Dig Your Own Grave

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Dig Your Own Grave Page 13

by William W. Johnstone


  “I was wonderin’ and I’m kinda glad he did—give me a chance to do something without bumpin’ into Cecil every time I turn around. I swear, as old as that man must be, I don’t think he knew anything about a woman till he came here.”

  Elmira chuckled at the thought. “I reckon it’s a good thing for him that he found you, ’cause the way things are goin’, he might not be around much longer with Will Tanner out there waitin’ for ’em.”

  “You’re runnin’ low on whiskey.” Both women were startled, surprised by the gruff voice. They turned to find Ansel standing in the doorway, glaring accusingly.

  Not sure if he had heard all of their conversation, Elmira quickly replied with a question. “Did you fellers finish up all those three bottles I had in the cupboard?” She didn’t wait for an answer before offering to send her son to Brinker’s for more. “Eddie could ride over there and fetch a couple more bottles.”

  Beaudry gave that a moment’s thought before replying. “I’ll send Cecil over there to get it, so we don’t get charged too much for it.” Remembering then, he added, “Your son can go with him to show him the way.”

  “I’ll call Eddie up from the barn,” Elmira said, and went at once to the back door to do so.

  When he came to the door, Ansel walked over to give him instructions “You need to ride down to the river and find Cecil and Luther. When you find ’em, tell Cecil you’re gonna take him over to Brinker’s. Tell him to buy three more bottles of whiskey. He can pay for it and we’ll split it with him when he gets back. Tell him I said to keep an eye out for that lawman.” Ansel could have sent either man to the store, but he preferred to keep Luther close by.

  * * *

  “If he’s got a camp in these parts, it ain’t nowhere close to Grassy Creek,” Luther concluded. “It’s like I said before, Tanner don’t know where we’re holed up. We might as well go on back to the cabin.”

  “Reckon you’re right,” Cecil agreed. They had ridden up and down the river for about a mile each way, finding no sign of even an overnight camp. Back at the mouth of Grassy Creek now, he started to say more, but was startled by the sound of a horse whinnying, causing him to jerk his pistol from his holster.

  “Take it easy,” Luther said. “That’s somebody coming down the creek.” They waited a few moments before Eddie appeared, riding a sorrel mare. “It’s just Elmira’s boy.” When Eddie rode out on the riverbank, Luther asked, “Where you headin’?”

  Eddie relayed the instructions Beaudry had given him. “Ansel said to show Cecil how to get to Brinker’s store—said to tell you to buy some more whiskey, three bottles, he said, on account you’ve done drunk it all up—said to tell Cecil to keep an eye out for the lawman.”

  “You sure he said to take Cecil with you?” Luther asked, thinking he and Ansel had decided they would all sit tight and wait Tanner out.

  “Yes, sir,” Eddie said. “And he said to tell Cecil to pay for it and you’d all split it when he got back.”

  Luther shrugged. He believed the boy had it straight, but he disagreed with the idea of sending Cecil to the store. It worried him to a degree that Ansel was letting this lawman get into his head a little, but Ansel was the boss. They had all agreed on that from the start. “All right, then,” he said to Cecil, “but you be damned careful and make sure nobody follows you back here.” Cecil assured him that he would, then nodded to Eddie, and the boy led him toward the game trail beside the dead tree.

  * * *

  “I expect we might be gettin’ kinda hungry by the time we get to Brinker’s,” Cecil commented after they had struck the common trail to the trading post. “We’ll see if they ain’t got somethin’ good to eat. That’d be all right, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir,” Eddie replied enthusiastically, “it sure would.” Of all the five gang members that had shown up at his mother’s place, he liked Cecil best. He seemed a simple man, and he didn’t have the menacing look about him that the others possessed. Besides, unlike the others, he didn’t make mean remarks to, or about, Darlene.

  When they reached Brinker’s, Effie Brinker was just in the process of putting dinner on the table for Tyler and their son, Thomas. She was happy to set two more places for two paying customers. As far as Cecil was concerned, it was well worth the money, so they took their time and ate their fill. Much of the conversation between Cecil and Brinker had to do with the arrest of Bo Hagen and Tom Daly. “That feller, Will Tanner, walked right in, pretty as you please, and arrested them,” Tyler said, then went on to tell how Tom had tried to draw on him and got tangled up in the chair. Cecil, of course, wanted to know if Tanner had been back since, but was not surprised that he had not, since the store was in Texas.

  After dinner, Cecil went into the store with Tyler to buy the whiskey he had been sent after. While Tyler wrapped the bottles to keep them from breaking on the trip back, Cecil showed no interest in the two women sitting at one of the tables in the saloon section of the store. This in spite of the fact that one of them called out to him and invited him to join them for a drink. Instead, he showed more interest in a small bunch of blooms that Effie had fashioned into a nosegay for her own amusement. Cecil asked Eddie if he thought Darlene might be pleased by something like that. Eddie speculated that she might, and Effie was happy to sell it to the simple man for a quarter.

  When the horses were rested and it was time to start back, Cecil packed the whiskey in his saddlebags and held the little paper bag with the nosegay in his hand, so the flowers wouldn’t be crushed. They headed back down the old Indian trail halfway to the point where it met the game trail to the river, never noticing the lone man astride a buckskin horse standing in the shadows of the trees. Only when abreast of him and as he walked his horse slowly out of the shadows, his Winchester rifle aimed directly at Cecil, were they aware of him. “Make that move and you’re a dead man,” Will warned when Cecil started to react.

  “Mr. Walker!” Eddie exclaimed. “It’s me, Eddie Tate!”

  “Howdy, Eddie,” Will replied. “Who’s your friend, here?” He kept his rifle aimed squarely at Cecil’s chest.

  “That’s just Cecil Cox,” Eddie said. “He’s all right. He’s stayin’ at Mama’s house with some other fellers.”

  That was all Will wanted to know. He could not have identified Cecil, since he had never seen him, but his name was one of those he had written down. “All right, Mr. Cox, I’m gonna ask you to take your left hand and draw that handgun real slow and drop it on the ground.” Eddie watched, astonished, as Cecil, holding the nosegay in his right hand, dropped his reins from his left hand and did as he was instructed. He was smart enough to know he didn’t stand a chance with the Winchester aimed right at him. “Now, climb down from there,” Will ordered, and when he did, Will checked him for any other weapons. “I’m arrestin’ you for your part in two bank robberies and five murders.” He started to handcuff him then, but paused to ask, “What’s in the sack?” When Cecil, fully aware that he had no hope of resisting, said that it was a nosegay, Will had to see for himself, since he didn’t know what a nosegay was.

  “It’s for Darlene,” Cecil said.

  Will realized then that Cecil was evidently a simple soul and he guessed that explained why he had not shown the first sign of resisting. “All right, give it to Eddie. He can take it to Darlene. Put your hands together.” He handcuffed him, with his hands in front of him, and told him to climb back into the saddle, then he tied his reins to Buster’s saddle. “I’ll tell you what I tell every man I arrest. If you don’t cause me any trouble, I’ll not ride hard on you, but if you force me to, I won’t hesitate to shoot you down.” Cecil nodded his understanding, having already decided he was caught and there was nothing he could do about it. It was just bad luck, but he was used to it. He had always had bad luck.

  Finally finding his voice again, after watching the effortless arrest of Cecil Cox, Eddie was still finding it difficult to believe that the Mr. Walker who had stayed with him and his moth
er when they were at Sartain’s, was arresting Cecil. “Mr. Walker,” he asked finally, “are you Will Tanner?”

  “Reckon so,” Will answered him. “Give my best to your mama and tell your other two guests I’ll be seein’ ’em.” He climbed aboard his horse and wheeled him back in the direction they had just come from, leaving Eddie still confused over what had just taken place.

  When they followed the trail back to Brinker’s, but continued on past, Cecil spoke up. “Are you takin’ me where you took Bo and Tom?”

  “That’s right,” Will answered.

  “I took part in those two bank robberies you talked about,” Cecil volunteered. “But I never shot none of those people that was killed. I didn’t have no part in shootin’ that little boy at the store in Bartles Town, either. That was done by Whip Dawson. I never even shot at nobody.”

  “That’s good to know, and you know what? I believe you, but that ain’t for me to decide. That’s up to the judge. Maybe he’ll believe you, too.” Based upon what he had seen so far of Cecil Cox, he wouldn’t doubt but that he was telling the truth.

  Chapter 10

  “What?!” Ansel demanded. “He arrested him?” Almost beside himself with anger, this last piece of news was enough to send him into a rage. “How the hell could that happen? It sounds like every man I’ve got ridin’ with me can’t wait to run up and surrender to this son of a bitch. And now he knows where we are.”

  While Ansel continued to fume, Luther, somewhat calmer, asked Eddie, “Where were you when he arrested Cecil?”

  “On the old Indian river trail, about halfway back to where the game trail cuts down to the Washita,” Eddie replied. He turned to Elmira then. “It was Mr. Walker, Ma. He was the one who arrested Cecil. I asked him if he was Will Tanner and he said he was.”

  “Well, I never . . .” Elmira started, picturing the man in her mind whom they had come to know as Mr. Walker. “I ain’t never been so wrong about a man in my life.”

  “Did Cecil tell that deputy where we are?” Luther asked.

  “No, sir,” Eddie answered. “He never asked Cecil where you were.”

  “That don’t mean he ain’t gonna,” Ansel fumed.

  Luther, still thinking about Eddie’s answer to his question, tried to talk calmly to Ansel. “If he arrested Cecil where the boy says, then he still might not know where we are. He just knows that we’re somewhere not too far from Brinker’s. He don’t know where this hideout is.”

  “This hideout!” Ansel exploded. “This is one helluva hideout—we’re treed, that’s what this is!”

  “Well, what are we gonna do about it?” Luther pressed. “You’re right, he’s got us treed, whether he knows it or not. He can’t find us, that’s a fact, but we can’t come outta this hideout, neither. He’s cut us down to where there ain’t nobody but you and me, two of us, and we were six when we started.” He stopped to consider what he had just said, then changed his mind. “No, that ain’t right. He knows where we’re hidin’. That’s why he didn’t ask Cecil where we are, but he don’t wanna risk his neck comin’ up here after us.”

  Luther’s calmness tended to temper Ansel’s rage enough for him to try to think rationally about their situation and what action they should take. “You’re right,” he said after a moment. “He ain’t gonna risk ridin’ up this creek. We could just sit on the porch and wait for him to come up and pick him off without ever havin’ to get up outta the rockin’ chair.” He thought about that a moment longer. “But I don’t know if I wanna play a waitin’ game with him. I’d sooner hunt him down and shoot him and be done with it.” He paused again, his deep frown reflecting his concentration as he tried to work the problem out in his mind. “He ain’t watchin’ this camp right now,” he suddenly announced, “’cause he’s takin’ Cecil to the same spot he took Bo and Tom.” He looked at Luther for his reaction, but received no more than a puzzled look in return. “He arrested Bo and Tom, then it was three days later when he arrested Cecil. That sounds to me like he’s takin ’em somewhere a day and a half’s ride from here, and he ain’t gonna show up around here again for three more days.” He paused to swear. “Damn! We oughta get on his trail and catch him before he gets to wherever he’s keepin’ ’em. Maybe we can cut Bo and Tom loose in the bargain.”

  Luther listened patiently until Ansel was finished with his theory. He could not disagree with the speculation that Tanner was taking his prisoners somewhere maybe a day and a half away. But if he was taking them that far, it would seem that it would be to someplace where he could lock them up where he wouldn’t have to worry about them. Otherwise, why bother to ride that far away? Maybe he just tied ’em up somewhere close by? Tom Daly was the only one of them who knew the territory, and he was gone, so Luther looked to Elmira for help. “Elmira, where’s the nearest town around here? Maybe about a day and a half’s ride from here,” he continued.

  “There ain’t no town that close around here,” she answered. “That’s the whole idea behind buildin’ this hideout in the first place—ain’t near any town.” She paused then to give his question more thought. “The only place about a day and a half from here is Camp Supply, if you count that as a town.”

  “Damn!” Ansel blurted, struck with the obvious answer to the question. “He’s not got ’em tied up somewhere! He’s takin’ ’em to Camp Supply to lock ’em up.”

  “Well, I reckon I ain’t plannin’ to try to bust ’em outta a damn army fort,” Luther declared without waiting for Ansel to comment. “I swear, though, that makes sense. He arrests ’em and takes ’em to the fort to hold ’em while he comes back here to wait for a chance to jump one of us.”

  “Maybe so, but that still means we’ve got three days to get ready for him,” Ansel said, his mind back to his obsessive desire to kill this demon who was effectively destroying his master plan piece by piece. “He’ll come back on the same trail as before, where he took Cecil, but we’ll have plenty of time to set up an ambush for him. He won’t be expecting that.”

  Luther didn’t respond immediately—he had other thoughts. When he expressed them, it wasn’t what Ansel wanted to hear. “If we’ve got this figured right, and he’s gone for three days, I’m thinkin’ that gives us a three-day head start on the son of a bitch. So we oughta pack up and get the hell outta here, head up Colorado way, or New Mexico Territory. If he knows about Grassy Creek, every other lawman in the territory’s gonna know about it, too. I’m thinkin’ we need to find us somewhere else to hole up, somewhere a helluva ways from here.”

  “I want him dead!” Ansel responded. “I want his guts on a fence post!”

  Luther could see that he was not going to change Ansel’s mind about killing the deputy, although running seemed to him the smartest thing to do. Grassy Creek was a good idea, but they were just unlucky that it was a spot that was known by a deputy marshal. It would be best to make use of the time they had to get a head start on the lawman and find a new hideout. Now that he was faced with a tough decision, maybe it would be best for him to go his separate way. He and Bo had joined with Ansel while in prison, and right from the start, Ansel was the one calling the shots. And from their initial success in robbing banks, Luther was satisfied to let Ansel make all the decisions. It wouldn’t go well for him to go against Ansel at this point, however, when Ansel was already half-crazed with the passion to kill Tanner. On the other hand, maybe he’s right this time, too, he told himself, still somewhat reluctant to quit him. Further discussion on the Will Tanner problem was interrupted at that moment by an alert from Eddie from the front door. “There’s somebody comin’ up the creek,” he yelled.

  With weapons drawn, Luther and Ansel ran out to the porch. As Ansel had commented earlier, they could see the rider approaching well before he got close enough to identify, and they could have picked him off sitting in a rocking chair. “Hello, the camp,” a voice rang out from the dark tunnel created by the overhanging trees.

  Recognizing the voice, Eddie announced, “It’s Moon!
” In another few seconds, they recognized the familiar figure of Oscar Moon, leading a packhorse behind him. Hammers were released and drawn weapons returned to their holsters.

  Having overheard the discussion between Ansel and Luther, Elmira was not certain which of their plans she favored. She was beginning to think she had rather the two outlaws decided to run for it, in spite of the money she would surely earn if they stayed. She walked out on the porch to join them upon hearing Eddie say it was Moon approaching. It was she who answered his greeting. “Come on in, Moon.” When he pulled up to the porch and dismounted, she said, “Didn’t expect to see you back this soon. Whatcha got, some fresh meat?”

  “Evenin’, all,” Moon replied. “That’s a fact, I run up on some fresh deer meat that kinda has a beef flavor after I smoked it—thought maybe you folks might have a use for it.”

  Elmira chuckled in response. “I reckon we can always use more deer meat. Eddie can help you unload it.”

  He couldn’t help noticing a feeling of tension in the air between Ansel and Luther, neither of whom had offered any greeting. “What’s the matter with you boys, ain’t Elmira treatin’ you right?”

  “That deputy arrested Cecil today when him and Eddie was ridin’ back from Brinker’s,” Luther said. “I don’t reckon you ran into him anywhere along that trail, did you?”

  “I swear, that is a poor piece of news,” Moon responded, and slowly shook his head to show his concern. “No, I ain’t seen him, but I didn’t come back that way.”

  Ansel had refrained from commenting to the crusty old cattle rustler, his mind still heavily occupied with his vengeful thoughts for Will Tanner. Another thought crossed his mind then, prompting him to ask, “You ever go to that soldier fort, that Camp Supply?”

  Moon shrugged. “Well, I go by there from time to time.” He glanced at Elmira and grinned. “They generally keep a small herd of cattle there to feed the soldiers, but the soldiers ain’t what I’d call the best cowhands when it comes to watchin’ the cows.”

 

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