Merriweather Rides West

by Lee Lejeune

  ‘And what might they be?’ Davidson asked defiantly.

  Jacob turned to the manservant. ‘Arnold, my good man, I want you to accompany my friend Running Deer here and take him to where Sam Critchley and a young lady called Marie are being held. Then you can tell one of your stable hands to release them and bring out our horses and saddle up one of those fine thoroughbreds, so Mr Davidson can ride back to town with the dignity that becomes a gentleman. And by the way, I’m sure Mr Davidson would hate to lose a good servant, even if he is to be away for quite a stretch. So keep the house in order while he’s away.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  Arnold the manservant was like a good old English butler, apart from the fact he had had a gun in a shoulder holster. He remained calm and his face expressed no emotion as he carried out his orders, but as Jacob observed, his eyes told a different story. ‘Don’t turn your back on that guy for a second,’ he told himself.

  When Marie and Old Sam were released from the lock-up they reacted very differently. Old Sam even thanked the stable hand and manservant. ‘I knew you’d see reason soon enough,’ he said to Davidson. ‘It never pays to lock up innocent folk. It always comes back on you in the end.’

  Davidson responded in kind. ‘Well, my friend, sometimes a man has to be locked up for his own protection.’

  ‘True, true,’ Sam agreed. ‘And that’s why we have the law in this great land of ours.’

  Marie wasn’t so calm. In fact she looked pale with fury. ‘And maybe you’ll return my gun.’ she said.

  ‘Of course,’ Davidson replied. ‘Give the lady back her gun, Arnold. But take good care in case it goes off by mistake, which would be an awful pity, wouldn’t it?’

  Arnold gave a faint smirk as he handed the weapon back. Marie stuck it through her belt and mounted her horse.

  Jacob turned to Davidson. ‘Now, I warn you, Mr Davidson, we’re going to ride back to town nice and easy and there aren’t going to be any hitches, you hear me?’

  Davidson’s face twisted in a smug grin: ‘You don’t know what you’re doing here,’ he said. ‘You might as well have put your hand in a pit full of snakes!’

  ‘Well, I’ll just have to take my chance on that, won’t I?’ Jacob replied.

  When they were all mounted up, Davidson turned to the manservant and said, ‘Now remember what I told you, Arnold.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mr Davidson,’ Arnold replied. Jacob wondered what the manservant was being told to remember, but he didn’t press the point.

  They rode off in a stately cavalcade with Davidson in the lead like a lord leading his retinue, and Jacob and Running Deer just behind him, and Marie and Old Sam on his burro in the rear.

  It was some twenty miles to town, which shouldn’t have taken much more than an hour and half, assuming there were no interruptions. And after twenty minutes there was a major interruption: from their right a horse came trotting towards them with a man leaning forwards in the saddle. At first Jacob thought it might be Stringer, but then he saw it was Sheriff Olsen. Olsen was leaning so far forward in the saddle he was set to fall. How he had managed to stay on his horse was beyond belief.

  ‘Stay here,’ Jacob said to Running Deer, ‘and keep a weather eye on Davidson.’

  He trotted over to Olsen and dismounted. ‘So you’re still alive!’ he marvelled.

  Olsen opened one eye and peered down at Jacob and Jacob saw he had a mess of blood on his chest. ‘I thought maybe I could get back to town before I died,’ he said in a hoarse whisper.

  ‘Where are you hit?’ Jacob asked him.

  Olsen gritted his teeth and said, ‘Up in the left shoulder. I guess it broke my collar bone. It hurts awful bad, I think I passed out but somehow I still kept on my horse.’

  ‘You think you can dismount?’ Jacob asked him.

  Olsen grunted. ‘If I get off this horse I shall never get back on again.’

  Jacob mounted up. ‘Let me take a look at that wound.’ He leaned over Olsen and examined his shoulder. ‘Well, there’s good news and bad news,’ he said.

  ‘Just give me the good news,’ Olsen croaked.

  ‘The good news is I think the bullet passed right through.’

  ‘The bad news is I think I might bleed to death,’ Olsen said.

  Jacob looked at the others and saw Running Deer riding towards him. ‘Don’t worry about Davidson,’ Running Deer said. ‘Marie knows how to use that gun if needs be.’

  He drew close and examined Olsen’s shoulder. ‘Yeah, yeah,’ he murmured, ‘First thing we do is stop the bleeding.’ He produced a spare shirt from somewhere and made it into a pad. ‘Try to sit up a little and I’ll strap it to your body to stop the bleeding.’ He took Olsen by his good arm and helped him up a little. Olsen gritted his teeth to stop crying out. Running Deer then produced a small bottle of what looked like whiskey and poured some over the wound, and Olsen cried out in agony. ‘It might hurt but it should keep the wound clean,’ Running Deer told Olsen. Then he bound up the wound tight enough to staunch the flow of blood. ‘Now, if you ride slow and steady you should survive long enough to see your wife back in town. Just hold on to the saddle horn and I’ll lead you home.’

  ‘Thank you, Running Deer,’ the sheriff whispered hoarsely.

  Running Deer took the horse’s reins and they were ready to ride on.

  Jacob drew alongside Marie. ‘Well, whatever you might think of Olsen, you have to admire his grit. Not many hombres would have survived that shot. And he’s our ace in the hole. So we have to ride real gently back to town and hope he will survive.’

  ‘And that Stringer doesn’t turn tail and try to finish the job,’ Marie said.

  ‘My guess is we’ve seen the last of Stringer. Guys like that are brave when they have a gun in their hand and they’re shooting from cover, but out in the open they’re not quite so gutsy. And Stringer won’t be keen to swing for those murders either.’

  ‘You mean he’s going to get away with it?’ Marie said.

  Jacob held his head on one side. ‘Sooner or later someone or something will catch up with him. Some might call it Fate. Others might call it justice. Whatever it is, it will happen in the long run.’

  They rode on slowly but steadily towards town. Jack Davidson said nothing, though he had seen and heard everything.

  It was getting towards sundown when at last they saw the yellow and orange gleam from the windows as they approached town.

  ‘What do we do with Davidson?’ Marie asked Jacob.

  Jacob had been considering it all the way back to town. But the problem was solved immediately when Davidson turned in the saddle and said, ‘I aim to stay in the Grand hotel while I’m in town, which will only be for a few days, I promise you.’

  When they reached the outskirts of town there was hardly a soul around. Folk were either in their houses or gathered in the saloons. As they rode in they could hear the tinkle of a honky-tonk piano and the scrape off fiddle strings. As usual there were a few loungers hanging around, and one of them looked up and said, ‘Is that the sheriff I see?’

  Olsen made no reply. He was still struggling to stay in the saddle and keep himself steady.

  ‘Ride on to the sawbones,’ Jacob said. ‘We have to keep this man alive.’

  They rode straight to the town doctor’s house, which was somewhat grander than most of the other houses, and Jacob dismounted and rang the elaborately carved bell. After a minute or two the door was opened by the doctor himself. He looked straight at Olsen and gasped. ‘Why, Sheriff, you’ve been wounded!’

  Then suddenly Davidson spoke up. ‘Shot by a man who used to work for me, a guy called Stringer who went to the bad. Olsen’s taken a slug in the shoulder. Please do all you can to save him, at my expense, sir.’

  The doctor looked up at Olsen and Olsen opened one eye. ‘Please tell my wife I’m back,’ he said faintly.

  ‘The first thing is to get him off that horse without opening the wound,’ the doc said.

  Marie an
d Old Sam steadied the horse while Jacob and Running Deer, directed by the doctor, lifted Olsen down and carried him into the doctor’s surgery and laid him on a bed. Olsen groaned as they carried him in, but as soon as he was on the bed he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, and despite his pain, fell asleep.

  Jacob and the rest of the party rode on to the Grand hotel. Davidson dismounted and handed the reins to Hank, the boy, who was waiting outside the hotel.

  ‘Take this horse to the stable, boy, and make sure you look after him well because I’ll be staying for a few days.’ He stepped on to the sidewalk and turned in a somewhat masterful way. ‘I hope you know what you’ve done here,’ he said. ‘You guys are dead in your boots, and you don’t know it. So have a really good night’s sleep because you’re sure going to need it.’

  They went to Running Deer’s place, and Running Deer’s wife Sophie greeted her husband as though he’d been to hell and back and managed to come through. Running Deer gave her an account of all that had happened. She listened attentively. ‘You mean you’ve got Davidson in the lock-up?’

  ‘No, he’s staying in the Grand hotel.’

  Sophie’s eyes widened. ‘You mean the man who killed Beth and Stan Salinger is staying in the best hotel in town?’

  ‘Well, money can buy almost anything,’ Jacob said, ‘but he won’t be there for more than a day or two since the long arm of the law is reaching out to grab him. But right now we have to go over and give Mrs Olsen the good news that her husband’s still in the land of the living.’

  But Mrs Olsen wasn’t at home: she was right beside her husband’s bed holding his good hand. The doctor had given the sheriff a sleeping draught so he was well away in the land of dreams. Marie sat beside her and attempted to comfort her. Outside the room Jacob spoke to the doc.

  ‘You think he’ll live?’

  The doctor who had learned to be a profound pessimist held his head on one side. ‘Well, this man is strong but he’s lost a lot of blood. After a good night’s rest and a bowl of my wife’s rich soup, he could pull through. So why don’t you look in in the morning?’

  Jacob waited for Marie. Despite the hour, quite a crowd had gathered outside the surgery demanding to know what was happening. Among them was an eager young guy with a pad and pencil in hand. He was the local news-sheet owner. ‘Can you tell me what’s happening, sir?’

  Jacob said, ‘There isn’t much to say. Sheriff Olsen’s been shot, but we hope he will survive.’

  ‘Has this got something to do with the Salinger killings, sir?’

  Jacob smiled and shook his head. ‘I’m afraid we can’t comment on that for the moment.’

  The news-sheet owner was scribbling vigorously on his pad.

  Jacob and Marie walked across Main Street towards Marie’s cabin.

  ‘Tell me, Jacob, what are your intentions towards me?’ she asked.

  Jacob smiled. ‘Nothing but honourable, I can assure you.’

  Marie smiled back. ‘Then maybe you’ll be kind enough to step into the witch’s den and share a brew. I guess you must be tired after all that’s happened.’

  Jacob took off his Stetson and bowed, ‘I’d be glad to, ma’am. But first I have a small visit to make.’

  ‘And what would that be, sir?’

  ‘I think I’d better look in on the town jail and make sure a certain prisoner by the name of Killop is safe and sound.’

  On the way to the jail he met Running Deer and another man: ‘This here is Steve Tyler,’ Running Deer introduced, ‘Steve is Sheriff Olsen’s deputy.’

  Tyler stretched out his hand. ‘I’m right pleased to meet you, sir. Glad to report the prisoner is good and safe, and we’ve been feeding him up good at the town’s expense while you’ve been away. How’s the sheriff? I hear he’s been shot.’

  ‘Shot in the shoulder,’ Running Deer said. ‘There’s a good chance he’ll pull through.’

  ‘That’s good to hear,’ Tyler said. ‘He’s a good man, and a right good friend. He didn’t deserve to be shot.’

  ‘Well, I hope Killop isn’t sleeping right now,’ Jacob said, ‘because I aim to look in and give him the gladsome tidings.’

  Killop was sitting on his cot looking none too pleased. ‘What’s happening?’ he asked when he saw Jacob. ‘I heard the sheriff’s been shot.’

  ‘I’m afraid you heard right,’ Jacob said. ‘And Jack Davidson is holed up in the Grand hotel, at his own expense.’

  Killop looked somewhat uneasy, ‘Given the chance, Davidson will have me killed.’

  Jacob nodded sagaciously. ‘He’ll be a damned fool if he does. Right now he’ll be figuring out how he can hire the best lawyer in the county. Tomorrow morning early I’ll be over to talk to you. So I hope you’ll be good and ready.’

  Running Deer gave Jacob a sly smile. ‘I guess I know where you’ll be staying the night, my friend.’

  ‘And I guess you could be right, ’ Jacob said.

  ‘Well, don’t wear yourself out,’ Running Deer said, ‘because you’re gonna be awful busy tomorrow. Old Sam has gone to pick up his beloved wagon. I guess he’ll be sleeping there tonight, dreaming of the heavenly spheres.’

  When Jacob stepped into Marie’s cabin, he saw she had changed out of her range clothes into a more feminine outfit, and there was a hint of sweet perfume wafting in the air. Jacob had been exhausted, but he soon felt the blood beginning to pulse through his veins.

  ‘Sit down and eat,’ Marie invited.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Jacob said. He took Marie into his arms and they kissed, and their kiss lasted so long they forgot that the food might be getting cold.

  ‘If you’re a witch then I’m a wizard,’ he whispered when they broke away.

  ‘In that case we’ll climb on to our magic carpet and ride away together,’ she murmured.

  They woke to the sound of cock crow. ‘Are you ready for breakfast?’ Marie asked him.

  ‘I could eat a whole herd of buffalo with a few deer thrown in,’ he said.

  ‘Well, you’ll have to be content with eggs and ham. Sophie’s just brought over a whole chunk of ham. She has an ice box where she keeps all kinds of food.’

  They sat across the table from one another and ate.

  ‘So how do we figure out the day?’ she asked him.

  Jacob looked thoughtful. ‘Well, there are two things we need to take into account,’ he said.

  ‘And what would they be?’

  ‘First, how we’re going to bring Jack Davidson to justice.’

  ‘And the second? ‘

  They were both smiling.

  ‘How and when we’re going to make respectable folk of ourselves. And that’s not the order of preference, by the way; that’s the order of necessity.’

  Jacob strapped on his gunbelt and walked down to the town jail where Killop was having his chow, watched over by Deputy Sheriff Jim Tyler.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Merriweather,’ the deputy greeted.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Tyler. D’you mind if I have a few words with Mr Killop here?’

  ‘Not at all, sir. I’ll just step across and see how Sheriff Olsen is doing.’

  Jacob sat down with Killop in his cell. ‘Like I said, we need to have a talk,’ Jacob said.

  ‘I know that,’ Killop acknowledged. Though he looked kind of wary, there was a gleam of determination in his eye.

  Jacob paused for a moment. ‘This is a big thing you’re doing. When the time comes you must take the stand and tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.’

  ‘I know the truth,’ Killop said, ‘Jack Davidson paid four of us to kill those young people, but when it came to it I couldn’t go through with it.’

  ‘So you took the money and split?’

  Killop frowned. ‘That’s the truth, Mr Merriweather. I’m not proud of taking the money, but I’m glad I had no part in killing those innocent kids.’

  Jacob nodded. ‘I guess you know all those killers have paid with their lives. Th
at is, except Stringer who shot Sheriff Olsen. But my guess is Stringer has ridden off some place and we may never see him again.’

  Killop grimaced. ‘Stringer’s as slippery as a jack fish, so I wouldn’t count on that.’

  Jacob nodded again. ‘So are you ready to stand up in court and testify that you were there when your buddies shot down those innocent young people?’

  Killop twisted his face in a frown. ‘Just as long as it’s clear that I didn’t have any part in that killing.’

  Jacob jotted down a note on his notepad. ‘OK, Mr Killop. Enjoy your breakfast. I’ll talk to you again later.’

  Jacob walked across Main Street to the doctor’s surgery.

  ‘How’s the patient?’ he asked the doctor.

  ‘Well, he’s made of tough rawhide, so I think he’ll survive for a while longer. His wife’s with him right now, together with Deputy Tyler. They’re having a good old confabulation about the future. But we don’t want to tire him out, so maybe you should wait for a while.’

  Jacob sat in the outer room twiddling his thumbs impatiently and watching the minutes tick inexorably by.

  When he went into the sick room Sheriff Olsen was sitting up with his left arm bound up, but looking wide awake and eager.

  ‘So,’ he smiled, ‘I guess I have to thank you for saving my life, Mr Merriweather.’

  ‘Well, Running Deer did most of the saving, but I’m glad we got you home in time, no thanks to that guy Stringer who thought he had shot you dead. I guess you know your friend Jack Davidson is living it up in the Grand hotel right now?’

  Olsen gave a mournful grin. ‘I used to count Davidson among my friends, but I think I might need to strike him off my Christmas card list now.’

  ‘That could be a wise decision,’ Jacob agreed. ‘I don’t think the Devil appreciates Christmas cards that much, anyway. But whatever you think of Davidson, I guess you should prepare yourself for a visit.’

  Olsen gave a faint nod. ‘Jack Davidson is a tough and cunning hombre, Mr Merriweather, and I think you should be aware of that. But don’t worry. I’ve asked Deputy Tyler to send a wire through to the county judge. He’ll set things in motion for a trial. But I should warn you, Jack Davidson has a lot of friends and a great deal of influence, and he has enough money to hire the best lawyers. So you have a tough fight on your hands. And if you lose, you might be in the shit right up to your neck or maybe higher.’