Pray for Death

by William W. Johnstone; J. A. Johnstone

  “No, we don’t. They headed for the stables, I reckon,” Ed offered.

  “I reckon you’re most likely right,” Will agreed, thinking it was too obvious to even ask. That was where their horses were. “Did you hear any shots down that way after they left here?” Ed said that they did not. Will was worried about Stanley Coons—he wasn’t cut out to face up to men like Ward Hawkins and Tiny McGee. “We’d best get over there and see if Stanley’s all right.”

  “I ain’t got no weapons,” Ed said. “They took mine with ’em.”

  “Look on that packhorse there,” Will told him, “and pick out whatever you need.”

  After all that had been said about the jailbreak, a question just then occurred to Ed. “Where were you, anyway?”

  “I was busy down in Boggy Town,” Will said. “Let’s go see if Stanley’s all right.” The three of them walked up the street toward the stables. Will led Buster and the packhorse, planning to leave it with Stanley.

  There was no evidence of Stanley, but due to the lateness of the hour, he didn’t expect to find him still working. His real concern was that he hoped he would not find his body. There were a lot fewer horses in the corral and none in the stalls, which was a bad sign, so they lit a lantern and started a search of the stable. They found Stanley in one of the back stalls. Luckily, he was alive, not hurt, but tied up securely. “Will!” he exclaimed when he saw who it was. “Man, am I glad to see you!” He struggled to flip his body around to face them. “I hollered my head off for about an hour, but nobody could hear me back here in this stall. So I finally just quit when my throat started gettin’ hoarse.”

  “Are you all right?” Will asked as he untied the knots holding Stanley’s hands and ankles. “They trussed you up pretty good. Any injuries?”

  “No, I didn’t try to put up a fight. They were a pretty rough-lookin’ bunch and there were five of ’em, so I didn’t see much sense in gettin’ myself shot. They were in a hurry to get outta here, I reckon. So they just tied me up, got their horses and saddles—and anything else they fancied—then took off. They stole four horses and saddles from the tack room. One of ’em belongs to Doug Mabry—he ain’t gonna like that.”

  Will and Ed helped him to his feet. “Did you hear ’em say anything about where they were goin’ or what they were gonna do?” Will asked. “I noticed they didn’t bother to take the wagon.” He could understand why the two men who had delivered the load of “molasses” had no desire to be slowed down driving a heavy freight wagon.

  “Like I said, they took horses and saddles, but left the wagon. I heard two of ’em talkin’ when they came back to the tack room for something. I couldn’t hear everything they said, just caught a few words. There was something about goin’ to some camp somewhere, sounded like they called it The Falls, or something like that. Sorry I didn’t hear much more,” he said. Then after a short pause, he added, “The one he was talkin’ to said they should go back and get some money.”

  That was enough to give Will a place to start. He remembered a hideout in the Arbuckle Mountains he had found on his first job as a deputy marshal. He would never forget the cabin near the bottom of a seventy-foot waterfall, because it was the place where Fletcher Pride was killed. He was the man who persuaded him to join the Marshals Service. Outlaws had a name for that camp. They called it The Falls. Not only Pride lost his life in that place. His cook, Charlie Tate, was killed as well. It figured that the five outlaws might head for that hideout, and they would have no reason to believe he knew of its existence. The other remark Stanley mentioned, about their need to get some money, was of interest to him as well. There just might be a chance that Hawkins would risk a visit to Boggy Town before he ran to the mountains. When Will had arrested Hawkins and Tiny, Teddy Green had saddled their horses, but there were no saddlebags out there on the porch with the other gear. Hawkins might want his saddlebags and personal belongings bad enough to go to Mama’s Kitchen first. The one thing that refuted that idea, however, was the time frame. If Hawkins had gone straight to Boggy Town after they left the stable, they would have arrived there while he was still there. The hour was late when he left Boggy Town. Had they waited for some reason, he might have met them on the trail from town. He couldn’t let go of the idea, however. If they were heading for The Falls, they needed supplies and the only place to get them right away was Boggy Town. Hawkins would think that Cobb and Jace were still there. He decided that was going to be his first call. He told Ed and Horace what he had in mind. They talked it over for only a few minutes before Ed agreed that it was worth a try, thinking Hawkins and the others might still be there. “There is one more problem,” Will said. He looked at Horace and shook his head. “If we’re gonna try to catch up with those outlaws, it ain’t gonna be easy with a wagon. So I expect we’d best leave it up to you to decide if you wanna jump on a horse and go with us and leave the jail wagon here. You don’t have any obligation to join in a posse.”

  Horace stopped him right there. “I ain’t nothin’ but the cook, right? Well, I’m goin’ with you, anyway. You’re gonna need all the help you can get to go after five of ’em.”

  * * *

  Bud Tilton paused and turned to exchange glances with Ida Simpson when he heard horses approaching the front porch. “Damn, they’ve come back,” he muttered, and quickly put the whiskey bottle back under the bar where it had been hidden before.

  Alarmed as well, Ida alerted Etta and Teddy. “They’re back! Hide them glasses. They find out we had another bottle hid, they ain’t gonna be too happy about it.” Their celebration had continued on after Hawkins and Tiny had left them. It was going to be hard to explain why they were still celebrating. The four of them stood silently watching the front door then until Will walked in, followed by Ed and Horace. “Damn,” Ida swore, “we thought that was Tiny and Hawkins comin’ back.” She held her sigh of relief, however, not sure if the deputy’s return was good news or bad.

  “They were here?” Will asked at once.

  “Yeah, they were here,” Teddy spoke up, “’bout an hour ago. They loaded up a couple of packhorses with half our supplies and lit out.”

  “All five of ’em?” Will asked. Teddy said no one but Tiny and Hawkins showed up.

  “Well, you were right,” Ed said. “Too bad we couldn’ta got here sooner.” He turned to Ida then. “Did they say where they were headin’?” She started to answer but hesitated. She didn’t know Ed as well as she had come to know Will. She knew only that he was a deputy marshal and she was suddenly reluctant to give out information to the law about her former employer. Too long a prostitute working with outlaws, she was troubled by a sense of loyalty.

  Etta, however, was not troubled by such nonsense. As far as she was concerned, the outlaw code flew out the window when Tiny and Hawkins discarded the four of them without so much as a fare-thee-well. She saw that Ida didn’t want to reveal Tiny’s plans, so she volunteered. “They told us they weren’t takin’ us with ’em because they’re goin’ to some place in the mountains, called The Falls.” As soon as she said it, she had a second thought and added, “I’d just as soon you didn’t tell anybody I told you that. I don’t particularly want a reputation as the person who spilled the beans on Ward Hawkins and caused him to get arrested—if you do arrest him.”

  Will couldn’t suppress a smile for the feisty old woman. “No need to worry about that. Fellow that owns the stables in town heard ’em mention The Falls. He turned to Ed then. “We’ve got some decidin’ to do. Looks like they’ve only got an hour’s head start on us, but we’re gonna have to pick up their trail. They didn’t head back toward the road to McAlester ’cause we woulda run right into ’em. So they took off in some direction west, but we ain’t got much chance of findin’ their trail in the middle of the night. We might as well make camp for the night and wait for daylight.”

  Ed was in agreement, since the night was already half-gone. “It wouldn’t hurt to rest our horses up, too,” he said.

&
nbsp; “Hell,” Etta blurted, “you boys can stay right here. We got an empty bunkhouse wing on the back, and we’ll fix you somethin’ to eat.” She looked around at her partners and saw nothing but grins. “You’ll be the first customers in the Boggy Town Hotel, and we won’t charge you nothin’ for the night. That all right, partners?” The other three gave their nods of approval immediately.

  “I reckon that’ll be hard to pass up,” Ed responded. “Ain’t that what you say, Will?”

  “Yep,” Will answered. “We thank you for the offer. It does feel kinda funny, though. We ain’t exactly the kind of customers Tiny and Hawkins built this place for.”

  “Maybe we oughta call this place the Hotel Reform,” Teddy offered, “on account we’ve all reformed to change our old ways.”

  Teddy’s suggestion brought a chuckle from all of them and caused Will to silently hope they could somehow make a success of their business, even though he didn’t see much chance of it. Now that it was settled, the two lawmen and Horace Watson brought their personal gear into the bunkhouse, then took care of the horses with Teddy’s help. Etta offered to make breakfast for them, but Will said they would leave before breakfast and stop to eat when they rested the horses. She insisted on frying up some ham and corn cakes for them to eat before they went to bed, an offer they found hard to refuse.

  * * *

  Will was up at first light the next morning and was down at the corral saddling the horses when Ed and Horace came out to help. They attempted to get the packhorses loaded and ready to ride without disturbing their hosts, who were trying to recover from the late night of celebrating. They were joined by Etta Grise, however, who came out the kitchen door to see them off. Walking past the two cold corpses of Cobb and Jace, she came out to wish them luck. Going up to Will’s stirrup, she said, “You be careful, Will Tanner.” She paused, then added, “I never thought I’d be sayin’ that to a lawman.” Before she turned to go back to the kitchen, she said one more thing. “I found that money you left on the kitchen table.”

  “That was just a little something toward the room rent and the supper last night,” he said, then gave Buster a gentle nudge and started down the creek. He knew by the smile she gave him that the gesture pleased her. It might not have meant as much if she had known that it was money he had taken from the two drivers who had delivered the “molasses.” What the hell, he said to himself, it’s the thought that counts.

  * * *

  Although Will was sure the outlaws were going to the hideout known as The Falls, he preferred to follow their trail in case they went someplace else. With Ed in agreement, they decided to split up, with Ed and Horace searching the commonly used trail that followed Muddy Boggy Creek, while Will led a packhorse along the bank of the creek. The hope was to find tracks that were fairly fresh. Knowing Hawkins had to strike a heading due west, if he was going to the Arbuckles, Will crossed over to the other side of the creek. He knew the two outlaws had to cross Muddy Boggy at some point, so he watched for tracks entering or leaving the water. He had not gone far before he found what he was looking for when he crossed a wide gap in the trees lining the creek. The ground in the gap was not covered with leaves and limbs, like the biggest part of the creek bank. Several distinct prints were evident, suggesting the two outlaws had approached the saloon from behind it on this side of the creek. But he saw no prints heading in the opposite direction, so they must have come back on the other side of the creek. To go west, they had to have crossed back to the side he was searching at some point.

  They had to cross somewhere, he thought, so if I keep going along this creek, I’ll find where they came out of the water, and we’ll have a trail to follow. He continued on along the bank for less than a quarter of a mile when he reached the clear tracks of four horses where they left the water and scrambled up the bank. He drew his Colt and fired two shots in the air to signal Ed. In a few seconds, he heard an answering shot and figured it to have come from the common trail on the other side. After another couple of minutes with no sign of Ed and Horace, he fired another shot in the air. A few moments later, he saw them making their way through the cottonwoods to come out on the creek bank. Sighting him then, they crossed over to join him.

  “This is where they came across,” Will said when Ed and Horace came up to him. “They left a pretty plain trail for us, headin’ that way.” He pointed dead west toward a gap in a low line of hills in the distance. “I figure it’s about fifty-five or sixty miles to the Arbuckles from here, wouldn’t you say, Ed?” Ed agreed, so Will continued. “I’d figure, if they stay on this line, it’s about twenty-five or thirty miles to Blue River. We could make it there before we rest the horses, if we push ’em a little. Whaddaya think?”

  “That’s fine by me,” Ed said, aware that Will was trying to make sure this was a joint operation and he respected his opinions. But as far as he was concerned, he was content to let Will call the shots.

  With Will leading, they followed the trail across an empty, rolling land until coming to Clear Boggy Creek, which was about halfway to Blue River. There they found a campsite. “They didn’t go very far before they stopped for the night, did they?” Horace remarked.

  “No, they didn’t,” Will said. “But it was gettin’ pretty late at night when they were ridin’ across here, so I reckon they didn’t wanna take a chance on in-jurin’ a horse. I’d say it was a pretty good idea to rest ’em. Judgin’ by the tracks, they were workin’ those horses pretty hard.” He took a good look at the campsite. “This is where they caught up with the other three. They were waitin’ for ’em here on Clear Boggy.” They waited there only long enough to let the horses drink before starting out again for Blue River. By the time they reached it, horses and riders were ready to rest and get something to eat. When they figured the horses were ready, they started out again, riding another twenty miles before camping for the night.

  CHAPTER 14

  Up at first light, the three riders readied their horses for what Will and Ed figured to be a ride of between ten and fifteen miles before reaching the base slopes of the Arbuckle Mountains. There was no question in Will’s mind about the destination of the men they followed. The outlaws’ tracks led to an old Indian trail Will had followed before, and when they struck the trail, the outlaws stayed on it. They were going to The Falls. “Whaddaya think?” Horace asked. “Reckon I oughta fix a little breakfast before we start out this mornin’? You say it ain’t but about ten or fifteen miles before we get to them mountains. We might be pretty busy when we get there.”

  “We might at that,” Ed replied, and turned to Will. “Whaddaya think, Will?”

  “I could use some coffee and a little something to eat,” he answered. He was no longer concerned about catching up with the five outlaws. He was mainly concerned with how he was going to capture them. He remembered the camp the outlaws called The Falls. A cabin built up at the top of a narrow gully, it was not an easy place to approach without being seen. So, convinced that they would find Hawkins and his gang there, he no longer felt the need to hurry. He figured the outlaws should have gotten to the cabin last night, and they weren’t likely planning to go anywhere else for at least a little while. And it was obvious that both Ed and Horace wanted to eat first. “We might as well go to work with a full stomach,” he said, and Horace got busy immediately to revive last night’s campfire.

  * * *

  A little over fourteen miles west of the deputies’ camp, at a point where a lively stream came down between two twin mountains, the five escaped prisoners followed Ward Hawkins. In single file, due to the narrow path, they climbed up a game trail beside the stream. “You sure this is the way to that cabin?” Tiny called out to him. “This trail is pretty damn grown over. We oughta have got to that gully by now.”

  “I’m sure,” Hawkins shot back over his shoulder, although he was not really that sure. Tiny was right, the path had grown over since he had first made his way up it. “We ain’t halfway to that gully,” he added con
fidently.

  “I hope to hell we’re on the right trail,” Harley piped up. “I’m so hungry I could eat the south end of a northbound mule.” They had spent the night in a camp near the base of the mountain they were presently climbing. This morning, Hawkins had insisted on starting up to a cabin that was supposed to be near the top before thinking about breakfast.

  “If we run across a mule runnin’ wild up here, we’ll know which part to save for you,” Pete Jessup japed. “You ain’t the only one needin’ breakfast. My belly’s makin’ sounds like a tornado goin’ ’round in there.”

  “A belly the size of yourn, it’s a wonder we all ain’t heard it,” Harley cracked, then the joking stopped as they suddenly became aware of a noise coming through the fir trees above them. “What the hell is that?” Harley blurted. Like Pete and Ernie, he had never been to the outlaw camp before.

  “It’s The Falls,” Tiny answered. “Water comin’ down from a cliff up above the cabin.” A few dozen yards farther brought them to a narrow gully and the game trail left the side of the stream and went up the gully. After another short climb, Hawkins held up his hand, signaling them to stop.

  “We’d best lead the horses from here on up,” Hawkins said, and climbed down out of the saddle. “It gets pretty steep in spots and you’re liable to catch yourself doin’ a backflip, and your horse landin’ on top of ya.” Everyone followed suit and they led their horses up another dozen yards before Hawkins signaled another stop. When they all caught up to him, they could see the simple log cabin through the branches of a large fir tree. It was built beside the source of the noise they had heard, a small pond, formed by the stream cascading down from a cliff, some seventy feet above it. “Best check to see if there’s anybody in there right now,” Hawkins said. He turned to Harley, who had moved up beside him to take a look, and pointed to his left. “Climb up on the side of the gully yonder. You oughta be able to see a little corral behind the cabin. See if there’s any horses in it.”