Many theories have risen about these two famous men of the Old West and here I explore one of them.
"That Pat Garrett done gone and shot him down." The old timer spat at the ground, as he looked forlornly at the wanted poster.
"Shucks the boy just was getting back at all those robber barons and seems like him and old Pat had a lot things between them.
If they only knew what those things were thought the stranger, but he did not speak. Two weeks of growth on his face hide the healed over scar rather well.
"Well that Kid twern't nothing but a wild one and I reckon Pat give him his due." The woman spat back at the old timer.
"Some fool gal is liable to be putting flowers on his grave every day."
She commented as the young beauty riding the Pinto stared at her as the horse nickered to stop. Something in the man's eyes made the rider put her hand to her mouth. The stranger put his finger to his lips and bade her be quiet. The money in his saddlebags was itching to be put where it could be kept safe. He looked over at the poster and noticed that it had fallen off the wooden sidewalk close to the sheriff's office.
Pat Garrett twirled his moustache and wondered if the stranger would head on over to the bank. Yes the reward money had helped him buy a new saddle for his favorite horse. He was glad that the coroner had not asked too many questions about the man that they had nailed in the coffin. He and Billy had indeed gone way back, as far back as the days when they were the riders and folks had called them the Young Guns.
Oh Billy was a wild one alright and when he had gunned down one man just for the hell of it, Pat had taken a lot of slack. Folks were talking about him before The Kid was shot and now they talked about him, but they just did not do it where he could hear it. If they only knew but then the plan had come together so neatly. Reward money was often split between cowboys and sheriffs. It had been such a stroke of luck that the fool boy from the next state had ridden in.
"The little whelp was full of piss and vinegar when he shot at me Pat, too bad it only grazed my skull and cheek. You said you had my back and well I am glad oh buddy you had it that day." Billy and Pat got the idea at the same time to take the body of the hapless would be gunslinger and claim it was Billy the Kid. The fool boy looked close enough like him to be his twin. And besides Billy had grown bored with the outlaw business and there was that pretty young lady in town he was sweet on. So the perfect plan came about, he and Pat would share the reward. Billy would take his share and put in the bank of all places and Pat would see to it, that the bank was protected until Billy could go across the state line and buy a farm.
No one would know, and no one would be the wiser. Because then a lawman's word was right. There was no DNA and no nosy coroner to mess up the perfect plan. As he strode past him only two men heard the words. "Evening Pat how is it going?"
"Evening Billy, I see Miss Sally got her eyes on you, and Billy make this one good."
"I will Pat and from now on, I am William."
"Gotcha."
Short story by Judy T Lloyd
Read 1125 times
Written on 2006-09-18 at 02:50
Tags Fiction Western History
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Billy and Pat
It never seemed quite right somehow to the stranger that rode into the dusty town. Folks everywhere were talking about the latest news about Billy The Kid."That Pat Garrett done gone and shot him down." The old timer spat at the ground, as he looked forlornly at the wanted poster.
"Shucks the boy just was getting back at all those robber barons and seems like him and old Pat had a lot things between them.
If they only knew what those things were thought the stranger, but he did not speak. Two weeks of growth on his face hide the healed over scar rather well.
"Well that Kid twern't nothing but a wild one and I reckon Pat give him his due." The woman spat back at the old timer.
"Some fool gal is liable to be putting flowers on his grave every day."
She commented as the young beauty riding the Pinto stared at her as the horse nickered to stop. Something in the man's eyes made the rider put her hand to her mouth. The stranger put his finger to his lips and bade her be quiet. The money in his saddlebags was itching to be put where it could be kept safe. He looked over at the poster and noticed that it had fallen off the wooden sidewalk close to the sheriff's office.
Pat Garrett twirled his moustache and wondered if the stranger would head on over to the bank. Yes the reward money had helped him buy a new saddle for his favorite horse. He was glad that the coroner had not asked too many questions about the man that they had nailed in the coffin. He and Billy had indeed gone way back, as far back as the days when they were the riders and folks had called them the Young Guns.
Oh Billy was a wild one alright and when he had gunned down one man just for the hell of it, Pat had taken a lot of slack. Folks were talking about him before The Kid was shot and now they talked about him, but they just did not do it where he could hear it. If they only knew but then the plan had come together so neatly. Reward money was often split between cowboys and sheriffs. It had been such a stroke of luck that the fool boy from the next state had ridden in.
"The little whelp was full of piss and vinegar when he shot at me Pat, too bad it only grazed my skull and cheek. You said you had my back and well I am glad oh buddy you had it that day." Billy and Pat got the idea at the same time to take the body of the hapless would be gunslinger and claim it was Billy the Kid. The fool boy looked close enough like him to be his twin. And besides Billy had grown bored with the outlaw business and there was that pretty young lady in town he was sweet on. So the perfect plan came about, he and Pat would share the reward. Billy would take his share and put in the bank of all places and Pat would see to it, that the bank was protected until Billy could go across the state line and buy a farm.
No one would know, and no one would be the wiser. Because then a lawman's word was right. There was no DNA and no nosy coroner to mess up the perfect plan. As he strode past him only two men heard the words. "Evening Pat how is it going?"
"Evening Billy, I see Miss Sally got her eyes on you, and Billy make this one good."
"I will Pat and from now on, I am William."
"Gotcha."
Short story by Judy T Lloyd
Read 1125 times
Written on 2006-09-18 at 02:50
Tags Fiction Western History
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text|
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