True Grit - Charles Portis [42]
I said, “Rooster, this Quincy is making a mess out of the turkey. He has got the bones all splintered up with the marrow showing.”
Rooster said, “Do the job right, Quincy. I will have you eating feathers.”
“I don’t know nothing about this kind of work,” said Quincy.
“A man that can skin a beef at night as fast as you can ought to be able to butcher a turkey,” said Rooster.
Moon said, “I got to have me a doctor.”
Quincy said, “Let up on that drinking. It is making you silly.”
LaBoeuf said, “If we don’t separate those two we are not going to get anything. The one has got a hold on the other.”
Rooster said, “Moon is coming around. A young fellow like him don’t want to lose his leg. He is too young to be getting about on a willow peg. He loves dancing and sport.”
“You are trying to get at me,” said Moon.
“I am getting at you with the truth,” said Rooster.
In a few minutes Moon leaned over to whisper a confidence into Quincy’s ear. “None of that,” said Rooster, raising his rifle. “If you have anything on your mind we will all hear it.”
Moon said, “We seen Ned and Haze just two days ago.”
“Don’t act the fool!” said Quincy. “If you blow I will kill you.”
But Moon went on. “I am played out,” said he. “I must have a doctor. I will tell what I know.”
With that, Quincy brought the bowie knife down on Moon’s cuffed hand and chopped off four fingers which flew up before my eyes like chips from a log. Moon screamed and a rifle ball shattered the lantern in front of me and struck Quincy in the neck, causing hot blood to spurt on my face. My thought was: I am better out of this. I tumbled backward from the bench and sought a place of safety on the dirt floor.
Rooster and LaBoeuf sprang to where I lay and when they ascertained that I was not hurt they went to the fallen thieves. Quincy was insensible and dead or dying and Moon was bleeding terribly from his hand and from a mortal puncture in the breast that Quincy gave him before they fell.
“Oh Lord, I am dying!” said he.
Rooster struck a match for light and told me to fetch a pine knot from the fireplace. I found a good long piece and lit it and brought it back, a smoky torch to illuminate a dreadful scene. Rooster removed the handcuff from the poor young man’s wrist.
“Do something! Help me!” were his cries.
“I can do nothing for you, son,” said Rooster. “Your pard has killed you and I have done for him.”
“Don’t leave me laying here. Don’t let the wolves make an end of me.”
“I will see you are buried right, though the ground is hard,” said Rooster. “You must tell me about Ned. Where did you see him?”
“We seen him two days ago at McAlester’s, him and Haze. They are coming here tonight to get remounts and supper. They are robbing the Katy Flyer at Wagoner’s Switch if the snow don’t stop them.”
“There is four of them?”
“They wanted four horses, that is all I know. Ned was Quincy’s friend, not mine. I would not blow on a friend. I was afraid there would be shooting and I would not have a chance bound up like I was. I am bold in a fight.”
Rooster said, “Did you see a man with a black mark on his face?”
“I didn’t see nobody but Ned and Haze. When it comes to a fight I am right there where it is warmest but if I have time to think on it I am not true. Quincy hated all the laws but he was true to his friends.”
“What time did they say they would be here?”
“I looked for them before now. My brother is George Garrett. He is a Methodist circuit rider in south Texas. I want you to sell my traps, Rooster, and send the money to him in care of the district superintendent in Austin. The dun horse is mine, I paid for him. We got them others last night at Mr. Burlingame’s.”
I said, “Do you want us to tell your brother what happened to you?”
He said, “It don’t matter about that. He knows I am on the scout. I will meet him later walking the streets of Glory.”
Rooster said, “Don’t be looking for Quincy.”
“Quincy was always square with me,” said Moon. “He never played me false until he killed me. Let me have a drink of cold water.”
LaBoeuf