The Marshal of Denver

by Judge Rodriguez

  The lieutenant stops dead in his tracks. “Good, you’re here. I was on my way to get you. You heard about what happened?” When John nods, he continues, “Capt. Richards needs to speak with you in the dining room.”

  John rushes into the dining room to see Doc Bakker talking to Capt. Richards animatedly, while both are standing at a table, looking at what appears to be a map.

  The doctor points to a spot on the map, close to a creek and says, “That’s where we found the girl’s stuff. That’s the most likely place they will be hiding. It’s defensible, well provisioned and the best place to make a stand, or set up an ambush.” He looks up, seeing John enter. “Ah. Good. John, I was just telling the captain here where I think Jacobson might be. What do you think?”

  John approaches the table to see a crudely drawn map laying out plats of land, streams, and other miscellaneous features. John studies it for a short while, seeing where David was pointing. “I think if he isn’t there, then most likely he will be out at the Johnston’s place, by the creek, here.” He points to another place on the map.

  “That’s several miles away, in the opposite direction. How much resistance do you expect he will put up?” Capt. Richards asks thoughtfully.

  “I don’t know. I think we could split the troop and investigate both sites. One group can go with Doc Bakker, the other with me. We’re both familiar with both areas, though I think it best I take the Johnston’s place, since David is more familiar with the other area.”

  Capt. Richards looks at the map again with a thoughtful look on his face. “That sounds like a good plan. I will tell both lieutenants to get the men moving.” He looks at the young doctor. “I don’t see you carrying a gun. Do you want one for personal protection?”

  “I’d prefer not to carry a gun at all, but given the circumstances, I think I will take you up on your offer.”

  Capt. Richards motions to Lt. Woodson and says, “See to it. Also get the men ready to go. I want you to lead the group that goes with the Sergeant Major here. You are to follow his orders as if they come from me. Is that understood?”

  The lieutenant salutes smartly. “Yes, sir!”

  John looks at Capt. Richards. “You aren’t leading one of the search parties?”

  “Lyttle and I will be here figuring out this mess of corruption and death. I will still want to talk to you after you get back, though. Make sure you stay alive long enough to answer the questions. Okay?”

  John smiles sardonically. “I’ll do my best, sir.”

  Capt. Richards smiles. “Go on, get out of here. Try not to have too much fun, will you?”

  John’s laughter fills the room as he exits with Doc Bakker and Lt. Woodson in tow.

  The lieutenant speeds up to walk next to John and asks, “How did you get such an easy-going relationship with the captain there? He’s always been so professional with me.”

  “I knew him straight out of West Point. He got his spurs under my tutelage.” John smiles at the memory, “Some of the stories I could tell you from when he was a green-horn.” He chuckles. “I won’t though, not until he’s there to hear them. That’s most of the fun.”

  When the three men make it back to the camp, Lt. Woodson speaks quietly to Lt. Guthrie for a few moments before calling the troop together. The lieutenant speaks to the troopers while David walks off with Lt. Guthrie, looking for weapons and provisions for the trip.

  Three hours later, John is riding on a borrowed cavalry mount next to Lt. Woodson at the head of the column of thirty troopers. They are riding at a mile eating canter and John couldn’t be more at home. Lt. Woodson agreed that since they are going to be riding right by the homestead, they will stop by for a few minutes and tell Heart-of-Falcon about needing to have her and the Lings go to Denver to give their testimony in the related deaths.

  John breathes a sigh of relief. This is how life is meant to be. Out on the trail, riding toward someone that probably wants to kill you. Not knowing if you will see sunset, or if you will be embroiled in a battle come sundown.

  He turns in the saddle to see the two-rider wide, fifteen-deep column spread out behind him. Even though their task master is dead, these troopers are able to maintain their professionalism. John smiles at his critique ruefully. You can remove the man from the cav, but you will never take the cav from the man. He turns to Woodson and says, “Red-Feather has a herd. We don’t all need to ride in and upset them. It would be a good idea if just you and I go in to tell them the good news. Don’t you think?”

  The lieutenant thinks a moment and nods in agreement. “How far are we from their claim?”

  “Less than a quarter mile, I would say. This is the far south-eastern edge of it now.”

  “Okay. I will let the horses rest a bit here, then.” He motions to the troop sergeant, who then calls a halt.

  John and Lt. Woodson ride on to the center of the claim, where Red-Feather’s homestead is. As they ride through, they see stray beefalo grazing here and there. John notices Gray-Dawn riding alongside, unobtrusively following the two riders, rifle sitting in his lap. John and the lieutenant ride up to the front of the residence that has just recently been completed.

  John calls out, “Heart-of-Falcon! Are you in? We need to talk!” He grunts as he dismounts and hands the reins of his horse to the lieutenant. “Hello! Anyone there?”

  From inside the soddie, John hears Heart-of-Falcon call out, “Hang on, John! Be right there!”

  John looks at the lieutenant, who is trying to smother a smile and smiles himself. A couple of minutes later, Heart-of-Falcon emerges, drying her hands on a rag. She stops dead in her tracks when she sees the lieutenant still seated on his horse.

  John holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “He’s fine. Your husband is just in town helping the captain deal with some legal matters.”

  She breathes a sigh of relief. “So, what brings you here?”

  “We are on our way to go capture a fugitive and thought we’d deliver the summons for you, the Lings, and the Johnstons, to meet up with your husband in Denver.”

  “Well, Mary and Junior are in no shape to travel. Why are we being called to town?”

  “To testify to what you have seen to the board of the inquest. They are getting all the witnesses they can, so they can get all the information they can before making a ruling.”

  “I don’t know that I want to leave Mary here alone. They hurt her something fierce, when they took her. She still isn’t talking, but I hope she will come around soon.” Heart-of-Falcon looks at John directly. “I think I’ll send the Lings and have them bring back Sarah to sit with her mother. Think they will let her out of town, to come back out here?”

  “They should be able to. It all depends on how long they take getting her side of things. You will need to make sure that the boys keep an eye out for rustlers. We’ve had quite the issue with claim jumpers and it’s a short jump from claim jumping to cattle rustling. Well, we need to get back on the trail. I will hopefully see you again, shortly.” He remounts his horse and takes the reins from Lt. Woodson.

  John waves to Gray-Dawn as the two brothers ride past. Gray-Dawn makes a quick wave in response and turns his horse back toward guarding the main herd.

  Chapter 29

  The two men ride back to where the main column is resting. The troopers form back up at the sergeant's orders and move out. John has a feeling of dread about this excursion. Someone is going to die today and, as long as he is sure his friends are safe, he doesn’t know that he cares that much.

  They ride through the pasture lands on the east side of Red-Feather's homestead, paying close attention to see if there are any signs anyone has come through in the last few days.

  There are signs, but it appears the signs are going the other way and are several days old. John makes sure to have both his Winchester and his Colt unlimbered, ready for action.

  As the troop approaches the southern edge of the Johnston’s claim, shots ring out from several concealed pos
itions along the tree line along the eastern edge of the homestead. John quickly dismounts, pulls his Winchester and, using his horse as a sort of meat shield, starts to fire back.

  As the troop moves to respond to the ambush, John sees flashes of white in the trees. He returns fire for several more shots, shooting at the flashes he can see.

  John hears a shout and thud as one of the soldiers in the column gets shot. John takes another shot. Another flash of white in the treeline. John shoots and hears someone screaming in the trees. He shoots again in the same area and the screams end.

  The battle rages on for several more minutes. Two more troopers fall. Lt. Woodson yells and falls, clutching his leg.

  John shoots again, then moves to the lieutenant, checking him over. “You’re lucky it’s only a flesh wound!” John yells over the gunfire. He takes his belt off and ties it around the soldier’s upper thigh.

  John hears a horse squeal and looks up in just in time to see his horse fall. John grunts in frustration and continues to fire into the trees. A minute later, he is out of ammo for his Winchester, so John pulls his Colt and starts firing again.

  About a quarter of an hour after it started, the attack ends. Just like that. John hears a voice calling out from the treeline, “Stop shooting! I surrender!”

  John waves at the troopers and yells, “Stop firing! They surrender!”

  Finally, the troopers stop firing and John sees a half dozen men emerge from the treeline with their hands in the air. Each one is wearing a white robe, several are still wearing their hoods adorned with horns. Every one of the men is sporting a gunshot wound.

  John looks down the line for the sergeant, just to see that he was one of the troopers he heard fall. With a low curse, John waves to the corporal, who then gets up from his position and comes over to where John is crouching by the lieutenant.

  The corporal salutes John and asks, “Sir?”

  John points to the groaning lieutenant laying on the ground. “I need you to ride to Red-Feather's homestead, tell Heart-Of-Falcon what has happened here and ask her to bring her medical supplies. The faster, the better.”

  Lt. Woodson groans, tries to sit up, and then says, “I can ride there. I’m not completely down.”

  John smiles. “You can’t even stand, much less ride while you have that lead in you.” He makes a shooing motion to the corporal. “Go on, you have your marching orders.”

  The corporal salutes smartly saying, “Yes, sir!” He turns, runs to his horse, jumps into its saddle, and gallops back toward the ranch.

  The attackers have crossed half the distance, several of them now have their hoods up, held like flags of surrender. A dozen troopers, rifles at the ready, rush out to bind the men and take them into custody.

  John checks to make sure the lieutenant’s tourniquet is properly set, pats the man on the shoulder, and strides out to meet the kneeling prisoners. He approaches line from the side. He demands of the first prisoner, “Why did you attack us?”

  Stony silence is his only reply.

  John sighs, pulls his revolver from the holster, cocks it, and points it at the man’s head. “Answer me or die,” John snarls.

  Still no answer. John slowly releases the hammer down, turns the pistol around to grip it by the frame and cylinder, then raps the man in the back of the head with the butt of the handle, with a sound like a hammer hitting a wet melon, knocks him out cold.

  John steps up to the second man. “Why did you attack us?” he demands of the man. No answer. John knocks him out as well.

  On the third prisoner, John decides they won’t answer him on that question, so he changes it up. “How many of you are hiding in there?” he demands.

  No answer.

  Again, he raps the man on the head, knocking him out.

  John walks up to the fourth prisoner. “You will tell me what I want to know, or I will kill you. We have enough witnesses to what happened, we don’t need anymore. Now what is your name?”

  The man looks at him finally croaking out. “White.”

  “Why did you attack us?”

  “Die and burn in hell.”

  “You first.” John pulls the trigger and allows the mostly headless corpse to fall to the ground.

  The last two prisoners start screaming and try to get up to run. John wipes the blood off his hand on the white robe of the man he just shot. He steps up to the fifth prisoner, cocks his revolver and places it against the man’s skull. “Now, that you know I am serious, what is your name?” he asks in an even tone.

  “D-D-Douglas. J-J-James D-Douglas, sir.”

  “Why did you attack us?”

  “We—we were told to by Jacobson. He—He said you were coming to kill him.”

  “Did the coward run off? Why isn’t he out here?”

  “He—he’s dead, sir. I saw, I saw him fall.”

  “Now, here’s the real important question. Other than you five, is there anyone else left alive? If we go to retrieve those bodies, can we? Without someone else trying to shoot us that is?”

  “We—we’re the last. Please don’t kill me!”

  “If no one tries to kill us, we will take you back with us to be tried by a tribunal, since this area is under martial law. I will tell them how you cooperated though. Where’s your horses?”

  “Be—behind me in the trees about fifty yards.”

  John pulls the trigger on his revolver, allowing the hammer to fall onto the spent round. The prisoner faints. John chuckles and motions for the troopers to take the prisoners away. He motions for several more troopers to go towards the trees for the horses and the bodies of the dead.

  John takes the hood from one of the prisoners, takes off the belt holding the robe to the corpse, and ties the hood over the corpse’s somewhat missing head.

  Just as he finishes, John looks up to see Heart-Of-Falcon and the corporal riding at a high lope down the path the column had approached from.

  Without preamble, Heart-Of-Falcon dismounts, points to the corporal, says something John can’t hear, then approaches the lieutenant. The corporal rides to the stand of trees, dismounts, and starts searching the ground for something.

  John walks over to Heart-Of-Falcon and asks, “Think he’ll live?”

  Heart-Of-Falcon looks up at him and smirks. “Once I get this bullet pulled out and the hole sealed, he’ll wish he was.” She pulls out a bottle of whiskey and a leather rod, hands both to the injured man and says, “This is gonna hurt. Have a couple drinks first.”

  Lt. Woodson takes the bottle and pours half of it down his throat in one swig. He takes the leather rod, puts it in his mouth and bites down on it.

  John hears the lieutenant’s teeth crunching down on the leather. John moves around to the top of the lieutenant’s torso. The lieutenant grunts as he is pushed down by the shoulders, holding him in place.

  Heart-Of-Falcon takes a probe and pincers from her bag, and starts digging into the hole in the man’s thigh. She probes for a few moments, smiles, reaches in with the pincers and pulls out the mushroomed bullet.

  She pours some of the whiskey into the hole and Lt. Woodson groans, before falling back down having passed out cold.

  John looks up to see the corporal riding back with several pieces of dead-fall wood. The soldier stops and dismounts a few feet away, then builds a fire using the wood and some cut grass.

  Heart-Of-Falcon allows the fire to burn hot for several minutes before putting the blade of a knife into it. She allows the blade to heat for about a minute and a half, before putting the tip of it into the seeping hole in the man’s leg.

  John snorts the smell of burning flesh out of his nostrils, glad it wasn’t him this time. “Thank you for doing that. I know he would thank you had he not passed out.”

  Heart-Of-Falcon looks at him and a smile lights up her beautiful face. “I remember doing this to you and Red-Feather plenty of times. I’m glad it wasn’t you or him.”

  “So am I.” John turns at the sounds of approachin
g horses, many of them with dead men tied across their saddles. John steps up to, then looks at the faces of the dead men and confirms Jacobson is among them. He also verifies the man is wearing a white robe as well.

  John calls out to the nearest trooper and asks, “Where did you find this one?”

  The man looks at the dead face a moment as he remembers, then replies, “Over there I think.” He points over into the area John was firing into.

  John nods and says to the dead body, “You just couldn’t give it up, could you? Now you done got yourself dead, and it sounds like by my hand. All for what? Hm? Your stupidity and pride.” John shakes his head in disgust. “Oh, well.” He allows the head to fall back down and continues on his way.

  He checks to make sure all the weapons have been secured, bodies put on horses, and wounded tended to. He thanks Heart-Of-Falcon and sends her back to the homestead with an armed guard. By the time he is done, the prisoners have been secured to mounts, and Lt. Woodson is secured to a stretcher slung between two horses. John checks a final time making sure the fire is out and orders the column forward at a walk.

  The trip to the site of the skirmish took about two hours at a hard gallop. The trip back takes about six, since they have to keep their pace at a walk, to keep from further injuring the several wounded troops.

  Chapter 30

  About halfway back, Lt. Woodson wakes up and insists that he be allowed to ride. John makes sure his wound is no longer seeping and then also made sure to bind more bandages to it.

  By the time the column makes its way back to the camp, the sun has set and the campfires are burning. John sends the corporal to go see if David has come back to town yet, and if he has, see if he can come out to see to the wounded.

  He has several troopers help him escort the prisoners to the meager accommodations of the Marshal's office.

  After John leaves the corporal and another trooper to watch over the overcrowded jail, he makes his way to the hotel.