Pray for Death

by William W. Johnstone; J. A. Johnstone

  When Ellie Brant complained to her husband that Cobb took the ax without paying for it, he told her he was satisfied they had gotten off that cheap. “If we don’t see those outlaws again, it was well worth the price.”

  It was the same for the four searchers at each place they stopped. There was no sign of Will Tanner and no one could tell them where he might have gone. Ted Murdock continued to watch their progress from the window of his barbershop, alarmed to see they were coming back his way. He had hoped they would not call on him, but it looked like he was not going to avoid their visit. All four walked in. “You the barber?” Jace demanded.

  “Yes, sir,” Murdock replied, his voice cracking with apprehension. “What can I do for you gentlemen? Haircuts, shaves?”

  “Where’s Will Tanner?” Jace blurted, with no patience for beating around the bush.

  “Deputy Tanner?” Murdock fumbled. “Why, I have no idea. He hasn’t been in here. Did you try over at the jail?”

  “What’s in that building behind this place?” Cobb asked, ignoring the question.

  “Why, nothin’ much,” Murdock stammered. “It’s my livin’ quarters and a place where I do a little extra business sometimes.”

  “Let’s have a look at it,” Cobb said. “Whaddaya mean by ‘a little extra business’? What kinda business?” Murdock could feel his throat going dry, unable to mask his fear, and Cobb sensed it. Whatever the reason, he knew the barber didn’t want them to see inside that building. He fixed Murdock with a steely gaze. “What kinda business?” he repeated, this time with a threat in his tone.

  “Mortuary,” Murdock forced out. “I’m a mortician.”

  “He’s a what?” Ben Cassady asked. “What the hell is that?”

  “He’s the undertaker,” Marley White explained with a chuckle. “He cuts their throats in the barbershop, then buries ’em.”

  And the perfect place to hide a lawman who didn’t want to be found, Cobb thought at once. “Let’s go see your place,” he said to Murdock.

  “If you’ve got some kinda idea that Will Tanner is hidin’ in my shop out back, I can assure you he’s certainly not there.”

  His reluctance was enough to make Cobb feel he had hit upon a real possibility of finding the missing lawman. He dropped his hand to rest on his .44 and ordered, “We’ll take a look in that place right now.”

  With no way out, Murdock said, “Yes, sir,” and led them out the back door of the barbershop. He unlocked the door of his morgue and stood aside while they cautiously went inside.

  “Ain’t nobody in here,” Jace called out, standing in the middle of the room, looking around him at the stove and cot in the front of the room. Then he noticed the table in the rear of the room and what looked to be a body on it. It was covered with a white canvas sheet. “On the other hand,” he called out again, “maybe there is.” It occurred to him that it was a possibility the man they searched for might have hidden under the sheet, hoping they’d think it was a body. Alerted by his second statement, Cobb and the others came into the room, all with pistols drawn. Jace nodded toward the body on the table.

  “That ain’t Tanner on the table, there,” Murdock was quick to assure them, fully alarmed now when they seemed intent upon seeing for themselves.

  “Is that so?” Cobb responded. “Then there ain’t nothin’ to worry about, is there?” All four outlaws gathered around the table, their weapons cocked and aimed at the body. When Cobb nodded to him, Jace grabbed a corner of the canvas and jerked it off the table. All four stood, stunned and speechless, for a long moment, staring at the corpse of Archie Todd.

  The silent void was broken then by Marley. “Well, I’ll be a . . . it’s Archie,” he said, almost in a whisper. He and his partners turned at once toward Murdock, their guns pointed at the terrified barber-undertaker as if set to punish him for the death of their partner.

  “Wait! Wait!” Murdock cried out, holding his hands up before him as if to protect himself from their guns. “It wasn’t me that killed him. I’m just tryin’ to prepare him for a decent burial. I swear, I had nothin’ to do with his death. Will Tanner’s the man you’re lookin’ for, and I don’t have any idea where he is.”

  There was another silent impasse then as the four outlaws continued to stare at Archie’s body. “Where’s his stuff?” Cobb asked. “His money and his weapons, where are they?”

  “The deputy’s got ’em, I reckon,” Murdock lied, hoping they didn’t start to search for them, for they would not be hard to find.

  Finally, Cobb decided they were just wasting their time there. “Cover him back up,” he said, and Marley and Ben picked up the canvas sheet to spread over the corpse, much to Murdock’s relief. When Archie was covered, Cobb turned his weapon upon the surprised undertaker and fired two shots into his midsection. The execution startled his fellow gang members as well as the unfortunate victim. “He’s a lyin’ lowlife,” Cobb explained, turned, and walked out of the shop.

  Jace looked at Marley and Ben, shrugged and said, “Reckon Cobb figures it’s time somebody in this damn town started payin’ for the trouble that deputy’s started.”

  They followed him out of the shop to find him standing beside his horse, holding the ax he had taken from Brant’s store. He looked at Jace and said, “I’m tired of searchin’ this damn town for Will Tanner. It’s plain to see he’s cut and run, so I’m thinkin’ to hell with him, I’m ready to bust Hawkins outta that jail.”

  CHAPTER 11

  He heard the shots, but he was not sure where they had come from. Whatever the cause, it had come from one of the stores on the street. He had been in the telegraph office for about an hour now, first sending a telegram to Dan Stone in Fort Smith advising him of the situation in Atoka. With the arrival of new gang members, he had advised Stone of a need for additional deputies. After that wire was sent, the rest of the time was spent waiting for a reply from Stone, and for some reason, it was long in coming. Will could only imagine why. Probably, he figured, Stone was trying to call in the extra help. Jim Little Eagle had come to find him earlier to tell him he had been contacted by Sam Black Crow, who asked for his help in Muskogee. He said Sam’s messenger, a young Creek boy, who was waiting outside, told him Sam needed help arresting a gang of Creek cattle rustlers. Will had told him to go ahead, everything seemed peaceful in town. Unaware of the arrival of Cobb and his men, since the railway station was about a hundred yards from the main street, he sat and passed the time talking to Sam Barnet.

  Alert now, after hearing the shots, he ran out of the telegraph office in time to see the four riders pull up before the door of his jail. There was no mistaking their identity, for he easily recognized the one riding the red roan and the thin man wearing the derby hat. Without thinking, he cranked a cartridge into the chamber of his rifle as he made his way along the side of the telegraph office to the two barrels on the platform. Using them for cover, as he had the night before, he knelt on one knee and waited to see if they really planned to break into the jail.

  “Let me take a lick at it,” Ben said, and Cobb handed him the ax. Of the four, Ben was the biggest and proud of his strength. He walked up before the door, spit on his hands, and took a solid stance. Then he attacked the door with a mighty swing of the ax. The blade buried deeply in the solid oak, forcing him to strain hard to rock it back and forth in an effort to loosen it for a second blow. Winding up for another mighty swing, he landed another blow to the stubborn door. He grunted then, and to the other three’s surprise, dropped to his knees and slowly keeled over on his side. Only then did Cobb notice the bullet hole in the back of Ben’s coat. Realizing then what had just happened, Cobb yelled, “Get down!” It was too late for Marley, as a second shot from Will’s rifle dropped him before he could react. He had not heard the first shot because the sound of it came at exactly the same time Ben’s ax struck the door.

  Realizing then where the shots were coming from, Cobb and Jace scrambled under the horses, trying to use them for protection. �
�Get behind the buildin’!” Cobb exclaimed, and grabbed the reins of all four horses. Using them for cover, he and Jace ran to the back of the jail, leading the horses. Once they reached the protection of the building, they pulled their rifles out of the saddle slings and prepared to defend themselves.

  “Where the hell did that come from?” Jace blurted, still uncertain.

  “The telegraph shack,” Cobb replied. “The bushwhacker has been waitin’ for us to show up here.”

  “Whadda we gonna do?” Jace exclaimed.

  “We gotta see where he’s shootin’ from,” Cobb told him. “Take your rifle and go to the other corner. I’ll try to get a shot from this corner. Maybe he’ll come outta his hidin’ place.”

  Jace did as he was told and crawled up to the left-rear corner. He eased his rifle out past the back of the jail and jerked it back immediately when a shot from Will’s rifle knocked a chunk of wood out of the corner post. “Damn!” Jace shouted. “I can’t get out far enough to shoot without catchin’ a bullet.”

  “Maybe I’ll get a shot,” Cobb said. Since he was at the right-rear corner, he didn’t have to expose his body as much. So he eased his rifle around the corner, then slowly stuck his head around just enough to see with one eye beyond the front of the jail. He was immediately greeted with a rifle shot that struck the siding right beside his head. He jerked his head back and dragged his rifle back beside him, knowing he had escaped death by no more than a couple of inches. “Damn,” he swore, realizing there was no way he and Jace could return fire without exposing themselves. The deputy was too accurate with that rifle. Aware now of noise coming from the inside of the jail, he let it register in his confusion. It was Hawkins and Tiny yelling from their cell room, trying to find out what was going on. “We can’t do nothin’ right now,” he yelled back to them. “He’s got us pinned down.” He looked over at Jace, who was staring, wide-eyed, waiting to be told what to do. “We ain’t got no choice,” he said to him. “We’ve got to get outta here. We’ll ride straight away from here. Keep the jail between us and that platform he’s shootin’ from. You take the reins of Marley’s horse. I’ll grab Ben’s. Ride like hell.”

  “What about Ben and Marley?” Jace asked. “What if they ain’t dead?”

  “Ain’t nothin’ I can do about them,” Cobb said. “If you wanna go back around the front of this buildin’ to see, go right ahead.” He got up from his position on the ground and stepped up into the saddle. He paused long enough to yell to those locked up inside, “He’s got us treed, Ward. Ain’t no way we can get to you right now. We’ll figure some way to get you later. We’re gone!” He didn’t wait for a reply and, giving the roan a kick, he was off at a gallop. Jace followed close behind him, lying low on his horse’s neck, leading Marley’s horse, unable to hear the cries of distress and frustration coming from inside the jail.

  In his position behind the barrels on the railroad platform, Will could not see them leave until they were far enough away to come into view. By then, they were already nearing the reasonable limit of the Winchester’s range. He took a couple of shots, anyway, but to no success. He stood up from behind the barrels and gazed at the rapidly disappearing horses as they galloped away to the south. He could not give chase for the simple reason he had no horse. He had not saddled Buster. The big buckskin was still in the stable and there was the matter of the shots he had heard when he was in the telegraph office. When that thought occurred, he looked toward the cluster of businesses that made up the main street. There were some people gathering in front of the barbershop, so he decided he should check on that before thinking of going after the two who escaped. They had run toward the south, but he figured they would ultimately circle back to return to Boggy Town, which was northeast of Atoka. Almost as an afterthought, he reminded himself that he had just shot two of the four outlaws, so he jumped down from the platform and moved quickly to the jail.

  Both victims were lying, unmoving, in front of the jail. The heavy ax was still embedded in the middle of the oak door. A quick check told him that both men were dead, so he left them for the time being and ran to the barbershop. Tom Brant saw him coming and walked out to meet him. “It’s Murdock,” he said. “They shot him—twice, it looks like—he’s dead. Then we heard all the shootin’ at the jail and was afraid they’d killed you, too.”

  Will went in the barbershop to find the back door open, so he went on through to Murdock’s room behind. There he found a couple of men looking over the scene of the shooting. One of them was Stanley Coons. Murdock’s body was lying on the floor and the body of Archie Todd was on the table. Stanley looked at Will and said, “I reckon you’re gonna need your horse. I’ll help you saddle up.”

  “’Preciate it,” Will replied, and turned to follow Stanley outside.

  “Wonder who we’re supposed to call to take care of the bodies now?” Stanley asked. “Doc? Murdock ain’t got no family.”

  “Maybe so,” Will answered. “Maybe some of the other merchants can help out.” There were two more in front of the jail to bury. They were his responsibility to take care of, since he had killed them. Murdock had already been paid to bury the one still lying on his table. Until the occasion of a new undertaker, Doc Lowell would seem the most qualified to perform that service. Will could well imagine the old grouch’s response to the suggestion.

  Back out on the street, Will was stopped by Tom Brant again. “That gang was in my store, and they walked out with an ax and never paid for it. Did you see it over there at the jail?”

  “Yeah,” Will answered, “I saw it. You can walk over and pick it up. You can’t miss it.” He started after Stanley again, who was already striding toward the stables, intent upon helping Will get after the two outlaws as soon as possible.

  With all that had happened in less than an hour’s time after Cobb and his men had called upon Ted Murdock, the one group of men who were left in the dark were the five prisoners in the jailhouse. Hearing the snap of bullets slapping the corners of the room that confined them, they could only speculate on what was happening. But when they heard the hurried declaration of retreat from Luke Cobb, seconds before he and Jace galloped away, it sent Hawkins into a rant of irate cursing. Confident to the point of smugness only hours before, he bellowed out his rage at the thought that he was now trapped in this jail. “It ain’t lookin’ too good for us right now, is it?” Tiny McGee declared. Hawkins was too furious to answer him.

  “He said they was gonna try to get us out later,” Harley offered. Hawkins glared at him as if irate that he should even think it.

  “I reckon that deputy will be goin’ after ’em now,” Pete Jessup offered. “I hope to hell he don’t forget to get us our supper.” His remark sent Hawkins into a deeper fit of anger, and the deep frown he aimed at him sent Pete to retreat to a corner beside Ernie Pratt. A cloud of silence hovered over the crowded cell room after that.

  * * *

  Once again, Will found himself on the trail along Muddy Boggy Creek. He realized that the two men he hunted now might not have returned to the outlaw hideout called Mama’s Kitchen, but he felt strongly that they would. He would have appreciated Jim Little Eagle’s help in an attempt to capture the two remaining outlaws. He was not sure, however, that there would be a possibility to arrest them. It was a lot more likely that this would be a kill-or-be-killed situation. These two were well aware that the crimes they had committed were hanging offenses, so there was not likely to be a surrender. It was time wasted even to think of that possibility, for he was convinced they would take any opportunity to shoot him. As he rode the three-plus miles to Boggy Town, he tried to decide the best plan to attack. The two he was after were proven killers, but he was uncertain about the others still at the hideout. What would be the reaction of the bartender and the hired hand who took care of the outside work and the horses? Then there were the two women, both hardened to life on the wrong side of the law. Would they join in the fight or stand aside to watch? The uncertainty was whether
his fight was to be with two, four, or six. Damn, he thought, I could sure use Jim Little Eagle.

  As he neared the hideout, he decided to cross the creek and approach it as he had done before, from the back. By the time he reached the place in the trail where he was to leave it and cross over to the other side, he had decided his mission was simply to take any shot he was presented with, playing the role of an assassin. Trying to make an arrest at all costs was a noble goal, but in this case was a foolish endeavor. He reminded himself that they had blatantly shot Ted Murdock down.

  * * *

  Inside Mama’s Kitchen, Bud, Teddy, and the two women were once again interested bystanders watching another desperate drama unfold. Cobb and Jace had ridden into the yard only minutes before, leading the horses that Marley and Ben had ridden into town a few hours earlier. When Teddy asked what happened to the two missing men, Cobb replied in anger. “The piece of dirt was waitin’ for us. That’s what happened,” he complained.

  “Did he kill Ben and Marley?” Etta asked.

  “Do you see Ben and Marley?” Cobb replied sarcastically as he checked his Colt to make sure it was fully loaded. “Teddy, get out there on the porch and keep your eyes peeled. Sing out if you see anybody.”

  “You think he’s comin’ after you?” Bud asked, thinking there might be the possibility Will Tanner might come to shoot the place to pieces.

  “We ain’t takin’ no chances,” Jace answered. “I expect he might.” He turned to Cobb. “Whaddaya wanna do, Cobb? You think he’s fool enough to come walkin’ in here to arrest us?”