hey! Only when it comes to the ladies. And sometimes I’ve been right,” Curry added, pleased with those memories.
“Hmmph. Sometimes…more like, a few times. Maybe one out of ten times.”
“At least I don’t calculate the odds of it turning it out bad beforehand.”
“That’s ‘cos you don’t think beforehand! That’s the whole problem, Kid!”
Seeing the expression on Curry’s face, Heyes rapidly changed the subject. “I vote we head off on our own and see what we can do ourselves. We can always find the others later if we need to.”
“Fine.” Curry walked over to his horse and began loading his equipment.
Heyes joined him and got his own horse ready. “Aw, come on, Kid. You know I was only joking.”
“Sure, Heyes. Whatever you say.” Curry mounted and wheeled his horse around to face the other man. “Let’s go.”
With a sigh, Heyes followed.
* * *
Picking a direction the other men hadn’t taken, they rode west so they were equally in range of both teams.
When Heyes spotted a rocky outcrop that looked promising, he dismounted several yards away and tethered his horse. He motioned to Curry that he was going to move closer.
Curry laughed at his partner’s caution. “Heyes, rattlers can’t hear. It’s okay to talk.”
“When did you become the herpetology expert?” Heyes grumbled.
“It’s a well-known fact,” Curry smirked, not bothering to add that he’d heard someone say so at the town hall yesterday.
“Oh, well, then,” Heyes said, a little sheepishly, but then rallied as he focused on his objective. “There might be one here. You better stand back,” he warned Curry.
Heyes took his pole and crept forward. When he was about four feet away from the outcrop, he thrust the pole into a gap formed by two overlapping rocks and slowly wiggled it around. Hoping he’d trapped something, Heyes carefully but quickly raked his pole out of the space and, with both hands holding it tightly at the other end, levered the pole into the air and flung whatever he’d hooked up and away from him.
Curry walked over to where the snake had landed. “Heyes, you better see this.”
Heyes hurried over. “How big is it, Kid?” he asked eagerly, hope and pride both evident on his face.
“Oh, it’s big,” Curry assured him. “But it ain’t exactly what you think.” He casually picked it up, to Heyes’ immediate consternation.
“Kid, are you out of your mind? What if you get bit?”
“I don’t think that’s likely.” Curry held out a long, twisted tree branch and grinned. “Here’s your snake, Heyes.”
“No, it ain’t. That’s just a branch.” Heyes turned his eyes to the ground, searching for a rattler that had curled up and was lying in a defensive position.
“Exactly. That’s what you caught. I was watchin’ closely, Heyes. Trust me; that’s your snake.”
“Oh.” With a rueful shake of his head, and a chuckle to cover his embarrassment, Heyes made the best of the situation. “Well, at least now I know how to catch them!”
Curry couldn’t help himself and he started laughing. “Yeah, and now all you got to do is catch the real thing!”
* * *
Two and a half hours later, Heyes and Curry had tracked the Brown brothers and were watching them from behind a small rise in the landscape.
Gideon and Luther Brown’s experience was clearly visible as they worked with an economy of movement and speech to capture a large number of rattlers. Heyes and Curry withdrew as silently as they had arrived and returned to the area they had staked out for themselves, having a much better idea of what they needed to do to trap the snakes.
Fifty minutes and a few unsuccessful attempts later, Curry caught their first rattler. He carefully pushed it into his canvas sack and tied the rope around the opening tight.
He grinned at his partner. “Your turn!”
“I’m waiting for a big one,” Heyes announced blithely.
Curry shot a look at his friend. “You just keep on thinkin’ that, Heyes, and I’ll just keep on catchin’ them.”
“That’s the spirit, Kid!”
But Heyes kept trying and shortly thereafter he caught his first snake. It wasn’t as big as Curry’s but it was a respectable three feet in length.
“Hey, Kid! I’m catching up to you!”
“Yeah? I reckon you got a ways to go before that happens. Not that I’m keepin’ track, mind. We’re partners, remember?”
“Sure. But you haven’t forgotten our wager, have you?”
“Nope!” And with that terse response, Curry rededicated himself to trapping rattlesnakes.
Heyes watched him for a moment before he also devoted himself to the job of winning the wager and the competition, and earning the much-desired and badly-needed bonus.
Curry glanced at the lowering sun. “What time you got?”
Heyes took out his pocket watch and answered, “It’s four-fifty. You reckon we should call it a day?”
“Morgan told us we have to check in between five and six to get our snakes counted, right?”
“Yeah. We sure can’t afford to be disqualified if we’re late. All right; let’s pack up and get back to town.”
* * *
Heyes and Curry nervously glanced at the crowd which had formed outside the sheriff’s office but no one was paying them any particular attention. They stood with a group of other trappers, all waiting to have their snakes officially weighed and measured.
All eyes were on the two men who stood in front of a large scale on a table. Enoch Johnson cautiously removed another snake from a sack, holding it at the tail with the forefinger and thumb of his left hand and, with his right forefinger, index finger, and thumb, grasping the rattler firmly behind its head to prevent it from twisting around and biting him. He stretched the snake out and Sheriff Halsey recorded the length on a large piece of foolscap so all the spectators could see it easily. The snake was then weighed and the pounds and ounces were written next to its length.
The man who’d brought the snakes in watched with interest as the rest of his catch was dealt with in a similar fashion. When Johnson and Halsey were finished, he collected his rattlers and made room for the next man in line.
Eventually, it was Heyes and Curry’s turn. They approached the table and Heyes gave his sack to Johnson. The sheriff wrote “J. Smith” under the name of the previous trapper and recorded the measurements as Johnson called them out. Heyes took back the sack with the two snakes he’d caught and stood aside for Curry, whose four snakes were weighed and measured in quick succession.
They were then directed to the location of the cooking competition and walked there with alacrity.
“Six ain’t bad for the first day but we got to catch more tomorrow if we’re going to have a chance at that bonus,” Heyes told Curry as they approached the tables set up for the women.
“Tomorrow we won’t be wastin’ half the day usin’ the poles the wrong way,” Curry told him. “We got the hang of it now, Heyes. We’ll get the bonus,” he reassured his partner.
After handing over their snakes to the women at the registration table for the cooking contest and receiving tickets that entitled them to judge the food entries as well as forms upon which to write their ratings, the two men wandered through the area, sampling the fare on offer and making appreciative comments about everything.
“What do you reckon we should try next, Heyes?”
“Well, the roasted rattlesnake tasted like something we eat on the trail when there’s nothing better around. The fried rattlesnake was real good with that spicy batter and you said the stew was even better than the beef stew in the restaurant, so you had seconds. Hard to believe you’re still hungry!”
Curry patted his stomach and grinned. “Let’s get something to drink. That stew was salty.”
They made their way over to the refreshment table and Curry took a glass from Mrs. Morgan, who along with another lady who was introduced as Mrs. Johnson, was handing out drinks to passersby.
“This sure tastes good!” Curry said, as he took a large swallow of the milky green liquid. “What is it?”
“Most of the ingredients are a secret but I can tell you the main one is snake bile,” Mrs. Morgan replied with a smile of her own.
“Huh?”
Reading from a card Heyes found tacked to the table, he stated, “Snake bile is a liquid produced in the gallbladder of snakes. It has medicinal value and is used to treat coughs and infections.”
Curry, who’d been about to swallow another mouthful of the sweet-tasting drink, choked instead and spat it out, grimacing with disgust.
“I think you should have another, Thaddeus,” Heyes recommended solicitously. “That cough don’t sound too good.”
His partner glared at him as he hastily put the glass back on the table. They moved off, with Heyes chuckling. Curry took a swig from his canteen, swilled the water around in his mouth, and expelled the liquid and the taste of the snake bile into a bush at his feet.
“I need a drink.”
“You just had one. Two, really.”
“I mean a real drink. Whiskey.”
“You mean you want to go back already? I thought you wanted to eat some more of this delicious food. You’ve only tasted…let’s see…half the entries. That’s not like you, Kid, passing up free food.”
“Heyes, I’m done eatin’ for today.”
“Well, all right. But I don’t want to hear you say you’re hungry half an hour from now!”
“Not a chance,” Curry muttered, and they both turned at the same moment in the direction of the saloon.
* * *
“How many we got so far?”
The sun was beginning to sink towards the horizon and Curry glanced at the two wiggling sacks on the ground nearby. “You know right well how many, Heyes, so stop pesterin’ me about it,” Curry grumbled.
“Just want to make sure we get that bonus, Kid.”
“We caught twenty-six snakes in the first three days. Every day we bring in more and more and we still got one day left. Seems like we’re in strikin’ distance to me.”
“Maybe for the bonus, yeah,” Heyes acknowledged. “But we got a ways to go to win the contest. Your longest snake was four feet ten inches but Gideon Brown got one that was just over five feet.”
“And your longest was only four feet three inches. Not very impressive, Heyes!” Curry laughed.
“Length ain’t everything, Kid! Mrs. Morgan said mine was one of the most delicious critters she’d ever eaten.”
“And you make fun of me for believin’ what the ladies say!”
“Width is just as important. Length times width,” intoned Heyes pedantically, “Equals the tastiest,” he finished with a smirk.
Curry snorted at his partner’s attempted display of mathematical prowess. “Sure, Heyes, you can believe that if you want. Right now I believe it’s time to go back to town.”
They fastened the sacks and equipment securely to their horses and started back to town, letting their horses canter for exercise after having been hobbled most of the day. Chatting about nothing in particular, they were enjoying the ride when Curry’s horse suddenly pulled up short. He tried unsuccessfully to nudge the animal into a walk and when that didn’t work, dismounted to see what was wrong. Lifting up each hoof, he discovered the horse had thrown a shoe.
Heyes lifted his left foot out of his stirrup. “Get up.”
Curry looked at his partner. “Sorry.”
“It ain’t your fault. But we don’t have a lot of time to spare,” Heyes told him, with a worried look at the lowering sun. “Let’s get going.”
Curry held the reins to his horse as, riding double, they tried to hurry back to Glory. They reached the sheriff’s office and quickly lined up behind the few men still there.
“It’s five-fifty, boys, thought you weren’t going to make it today,” Halsey told them.
Heyes smiled. “We were trapping so many rattlers, guess we just lost track of time.”
Heyes handed his sack over to Johnson. Opening it carefully, Johnson removed and measured first one and then another snake, calling out the numbers so Halsey could write them on the board.
“Five feet two and a half inches long!” An undercurrent of displeasure rippled through the watching crowd. Enoch Johnson looked just as surprised as Heyes and measured the snake again.
Suddenly, Johnson cried out. He held up his right hand, and inspected it as if seeing it for the first time. The sheriff yelled for someone to run and get the doctor, then he helped Johnson sit down on the boardwalk. It took but a moment for Heyes and Curry to realize the older man had been bitten.
Heyes grabbed the sack containing his snakes and, heedless of the danger to himself, shook it hard to make sure all the rattlers were completely inside before tying it tightly closed. He noticed some of the townsfolk give him angry glares, as if it were his fault Johnson had gotten bit.
By the time the doctor arrived, Johnson’s arm had begun to swell and he was looking pale. There was no shortage of volunteers to carry the injured man the short distance to the doctor’s surgery.
Heyes and Curry watched most of the men follow the doctor and his patient. There was nothing they could do so they left the weighing-in area but the accusatory glares followed them.
“I don’t like this, Heyes,” Curry said quietly, as they walked down the street to the cooking contestants’ area.
“Me neither, Kid. But it was an accident; people are upset now but they’ll see reason soon enough.”
They obtained their tickets and judging forms and started eating. Most of the gossip they heard was about what the secret ingredient in the soup by Entry #1 could be, and whether her soup or the rattlesnake and beans dish by Entry #9 would win that day’s competition. That had nothing to do with them, but they couldn’t help but notice the dubious glances cast in their direction as they walked past all the tables laden with rattlesnake delicacies. Clearly, news of the unfortunate mishap had already spread through Glory.
When Curry finished gorging himself and Heyes was also satiated, they retired to the saloon for their usual two shots of whiskey. They entered the crowded room and made their way to the bar. Leaning against the smooth wooden surface, they listened to the talk of the men next to them as they tossed back the first drink and then ordered their second.
“We’re being watched,” said Curry unnecessarily.
“I know.”
“Think we been recognized?”
“No. We wouldn’t still be walking around town if we had been. It’s only because of what happened to Johnson.”
Just then, a familiar voice was heard over the general noise of the saloon. Both men looked at the mirror instead of turning around, preferring to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Luther Brown was talking to his brother and he’d obviously had a few too many drinks. Gideon Brown was trying to calm him down but his half-hearted attempts had no effect. As Luther’s voice got louder and louder, the saloon became quieter and quieter, until everyone in the room could clearly hear his allegations.
“Them two are strangers hereabouts. Ain’t no way they could find rattlers that long on their own!”
“Luther, you can’t go around accusing people just because they might beat us!” Gideon made another feeble attempt to get his brother to stop talking. “Besides, you don’t have any proof they’re cheating.”
“Don’t need no proof. Know it in here,” Luther replied, jabbing his finger into his chest.
Nods and murmurs of agreement wafted over to Heyes and Curry from some of the tables. Heyes signaled his partner with his eyes that he wanted to stay a bit longer and hear more.
“And another thing,” Luther continued. “How come in all the years he been catching rattlers, Enoch Johnson never got bit, but only a few days after them two arrived, one of them critters up and got him on the finger? That ain’t a coincidence, if you ask me!”
More nods and mumbled agreement came from Luther’s friends, as his assertions found favor with the residents of the town.
“Oh, come on, Luther! That’s just an unfortunate accident! Enoch got a bit careless, is all. He is getting on in years, you know,” Gideon reminded everyone.
Luther wasn’t acceding anything. “I still think they had something to do with it,” he maintained.
“Heard enough?” Curry asked softly.
Heyes nodded and they retreated to their hotel room.
* * *
A knock on the door roused them from their gloom.
“Who is it?” Heyes asked, as Curry took his gun from his holster and cocked it.
“Sheriff Halsey.”
Curry tossed a questioning look to Heyes, who shrugged and opened the door after making sure Curry had put his gun away. “Yes?” Heyes looked beyond the sheriff to the hallway and, not seeing anyone else there, moved aside to allow the other man to enter the room.
“Enoch’s in a bad way. The doc says it’s too soon to tell if he’s going to make it.” Halsey paused. “Thought you’d want to know.”
“Thanks, Sheriff,” Curry said. “Appreciate your stoppin’ by.”
“But that’s not the only reason you’re here, is it, Sheriff?” Heyes shrewdly asked, his eyes searching the lawman’s face.
Halsey half smiled. “No, Mr. Smith, it’s not. I need to ask you boys some questions.”
“Now hold on a minute!” Curry began indignantly. “We didn’t have nothin’ to do with what happened to Johnson.”
“Well, the town’s pretty riled up right now and I need to investigate. You got to admit, it does look suspicious, you two being strangers and taking the lead like that.”
Neither Curry nor Heyes liked the penetrating stare the sheriff gave them as he spoke.
“Now, Sheriff, it was an accident, is all.” Heyes tried to placate him. “Like we told Mr. Morgan when he hired us, we’ve done some trapping before and we’re quick learners. We had nothing to do with it. Johnson could’ve been bit by any snake. It’s our bad luck it just happened to be one of ours.”
“Maybe. And maybe you saw an opportunity and decided to take it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Curry asked angrily.
“It means,” Halsey’s voice hardened, ”I want you two to come to my office so we can straighten this out.”
“Now?” Curry glanced at Heyes, who was as reluctant as he was.
“Now,” the sheriff said firmly. “And bring all your equipment with you, too.”
Continued in Part two...
Tue 04 Mar 2014, 12:05 am by CD Roberts