Medicine Bundle

by Patrick E. Andrews

  Mildred was still fatigued from her ordeal, but she was recovering rapidly due to a naturally strong constitution inherited from female Indian ancestors. She’d not suffered any more nausea as her appetite increased, and she was able to sleep reasonably well at night despite worrying about her husband. She was relieved by the news he was still alive, but upset about his descent into a life of outlawry, while lying to her about his activities.

  The front door opened and Fionna came out on the porch, pausing to take a first look at her daughter-in-law. She smiled with tears in her eyes. Rebecca spoke to Mildred, saying, “This is Silsby’s and my ma.”

  Fionna walked down the steps and embraced Mildred. “We’re so happy to have you come stay with us.”

  “I’m glad to be here,” Mildred replied. She felt a solid comfort and solace with her mother-in-law’s arms around her. Embraces had been rare in her upbringing, and the one she had gotten from Rebecca when they met at Doctor Sawyer’s house in Woodward was something she had needed badly. This second one was like icing on the cake.

  Fionna slipped her arm around Mildred’s waist, saying, “Let’s go into the house. You must be tired from your trip, darling.”

  “It was exciting though,” Mildred said. “I never rode on a train before.” She laughed shyly. “It went so fast I was afraid we might tip over. I reckon I’m a silly girl.”

  “I ain’t ever rode on a train,” Fionna said. “But if’n I ever did, I’d want ’em to go nice and slow.”

  The group moved through the front door into the parlor. “We’ll eat supper here this evening,” Rebecca announced. “Then Mildred can go home with pa and ma.”

  Fionna increased the pressure of her arm around Mildred. “We got a room set up for you out at the farm, honey.”

  “I don’t want to be no trouble.”

  “It ain’t no trouble for family.”

  Grant set Mildred’s carpetbag by the door at the same time that Luther stepped into the parlor from the kitchen. “This is Silsby’s pa,” Fionna said.

  He greeted his daughter-in-law exactly as Fionna had instructed him. “We’re happy to have you with us.”

  “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. McCracken,” Mildred said, feeling a bit uneasy about Luther because of what Silsby had said about him. But he seemed pleasant enough at the moment, and she treated him to a slight smile.

  “Now you call him Pa,” Fionna said. “And I’m Ma. You’ve come home, darling girl. That’s how we want you to feel. You’re with folks that care about you.”

  “Thank you kindly.”

  “Let’s sit down and rest a bit,” Rebecca said.

  “I made some coffee and they’s some biscuits and jelly,” Fionna said. “I’ll go into the kitchen and fetch ’em.” She left to tend to the refreshments while Rebecca and Mildred settled together on the couch. Luther and Grant each took a chair, remaining silent with the instinctive feeling that the day’s happenings were wholly under the control of the women of the family.

  “Grant will let your folks know you’re over here the first chance he gets,” Rebecca said. “That’s important, no matter what.” Mildred had already explained that she was forbidden to return to her parents’ place.

  When Fionna came in with the serving tray, she sat it on a side table and poured out cups of coffee. Rebecca helped her serve, then everyone settled down to continue to get acquainted. Fionna could no longer contain herself. “How’s Silsby, dear?”

  Grant interjected, “I didn’t quite know how to tell you, but we have some bad news.”

  Fionna abruptly stood up, clasping her hands to her breast. “Has something happened to my boy?”

  Mildred blurted, “Him and his friends went to rob the bank in Clarkville and one got kilt.”

  “Oh my Lord!” Fionna cried.

  “It wasn’t Silsby who was killed,” Grant said. “It was his friend Tommy Chatsworth.”

  Now Luther was on his feet beside Fionna, looking intently at Grant. “But how do you know that Silsby was in on that robbery?”.

  “The bandits were masked, but the tellers and the people in the bank gave a description of heights and builds,” Grant explained. “They matched Silsby and his two friends Charlie Ainsley and Dennis Nettles. They’re known to be companions of the dead boy.”

  “I remember that young Ainsley feller,” Luther said. “We had a couple of run-ins with him and Harknell.”

  “Surely we can put things right,” Fionna said.

  “O’course,” Luther said, sitting down again. “They didn’t get no money.”

  Mildred gave Grant a pleading look. “Can you help Silsby?”

  “I’ll do everything in my power for him,” Grant promised.

  “We was all going to Mexico to buy a ranch,” Mildred said. “I thought they was gonna get some money herding cattle for a man in Wichita. But I learnt they was gonna rob the Clarkville bank.” She decided not to mention Belle LaTour. “Then I got sick and lost the baby.” She looked again at Fionna. “But the doctor said I can have others.”

  “Thank the good Lord for his mercy,” Fionna said.

  Luther finished his coffee. “It’s looks like they’s a load of work on Grant’s shoulders in this situation.”

  “The first thing I must do is find him,” Grant said. He swung his eyes to Mildred. “Are you sure you have no idea where they might have gone?”

  Mildred shook her head. “Not unless they went to Kensaw.”

  “We know for sure they didn’t go near the place,” Grant said.

  Fionna asked, “What do you think is the best thing to be did, Grant?”

  “He’s got to turn himself in,” Grant said. “They didn’t kill anybody in Clarkville so they’re not wanted for murder. And since they didn’t get a dime I’m sure they’ll receive special consideration from the court.”

  Luther hung his head. “What’ve I done to my boy?”

  Fionna walked over and kissed him, putting an arm around his shoulders. “You didn’t do nothing, Pa.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” Grant said. “The situation can still be brought under control. I’ll talk to Lorenzo Markham and Nolan Sinclair. I’m certain they’ll be on our side in this thing. But we must find Silsby before anything else happens.”

  “What about them horses they stole?” Mildred asked.

  Grant’s eyes opened wide. “What horses?”

  “I was told they’d been stealing horses for a long time,” Mildred naively explained.

  Now Grant knew that Silsby had been involved in serious criminal activity over a long period of time. “I’m going to follow the maxim of ask no questions and hear no lies. Let’s not bring that subject up. Since there’s no evidence, Silsby can’t be charged unless his friends testify against him.”

  “They’d be fools to do that,” Luther said.

  “One of them might confess and inform on the others in order to get special treatment.”

  “Then to hell with his friends!” Luther exclaimed. “Let’s just work at finding Silsby. Them others can go off on their own.”

  “I’m a sworn Federal law officer, Luther,” Grant reminded him and the others. “If I’m able to apprehend them, that’s what I’ll have to do.”

  “This is family, Grant,” Luther said.

  Rebecca pleaded, “Pa! Don’t make it harder for him.”

  “You’re right,” Luther relented. “I’m sorry, Grant.”

  “I must see to it that I’m assigned to the case,” Grant said. He gave Mildred an anxious look. “I have to ask you again, Mildred. Are you sure you can’t tell me where they’ve gone? Think about it. Did any of them ever mention any place in particular?”

  Mildred shook her head. “I don’t know nothing. Silsby never let me know what him and the others was up to.”

  “If you do happen to remember anything, tell me as quickly as you can,” Grant urged. “I’m going down to the office right now and talk to Markham and Nolan.”

  ~*~
/>
  When Grant walked into the district attorney’s office he went straight to Nolan Sinclair, who was seated at his desk. “Is Markham in today?” Grant asked.

  Sinclair shook his head. “He’s meeting with some fellers from Guthrie over to city hall. I think our boss is planning on getting into territorial politics. Densberg went with him, and Miss Sarah is picking up the mail.”

  Sarah Mullins, the spinster who had become the office stenographer, had proven herself to be more than just an efficient secretary. Her prim, near severe appearance belied a lively sense of humor and interest in other people. District Attorney Markham, the two marshals, and even Lionel Densberg had learned to respect and like her a great deal. She was now addressed by the more familiar and friendlier “Miss Sarah” rather than “Miss Mullins.”

  “I’m glad we’re the only ones here,” Grant said. “I need to have a private talk with you.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “It’s just as we thought,” Grant said. “When you identified that kid Chatsworth and the witnesses described his companions, we suspected they had to be Silsby McCracken, Charlie Ainsley, and Dennis Nettles.”

  “Yeah,” Sinclair said. “Arky Bob gave strong hints of a big job them four were gonna pull from what Nettles and Chatsworth told him in Kensaw.”

  Grant hesitated then said, “Silsby’s wife Mildred just told us all about it.” He quickly added, “But she had no prior knowledge of the bank robbery. She thought they were going on an honest cattle-driving job.”

  “You just remember you’re a Fed’ral officer, Grant,” Sinclair said in a warning tone. “Family or not.”

  “Don’t worry,” Grant said. “Everybody agrees that the best thing for Silsby is to turn himself in.”

  “That’s good,” Sinclair said, relieved.

  “By the way is Arky Bob still in Medicine Bundle?”

  “Yeah,” Sinclair said. “But he’s spent all the money he got from selling hogs hereabouts, so he’ll be headed back to Kensaw directly.”

  “All right,” Grant said. “I might use him to spread some information around that area.”

  “Just let me in on whatever you tell him.”

  “Sure, Nolan,” Grant said. “And I want to ask a favor of you. When we bring Silsby in, I would like for you to speak up for him in court. You know the family. And that includes me.”

  “Sure I will,” Sinclair said. “I’ve spoke up a couple of times for fellers I knowed that was under charges.”

  “They didn’t kill anyone and the bank still has its money,” Grant said. “A good lawyer could make a lot out of that. They’re young, inexperienced kids. And don’t forget Silsby is married now and could take up farming with his father.”

  “And that would count for a lot,” Sinclair agreed.

  “Mildred had a miscarriage from being so upset about everything,” Grant added. “That’s another incentive for a judge to show leniency.”

  “We still got to find ’em,” Sinclair said. “Then you got to talk ’em into surrendering. If Silsby has turned into a real hard case, he might decide it’s worth it to shoot it out if he can get clean away. That might seem better’n a couple of years in the penitentiary to him.”

  “I’m willing to take that chance,” Grant said. He gave the other lawman a hard look. “What about you?”

  “That’s a judgment I’ll make at the right time,” Sinclair said. “If Silsby or any of his pards throw lead my way, I’ll shoot to kill. They’re just a bunch of dumb cowboys, and there’s a whole lot more just like ’em out there making bad decisions.”

  “Maybe losing their pal rehabilitated Silsby and his cohorts,” Grant said hopefully.

  “Or made ’em meaner.”

  “I don’t want the McCrackens to have their hearts broken,” Grant said. His tone of voice was almost a warning.

  “It’s just like I said,” Sinclair reiterated. “I’ll make any judgments when I’m standing face-to-face with ’em. If the boys want to throw down their irons and give up, then I’ll be square by ’em. But if they even look like they might resist, I’m gonna figger the worstest is about to happen. I don’t give no benefits of the doubt at times like ‘at.”

  “It could be a very difficult situation,” Grant admitted. “But I hope not.”

  “Me too.”

  The door opened and Sarah Mullins entered the office with a bundle of mail. She was surprised to see Grant. “Did you and your wife fetch your sister-in-law home, Marshal Hollings?”

  “We sure did, Miss Sarah,” Grant answered. “She’s visiting at our place until after supper. Then she’ll go out to the McCracken farm to live with them until Silsby comes back.”

  “How is the young lady feeling?” Miss Sarah asked. “It must have been terrible to lose her baby like that.”

  “She’s recovering nicely, thank you,” Grant said. “The doctor told her she would be able to have other children in the future.”

  “The Lord blesses us in many ways,” Miss Sarah said. She dropped a couple of personal letters on Densberg’s desk then went to her own workplace to record the official mail in the register.

  Grant and Sinclair settled back into their conversation regarding the three fugitives. They discussed all the options and possibilities of the case in low, earnest tones until another interruption occurred. The telegraph man from the railroad depot entered the office. “Got a wire for Mr. Markham,” he announced loudly.

  Sinclair asked, “Is it addressed to Markham by name or to the U.S. District Attorney?”

  “To the U.S. District —”

  “Give it here then,” Sinclair said.

  The messenger handed the missive to Sinclair and made a quick departure to get back to his job. He had learned that dealing with the marshal was not a particularly pleasant experience.

  Sinclair ripped open the envelope. After reading it, he glanced over at Grant. “It looks like we’ll have to wait a bit before we can attend to Silsby McCracken and his friends.”

  “Now what?” Grant asked irritably.

  “Marshal Nix has ordered us to escort the army payroll from Vinita down to Fort Gibson,” Sinclair said. “We’ll have us a nice ride in the baggage car.”

  “When do we leave?” Grant asked.

  “Right away,” Sinclair answered. “But you’ve got time to go home first. I’ll meet you back here in an hour.”

  “All right,” Grant said, getting up. He walked to the door and paused by Miss Sarah’s desk. “If Arky Bob drops by would you tell him that Silsby McCracken’s wife is with his folks and living on their farm near Medicine Bundle?”

  “I certainly will, Marshal Hollings.”

  Sinclair called over to Miss Sarah. “Tell him to spread the word around Kensaw.”

  “Certainly,” Miss Sarah said, writing herself a note.

  “I’ll see you in an hour,” Grant said, leaving the office.

  Sinclair went to fetch the saddlebags he kept under his desk.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Silsby McCracken peered upward through the tree branches at the darkening sky. He sat on the ground, leaning against the thick trunk of a tree in the small stretch of woods, gripping the reins of his horse.

  Charlie Ainsley and Dennis Nettles were nearby in the copse. Jack O’Reilly had tied his mount to a cottonwood, and stood concealed behind some tall shrubbery just past the tree line. He had a good view of the small Santa Fe depot building below.

  “What do you see down there, Jack?” Charlie asked.

  “The night clerk’s woman just brung him his supper in a basket,” O’Reilly replied. “She’s went back to the house over yonder.”

  “The sun’s gonna set in another twenty or thirty minutes,” Silsby remarked.

  “We won’t be going down there for a bit,” O’Reilly said.

  “What if the train’s early?” Charlie asked.

  “Then the engineer’s gonna wait here a bit,” O’Reilly explained. “He’s supposed to pull out at a cert
ain time and hit the Fort Gibson junction at ten o’clock. If he starts showing up early at stations, he’ll miss passengers and freight. It’s best for the railroad to be a tad late so ever’body that wants to meet a train can make it.”

  Silsby laughed nervously. “That includes us.”

  “Right,” O’Reilly replied with a soft chuckle.

  Charlie Ainsley, chaffing because he wasn’t in charge, asked, “Is ever’body sure of what they got to do?”

  “They ain’t a hell of a lot to it, Charlie,” Dennis said.

  “Then what’s your job?”

  “After me and Jack and you go down and sneak into the depot, we throw down on the station clerk and tie him up. Then you go to where you’re gonna go while me and Jack wait for the train to come in,” Dennis said. “Then we go to the baggage car and make the clerks inside open up. We get the payroll and come out. Then we ride away with all that money.”

  “What about you, Silsby?” Charlie asked.

  “I stick by the horses and make sure they don’t run off,” Silsby said. “I’m a wrangler again, ain’t I? That ain’t exactly the most important job in this here stick up.”

  O’Reilly turned around and looked at him. “It sure as hell is. If they’s any shooting and them horses bolt, we’d be in a fine pickle, wouldn’t we?”

  “I’ll hang on to ’em, don’t worry,” Silsby said. “Hey, Charlie! What’s your job?”

  “After I help Jack and Dennis tie up the depot feller, I go and wait for the train. When it comes in, I jump up in the cab and guard the engineer and fireman to make sure they don’t make a run for it.”

  “You got to do that before me and Dennis get to the baggage car,” O’Reilly reminded him.

  “I’ll be there right off, don’t worry none.”

  “I reckon y’all can remember the way back to the cave, right?” O’Reilly asked.

  He had taken them to a place all his own in the hills where a small grotto with natural cover offered an excellent hiding place. If a passerby didn’t know the actual location, he would ride right past without seeing it.

  Silsby settled back again. He was in a better mood than he had been in for the past week. Now he was that much closer to getting back to Mildred. He couldn’t wait to see the expression on her face when he showed her his twelve and a half thousand dollar cut of the loot.