Wanted: A Western Story Collection

by Robert J. Thomas

  Morgan slowly dismounted and walked up the steps and onto the large porch that surrounded the house on all four sides. He followed Malvern along a hallway and into a very plush office. Malvern poured him a whiskey and set it down in front of him. He poured one for himself and sat down at his desk.

  “So, you’re willing to kill Jess Williams?”

  “I don’t see any money yet,” said Morgan as he sipped the whiskey. Malvern stared at him for a few seconds and then set his glass down.

  “Oh, the money,” he said excitedly as he spun around in his chair and turned the dial on his safe.

  He opened it, pulled out a stack of large bills, counted out twenty-five hundred dollars and slid it across the desk. Morgan picked it up, counted it and slipped in into the inside pocket of his jacket.

  “Yes,” said Morgan. “And I expect to get paid the other half as soon as the deed is done.”

  “Of course. As you can see, I have the money right here.”

  “I’ll be staying at the hotel in town.”

  “I have nice rooms available upstairs if you’d like.”

  “No thanks. I prefer to stay alone.”

  “All right, whatever you wish.”

  Morgan stood, shook hands with him and walked out, with Malvern following right behind. He climbed back up in the saddle, turned his horse around and rode away without saying another word. Malvern silently watched him until he was completely out of sight.

  Morgan rode into Pelston in the afternoon. He stabled his horse and walked to the hotel carrying his things, which consisted of his Spenser repeating rifle and a leather valise that contained all the things he needed to clean his Navy Colt. He checked in and ate at the café. Juanita didn’t know who he was, but she could tell what he was just by watching him. She watched him pay his bill and walk back up the stairs to his room.

  “He’s not just passing through; he’s here for a reason,” she whispered to herself.

  Morgan went to his room and sat down at the table. He removed his Navy Colt, unloaded it and set it down. He picked up his valise and pulled out his tools and cleaning items and placed them on the table in the correct order. Then, he started meticulously dismantling his pistol, piece by piece, wiping and oiling every part before putting it all back together again. He pulled the hammer back and listened to the clicks and smiled. He reloaded the pistol, slid it back into his holster and walked to the bed. He hung the gun and holster on the bedpost where he could easily reach it. He removed his clothing and placed the items carefully on a chair and went to sleep.

  ***

  The next morning found Jess and Bodine riding into town. When they reached the jail, they saw that the door was unlocked. They slid from the saddle and Bodine pulled his pistol out as a precaution. When he pushed the door all the way open, he peered inside to see Juanita pushing plates of food under the bars to Reid and Burke. She was startled and stood up quickly.

  “Oh, my! You scared the wits out of me,” she said.

  “Sorry, just being careful,” explained Bodine as he holstered his pistol. Juanita looked at Jess, who was holstering his pistol and pushing the hammer strap back on.

  “You might want to leave that off,” she told him as she looked at the heavy hammer strap.

  “Why?”

  “A man came into town yesterday and I don’t think he’s here by accident.”

  “What makes you say that?” asked Bodine.

  “I just know. The way he carries himself. The way he looks at people. He has a wolfish look about him. He’s at the hotel and I’d be careful around him is all.”

  “Did he say what his name was?” asked Jess.

  “No, and he didn’t sign the register at the hotel either because I checked.”

  Bodine gave Jess a guarded look.

  “I’ll bet it’s Heath Morgan,” said Reid with a mouthful of cold chicken. “He said he’d be here around this time.”

  “I could go and arrest him,” said Bodine.

  “That wouldn’t do much good except stall the inevitable,” Jess told him. “He’d just wait and follow me to the next town. He’s getting paid five thousand dollars and he ain’t going to walk away from that.”

  “So, you’re gonna face him?” asked Bodine.

  “You know how I work.”

  “Yeah, stupid question on my part.” Bodine chuckled. “Let’s go to the telegraph office and check on any messages from Reedy.”

  They walked out and Juanita headed back to the hotel café.

  Jess and Bodine didn’t see the parted curtain in the upstairs window of the hotel, although Jess could feel the hair on the back of his neck tingle. He spun around and scanned the street and when he did, the curtain was already closed.

  “Did you see something?” asked Bodine.

  “No, just a feeling,” he said warily. When they walked in, the operator grabbed a long piece of paper and handed it to Bodine. He read it slowly and a smile formed on his lips.

  “Looks like we can go ahead and arrest Malvern now,” he said as he handed the message to Jess. He read it and smiled.

  “Seems he’s done this before,” added Bodine.

  “Let’s go and get him right now,” said Jess as he handed the operator a silver dollar.

  Bodine put the message in his front pocket and the two of them walked out to find a man in a suit standing in the street smoking a cheroot, wearing a sly smile on his clean-shaven face. Jess walked out into the street and stopped about ten feet from him.

  “Let me guess,” Jess said pensively. “You must be Heath Morgan.”

  “Yes, and you’re Jess Williams,” he replied calmly as the cheroot bounced between his teeth. “I’m here to finally send you to hell where you belong.”

  Chapter thirteen

  Some of the townsfolk came out of their businesses to see what was happening. Juanita stood in the doorway of the hotel wringing a towel with her hands and a few men sauntered out of the saloon to watch what was taking place. Jess recognized one of the men as Malvern’s.

  “I’ve heard of you,” Jess told Morgan.

  “And I know everything about you. Although I’ve never set eyes on you until now.”

  “Then how do you know you have the right man?”

  “That pistol and holster is a dead giveaway,” he replied.

  “I suppose it is.”

  “I’m gonna take it off you after I kill you.”

  “I don’t think so,” Jess advised as he nodded over at Bodine, who stood on the boardwalk cradling his rifle in the hollow of his arm. Morgan slowly turned to see the marshal’s badge on his shirt.

  “Well looky here a real United States Marshal,” he drawled slowly. “Are you planning on arresting me after I kill this one here?”

  “Naw, I’m just gonna plug you,” he explained bluntly.

  “But, Marshal, that would be murder,” scoffed Morgan.

  “Call it whatever you want. If he goes down, you go down before the smoke clears.”

  “That doesn’t quite seem fair.”

  “Like I said, call it whatever you want,” declared Bodine as he racked a shell into the rifle. Morgan turned his attention back to Jess.

  “Seems like you have a real friend there,” he told Jess.

  “It would seem so,” he said as he glanced at Bodine. “Maybe you should ride back to Malvern’s place and return the twenty-five hundred dollars and ride out.”

  “How’d you know about the money?”

  “People talk, especially when they’re behind bars.”

  “Well, I can’t do that now after I’ve told you I’m going to kill you.”

  “I figured as much.”

  “Besides, I still think I can take you and still plug your marshal friend over there.”

  “If you do that, you’d better ride as far south into Mexico as you can, because the U.S. Marshals division will chase you all the way to hell for killing one of their own.”

  “I like Mexico,” he said as he finished the c
heroot and threw it on the ground, scrunching it out with his boot. “Five thousand dollars will let me live like a king for many years down there.”

  “Maybe, but you’re assuming that you’ll beat me.”

  “I have to think that.”

  “And what if you’re wrong?”

  “That’s the chance I take every time I face off with a man.”

  “Well, let’s get on with it,” Jess told him as he moved his hands into position.

  Morgan slowly pushed his pinstriped suit jacket behind his Navy Colt. He thumbed the hammer strap off and carefully lifted the pistol an inch to loosen it up in the holster. He let it fall gently back in and then he removed his flat-brimmed Stetson and used his left hand to throw his hat at Bodine. While the hat was still in the air, his right hand moved like a bolt of lightning as he went for his pistol. He thumbed the hammer back, the barrel cleared the cutaway holster and he fired one round that landed in the dirt five feet in front of him.

  The two slugs from Jess’s pistol threw him back two steps. He stood there holding his chest as the blood started to flow out of the holes as his heart raced with fear. He had never been shot before, not even wounded.

  “So, this is what it feels like to get shot?” he asked as his knees weakened and wobbled.

  “First time taking a bullet?” asked Jess. Morgan nodded as his mouth filled with blood. He spat it out on the ground.

  “Aw, what the hell,” he said as he raised his pistol up and began cocking it again.

  Jess fanned two more shots that pushed him backward until he lost his footing and fell into the dirt. The fingers of death slowly wrapped around his body. His eyes glazed over as the pistol fell from his dead hand. Jess walked over to the body and replaced his spent shells while looking down at Morgan.

  “Nice suit,” he said softly as Bodine came over, holding his rifle in one hand and Morgan’s hat in the other.

  “Nice hat too,” said Bodine as he tried it on. It didn’t fit, so he threw it onto Morgan’s face.

  “If you cut down your eating, that hat might fit,” Jess told him as he holstered his pistol and leaned over.

  He went through Morgan’s pockets until he found the twenty-five hundred dollars. He stuck the money into his pocket and stood back up to see Malvern’s man heading for his horse. Jess pointed the man out to Bodine, who raised his rifle and fired a warning shot above the man’s head. He quickly threw his hands in the air.

  “Get on over here,” Bodine scowled as he levered another shell into the rifle. The man strode across the street until he was standing in front of them.

  “I didn’t do anything,” he moaned nervously.

  “And you’re not going to either,” said Jess. “You work for Malvern. I saw you out at his place. You were going back to warn him about what happened.”

  “I haven’t broken any laws,” he said.

  “Get moving to the jail where you can join your pals,” Bodine told him. They started for the jail and Jess looked down to the end of the street.

  “Hey, ain’t that Frank Reedy?” asked Jess as he shaded his eyes from the sun.

  “It sure is,” said Bodine. “Perfect timing too.” Jess waited for Reedy to reach the jail. When he did, he slid wearily from the saddle and stretched as he looked at the undertaker hauling a dead body along the street.

  “I suppose that’s your work?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

  “That was Heath Morgan from Wichita.”

  “I heard he was one of the fastest.”

  “Not fast enough today,” Jess grinned. Bodine walked out and smiled at Reedy.

  “You made it just in time to go and arrest Malvern before he tries to run.”

  “Okay, but I want you to pin that badge on first,” he told Jess.

  “Do I have to?”

  “It’s an order,” answered Reedy. Jess pulled out the badge and pinned it on. Reedy walked his horse to the livery to get him watered and fed and then the three of them rode out of town heading straight for Malvern’s place.

  When the three of them got close to the large house, two riders came out to meet them. Their eyes were focused on the three United States Marshals’ badges. They reined in their horses and sat there silently.

  “You men work for Malvern?” demanded Reedy.

  “We do,” they said in unison. Jess, Bodine and Reedy all raised their rifles at the men.

  “Get down off those horses and unbuckle your gun belts,” ordered Reedy. The two men slowly climbed out of the saddle and did as they were told.

  “Now get down on your stomachs,” he ordered as he pulled out two sets of manacles and threw them onto the ground. “John, put those on them.”

  “Why? We ain’t done anything,” complained one of the men.

  “Not yet maybe and you’re not going to get a chance to do anything when we arrest your boss either,” Reedy told them as he looked at Jess. “How many more men does he have?”

  “Gunmen? Maybe four or five now. I’ve killed four of them so far,” admitted Jess.

  “Good, we can handle that many,” Reedy said through shrewd, calculating eyes. Bodine finished and climbed back up in the saddle.

  They started their horses again, the three of them riding abreast, the gleaming badges shining in the sunlight. Malvern and the last of his hired guns were standing on the front porch waiting for them. When they reined up, Jess raised the rifle straight at Malvern.

  “If any of your men move a muscle, I’ll blow your head clean off,” Jess warned him as a look of deadly intent rippled across his face.

  “What the hell is the meaning of this and why are my two men on their stomachs out there?”

  “Mr. Malvern, I’m United States Marshal Frank Reedy and I’m arresting you on the charges of murder, attempted murder, fraud, thievery and being just plain stupid to think you’d get away with it twice,” he told him as if he had practiced the speech beforehand.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” rebuffed Malvern.

  “We’ll see about that after we dig up Mr. McBee’s body,” replied Reedy. “Something tells me he didn’t die of natural causes, just like Mr. Grant up in Montana. They dug his body up and found a bullet hole in his skull. Mighty convenient that his ranch abutted yours and he had no heirs to claim his property. You eventually bought it up for twenty cents on the dollar and then moved here. If you hadn’t gotten greedy, you might have gotten away with it.”

  “That’s all speculation and hearsay,” scoffed Malvern.

  “Sheriff Burke says he was there the day you shot McBee in the side of his head and had his body buried behind the house. He’s willing to testify to that in court. I can’t wait to see you hang from a rope.”

  One of Malvern’s men coughed and moved his hand. Jess fired a shot that parted Malvern’s hair and left a burn mark on the top of his scalp. He howled in pain as the other men became statues.

  “I warned them not to move,” said Jess. He levered another round into the rifle.

  “You’re crazy,” hollered Malvern as he felt his head.

  “You’re lucky I don’t kill you right where you stand,” Jess told him with meaning.

  “Jess, don’t shoot him,” warned Reedy. “He’ll get his day in court and then he’ll hang.”

  “Do I have your word on it?” Jess asked as he squeezed back on the trigger some more.

  “You have my word,” Reedy told him. Jess lowered the rifle and sighed.

  “I’d have rather shot him,” he told Reedy.

  “I know you would,” he grinned widely.

  “The rest of you men have five minutes to collect your things and clear out,” announced Bodine. “Anyone left after that goes to the hoosegow with him.”

  The men hesitated for a second before running toward the bunkhouse and barn. Within five minutes, no one was left except for a few ranch hands and Malvern’s cook inside the kitchen. Malvern stood there speechless as he watched his men leaving.

  “It�
��s like rats jumping off a burning boat,” said Bodine as he slid from the saddle, walked up the steps of the porch and showed the manacles to Malvern. “I guess that makes you the burning boat. Now, turn around.”

  Chapter fourteen

  The ride back to town was a quiet and somber one, especially for Malvern, who felt his empire drifting away in his mind as they got closer to the jail. The townsfolk all came out to see Malvern’s hands manacled behind his back. Juanita stood in the doorway smiling. Bodine helped Malvern down from his horse and grabbed him by the collar. He shoved him all the way into the jail and waited for Reedy to find the key to open the heavy door going to the cells in back. As soon as Malvern set eyes on Burke, his face reddened and his eyes went wild with anger.

  “You backstabbing traitor,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

  “Aw, shut your yap,” Burke shot back.

  “I paid you well for your silence!”

  “And I told you I wouldn’t go to jail for you.”

  “Both of you shut up,” ordered Bodine as he shoved Malvern against the bars so he could unlock the manacles. He opened the cell door and shoved him in until he bounced off the back wall. He shut the cell door and locked it.

  “The circuit court judge will be here in a week to oversee your trial, although I’m pretty sure of the outcome already, especially after we dig up McBee’s body.”

  “The sheriff is the one who shot him,” Malvern accused as he pointed a finger at him.

  “That’s a bald-faced lie if I ever heard one,” refuted Burke. “You shot him with that .38-caliber pistol you carry sometimes. I carry a .45-caliber Colt and always have.” Bodine shook his head, shut the door to the cells and hung up the keys.

  “We need to get a few men to go out to the McBee house and start digging,” said Reedy as he sat down in a chair.

  “I hired four men to string some fencing for me,” said Jess. “I’m sure they’ll do the digging. I have a room for you in the house and Lida does some great cooking.”

  “She sure knows how to cook a steak the right way,” admitted Bodine.