Torture of the Mountain Man

by William W. Johnstone

  “What are we goin’ to do with ’em, Deputy?” Philbin asked. Philbin was the manager of the depot for the Risher and Hall Stage Coach Lines. “I don’t want ’em lyin’ out here in front of the depot, that wouldn’t be good for business.”

  “Take them down to the undertaker,” Dalton said. “Oh, and tell Mr. Ponder to stand these two up out front to see if anyone can identify them.”

  * * *

  “Look who just showed up,” Dalton said, leading Smoke and the others into the sheriff’s office where Rebecca was. Looking up from the book she had been reading, she smiled broadly when she saw Smoke and the others.

  “Uncle Kirby!” she shouted enthusiastically, and tossing the book aside she ran to him with her arms spread wide. Smoke gave her a hug, then she went to Sally. Pearlie and Cal were standing by, self-consciously.

  “Pearlie and Cal, oh, I’m so glad you two came as well,” Becca said, hugging them as she had the others.

  “They had a little excitement on the way here,” Dalton said, and he told about the attempted stage holdup.

  “Lanagan was behind it,” Dalton said in conclusion.

  “How do you know?”

  “Smoke heard one of the men call out his name.”

  “Is he one of the six who was killed?” Becca asked.

  Dalton shook his head. “No such luck. He got away, the only one to do so.”

  “Ha! Maybe Uncle Kirby has taken care of your problem already,” Becca said.

  “I don’t know,” Dalton said. “I know that Claymore is a member of Lanagan’s gang, and probably Seth McCoy. But neither of them were among the six killed. I expect Lanagan still has a number of men in his gang.”

  * * *

  Ed Slater, one of the newest members of the gang, abandoned the horse he had stolen before entering Weatherford. He did that, rather than ride all the way, because he was afraid that someone might recognize the horse. Taking a hotel room in Weatherford, he used the time to recover from the bruises sustained in his fall from the train, and the long walk. The next day, he reclaimed his own horse from the livery and continued his journey to Audubon. And now, almost forty-eight hours since he boarded the train in Ft. Worth, he rode into Audubon. As he rode down the street, he saw a dozen or more people gathered in a group. Curious as to what it was that had their attention, he rode over to see.

  “Damn!” he said aloud.

  There, in front of Ponder’s funeral home, were two open caskets standing up on their ends, exposing the bodies inside. A sign over the two caskets read DO YOU KNOW THESE MEN?

  In fact, Slater knew both of them because he had met them only a week before, when he joined Lanagan’s gang. One, he remembered, was Rufus Small, and the other was Dooley Thompson. Of course, Slater didn’t know if those were their real names or not, because most men who rode the outlaw trail didn’t use the names they were born with. He did know, however, that they were the names the two men had been using when he met them. They were part of Lanagan’s gang, but what happened to them? How did they wind up gettin’ themselves killed?

  The long ride had made Slater thirsty, so he decided to stop in the Blanket and Saddle for a beer. But it wasn’t just the beer that took him there. He knew that having two bodies exposed in such a way was not a normal thing; therefore it was likely to be the subject of conversation in the saloon. And if he wanted to find out what had happened, all he had to do was listen.

  “Has they been anybody that says they know who them other two outlaws is, yet?” someone asked, shortly after Slater ordered his beer. “I’m talkin’ ’bout the ones that’s standin’ up in front of Ponder’s place.”

  “No. They got the names of the four others though, the ones that was inside.”

  “Six of ’em. Six of ’em try ’n hold up a stage that don’t even have no shotgun guard ridin’ on it, ’n all six of ’em gets shot down.”

  Six of Lanagan’s men killed? Slater thought. That didn’t seem very likely, but there was no denying that it happened. He had seen two of them himself.

  Slater got his beer and drank it quietly, listening to the conversation going on around him.

  “They was actually seven of ’em,” one of others said.

  “No, they’s only six. Ponder’s got four of ’em inside because they was some people that knowed who they was. It’s them two that’s standin’ up out in the front o’ his place that they don’t nobody know who it is.”

  “They was seven of ’em, but one of ’em got away. Lanagan, it was, who’s the one that got away.”

  “Lanagan? Clete Lanagan? Wait a minute, ain’t he the one that robbed the banks up in Pella ’n Salcedo. ’N, come to think of it, ain’t he also the one that shot Sheriff Peabody?”

  “Well, he was there when the sheriff was shot, but he warn’t the one what actual shot the sheriff, that bein’ Claymore.”

  “But you’re sayin’ that it was Lanagan that tried to hold up the stagecoach.”

  “Yes.”

  “That seems kind ’a odd to me, on account of ’cause most of the time when Lanagan sets out to do a thing, why, he generally gets it done.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s cause he ain’t never run into the feller that was ridin’ shotgun before.”

  “Shotgun? I thought Parsons didn’t have no shotgun guard with ’im.”

  “Yeah, well, here’s the thing, It wasn’t no real shotgun guard, it was one of the passengers.”

  “They was six of ’em killed. Are you tellin’ me that it was one of the passengers that done the shootin’?

  “Actually, they was three of ’em on the stage, ’n all three of ’em was shootin’, but I only know the name of one of ’em, him bein’ Smoke Jensen.”

  “Smoke Jensen? Why, I’ve heard of Smoke Jensen. He’s sort of a really famous feller, ain’t he? ’N you’re a-tellin’ me that he was a passenger on the stagecoach?”

  “Yep.”

  “Now, what do you suppose a feller like Smoke Jensen would be doin’ here, in Audubon? I mean, especially what with him bein’ famous ’n all. Don’t he live up in Colorado or Wyoming, or some such place?”

  “He lives in Colorado, but it turns out that he’s some kind of kin to Deputy Conyers. He’s his uncle or somethin’, ’n what I heard is he’s come down here to help ’im out.”

  “Help ’im out with what?”

  “Help ’im out with Lanagan. Like you said, Lanagan most often gets done what he sets out to do, ’n he’s got ’im a gang goin’ now. So, what with Sheriff Peabody down, ’n Conyers not bein’ able to raise a posse or nothin’ . . .”

  “Now wait, I woulda gone with ’im iffen he coulda got hisself anyone else, but there didn’t nobody else say they would go with ’im. ’N what good will one more man have done ’im?”

  “Yes, well, him not bein’ able to get nobody a-tall meant he was havin’ to handle things all by hisself. So what he done was, he sent off for his uncle to come help him out.”

  “I can’t say as I blame him for lookin’ for help, but the truth is I don’t see how somebody like Lanagan can be handled by just two men, even if one of ’em is somebody like Smoke Jensen. And you most especial ain’t goin’ to be able to handle Lanagan with just the two of ’em seein’ as Lanagan has more ’n likely got hisself a gang.”

  “Don’t forget, there was two more men that come with Jensen. And besides which, Lanagan more ’n likely don’t have no gang left by now anyhow, or at least not much of one. They’s them six dead men that’s down at Ponder’s place, all of ’em kilt by Smoke Jensen. ’N like you say, Lanagan was with ’em, but he got away.”

  “Yeah, but Claymore ain’t one o’ them six men ’n like as not Lanagan has got more.”

  “McCoy warn’t one of ’em neither.”

  “McCoy’s in jail over in Antelope.”

  “No, he ain’t. He escaped. Didn’t you read it in the paper?”

  “I don’t figure it’ll much matter to Jensen how many men Lanagan has with ’im. From what I’v
e heard of him, he’s the type of feller that would go into a bear’s den ’n snatch a whisker off’n its face.”

  Slater, who had nursing his beer as he listened to the conversation, turned toward the one who seemed to be best informed.

  “Who is this Jensen feller you boys is talkin’ about?” Slater asked, topping off the inquiry with a swallow of his beer as if showing that the question was of idle curiosity only.

  “You ain’t never heard of Smoke Jensen?”

  “No, I can’t say as I have heard of ’im,” Slater replied.

  “Well, he’s just about the biggest hero there ever was, is all. Wild Bill Hickok, Wyatt Earp, Bat Masterson, there ain’t none of ’em can hold a candle to Smoke Jensen. Why, it’s said that he can shoot the flame out of a candle, then have his pistol back in the holster before the light goes out.”

  “Good gunfighter, is he?”

  “Why don’t you ask them six dead boys down at Ponder’s? They’ll tell you how good he is.”

  “I expect he’ll get this town ’n whole county cleaned up better ’n Sheriff Peabody ever coulda done,” one of the others said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  While Becca helped Sally, Pearlie, and Cal get checked in to the Del Rey Hotel, Dalton took Smoke down to Dr. Palmer’s office to see Tom. When they stepped into the back of the office, they saw Dr. Palmer and Tom talking with a patient who was sitting up in bed.

  “Damn, Sheriff, I thought sure I’d find you still sleeping,” Dalton said.

  “Dalton, m’ boy, you should know by now that it’s goin’ to take more than one bullet to put me down,” Sheriff Peabody replied, ebulliently. “Who’s this feller with you?”

  “Hello, Smoke, it’s been a while,” Tom Whitman said, extending his hand.

  “Hello, Doc,” Smoke replied.

  “Dr. Palmer, Sheriff Peabody, this is my uncle, Kirby Jensen. Though you may have heard of him as Smoke Jensen.”

  “Smoke Jensen? Yes, indeed, I’ve heard of you. What in the world are you doing here?” Sheriff Peabody asked.

  “I sent for him,” Dalton said. He smiled, then nodded toward Tom. “Just like I sent for Dr. Whitman. I wanted to get the absolute best doctor in America to help you, and the best lawman in America to help me, and by damn, that’s what I did.”

  “Lawman?” Peabody asked.

  Smoke smiled. “Well, not exactly. At least, not down here. The governor of Colorado has given me a state commission as a deputy. I’m not a regular lawmen, but it’s a title I can use up there when having such a position can come in handy. I guess you might say I’m a deputy ex cathedra.”

  “An ex what?” Sheriff Peabody asked.

  “Sally taught me that word. It means that, even though I’m not a regular deputy, I have the authority of a deputy. At least, in Colorado.”

  “Well, I’m glad Dalton was able to get you,” Sheriff Peabody said. “There is no doubt in my mind but that this man, Lanagan, is going to cause us a lot of trouble. And the truth is, I have heard of you, but you’re only one man.”

  “He brought two very good men with him, and he’s already got a good start,” Dalton said.

  “What do you mean, he has a good start?”

  “You know about the railroad coming through Audubon. Well, today ten thousand dollars was being transferred by the railroad to our bank. The money was on today’s stagecoach from Weatherford, and Lanagan and six of his men held it up. That is, they tried to hold it up. They hadn’t counted on Smoke, Pearlie, and Cal being on the coach. The money got through and is now on deposit in our bank.”

  “Pearlie and Cal came down too, did they?” Tom asked.

  “Yeah, they did.”

  “I’m glad they came as well. They are both exceptionally good men.”

  “You know them, do you, Doc?” Sheriff Peabody asked.

  “We were once drovers together,” Tom said.

  “Drovers? You? Are you telling me you once worked a herd of cattle?”

  “Tom was as good a drover as we had,” Dalton said.

  “Hmm.” Sheriff Peabody looked over at Dr. Palmer. “Didn’t you say this man took a bullet out that was less than an inch from my heart?”

  “That he did.”

  “A drover operated on me?”

  “Well, Andy, you have to understand that Tom was just real handy around the cows, why, I once saw him get a thistle from side of a heifer’s eye without blinding her. That’s why I thought he’d be good for getting the bullet out.”

  Dr. Palmer laughed. “Dalton is riding you a bit, Andy. Dr. Whitman is one of the finest surgeons in the country.”

  “But I did work as a drover for Dalton’s father.”

  “Yes, well, The Colonel always did have a nose for picking good men.” Sheriff Peabody smiled. “After all, he made me his sergeant major.”

  “And my father says it was the best decision he made during the whole war,” Dalton said.

  Sheriff Peabody turned his attention back to Smoke.

  “So Smoke and his men drove the robbers off?”

  Dalton chuckled. “In a manner of speaking they did, although the only one they drove off was Lanagan. The other six are down at Ponder’s funeral home. That stopped the robbery.”

  “Yes, I would think so,” Sheriff Peabody agreed. “Do you know who any of the six men are?”

  “We’ve identified Pete Grogan, Emile Gates, Norm Vegas, and one named Teeter, but nobody knew his first name.”

  “This Teeter, he was a small man, was he?” the sheriff asked.

  “Yes, you know him?”

  “If he is the one I’m thinking about, it would be Walt Teeter. And don’t let the fact that he was a little man fool you. He was as cold blooded as they come, with at least six killin’s to his credit, ’n two of em were women. Grogan and Miller I know too, but I don’t know anything about Vargas.”

  “Well, like I said, those four, and the two standing up in front of Ponder’s place, won’t be bothering us anymore, thanks to Smoke, Pearlie, and Cal. Sheriff, I hope you don’t mind that I asked Smoke, Pearlie, and Cal to come down and help me,” Dalton said.

  “No, not at all! Why should I mind? I think it was real smart of you to ask for help. I just wish I could be out there with you, but the doc says I’m goin’ to have to stay down for a couple more days.”

  “I would say that a few more weeks is more like it,” Tom said.

  “Well, if I can’t do it, at least I know it is in good hands.” Peabody looked at Dalton. “I heard how you got this part-time doc,” he paused and smiled before he continued, “and part-time drover, to come take the bullet out. I owe you a lot, Dalton, and I won’t forget it.”

  “I didn’t want to lose you, Andy. You’re not just my boss, you’re a very good friend.”

  “Not to say the father of the girl you’re courting, right?” Dr. Palmer added with a little chuckle.

  Dalton laughed as well. “Yes, there is that,” he agreed.

  “Smoke?” Sheriff Peabody said.

  “Yes, Sheriff?”

  “Hold up your right hand. I’m about to give you cathed . . . uh . . . ex . . . uh, well, whatever the hell it is that you have up there in Colorado.”

  Smoke raised his hand.

  “Do you swear to uphold the law of Texas, ’n do whatever you can to help Dalton bring in that son of a bitch Clete Lanagan ’n his men, so help you God?”

  “I do.”

  “You’re a deputy. Dalton, bring those other two men in sometime soon, ’n I’ll swear them in as well.”

  “Thanks, Sheriff.”

  “Don’t think I have any more badges.”

  “Dalton’s badge will be enough for all of us,” Smoke said. He stuck out his hand to shake hands with the sheriff. “Get well quick, Sheriff, I’ve got a ranch to run, and I need to get back to my cattle.”

  “I’ll get well as fast as I can, I promise you that,” Sheriff Peabody replied.

  * * *

  From the Audubon Eagle
:

  Attempted Stage Coach Robbery Foiled !

  Sam Parsons, stage coach driver for the Risher and Hall Stage Coach Company, was interrupted on the 10th Instant, when his Weatherford to Audubon run was stood up by a group of would-be stage coach robbers. Mr. Parsons was carrying a money pouch containing ten thousand dollars, the money to be deposited in the Bank of Audubon for use by the Texas and Pacific Railroad in construction of a line to Audubon.

  There were seven armed and desperate men spread across the Weatherford Road, and the purpose of their presence was made immediately clear when they called upon Mr. Parsons to halt the coach. It is not known whether they were aware of the amount of money being transported by Mr. Parsons, or if they were merely attempting to rob the stage coach in the hopes of coming away with sufficient funds as to make their adventure profitable.

  One might think that, in choosing this particular stage coach on this particular day, they might have enjoyed the opportune happenstance of intersecting their greed and ambition, with the unannounced transfer of a significant amount of money. Unfortunately for the brigands who had put their foul deed into motion, there were three passengers on board the stage coach who, at the time the robbery was attempted, offered their services for the protection of the stage coach and the money. Leaving the coach with pistols in hand, the stalwart band of heroes engaged the vandals with guns ablaze.

  As a result of their ill-conceived plan, six of the outlaws are now temporary guests of Ponder’s Undertaking Establishment, soon to be permanent residents of the Potter’s Field corner of the Audubon Memorial Cemetery. Four of the decedents have been identified, they being Pete Grogan, Emile Gates, Norm Vegas, and Walt Teeter. Two of the outlaws have not been identified, and their grisly remains are as of this writing, standing in front of Ponder’s mortuary establishment. A printed sign has been placed over the two corpses for the purpose of soliciting identification from any who may recognize their final remains.

  Lanagan and Claymore were passing a bottle of whiskey back and forth when Slater returned to the outlaw camp.

  “How was your trip to Ft. Worth?” Lanagan asked. “Were you able to get the money you went after?”