Pray for Death

by William W. Johnstone; J. A. Johnstone

  Following the creek around a sharp bend, he pulled Buster to a sudden stop when he spotted the ranch house in the distance. A big, two-story frame house with a wide porch that ran all the way across the front, it sat on a treeless yard, with a barn, bunkhouse, and several other outbuildings clustered around. He sat looking for a long while, watching the house, but there was no sign of anyone working outside or around the barn. There was smoke coming from two chimneys on the house. He shifted his concentration to the bunkhouse, where there was also smoke coming from a lone stovepipe. Frank Brown had made no mention of cowhands working for the Hawkinses, only Hawkins brothers, so Will naturally wondered who slept in the bunkhouse, the brothers? Or was it the new arrivals? Even if he knew, what could he do about it? At this point, he was forced to admit he didn’t know. He decided that while he was making up his mind, he could try to move in a little closer to the ranch house to better be able to watch them. As he looked over the open area before him, he could see only one spot where he could get close in. And that was where the creek ran close by the back corner of the barn. There was a thick growth of trees on both sides of the creek there, so he wheeled Buster around to ride in a wide sweep around the ranch and approach it under cover of those trees.

  Reasonably certain he hadn’t been discovered, he guided Buster into the trees and paused to watch the barn and house for any sudden activity that might tell him he’d been spotted. There was nothing to indicate that he had been, so, after a few minutes’ wait, he urged the buckskin on into the water. As soon as he crossed the creek, he dismounted and tied the horses to keep them from wandering. Then he moved up closer to the outer edge of the trees, picking a spot where he could watch the back door of the ranch house as well as one side of the barn and the corral. He would have liked to be able to watch the door of the bunkhouse, too, since there appeared to be a fire going in the stove. Once again, he found himself thinking it would have been handy if he had brought Jim Little Eagle to help him. As soon as he thought it, he knew he would have never asked Jim to come with him. He was going to catch enough hell as it was for operating in Texas. If he had persuaded a Choctaw policeman to cross the line with him, Dan Stone might hang him. He would fire him, to say the least. And that would please Sophie and her mother. That thought slipped into his brain unintentionally, causing him to caution himself to keep his mind on the business he was risking his neck to do. It was an unnecessary warning, however, for the back door of the ranch house opened, capturing his attention at once. A large man with many of the physical traits that Ward Hawkins exhibited, came down the steps from the kitchen. One of his brothers, Will easily decided, even though this man was thinner of face and had darker hair. He was wearing a heavy coat, so Will guessed he might be intending to do some chore outside, maybe check on their cattle. From what he had witnessed on his way up the creek, it was high time somebody did. With one stop at the side of the barn to relieve himself of the quantity of coffee he had no doubt been drinking, he went inside. A few minutes passed, then two more men, bundled against the weather, like their brother, came from the kitchen and headed for the barn.

  “Bring that sorrel you like, too,” Lemuel said to Caleb when he met him and Arlie coming in the barn. With his saddle on his shoulder, he paused to give his brothers instructions. “We won’t come back till about suppertime, so we’ll need some coffee and somethin’ to eat, too. Soon as I get saddled up, I’ll go back to the kitchen for the coffee, and I’ll see if Maudie’s got any of those biscuits left. We’ll go up to that old line shack and build us a fire, if it’s still standin’. Fanny won’t know the difference. As long as we’re gone, she’ll think we’re roundin’ up strays.”

  Upon hearing the conversation among the brothers, Will could not help but have a feeling of disgust for their lack of responsibility to take care of their stock, even if it was stolen stock. It was easy to deduce, from their conversation, that they planned to ride out to lie around in a line shack until suppertime in order to fool their mother. Then it occurred to him that his disgust for the men had caused him to fail to realize the opportunity they were about to provide for him. As far as he could determine, there were no other ranch hands working there. He remembered Frank Brown saying the ranch was run by Fanny Hawkins and three sons. With that being the case, there should be no one left on the place, but Fanny and maybe a cook. Unless, he thought, that fire burning in the bunkhouse meant Ward Hawkins and Tiny McGee had come here, and they were camping out in the bunkhouse. Up to this point, he had not figured out how he could possibly ride into a party of five gunmen and arrest two of them without getting shot full of holes. It now became possible to pull it off with these three getting ready to ride out and not return for hours. If Hawkins and Tiny were in the main house, however, he might have the old woman, Fanny, to worry about—maybe the cook, too. He had no way of knowing. Call it luck, or fate, whatever, it was an opportunity he hadn’t expected to be handed to him and he couldn’t afford to waste time to act. Get moving, he found himself silently badgering the three brothers to get saddled up and out of the way.

  After what seemed an inordinate amount of time, the three brothers finally rode out of the barnyard. Will watched until they were out of sight to see that they continued in the same direction they started out in. When they were gone, the next thing he had to find out was whether or not Hawkins and McGee were actually in the bunkhouse. If they were not, he was going to have to come up with a whole new strategy to invade the main house. He went back to get his horses, then walked along the creek past the barn, where he could now see the bunkhouse. Leaving his horses in the trees again, he crept up to the edge to take a good look at the bunkhouse. It was a simple building with wood siding, one door on one end and one window on the other, designed no doubt to provide a draft through the bunkhouse when needed. He moved silently along the side to the window at the end.

  Confident that there was no one outside the house to surprise him, he eased his head up to look in the window. So dirty that it was almost opaque, the glass in the window was just possible to see through, but it was enough to show him what he hoped for. Closer to the other end, the two men he sought were sitting beside the stove. Having pulled straw ticks and blankets from the bunks, they had fashioned lounges upon which to take their comfort. Made to order, he thought. They didn’t look like they were going to go anywhere anytime soon, so he was ready to take the first risky move. It was important, if he was going to pull this off successfully, to have their horses saddled and ready to ride as soon as Hawkins and Tiny were captured. That meant he was going to have to go back to the barn to saddle two horses and hope Tiny and Hawkins stayed put while he did.

  Still cautious, although he felt sure there was no one left to see him, he walked in the barn to find the tack room. The two saddles in the corner were obviously the property of the two now taking their ease in the bunkhouse. Seeing a coil of rope hanging on a peg near the door, he pulled it over his arm to rest on his shoulder. Then he picked up a saddle in each hand, holding it by the horn, and walked out to the corral. With no concern for which horse belonged to which outlaw, he picked out a couple of stout ones. Both horses accepted the bridle without protest, so in a matter of minutes, he had two horses saddled, and so far, no indication that anyone from the house had taken notice. He led the horses around to the back of the barn, where he fashioned a lead rope from one horse to the other, with enough left to tie to his packhorse. When that was done, he hurried back into the trees to get his horses. Once he had tied the two saddled horses to his packhorse, he proceeded to complete the dangerous part of his plan.

  “Hell, I could get used to this,” Tiny declared as he reached up to get the coffeepot from the stove. He filled his cup, then gestured toward Hawkins, but Hawkins declined. Settling back down beside the stove, he said, “I was hopin’ they didn’t expect me and you to ride off with ’em to round up strays.”

  Hawkins grunted, unconcerned. “I didn’t come back here to nursemaid no cows. Besides, Lem
uel don’t want me workin’ with him and the other two, anyway. He’s so damn scared I’m comin’ back to take over this ranch.”

  When the door opened, both men turned their heads to see who was coming in. Unable to believe their eyes at first, both men could only gawk, wide-eyed at what appeared to be an apparition standing in the doorway, a rifle leveled in their direction. When Hawkins started to make a motion to get up, Will warned, “Don’t even think about it. Sit right there.”

  Regaining his wits after those first few moments of shock, Hawkins snarled, “You’ve got to be crazy as hell, walkin’ in here like this.” He automatically dropped his hand to his hip, only to be reminded that he had not strapped on his handgun.

  “You’re right,” Will responded. “I am a little crazy. So you’d do well to believe me when I tell you, you make one funny move and I’ll put a bullet in your chest. I came to arrest you, take you to trial, but if you make any move to resist, I’ve got no choice. I’ll blow you to hell without thinkin’ about it twice.”

  “All we got to do is holler once or twice and you’ll have Fanny waitin’ for you to come outta here. And she’ll be waitin’ with her Henry rifle,” Hawkins said.

  “Like I said,” Will countered. “That would be the last sound you’d ever make. The best chance you two will have is to go back to Fort Smith for trial. It’s a long trip back there, maybe I’ll get careless. That’s your best bet. Anything else, and you’ll most likely end up dead right here and I won’t have to bother with transportin’ you back.” He looked at Tiny, who was still trying to believe it was happening, then looked back at Hawkins. “So what’s it gonna be? Execution right here, right now, or go back for trial?” They both looked uncertain, so he continued. “You can think about tryin’ to jump me, if you think you can jump up from there before I put a bullet in both of you. But I don’t think you can. Even if you could, which one of you wants to volunteer to take that bullet, so the other one can jump me?”

  Neither man could supply an answer until finally Hawkins spoke. “All right, you mongrel, you’re holdin’ all the cards right now, but like you say, it’s a long way from here to Fort Smith.” He still remembered the first time he had decided to call Will’s bluff, and he was convinced Will meant it when he said he would execute them on the spot.

  “Tiny?” Will looked at the big man again. When he reluctantly agreed with Hawkins, Will said, “All right, both of you roll over on your belly with your hands behind your back.” When both men rolled over, he quickly tied their wrists together. Tiny was first because he was the bigger man and the most likely to try something if his hands were free while Hawkins’s hands were being tied. When each man was tied with their hands behind them, Will rolled them over with their arms pinned beneath them and made a quick search for any pocket pistols or knives. In the process, he came up with cash money taken from Jasper Johnson’s store at the crossroads. “All right, get on your feet.” He stood back and pointed toward the door with his rifle.

  “What about our coats?” Tiny complained. “It’s cold as hell out there.”

  “You’re right,” Will said. “I wanna make sure you’re comfortable.” He saw a couple of coats on one of the bunks. “Who belongs to which one?” When Tiny identified his, Will picked it up and draped it over Tiny’s shoulders. Then he picked up the other one and put it on Hawkins’s shoulders. He marched them out the door and around to the back of the barn, where they were disappointed to find two saddled horses waiting for them.

  “That’s my saddle, but it ain’t my horse,” Tiny complained upon seeing the gray wearing his saddle. Will told him it was his horse from now on. Then Tiny said, “Well, I can’t climb up in that saddle with my hands tied behind my back.”

  “I’m gonna help you,” Will told him. Then, with a cautious eye for Hawkins, in case he thought that an opportunity to make a break for it, he steadied the big man while he stepped up and threw a leg over the saddle. When he was settled, Will repeated the procedure with Hawkins. With both prisoners sitting calmly on their horses, Will climbed aboard Buster and led his procession out from behind the barn. So far, his luck had been good. He had not thought to count on Hawkins’s three brothers to conveniently be away from the ranch. Nor had he expected to capture both of his prisoners without a shot being fired. His luck took a turn for the worse, however, when he led them away from the barn and started across the open barnyard toward the trail back to the Wichita River. He turned when he heard the kitchen door open and the cook stepped outside to empty her dishpan. She took one look at the parade leaving the barn and rushed back inside. Oh hell, he thought, and gave Buster a firm nudge. The buckskin responded and they started off at a gallop.

  Seeing the alarm in Maudie’s face, Fanny Hawkins did not wait for an explanation. She grabbed the Henry rifle she kept by the kitchen door and rushed outside in time to see Will leading his column toward the creek trail. There was no hesitation on her part as she raised her rifle and tried to set the sights on him. Her target was rapidly galloping out of her effective range, but she managed to get off two shots. The first one missed her target and the second one struck Tiny right between the shoulder blades. He slid from the saddle to land heavily on the ground. “Damn!” she swore. “It’s shootin’ a little bit low.” Already they were out of range for the Henry, so she dropped it to her side and watched the strange procession riding out of sight. Not sure who she had just shot, she went down the steps and started out across the barnyard with mixed emotions for who it might be. Maudie was right behind her.

  “Well, it ain’t my son,” Fanny announced when she got to the body. “It’s that Tiny feller.” She was at once struck with indecision, not sure how she felt about this sudden invasion upon her territory, and from the looks of it, by a single lawman. Already estranged from her son, she was not sure if she really cared that he had just been snatched right out from under her nose. It was obvious to her that the only reason he had returned to the family he had chosen to abandon was because the law was after him. On the other hand, she was not willing to stand for the law trespassing on her property, and there was a strong desire to teach them a lesson. For that reason alone, she considered having her boys go after their brother when they returned to the house. She looked at Maudie and remarked, “Just bad timin’ that feller slipped in here when my boys were gone.” Looking back at Tiny’s body, she said, “Let’s see if he’s got any money on him. We’ll let the boys drag his big ass outta the yard when they get back.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Once out of rifle range, Will reined Buster back to a fast walk and kept him at that pace for about two miles before he pulled up to take inventory of what was left of his jail party. “I reckon that was your mother that done for Tiny,” he said to Hawkins. “Seems like a gentle lady. I figure she musta missed when she knocked him outta the saddle. Reckon who she was aimin’ to hit, me or you?”

  “Too bad she missed,” was Hawkins’s sullen response. He was not inclined to confess to Will that he wasn’t certain, himself. “You didn’t bother to see if Tiny was dead or alive. He mighta needed help.”

  “He might have, at that, but I figured my primary responsibility was to transport you safely to Fort Smith, so I had to get you outta harm’s way as quick as I could. I reckon your mama will take care of him, if he is alive, or finish him off if it was him she was shootin’ at.” When looking back at the time the shots were fired, he saw Tiny when he was hit, and he didn’t stir after he hit the ground. There was no way to tell if he was dead or alive, and there was no percentage in favor of stopping to see. “It’s a good thing you managed to hang on to that coat ’cause I wouldn’ta stopped to pick it up, either.”

  His comment caused his prisoner to snarl once again. “You’re lucky I didn’t fall off, with my hands tied behind my back.” He had been forced to hang on to his coat by clamping his teeth around the collar and holding on until his jaws ached. He didn’t think Will was aware of it, so he didn’t confess it. “It wouldn’t hurt not
hin’ if you tied my hands in front of me. It’d be a helluva lot easier to stay in the saddle.”

  “I expect you’re right,” Will said. “Don’t know why I didn’t think of that.” Since Hawkins had evidently escaped his mother’s attempt to shoot them, Will climbed back into the saddle with the intent to put as much territory as possible between them and Bobcat Creek. When they reached the Wichita, it would be only a few miles from that point before reaching the Red River and Oklahoma Territory on the other side. He had wanted to bring Tiny back to trial along with Hawkins, but it should make his task quite a bit easier to deal with one prisoner, instead of two. He had to assume that Hawkins’s brothers would come after him, even crossing into Indian Territory to chase after them. Will’s challenge was to simply leave no trail for them to follow. He would have been surprised had he known that Hawkins was not at all confident that his brothers would follow them.

  By the time they reached the Red, Will had decided it best to travel the east–west road leading to the crossroads where Jasper Johnson had his store. It was a fairly well-traveled wagon road and his tracks might not be so easy to distinguish. He remembered the difficulty he had when tracking Hawkins and Tiny on the road when going in the opposite direction. Johnson’s store was a good fifty miles from the point where he struck the road, and it was approaching noon at present. So he decided to press on for another thirty miles or so before stopping to rest the horses. Then he would decide whether or not to camp there for the night. He was thinking he would be at Johnson’s by midday the following day. From there, he thought it better to follow the road on to Tishomingo, then head to Atoka from there. He figured there was a better chance of losing the three brothers if he took the less-traveled way to Atoka.