Jack Parker Comes of Age

by Ed Roberts

  Jack watched his father covertly, while tidying up the range and black-leading those parts that looked shabby. It was clear that the wire which had just been handed to him was enough to cause his father some perturbation. He guessed, quite correctly, that it had some reference to the men heading into Wyoming from Texas. Tom Parker glanced up and, seeing his son’s eyes upon him, said, ‘I just received word that this damned train is on the move and heading in this direction. There’s a chance that this’ll not concern us, but I wouldn’t lay odds on it. Day after tomorrow is when your birthday falls, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is, yes sir.’

  ‘All I’ll say is this. If those boys are leaving Cheyenne and look like to come here, then morning of your birthday, I’ll swear you in. Only ’til this affair is done with, mind. After that, we’ll talk about your future.’

  ‘Thanks, Pa.’

  ‘Don’t thank me, you young fool. You little know what you’re asking for,’ replied his father gruffly, ‘Why you can’t be content with studying in books is more than I can say. Still, there it is. You’re full young and want to see some excitement.’

  Sheriff Parker was being less than candid with his son. He had no intention of placing his only child in hazard, and for all that he was ready to have the boy appointed, in theory at least, a deputy, he was not about to see Jack ride against a band of hardened wretches such as these Texans appeared to be. He would find a way of keeping the boy safe, even if it meant locking him up.

  Later that morning, Jerry Reece came in and announced that there was great enthusiasm among the homesteaders for joining a legally constituted posse and facing down Carter and his bully boys. It was a question, now, of which way the town would jump when the knife reached the bone. ‘Time’s come, I guess’ said the sheriff, ‘to ask folk here which side they’re going to be on. There’s no room left for shilly-shallying, and the men will either have to be for law and order, or on the side of a crew of Texan freebooters.’

  ‘That how you’ll present the case to ’em?’ asked Reece.

  ‘I reckon,’ was the laconic response. ‘Time’s come to lay down,’ said Sheriff Parker abruptly, ‘Let’s see who’s got what cards and who’ll be with us, now that the time is here.’ He stood up and said to Jerry and Jack, ‘You boys come with me.’

  ‘Where are we going, sir?’ asked Jack.

  ‘In the first instance, we’ll pay a little visit to that mayor of ours and see if he’s grown a backbone yet.’

  It might have been his imagination, but Jack fancied there was an air of tension on the streets of Mayfield, the feeling one gets sometimes when a thunderstorm is about to arrive. His skin prickled, and as he walked alongside his father to Mayor Collins’ home, Jack thought that the eyes of all those they passed were trained upon them expectantly. Perhaps it was as his father suggested, that the time was drawing near when the men living in the town would be forced to make a choice and declare themselves to be on one side or the other. Nobody likes being put into such a position, and the man who buffalos others into making a stand is seldom likely to win any popularity contests.

  The mayor had evidently been anticipating a visit from the sheriff, because the three of them were hardly through the door, before he began expostulating angrily about being placed in a false position. ‘What it is, Parker, is where you’ve been trying to persuade me to sanction some kind of battle against some of the most important individuals hereabouts. Well, it won’t answer and there’s an end to the matter!’

  Sheriff Parker did not get agitated, merely saying quietly, ‘There’s better than fifty armed men, mercenary wretches, from all that I’m able to apprehend, heading this way to commit murder. You’re telling me that’s no concern of mine?’

  ‘Don’t try and bluster with me,’ said the mayor, his voice rising an octave and increasing in pitch, ‘Mr Carter’s wired me about that. There’s nothing untoward, these men are regulators. They’ll patrol the range and look out for rustlers. Any they find will be handed over to you, there’ll be due process.’ Then, in a quieter voice – Jack thought that ‘wheedling’ would aptly describe Mayor Collins’ new tone – he said, ‘Come on Tom, you and me have known each other for the longest time. Surely to goodness we ain’t going to fall out over a trifling matter such as this? You wouldn’t get crosswise to me for the sake of a few stock thieves, would you?’

  Shaking his head sadly, Sheriff Parker said, ‘I thought the better of you, Bill.’ Turning to his deputy and son, he said, ‘Let’s go. We’ve business to attend to.’

  As they left the room, Mayor Collins said, ‘Don’t you do nothing hasty now, Tom. You hear what I tell you?’

  After they were out of the house, Jack asked his father what would now happen. ‘I suppose that what next happens,’ replied his father slowly, ‘is that I go ahead and start recruiting for a posse. I’m damned if I know how I’m going to pay them, not without the mayor’s goodwill and co-operation, but there it is. If we don’t make a stand, then we’re altogether lost. I sit by now and watch a heap of murders being done for a base motive, what kind of sheriff am I? What kind of man either, if it comes to that?’

  ‘You going to start today?’ asked Jerry Reece, ‘Time’s running low, from what I can see.’

  ‘Those Texans’ll be hitting Cheyenne this very night. They can hardly start moving in on us until tomorrow, or most likely the next day,’ said Sheriff Parker slowly. ‘I can’t raise a body of men and then tell them to sit around waiting. Especially where as things stand, I’m like enough to have to pay ’em out of my own pocket. No. I’ll speak to folk tomorrow evening and then ask them to stand by. Lord, I could do without this!’

  Tom Parker was pretty good, as a rule, at calculating to the finest point when to strike and when to hold fire. He could hardly be blamed on this occasion for hesitating until he was certain of what was going on. The following day was quiet as could be, until about eleven in the morning, when the sheriff had it in mind to go to one or two saloons and see if any men were desirous of joining him in enforcing the law. Jack was sitting in the office, waiting to see if his father would tolerate his son accompanying him to a bar-room. Truth to tell, he didn’t think it at all likely that he would be allowed to go along on the recruiting drive.

  There had been no word that morning of what the train-load of gunmen might be up to, the line being down between Mayfield and the state capital. Nothing was thought of this until later, it not being an uncommon occurrence for Mayfield to be temporarily cut off from the rest of the world in this way. Just as the sheriff was locking away various papers and preparing to send his son home, so that he himself could visit a few saloons, the door to the street opened and two ragged and ill-kempt individuals entered the office. The men, grizzled oldsters, were, from the look of them, trappers or hunters. ‘Evenin’ captain,’ said one to the sheriff, ‘Thought as we ought let you know what’s what, ’way over yonder.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Heap o’ shootin’, some miles north of here, ’bout five hours since.’

  ‘Perhaps the two of you would care for some coffee? Jack, could you see to it please? Sit down and make yourselves comfortable and tell what you’ve seen.’

  The two men were, it appeared, as the sheriff had guessed, trappers. They had been passing along a ridge when they’d heard shooting, a considerable amount of it. To their ears, it sounded just like a gun battle being fought. Curious to know what was going on, they proceeded cautiously to a point where they had a good view of what was happening. A large number of men, some dozens, were besieging a log cabin. Every so often, shots would be fired from the narrow windows of this little dwelling, towards the attackers, whereupon a fusillade of shots would be directed against the wooden hut. This went on for about an hour; the men had no idea how long the siege had been in progress before they arrived on the scene.

  The trappers had the impression that when they first sat down to watch the show, the firing from the cabin had been stronger and was no
w slackening off a little. The conclusion they drew was that at first there had been several defenders and that maybe some had been hit and put out of action. Then there was a long spell with no shooting at all, and the two watching men speculated that perhaps the last of the men in the cabin had now been hit. This proved not to be the case, however, for the door was flung open and a man came charging out, with a rifle in one hand and pistol in the other. The emergence of this fellow seemed to take the men surrounding the cabin by surprise. He blazed away with his pistol as he ran, and then, when that was empty, he cast it aside and raised the rifle to his shoulder. Then the attackers recollected themselves and a dozen men fired at him, sending him sprawling to the dirt before he even had the chance to get off one shot with the rifle.

  ‘Was that all,’ said the sheriff in a low voice, ‘meaning, did you boys leave at that point?’

  ‘No, we didn’t like to leave at once and draw attention to our own selves,’ said one of the men, ‘Being witnesses to murder, like, we thought as they might decide to do away with us as well, you see.’

  ‘Smart move. So what did you do?’

  ‘We waited. After they’d kicked the body about some, they went into the cabin and there was a couple o’ shots. Then they saddle up and leave.’

  ‘And you came straight here, to do your civic duty and report a felony?’ asked the sheriff, in a gently ironic tone. ‘That’s mighty public-spirited of you, boys.’

  ‘Me and m’partner,’ said one of the men, ‘Was wondering if there’s any sort of reward at all. Also, we found this on the dead man. Thought it might be important.’ He delved into his clothing and produced a cheap notebook, which was smeared and bedaubed with dried blood. ‘Anyways, you might be wantin’ it.’

  A glimmer of hope showed in Sheriff Parker’s eyes. He said, ‘You men want paying. Happen you’re running low on cash money?’ The two of them nodded eagerly, clearly half hoping that they would be handed a bag of gold or something of the sort. ‘What it is,’ continued the sheriff, ‘is that you fellows look to me like you can handle yourselves well, maybe you fought in the war. I’m raising a posse to take on those men you seen do this thing. Five dollars a day. You want in?’

  But it appeared that neither of the trappers did want in. Upon discovering that there was no reward to be had of a monetary nature, they were keen to shake the dust of the town from their feet and make off back into the wilderness. After they had left, the sheriff said to his son, ‘Jack, you’ve a fine reading voice. Would you care to tell what is written here?’

  Jack Parker took the notebook, trying to avoid touching the bloodstains and leafed through it. Most was taken up with notes of various financial transactions, but the last few pages were in the form of a personal statement, which was signed at the end with the name of Johnathon Cade. He looked up and said to his father and Jerry, ‘Hey, wasn’t Cade the name of that fellow as was here a few days since? Wanting to stake claim on his land?’

  ‘It’s the same man,’ said his father grimly, ‘Read it out loud, son.’

  Clearing his throat, Jack read, ‘Me and Pete were getting breakfast when the attack took place. Pete started out and I told him to look out and that there was danger. He is shot but not dead yet. He is awful sick but still shooting back at those damned villains. It is now two hours since the first shot and the bullets is coming like hail. I must wait on Pete.’

  Jack looked up and said, ‘The writing gets a bit raggedy, like it was done in a real hurry. I think this page was written later than the first. Shall I go on?’

  ‘Yes, read it all son.’

  ‘Pete is dead. Them fellows is in such shape I can’t get at them. They are shooting from the stable and river and back of the cabin. Well, they stopped shelling of the house now. I guess they are going to fire this place. I think I’ll make a break for it. Goodbye boys, if I never see you again.’

  After Jack had finished, the three of them sat in silence for a minute; perhaps as a mark of respect for the dead homesteader who had chronicled the last hours of his life. Then, Sheriff Parker broke the silence, saying briskly, ‘Well, the time is upon us, I guess. I waited long enough. Jerry, you ride round the homesteaders. Spread word that if they want to fight back, now’s the time. Tell ’em to gather all the men they can and come to town. I’m going to rouse this place and alert them to their danger. I never heard the like, fifty armed men from the south riding down on us in this way. It isn’t to be borne!’

  ‘What would you have me do, sir?’ asked Jack.

  ‘You come with me. You can go errands for me, I guess?’

  ‘Does that mean I’m like a regular deputy now?’

  Despite the gravity of the situation, Sheriff Parker chuckled. He said, ‘Lord, you remind me of me at such an age. I suppose that you’re a-wanting your birthday present today and not wait ’til tomorrow, is that the strength of it?’

  Jack had the grace to look a little abashed and simply shrugged his shoulders. His father went over to his desk and rummaged around in a drawer. Jerry Reece stood uncertainly at the door; on the point of leaving and not wishing to intrude upon what looked to him like purely personal, family business. Sheriff Parker growled to him, ‘Don’t hover on the threshold like that. It makes me nervous. Come back a moment, for I need you to witness a document.’

  Jerry walked over to the sheriff and said quietly, ‘You sure about this, boss? Things are like to get pretty damned lively ’fore long. You don’t want your own kin in on it, seems to me, not if it can be helped.’

  ‘True as far as it goes, but the fact is that I need men by my side as I know won’t cut and run when the going gets a little hot. This boy of mine has his faults, as God he knows, but he’ll stick to me like a cocklebur. You never hear where blood is thicker than water?’

  ‘I heared something of the sort from my grandpappy,’ admitted the deputy, ‘But I still got my doubts about this.’

  ‘Happen so, but one of us is sheriff and the other deputy. Just you stand to, while I administer this oath.’

  Handing a crumpled sheet of paper to his son, Sheriff Parker said soberly, ‘If you’re really resolved upon this, then read out these words. Recollect, though, that this is a sworn oath. It’s no light matter.’

  A little awed at his father’s tone of voice, Jack took the proffered sheet and spoke the following words, ‘I, Jack Parker, do solemnly swear that I will perform with fidelity the duties of the office to which I have been appointed this day and which I am about to assume. I do solemnly swear to support the constitution of the United States and to faithfully perform the duties of the office of deputy sheriff for the state of Wyoming. I further swear that I have not promised or given, nor will I give any fee, gift, gratuity or reward for this office or for aid in procuring this office, that I will not take any fee, gift or bribe or gratuity for returning any person as a juror or for making any false return of any process and that I will faithfully execute the office of deputy sheriff to the best of my knowledge and ability, agreeably to law.’ Jack paused after making this declaration and then confessed candidly, ‘I don’t know what some of those words mean.’

  ‘Means you’re going to deal straight and do nothing underhand,’ explained his father, ‘Now I have to tell you that I have witnessed your oath on this seventeenth day of July in this year of grace, eighteen hundred and ninety one. Jerry, set your mark on this and then me and the boy, I should say, the new deputy, will also sign it.’

  Once all this had been satisfactorily completed, Sheriff Parker said, ‘Jerry, you cut along now and try and get those settlers moving. Me and this new deputy will pay a few visits in town. I don’t aim to see any more murders committed in my jurisdiction, not while I can do anything about it.’

  After Jerry Reece had departed, Jack said to his father, ‘I don’t need to worry about all that stuff about bribes and gratuities, do I sir?’

  ‘All you need to worry about, son, is keeping that rifle of yours near at hand and being prepared, if necessa
ry, to fire it at men.’ He went to the desk drawer again and pulled out a little piece of metal, which he handed to Jack, saying, ‘Here, you’d better wear this or folk’ll say there’s something irregular about the whole thing.’ When Jack looked down at what lay in his hands, he saw a small, silvery, six-pointed star, with rounded points. In the middle of this star were inscribed the words, ‘Deputy Sheriff’. Awestruck, he looked up at his father.

  ‘Should I pin it on my jacket?’

  ‘I should say that’s a right good notion, son.’ As he looked at his son, so eager and boyish on the one hand and so grown up on the other, Tom Parker felt his eyes misting over unexpectedly. He turned away, furious with himself for allowing such foolish emotion to get the better of him.

  Jack said, ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘Yes,’ growled his father, determined not to reveal any sign of his feelings. ‘Let’s get on with things, the day is wearing away.’

  It was still not yet noon, and the Star of the North saloon had only two customers, farmers from out of town come to do a little trading. Sheriff Parker went to the barman, whom he knew well, and said, ‘A very good morning to you, Roland. Business a little slack today?

  ‘Ah, it’ll pick up in an hour or so. What can I do for you today, sheriff?’

  ‘If you’ve no objection, you can pass the word to those who come in here that I’m looking to raise a posse. Men who will be prepared to hazard their lives standing up to a bunch of armed invaders.’

  The barman stared at Sheriff Parker for a moment and then shook his head. ‘As bad as that, hey? Knew it was in the wind, didn’t know it would be upon us so quick.’

  ‘It’s not of my choosing. But tell me now, what’s your own view of the thing, which is to say Carter and the homesteaders?’

  Flattered to have his opinions solicited in this way and never averse to speaking his mind, John Roland thought for a second and then said, ‘You ask anybody in Mayfield that question a twelvemonth ago and I’ll warrant we all would o’ give you the self-same answer. Namely, Mr Timothy Carter is this town’s biggest benefactor. Why, the money his cowboys throw around in the town is something to behold. But you know that, sheriff. These days though, folk are thinking more about how times have changed. The range is vanishing, day of the cowboy is over. I reckon the future lies with them settlers. They’ve families, they want to be prosperous and they’ll bring money to the town. Maybe not this year, but it won’t be long.’