Slaughter of Eagles by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2010-09-25T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Phoenix

The very first thing Ben Hanlon did when he left the bank with money in his pocket, was buy himself a new change of clothes. After that he went to the bathhouse and bought himself a bath. When he was clean, really clean for the first time in a very long time he went to the Boar’s Head Saloon.

As he stepped inside he stood there for a moment, looking around, savoring actually, the fact that he was in a saloon, and he actually had money in his pocket. A piano stood at the back of the room, but there was no one playing it. Because it was early afternoon, the saloon wasn’t very crowded.

There were three bar girls, but they were together in a cluster at the far end of the bar, talking among themselves. There were only four others in the saloon, the bartender, and three men who were sitting at a table.

Hanlon stepped up to the bar, then pulled out a ten dollar banknote and slapped it down. “Barkeep, I would like to buy a drink for everyone in the house,” he said.

“The girls too?” the bartender asked.

Hanlon looked down at the three girls, and smiled. “Especially the girls,” he said.

“Thank you, mister,” one of the girls said.

“Ben,” Hanlon said. “The name is Ben.”

“Maxine,” the bartender said, handing one of the girls a bottle. Go refill the drinks of the gentlemen at the table.”

“All right, Wally,” the girl said. She flashed a wide smile at Hanlon. “But don’t you go away, Ben. I’ll be right back.”

“I’m not going anywhere, darlin’,” Ben replied.

The bartender looked at Hanlon. “And what would you like?”

“You got any Champagne?” Hanlon asked.

Wally laughed. “Champagne? This is Phoenix, not San Francisco. We’ve got beer and whiskey.”

“Then that is what I will have.”

“Which? Beer or whiskey?”

“I’ll have beer and whiskey,” he said.

The barkeep put both drinks in front of him, and Hanlon tossed the whiskey down, then chased it with the beer.

Within a very short time, Ben Hanlon was drunk. It wasn’t just that he couldn’t handle his liquor, which was true, or that it had been over a year since he had last had a drink, which was also true. It was because he was trying to make up in one night for the dry spell that had lasted for so long. He was in the Boar’s Head Saloon, spending the money so freely the soiled doves gathered around him were being rewarded by having bills stuffed in the tops of their low-cut dresses.

“Old-timer,” Wally said after pouring another drink for Hanlon. “I’m happy to take your money as long as you want to spend it, but don’t you think you ought to slow down a bit?”

“Don’t you be a’ worryin’ none ’bout me, sonny,” Hanlon replied. “I got money all right. I got me more money than you ever seen before.”

Hanlon took out his little leather pouch and poured out a few gold nuggets. “You see this here? Just one of these nuggets would pay for ever’thing I done spent in this here saloon so far tonight.

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