And from different range.”

“You pretty fast?” I said.

He smiled. “You can try me, you want.”

“How much they payin’ you here?”

“That’s none a’ your business.” 

“Reason I ask, if you’re really good with a hand gun, I might have a use for you.”

He seemed surprised. “You’d take me with you?”

“Far as Springfield, anyway.”

He looked around. Then, in a quiet voice he said, “How much you payin’?”

“You got a good horse?”

“Damn good horse.”

“Any good with a rifle?”

He paused. “Not like you.”

“You own one?”

He looked down. “Naw.”

I nodded. “That’s okay. Ten dollars.”

“Ten dollars for two days work?”

“That’s right. Ever been to Springfield?”

“Naw.”

“It’s a big town. Lotta bars. Bouncin’ pays a dollar a day, free room and board. Wanna make more, try minin’ in Colorado, or pannin’ gold out west.”

“What about hired gun work?”

“No offense, son, but you’re not ready.”

“You ain’t seen me slap leather.”

“True. But we been standin’ here almost five minutes and you still ain’t seen the derringer in my left hand.”

He looked at the gun, but didn’t twitch ’til I cocked it. A light bead of sweat formed on his upper lip.

“What kind of pansy-assed shootist carries a derringer?” he said.

“A live one.”

He swallowed before speakin’. But he did speak.

“You know the job you was talkin’ about just now?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll take it.”

I nodded. “Good choice. What’s your name, son?”

“Ira Glass.”

“I’ll be in touch, then, Mr. Glass.”

He stood aside and let me pass.

 


 

 

 

7.

 

“What’s it like,” Scarlett said. “Really.”

When Billy Shingles found he couldn’t keep me from talkin’ to his whores, he asked if I’d pay for an hour of their time. That seemed a fair request, so I gave him six dollars, and he let me talk to Scarlett and two others in Scarlett’s bedroom. Billy knew he had no legal right to force the women to work for him, but he wasn’t above tryin’. ’Course, Billy knew he had a gold mine in Rolla, this bein’ the drop off point for every unmarried woman headin’ west by railroad. So what if he lost a few girls every now and then? He’d still have an endless supply of new ones to take their place.

“There’s five levels of whorin’ out west,” I said, answering Scarlett’s question. “You don’t need to worry about the top one.”

“Why not?” said Gentry.

They were all sittin’ on the bed. Gentry was slim of body, and wide-faced, with wide-set green eyes and long brown hair. Her face was littered with pimples, and scars from pimples that had come and gone. She could pass for twenty-two, but I figured her closer to eighteen.