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Wanted: A Western Story Collection

Page 7

by Robert J. Thomas


  “The thought occurred to me.”

  “We were here all night,” I said, and added, “But, we did have some company.”

  “Company?”

  “Sure. Two fellows rode up, had some coffee, and rode on,” I said, and I gestured to the north. “They rode that way. I’m sure you’ll find their tracks.”

  The sheriff smiled at that but didn’t move.

  “Sure, and while we’re looking for these tracks, you two can get away,” he said.

  “We’ll even help you look,” I encouraged.

  “I have a better idea,” he said.

  “What’s that?”

  “We have a witness back in town. We’ll let her decide if you’re guilty or not.”

  “And if we don’t come along?” I asked.

  “We’ll shoot you.”

  I frowned at that.

  “You just sorta limited our options,” I said, and added, “But that’s fine with us. We were planning on stopping in town.”

  The sheriff nodded as he studied our wagon.

  “What’s in the back?” He asked.

  I hesitated, but then told him.

  “And why do you two have a mirror?” He wanted to know.

  “We like looking at ourselves,” I said.

  The sheriff grunted at that.

  “Mind if we take a look?”

  “We’ve nothing to hide.”

  The sheriff turned to one of his men.

  “Go ahead,” he said.

  A tall, thin man dismounted. He walked to the back of the wagon and climbed in, and Brian and I winced as the wagon rocked back and forth.

  “Easy,” I warned.

  A long minute passed, and then he climbed out.

  “Look what I found,” he said in a low, curt voice.

  He had drawn his Colt, and it was aimed at us. In his other hand was a canvas bag, and it was full of money.

  “Lord, have mercy,” I heard Brian pray softly.

  Chapter nine

  “How did that get in there?” I was startled.

  Everyone had drawn their Colts, and they were all aimed at us.

  “Murderers,” the sheriff growled, and his companions nodded in agreement. “Where’s the rest of it?”

  I glanced at Brian, swallowed hard, and looked back at the sheriff.

  “Hold on now,” I said. “We didn’t kill anybody.”

  “How do you explain that bag of cash?”

  “Old Chisel Whiskers must’ve put it in there,” I replied. “He probably hoped to throw you off their trail.”

  “Who?”

  “He’s one of the men who rode up to our camp last night,” I explained.

  The sheriff didn’t look convinced as he glanced at the man holding the bag of cash.

  “Disarm them, and then we’d best get to town,” he said.

  The thin man nodded. He placed the bag of cash on the ground and walked towards us.

  “Watch them now,” the sheriff told everybody else. “If they move a muscle, kill them.”

  We moved no muscles as the thin man disarmed us and stepped back.

  “Half of you ride behind the wagon,” the sheriff ordered, and then he looked at us. “We’ll ride to town now. You try to run, and we’ll kill you.”

  “We won’t run,” I said. “We’re anxious to see this witness.”

  The sheriff grunted, turned his horse, and rode out.

  We had no choice but to follow.

  Chapter ten

  Town was a small, shabby gathering of some two-dozen buildings. There was a general store, a hotel, a doctor’s office, a blacksmith shop, a few livery stables, and a small sheriff’s office. At the end of town were some pole corrals for cattle.

  The sheriff pulled up in front of the jail.

  “Go get Maggie,” he told the thin man.

  While we waited, the sheriff told us to get down. We tied our horses to the hitching rail and stepped up onto the porch.

  There was a stirring of folks down the street, and we could see the thin man leading an older lady down the sidewalk. About a dozen on-lookers followed.

  As they drew close, I heard Brian suck in air. I glanced at him, and his face was suddenly pale and chalky.

  I frowned at him and turned to face the gathering crowd.

  “I want you to look carefully,” the sheriff told Maggie. “Do you recognize these men?”

  I guessed Maggie to be in her mid-fifties. She was small, a little round, and had gray hair. However, she was aging gracefully, and I could see a hint of youth in her face.

  First, she looked at me.

  I watched her eyes, and there was no recognition in them as she studied me long and hard.

  I started to breath a sigh of relief as she turned to Brian.

  Suddenly, as if somebody had slapped her, her eyes grew wide, and her hand flew to her mouth. She took a stumbling step backwards and almost fell down.

  “Are you all right?” The sheriff rushed to Maggie’s side.

  She didn’t reply as she stared wild-eyed at Brian.

  “Do you recognize that man?” The sheriff urged.

  She nodded, and my heart sank.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” she said numbly, and added, “I don’t feel well. I need rest.”

  Then she turned and hurried down the street.

  Chapter eleven

  “Lock ’em up,” the sheriff’s voice was hard.

  “What for?” Someone in the crowd spoke up. “Let’s hang them now!”

  Hatred was in their faces as they glared at us, and I took a small step back.

  “No,” the sheriff replied firmly. “Not in my town. We’ll hold a trial first.”

  The crowd didn’t like that, and they murmured their displeasure.

  The sheriff ignored them as he and his deputies escorted us inside the jail. He shut the door and bolted it, and then he gestured for us to walk to the back.

  There were only two cells, and both were empty. The sheriff placed us in the closest, and I jumped as he slammed the door.

  “We’ll feed you in a bit,” the sheriff said, and he glanced at the thin man. “Watch them,” he said.

  The thin man nodded.

  “I’ll talk to the judge,” the sheriff continued. “We’ll hold their trial first thing in the morning. If it doesn’t take long, we can hang them tomorrow afternoon.”

  Everything had happened so fast, I was sorta in a daze. However, as soon as I heard the word ‘hang’, I snapped out of it.

  “Hold on,” I called after the sheriff. “We’d like to send for Judge Parker. He’s at Midway.”

  “No need for that,” the sheriff replied. “We have our own judge.”

  “Is he a legal judge?”

  “He’s legal enough.”

  “What’s going to happen to our wagon?” I demanded.

  “It’s not going anywhere. We’ll notify your closest kin, and they can pick it up later.”

  “This is all a huge mistake,” I tried again. “I’d like to talk to Maggie. She must be confused.”

  “You can, at the trial.”

  I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly while the sheriff unbolted the door and walked out.

  The thin man closed the door behind him, sat behind the desk, threw his feet up, and promptly went to sleep.

  I turned to Brian. He was just standing there, and his face was still pale.

  “What’s the matter with you?” I growled. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

  Brian licked his lips and nodded.

  “I did,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  “What?” I frowned at him.

  “Maggie,” he whispered.

  “What about her?”

  “She’s my ex-wife.”

  Chapter twelve

  To say I was startled was an understatement. I took a few steps backwards, tripped, and landed on the bunk in the corner.

  “Maggie is your wife?” I hissed.

 
“Ex-wife.”

  “Whatever,” I said as I tried to think. “Why’d she lie?”

  “She didn’t,” Brian pointed out. “The sheriff wanted to know if she recognized me, and she said she did.”

  “And now everybody thinks we’re bank robbers and killed a fellow,” I reminded. “We’ve got to talk to her.”

  “I don’t think she’d like that.”

  “But we’ve got to make everyone understand,” I protested.

  “You’re the one who doesn’t understand,” Brian said, his face glum.

  “Enlighten me. Please.”

  “Maggie said she would kill me if she ever saw my face again,” Brian explained.

  “Just how mad was she?” I pinched my face in displeasure.

  “Mad.”

  “It’s been twenty years!” I protested. “Surely she’s softened her stance just a little bit.”

  “You don’t know Maggie.”

  “You think she’s doing this on purpose?”

  “It’s possible.”

  I sighed and shook my head as I thought on that.

  “Those fond memories of yours are going to get us killed,” I said sourly.

  Chapter thirteen

  There was nothing to do but stretch out on our bunks. I thought over our situation again, and I came to the conclusion that we were in trouble.

  An hour passed, and we heard a knock at the main door.

  “Who is it?” The thin man said as he bolted awake.

  “Food for the prisoners,” a female voice said.

  The thin man moved to the door and unbolted it. Maggie came in, holding a basket covered with a towel, and the thin man shut and bolted the door behind her.

  “I’ll wait until they’ve finished,” she said.

  “Fine by me,” the thin man shrugged, and he sat back down and threw his feet up on the desk.

  Maggie walked back to our cell, and she didn’t say a word as she passed us the food through the opening of the cell.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” I said.

  Maggie nodded, and then she stared at Brian. Brian stared back, and several seconds passed.

  “It really is you,” she said, almost in a whisper.

  “It’s me, Maggie,” Brian said, and added gently, “It’s been a long time.”

  “It has.”

  “Miss me?”

  “Only occasionally,” she replied, and some strength returned to her face. “It was a great shock, seeing you again. I reckon I panicked.”

  “So, you know we’re not the bank robbers,” I couldn’t help but say.

  “I know.”

  A look of relief passed over my face.

  “That’s wonderful,” I said, and added, “You’ll tell the sheriff?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “I beg your pardon?” I narrowed my eyes.

  “I haven’t decided,” she said, and her eyes returned to Brian.

  “But Maggie,” I protested. “Just in case you didn’t realize, our very lives depend on it.”

  “I realize.”

  Before I could reply, she turned abruptly and walked back to the front.

  “I changed my mind,” she told the thin man. “You can send me their plates later.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the thin man jumped to his feet, unbolted the door, and opened it.

  “And be careful with those plates,” she warned. “It’s a matching set, and I’ve had them a long time.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the thin man repeated.

  As soon as Maggie was gone, the thin man bolted the door, sat back down, and promptly went back asleep.

  “He goes to sleep faster than you,” I scowled as I turned to Brian. A few seconds passed, and I hissed, “Why didn’t you say something to Maggie?”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. She’s your wife. You should have romanced her. Told her you still have feelings for her. Anything!”

  “Romance never did work much with Maggie,” Brian objected.

  “You’re hopeless,” I sighed.

  Chapter fourteen

  It was a long afternoon, and the night wasn’t much better. I didn’t sleep much, but Brian and the thin man snored in unison and in the same key.

  As it was getting daylight, I sat up and looked out the window. Brian finally stirred a few minutes later, and he sat up, blinked, and looked at me.

  “Morning,” he mumbled.

  “Brian,” I said.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Been doing some serious thinking.”

  “It’s about time,” Brian said, and asked, “Come up with anything?”

  “I was just thinking how nice it’d be if Old Chisel Whiskers and The Silent One rode into town and confessed.”

  “That’d be pleasant. See ’em yet?”

  “Surprisingly, no.”

  “Well, mebbe they’ll be along.”

  I smiled faintly and nodded.

  There was a knock at the door, and the thin man’s feet hit the floor as he awakened. He bolted to his feet and moved to the door.

  “Who is it?”

  “Breakfast for the prisoners,” Maggie’s voice called out.

  He unbolted the door, and Maggie and the sheriff walked in.

  “Sleep well?” The sheriff asked us as he and Maggie walked over to our cell.

  “Wonderful,” I said.

  I tried to smile at Maggie, but she wouldn’t look at me as she passed us the basket through the opening.

  “Best hurry up and eat,” the sheriff said. “Trial starts in an hour.”

  “Oh boy,” I said sarcastically. “Can’t wait.”

  I pulled back the towel and looked down into the basket.

  “Scrambled eggs?” I asked as I studied the two plates.

  “Egg,” Maggie corrected. “You both only get one.”

  “That’s mighty generous,” I said.

  “Leave the plates in the basket when you’ve finished,” Maggie said. “I’ve got to get ready for the trial.”

  “You don’t want to stay and talk?” I asked.

  “I do not,” she growled, and then she glanced at the sheriff. “Will you escort me back, please?”

  “Of course,” the sheriff said, and he took her by the arm and led her out.

  As soon as they were gone, the thin man shut and bolted the door, sat, and threw his feet up on the desk. He started snoring as I handed Brian his plate.

  I set the basket on my bunk, and I jumped when I grabbed my plate.

  “What is it?” Brian looked curious.

  “Underneath my plate,” I hissed. “It’s a key, and a note.”

  “From who?”

  “I’m about to find out.”

  I took a quick glance at the thin man. He was still snoring away, so I grabbed the note and unfolded it.

  I cleared my voice and read in hushed voice.

  “Wait half an hour, then come out the back door. I found your saddles, and I’ll leave two saddled horses outside. Leave and don’t come back.”

  I cleared my voice and continued.

  “You might be wondering why I’m doing this. The answer is simple. I don’t want our son to hang his own Pa. Maggie.”

  I folded the note and looked at Brian, and he looked completely dumbfounded.

  “The sheriff,” he said in awe. “He must be my boy!”

  “Looks like it,” I agreed.

  “I had no idea!” He exclaimed. “I’ve got to talk to him.”

  “You stay if you want, but I’m getting outta here,” I said.

  “I just can’t believe this,” Brian said, obviously still in shock. “So much has happened!”

  “And if we don’t get out of here,” I reminded, “a lot more will happen.”

  “But I can’t leave without talking to my son!” Brian objected.

  “Sure you can,” I replied. “I’ll help.”

  “How are we going to get past him?” Brian gestured at the sleeping thin man.
r />   I almost laughed.

  “Quite easily,” I said.

  Chapter fifteen

  Half an hour can seem like an eternity, especially for someone waiting to escape from jail.

  Brian and I sat on our bunks, and we counted the time silently in our heads.

  “Let me see that note,” Brian said after a while.

  I handed it over.

  He unfolded it, and his lips moved as he read it. He smiled, folded it carefully, and placed it in his shirt pocket.

  “Did I miss anything?” I asked sarcastically.

  “No, it said the same things you said. I just wanted to read it again.”

  I grunted and stood.

  “It’s time,” I whispered.

  I moved to the cell door, and Brian followed.

  Being as quiet as possible, I inserted the key and ground it back. The cell door opened, and I felt a small thrill of excitement.

  I grabbed our breakfast plates as we left our cell. Brian shot me a questioning look, but I made a motion to be quiet. Then, firmly holding the plates high in the air with both hands, I tip toed toward the sleeping thin man.

  It only took me a few steps to come up directly behind him. I counted silently to three, and then, with all my might, I swung down with the plates.

  I connected hard, and the plates exploded on top of the thin man’s head.

  He never knew what hit him. A loud groan came from his lips as he slumped and fell out of the chair.

  I bent over and checked on him.

  “Out cold!” I announced with triumph. I turned to Brian and beamed, “You have my permission to be impressed.”

  “You broke Maggie’s dishes!” Brian accused.

  “She’ll get over it,” I replied.

  Brian scowled, but I ignored him as I hurried over to the gun cabinet. As I had hoped, our rifles and Colts were there. I passed Brian his, and then I strapped on my gun belt.

  “Let’s go,” I said as I moved to the back door.

  Sunlight spilled into the jail when I unbolted and opened the door, and my eyes squinted at the brightness.

  I took a quick peek outside, and I spotted two saddled horses, tied to the corner of the jail. Other than that, the alley looked empty.

 

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