* * *
Still fuming inside over the second time he had been caught by the unpredictable deputy marshal, Ward Hawkins promised himself that he would never end up in Fort Smith. He would get his chance, he told himself, if he was patient. His complaining earlier, about his hands behind his back, had fallen upon deaf ears and he was forced to ride that way for the most part of thirty miles before Will stopped at a shallow creek for the night. It was against his nature, but he decided his best chance of turning the tables on the deputy was to pretend he was beaten. So when Will helped him down from the saddle, he mumbled a soft, “Much obliged.” He could see that Will was surprised by the words of thanks, but his sly smile also told Hawkins that he was suspicious as well.
“I reckon I know when I’m beat,” Hawkins said. “Ain’t no use to give you any trouble. I’m just ready to get to Fort Smith, get my trial over with, and get to the hangin’.”
Will looked at the suddenly beaten man, even more skeptical of his sudden reversal of attitude, but he decided to play the game as well. “That oughta make the trip a little easier on you. I’ll tell you what I tell every prisoner I transport to trial—you don’t give me any trouble, I won’t give you any trouble.” He glanced around the spot he had picked for his camp and used the Colt .44 he was holding to point toward a small oak. “That’s your tree right there. You can sit right there while I build a fire and fix something to eat.”
“I gotta take a leak first,” Hawkins said.
“Figured you might,” Will said. “You can walk right over yonder by those other trees.”
“I got a little problem,” Hawkins replied. “I can’t let it fly with somebody watchin’ me. How ’bout if I just step behind them bushes on the other side of them trees?”
“Then I reckon I’ll have to step behind ’em, too,” Will said with a smile. “You just go where I told you and turn your back to me. That’ll work just as well. Either that or hold it till we get to Fort Smith. Now, stay still while I untie your hands.”
Hawkins couldn’t help a sly smile. It was worth a try, he figured, and stood obediently while Will untied his hands. Then with Will standing about ten yards away, holding his Colt ready to fire, Hawkins relieved himself without bothering to turn his back. When he was finished, he went to the tree Will had pointed out. “Now, sit down and straddle that tree,” Will ordered, and when he did, Will took his hands and quickly tied his wrists together. “You can sit there and watch me do all the work.” Then with Hawkins left hugging the tree, Will went about taking care of the horses and building a fire. It was a procedure he had practiced many times before when transporting one lone prisoner without the use of a jail wagon. He had a gut feeling that the prisoner he was dealing with on this trip was more dangerous than any he had dealt with before. For that reason, he made it a rule to have one eye on him at all times.
When the coffee and bacon were ready, Will untied Hawkins’s hands so he could eat, but before his prisoner had time to think about it, Will took the rope and tied his feet together, still astraddle the tree. “When I’m transportin’ a prisoner, I’ve got certain rules. One of ’em is about eatin’. I untie your hands, so you can eat, but I keep an eye on you while you’re eatin’. And if I see your hands anywhere near that rope around your feet, you get a .44 slug in your shoulder. Then the next time I feed you, you don’t get your hands untied.” He shook his head to emphasize, “And it’s a helluva lot harder to eat that way.”
Unable to maintain his pretense of passiveness, Hawkins leered at him and asked, “What’s your rule when my three brothers catch up with us and start throwin’ .44 slugs at you?”
“Well, my usual procedure in cases like that is to put a bullet in your brain, then use your body for cover,” Will said. “I hope I don’t have to use that rule this time.”
“Go to hell.” Hawkins could hold it no longer. Fully angry again, he picked up the plate of bacon and tore off a mouthful. “This ain’t much of a supper, even for a prisoner,” he complained.
“Hell, I ain’t gettin’ any better food than you are, but I’ll tell you what. If you behave yourself and don’t give me any trouble, I’ll buy us both a meal when we get to Jasper Johnson’s place at the crossroads. You remember that place, don’t you? I believe you and Tiny stopped in there on your way to Texas.”
Hawkins scowled fiercely. “If we make it that far,” he spat in defiance, even though he had no real hope that his brothers were coming after them. “The smartest thing you could do right now is cut me loose. You do that, and I’ll ride back to meet my brothers, and we’ll turn back and let you go.”
“That would be mighty considerate of you, Hawkins, since I’ve put you to all this trouble. I’ll think about your proposition.”
“You know there’s a lot of lawmen that ain’t workin’ for peanuts,” Hawkins went on, trying another approach. “Whadda they pay you? Two hundred a month? Less than that? If you had your mind set in the right place, I could guarantee you a helluva lot more than that.”
“I’ll sleep on it,” Will responded, “but I have to be honest with you. I just do this job to get to know interestin’ people like you. I don’t do it for the money. Now, I’ll put you away for the night and we’ll start out in the mornin’.”
* * *
“They’re back,” Maudie called from the kitchen door. Not sure Fanny heard her, she went through the kitchen to the hallway. “They’re back,” she repeated to Fanny, who was already hurrying from the parlor. Not even waiting to put on her coat, Fanny rushed past her cook and went out the kitchen door.
In the process of taking the saddles off their horses, her three sons were surprised to see her hurrying across the yard to meet them. “Uh-oh,” Lemuel muttered. “Wonder what’s got her stirred up.” All three paused to watch her striding toward them.
“Don’t put them saddles away!” Fanny cried out as she approached. “You boys are goin’ back out. Put them saddles on a fresh horse and get ready to ride!”
“What is it, Fanny? Where we goin’?” Arlie asked. Fanny turned and pointed to an object at the edge of the yard. They all peered in the direction she indicated to see a dark lump near the path leading out to the creek trail. “What’s that?” Arlie asked.
“Tiny McGee!” Fanny fairly shouted. “That’s what!”
“Ward?” Lemuel asked at once, thinking his brother must have had reason to shoot him.
“No, damn it!” Fanny replied. “Ward’s gone. A damn lawman rode in here and took him and Tiny, and rode right out again. I only had time for a couple of shots at him when they was ridin’ out, but Tiny got in the way of my shot.”
“You want us to go after him and bring Ward home?” Caleb asked. “We been out workin’ all day, and we ain’t had no supper.”
“I want you to catch up with that lawman and string him up to a tree, so any other lawman will know they ain’t gonna ride in here on our ranch anytime they please. I want you to ride tonight and catch up with him. Maudie will fix you some biscuits to take with you, but you’ve got to ride tonight while he’s stopped to camp,” she kept repeating to be sure they understood. “He rode out on the creek trail, headin’ for the river, goin’ back to Oklahoma, for certain. You oughta be able to catch him when they stop for the night.”
“What about Ward?” Lemuel asked, still not certain if his mother had accepted him back in the family or not.
“What about him?” Fanny answered with a question. “I don’t give a cuss about Ward. I want you to get that lawman. Now, get movin’. I’ll go to the kitchen to get you some grub. Throw them saddles on fresh horses!” She spun on her heel and headed toward the house.
“Boy, she’s really hot about gettin’ that lawman,” Caleb said when she was out of earshot. “She never said nothin’ about bringin’ Ward home. You reckon she wants us to bring him back?”
“You heard her,” Lemuel said. “She said to string that lawman up. We’ll just have to see what happens to Ward.”
“
How the hell are we supposed to track him in the dark?” Arlie asked.
“I don’t know,” Lemuel answered. “Maybe Fanny thinks they’ll be takin’ the same road Ward said they came outta Injun Territory on. I reckon we can just ride like hell on that road and see if we catch ’em. If we don’t, we don’t.”
“We might catch up with ’em, but if they ain’t camped right by the road, we still ain’t gonna see ’em.”
“Dagnabbit, Arlie, we’ll just ride up there in Injun Territory, and if we see ’em, we’ll take care of ’em. Just throw a saddle on another horse and quit bellyachin’ about it.”
“There ain’t no real reason to change horses,” Arlie complained. “We ain’t done nothin’ but lay around that line shack all day. Hell, my horse is just as fresh as any of ’em here in the corral.”
“Change horses, anyway,” Lemuel told him. “You’ll have Fanny comin’ down on all of us.” He jerked his saddle off his horse and turned it out in the corral. “That’s Ward’s horse,” he said upon spotting it. “He ain’t ridin’ his horse. I’ll throw my saddle on him.” He didn’t express it, but he was having thoughts about the possibility that his older brother might accidentally catch a bullet, like his friend Tiny had. That would end the possibility of the elder brother’s return to run the family for once and all.
Maudie and Fanny were back at the corral with biscuits and bacon wrapped up in three cotton towels before the brothers had finished saddling new mounts. They were soon in the saddle with Fanny still giving instructions. “You make ’em know they can’t ride onto this ranch and have their way,” she said. “String the devil up where other lawmen can see him. Lemuel,” she ordered him directly, “you bring me his badge, so I’ll know you took care of him.”
“Yessum, I’ll bring it,” he said, and wheeled his horse toward the creek trail. At a fast lope, he led his two brothers out of the yard, riding past the dark lump at the edge that was the late Tiny McGee.
* * *
Lemuel led the search party of three along the east–west wagon road, holding their horses to as fast a pace as he could without breaking them down. After a couple of hours, he let up on them. “I’m thinkin’ as fast as we’ve been ridin’ we might be gettin’ close to catchin’ up with him. I mean, if he’s gone into camp. Anyway, we’ll let the horses walk easy now and we’ll just have to keep our eyes peeled to see if we see any sign of a campfire. As open as this country is, he’d have to go a long way off the road to hide it.”
So the search continued, walking easy now with three sets of eyes squinting into the darkness while downing the last of Maudie’s biscuits. Whenever they came to a stream or creek, they spent a little extra time following it in both directions for a little way before deciding it was clear. Lemuel was considering calling off the search when Caleb suddenly blurted, “There! There’s a fire up that creek a ways!”
“Where?” Lemuel responded, equally excited. “I don’t see nothin’.” They continued to stare in the direction Caleb had pointed, but there was no sign of a fire, not even a spark. “You’re just seein’ things.”
As soon as he said it, Arlie pointed to the same spot. “There it is. I see it.” As they all three peered at the trees lining the creek some forty or fifty yards upstream, a tiny flash of light flickered, followed by a faint shower of sparks up through the branches of the trees to fade away in the dark sky. “Like somebody just throwed a stick on the fire,” Arlie said. His remark was met with the sound of three rifles cocking at almost the same time.
“Leave the horses yonder,” Lemuel said, pointing to a couple of willow trees on the edge of the bank about halfway between the road and the spot where they had seen the fire. “We’ll come up on him from three sides. That fire looks like he’s camped on the other side of the creek, so Arlie, you cross over to that side. Me and Caleb will stay on this side, and when we get even with his camp, Caleb, you keep goin’ for a ways. Then you cross over to the other side of the creek. If we’re quiet enough, we oughta be able to blast him from three sides before he knows what hit him.” He paused for a moment. “Any objections?” There were none, so they headed for the willow trees, anxious to get the party started.
* * *
Always a light sleeper, especially in the field, Will opened his eyes and listened. Something had stirred him awake. Then he heard Buster whinny and knew that was what had awakened him. Not only Buster, one of the other horses nickered as well. He raised up to look in the direction of his prisoner. If Hawkins had heard the horses, he showed no sign of it now. Slumped against the tree that imprisoned him, he had finally passed out after fighting his position for a considerable length of time. Satisfied Hawkins was secure, Will looked back toward the fire and the blanket roll he had formed to resemble a sleeping figure. About to look away, he was suddenly startled by a rifle shot from downstream that ripped into the blanket, causing the end of it to flap up. “I got him!” a voice sang out, then followed it with another shot. This time, however, Will was watching the darkness where he thought the first shot had come from, his rifle ready to fire. He saw the muzzle flash of the second shot and immediately squeezed off a round and heard a cry of pain.
Knowing his muzzle flash had likely given his position away as well, he rolled away from the edge of the tree he had been sleeping under and prepared to meet the next attempt, not sure if it would come from another direction. Peering into the darkness beyond the fire, he cranked another cartridge into his rifle, on his knees now. Before he could get to his feet, he felt a heavy blow on the back of his shoulder that knocked him down on his belly. He knew he had been shot. “By God, he’s shot now!” Caleb called out triumphantly. “I got him!” He threw another shot at the prone figure as he hurried to claim his kill.
Seeing Will go down, Lemuel came splashing across the creek to make sure he was dead. He stopped before reaching the fire when he heard Ward yelling, “Over here! Over here! Cut me loose from this damn tree!”
“It’s Ward!” Caleb exclaimed as he rushed up.
“Go find Arlie,” Lemuel said. “I think he got hit. I’ll take care of Ward.” When Caleb hesitated a few moments, Lemuel blurted, “Go on! Arlie might be needin’ help.” After a glance at the body of the lawman, he stood there, looking at his brother, his hands tied around a tree.
“Don’t just stand there gapin’ at me,” Hawkins exclaimed. “Cut me loose.”
“I swear, brother, damned if you ain’t got yourself in a fix, ain’t you? Tied to a tree, waitin’ for me and the boys to come save you. You ain’t such a big shot now, are you?”
“What’s the matter with you?” Hawkins demanded, uneasy with his brother’s attitude. “Cut me loose. You boys always knew I’d come back to the family just like Pa wanted me to. Ain’t that right?”
“Yeah, I reckon that’s right, all right,” Lemuel answered. “But you see, things have been gettin’ along just fine since you left, and I aim to keep ’em that way.” He raised his rifle to take dead aim at his brother, chuckling at Ward’s attempts to use the tree trunk to protect himself. “He oughta tied you to a bigger tree,” Lemuel said, aiming his rifle at his brother’s head. With the sudden crack of the rifle, Ward sank to his knees, but not from the gunshot. He could only gape, stunned by the sight of Lemuel’s body sagging lifelessly. As the rifle dropped from his hands, another shot sent him sprawling to the ground.
Hawkins could only stare in shock as Will struggled to get to a sitting position against a tree. The deputy didn’t look like he was going to make it. “For Pete’s sake, man, cut me loose before you die! You can’t leave me here tied to a tree.”
Not sure how badly he was hurt, Will was thinking to be ready for the third brother. Although he was beginning to really feel the pain behind his shoulder, he knew that he was showing no signs that any vital organ had been hit. A quick look inside his coat showed no evidence that the bullet went clear through. But his shirt was already soaked with blood. In response to Hawkins’s pleas to be set free, he said,
“Just sit there and wait for your other brother to come rescue you. You might have two brothers still on their feet. We ain’t sure if that first one is dead or not. Maybe they’ll be more apt to welcome you back to the family.”
The brother Will wondered about, Caleb, was at that moment kneeling beside his brother’s body—Arlie, having caught a .44 slug just below his chest from Will’s shot at his muzzle flash. When he had heard the two rifle shots fired back at the camp, he was not certain what to think. It sounded like Lemuel’s Winchester, but was he shooting at the lawman who was already dead, or did he shoot Ward? Caleb knew that was a possibility, so he was anxious to get back there to find out. He looked down at his brother, who was clearly dying, and finally said, “There ain’t nothin’ I can do for you. I ain’t no doctor.” He got up then and hurried back to the camp.
Crashing noisily through the underbrush and bushes, he stopped abruptly just before reaching the clearing when he saw Lemuel’s body sprawled on the ground and the lawman seated beside a tree with his rifle ready to fire. Lemuel and Arlie dead! The truth of that thought caused him to hesitate. Now he’s sitting there waiting for me to show up. He checked his rifle to make sure it was ready to fire. I shot him once. When I saw him a few minutes ago, he was dead. Caleb decided to take another shot at him before getting any closer, so he raised his rifle and tried to aim without trembling. Finally, he jerked the trigger, missing the target a good two feet. His shot was answered immediately by three quick shots that snapped branches on the large laurel bushes close to his side. Already spooked by the demon lawman who wouldn’t die, the barrage was enough to make Caleb back away, stumbling to the ground in his haste. Afraid the lawman would be coming after him, he crawled as fast as he could to reach the trees along the bank. Then he scrambled to his feet and didn’t stop running until he reached the horses tied in the willows. Once he was safely in the saddle, he did not spare his already exhausted horses, but headed back toward Texas as fast as the poor horses could go. As he rode, he tried to think of the best way to tell Fanny what had happened. He decided to tell her there was a posse of marshals waiting in ambush, and that Ward was already dead when they got there. It occurred to him then that he was the only man left of the Hawkins family, and the only one left to claim the role of boss. This business tonight with the devil might work to his advantage.
Pray for Death Page 24
