Coach v. Cobbler

With time to collect his thoughts and play back the events that led to the death of the Clown, the Coach grows more baffled. He doesn't sleep that night, but thinks back to the garden, the puff of white gardenia, the long and difficult task of dragging the Clown's body back to the grounds, and - most baffling of all - the caretaker's unexpected celebrity among the hotel's female guests.

It strikes the Coach suddenly - very early in the morning - that the Clown's death was unnecessary. That there was never an attempt to bring the him back to the dueling ground by reason, or force. There only a shot, a puff of white gardenia, and instant death.

There are unspoken rules to any duel, obviously, but what severe punishment!

And it wasn't as if the Clown had lied, either; he had been expected. The Coach stood over Pepple as he methodically searched every pocket of the Clown's white linen suit. He saw him take a fine ivory envelope from an inside pocket, open the envelope, and expose a simple, handwritten invitation. The letterhead wasn't in print; instead it showed a detailed engraving of the hotel's unmistakable facade. The text of the invitation - done in twisting and self-meeting calligraphic script - was too stylized to read quickly; Pepple returned it to its envelope almost immediately, then tucked it into the torn front pocket of his plaid shirt.

The Coach wishes he'd spoken then. He hadn't, not knowing what to say to a man who, an hour before, had shot a clown dead. He thinks he may now. He thinks on this until daybreak. Twice he makes to the hideous shack to the north. Twice he returns to the oak. Soon it's midmorning. Soon the Cobbler arrives.

The Cobbler's a pudgy little man. He wears a corduroy frock-coat, and over his lip a push broom mustache. A life of service has touched his voice with constant tremor, his gestures with obsequious delicacy. He arrives and introduces himself.

The Coach had expected someone more intimidating. What did he expect to do, he asks himself, looking over at the hideous shack. That another man and I might confront the caretaker? Demand an explanation?

They raise their guns, their guns go off.