The others, including Captain Aufdenberg and Falcon, laughed.
“Have any of you read today’s paper?” Mrs. Allen asked.
“I haven’t read it yet,” Captain Aufdenberg said.
“Mr. Denham is at it again. Tweaking the sheriff. I think he should be more careful. I am frightened for him.”
Vandals Kill Two, Burn House and Barn
FOUR NIGHT RIDERS ARE THEMSELVES KILLED
They rode out of the night, four despicable brigands, announcing their arrival with a volley of gunfire that struck down Shorty Rogers and Clyde Barnes, two fine young men who were in the prime of their lives. Then, not content with murder, the hooligans continued their perfidious activity by setting fire to the home, barn, and bunkhouse at the ranch of Leon Frakes.
This newspaper is happy to report, however, that the four arsonists, Pogue Wilson, Ron Mace, Jack Andrews, and Frank Little, were themselves killed before the horrific activity of the night ceased. The readers may well recognize the names of these four men, for all of them have, at times, been deputies to Sheriff Poindexter. Though Sheriff Poindexter will claim that the men were not working for him at the time, and to be sure none of the four were found with a badge. However, the mere fact that he has employed such men as these underscores the complaint the citizens of Sorrento have with Sheriff Poindexter’s heavy-handed policies.
Sorrento and Scott County
BETTERMENT ASSOCIATION FORMED
In a recent meeting held in the home of Rancher David Bowman, a proposal was advanced, and passed, that a Betterment Association for both Sorrento and Scott County be formed. Eb Smalley was elected as president of the association, and David Bowman vice president. Doc Smalley is the treasurer and this editor, Harold Denham, is the secretary. The purpose of the Betterment Association will be to improve the lives of our citizens by bringing about the best business and political environment possible.
To achieve that purpose, we intend to dedicate ourselves to the task of ending the reigns of Sheriff Poindexter and Judge Dawes, to replace them with upright citizens who will serve us ably.
After supper, Falcon excused himself and walked down to the Hog Heaven, which Denham told him was “a gathering place for convivial people, or, put another way, the best and the brightest of Sorrento.”
Falcon was sitting at a table with Denham and Doc Gunter when Poindexter came in. Falcon watched him come in, noticing that the sheriff entered a saloon the same way he did, backing up against the wall and pausing for a moment as he perused the place.
“What does that son of a bitch want now?” Denham asked.
Doc Gunter chuckled. “I’d say he’s read your paper today and isn’t pleased by it.”
Poindexter came straight toward the table where the men were sitting. “Denham, what do you mean by printing the kind of stories you printed today?”
“What are you doing here, Sheriff? I thought the Long Trail was your hangout. And if you read the stories, the answer to your question is evident. I mean to get you and Judge Dawes out of office, as quickly as I can.”
“You’re treading on dangerous ground here.”
“No, Sheriff, I’m treading on hallowed ground, the hallowed ground of freedom of the press, freedom of speech, and freedom of the ballot.”
Poindexter paused for a moment, wheezed a couple of times, then continued. “Well, all I got to say is, you had better watch your step. I’ve got my eye on you.”
“Hell, Poindexter, that bug-eyed piece of glob you call an eye is always on everybody. You can’t help it, ’cause you can’t close it,” Denham said.
The others in the saloon heard that, and they all laughed. Then, plunging on because he didn’t like being the butt of anyone’s jokes, he turned to Falcon.
“MacCallister, you got a telegram. It says that the horse you want to buy is for sale.”
“Tell me, Sheriff. If that telegram was for me, how is it that you know what it says?”
“There ain’t no secrets from me in this town, MacCallister.”
“Apparently not.”
“So I reckon you’ll be wantin’ to get back to it, before someone else buys that horse you’re wantin’.”
“No, I don’t think so. I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want it anymore.”
“Then why did they send you the telegram?”
“I thought I wanted the horse, but now I don’t.”
Poindexter stared at Falcon for a long moment, as if trying to decide if there was more to this telegram than met the surface. But, not able to get to the bottom of it, he turned his attention back to Denham.
“You just watch what you print in that paper. You hear me? You just watch.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“I’ve got a feeling, Falcon, that that telegram you got yesterday didn’t have a damn thing to do with you buying a horse.”
The two men were in the newspaper office, Denham having slept there all night to protect his paper.
“What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know. As I said, it’s just a feeling that I have. And I’m pretty sure that Poindexter has that same feeling.”
“You may be right.”
“So, what is it? What did the telegram mean?”
“It means I’ve been appointed a Deputy United States Marshal.”
“Hot damn!” Denham said, smiling broadly and hitting his fist into his hand enthusiastically. “Now you’ve got ’em. That gives you all the authority you need.”
“Yes, but I don’t want anyone else to know, yet.”
“I don’t know why you should feel that way.”
“I think that if I keep it quiet, at least until I need the authority, I can get more accomplished.”
“All right, if that’s what you want, I won’t say a word.” Suddenly a big smile spread across Denham’s face. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. What if you were appointed city marshal for Sorrento? That would give you some authority to sort of move around and look at things. And Poindexter wouldn’t be worried because he would realize that as sheriff, his position would be superior to yours. But what he wouldn’t know, is that in addition to being a city marshal, you would also be a U.S. Marshal, over him?”
Falcon laughed. “Sounds a little convoluted, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, that’s what makes it so great.”
“How do I become city marshal? Isn’t that an elective position?”
“Ordinarily, it is. We had an elected city marshal, but he was so intimidated by Poindexter that he resigned. The city charter says that the mayor has the authority to appoint a new city marshal until the next election. He hasn’t appointed anyone yet, because there’s nobody in town who will take the job.”
“All right,” Falcon said. “Suppose we go meet the mayor.”
“You mean you’ll do it? You think it’s a good idea?”
“Yeah, I think it is a fine idea.”
In addition to being mayor of Sorrento, Joe Cravens was also a pharmacist and owner of the Sorrento Apothecary. Before Denham took Falcon down to see him, he stopped by to pick up Smalley and Doc Gunter.
There was a very pretty young girl in the store, sweeping the floor. She smiled when Falcon, Denham, Smalley, and Doc Gunter went in.
“Hello, Mr. Denham, Mr. Smalley, Dr. Gunter,” she said. She looked at Falcon but didn’t call him by name.
“This is Falcon MacCallister,” Denham said.
“I thought you might be,” Julie replied with a dimple-producing smile. “I read about you in the paper.”
“Julie, what are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be in school?” Denham asked.
Julie laughed. “I graduated from school last year. I’m working for Daddy now.”
“You can’t meet any young men working here,” Smalley said. “You should come down to my store and work for me.”
“Oh, I don’t think Daddy would like that.”
“Is your daddy in?” Denham asked.
“He’ll be right ba
ck. He walked down to the post office to—oh, there he is now.”
When Cravens came in, he looked nervously at the men who were gathered.
“Julie, you can go on home now,” he said.
“I haven’t finished sweeping the floor.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“All right.” Julie threw another smile toward Falcon as she started out. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. MacCallister.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” Falcon replied.
Cravens waited until his daughter was gone before he spoke to the group. “What is it? What do you men want?”
“Joe, why is it that we do not have a city marshal?” Denham asked. “The way it is now, without a city marshal, Poindexter has too much authority over us.”
“You know why we don’t have a city marshal. Larry Wallace resigned, and nobody else has agreed to serve in the position. Why, I doubt if we can even get someone to run for the job in the next election.”
“If someone agreed to take the position, would you appoint them?”
“I—I’m not sure I have that authority.”
It wasn’t until then that Denham showed him the bound sheaf of papers he was carrying. He raised it up and showed the cover to Mayor Cravens.
CITY CHARTER
Sorrento, Texas
Adopted Sep. 18, 1873
“Do you recognize this?”
“It’s the city charter.”
Denham began to read. “Paragraph two, City officers. Slash b, City Marshal. The city marshal shall be an elective position. If for some reason the city marshal is unable to complete the term, the mayor shall have sole authority to appoint an interim marshal who will serve with full authority until the next regularly scheduled election. At that time the appointed marshal must run for reelection.”
“All right,” Mayor Cravens said. “But it’s like I told you, nobody has agreed to take the position.”
“I’ll take the job,” Falcon said.
“You . . . you are the one who brought in the two stagecoach robbers, aren’t you?”
“Yes. And the four arsonists.”
“I thought there were several of you who brought them in.”
“There were several of us. But we didn’t bring them in until after Mr. MacCallister had already—subdued them.”
“Subdued them?”
“Killed them,” Falcon said.
Cravens pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Oh, my,” he said.
“Swear him in, Mayor,” Doc Gunter said. “Or so help me, I’ll tell everyone of my patients that all your potions are poison.”
“No, no, I—uh—will swear him in. Hold up your right hand.”
Falcon held up his hand.
“Do you swear you’ll perform the duties as city marshal to the best of your ability?”
“I do.”
“You are now the city marshal of Sorrento. Just a minute, I have a badge over here.”
Mayor Cravens walked over to a bench and began moving beakers, mortars, pestles, and test tubes around until he found what he was looking for. He came back with a large star, upon which were imprinted the words CITY MARSHAL.
Falcon put the badge on, and the others shook his hand in congratulations.
It was early the next morning, and though most self-respecting roosters had announced the fact long ago, half a dozen cocks were still trying to stake a claim on the day. The sun had been up long enough for the morning light to change from gold to white, and here and there were signs of Sorrento rising.
Falcon could eat at the boardinghouse, and occasionally he did, but more often he preferred to eat downtown because it kept him more in touch with everyone. When he stepped into the Lonely Biscuit Café this morning, there were several people who noticed the marshal’s star on his chest and, though Falcon could see the reaction in their faces, nobody said anything to him. He took a table, and the owner of the café, who was also the waiter, came over to him.
“Yes, sir, Mister—or is that Marshal—MacCallister?”
“It is Marshal. City Marshal.”
“Well, congratulations, Marshal. What can I get for you?”
“I’ll just have a cup of coffee now,” Falcon said. “Mr. Denham, Mr. Smalley, and Doc Gunter will be joining me shortly, and we’ll order breakfast then.”
“Very good, sir,” the owner said.
Falcon was halfway through his coffee when Denham and the others came into the café. Denham was carrying a newspaper.
“I thought you might like to see this article,” Denham said, showing him the paper.
“It’s only a little after seven,” Falcon said. “You must have gotten a very early start this morning.”
“I did. I want the whole town to know that we have a new marshal.”
The waiter returned, and the men ordered, eggs, bacon, and biscuits. Then, as they waited for their meal, Falcon read the article.
New City Marshal Appointed
Yesterday, Falcon MacCallister raised his hand and took the oath of office for the position of city marshal for the city of Sorrento, Texas. Marshal MacCallister is a man of immense capability and, even before assuming the position of city marshal, brought to justice Cooper Winters and Travis Eberwine, the stagecoach robbers and murders.
Because we now have a marshal, the authority Sheriff Poindexter currently exerts within the city limits will be much reduced. Our citizens can breathe easily now, without fear of the harsh and capricious enforcement we have heretofore been subjected to. It can only be hoped that Sheriff Poindexter will realize that his authority over the citizens of Sorrento has been greatly diminished, thus making our lives easier.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The previous town marshal had shared the sheriff’s office and the county jail, but Denham, Smalley, and Doc Gunter, as well as a few other leading businessmen of the town, didn’t think that was a good idea. They bought a small building that was next to the apothecary and within a few days were able to convert it into a marshal’s office and jail.
Denham insisted that the mayor have a grand opening of the new office and jail, and he printed an article in his paper inviting the whole town to turn out to see the mayor hand the key to Falcon. More than one hundred of the town’s citizens showed up. Sheriff Poindexter and his deputies were there as well, though they stayed well back from the crowd, holding themselves detached from the event.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Denham said, addressing the crowd. “I want to thank all of you for coming today to celebrate the grand opening of our new City Marshal Office and City Jail. Before the mayor hands the key over to Marshal MacCallister, I would like to invite him to say a few words. Marshal?”
Falcon nodded at Denham, then he stepped out onto the porch of the office and jail. His marshal’s star, which was larger than that worn by Poindexter or any of his deputies, shone brightly in the morning sun.
“I want to thank the mayor for appointing me to this position,” Falcon said. “And it is my intention to serve the town of Sorrento to the best of my ability. Thank you.”
Mayor Cravens handed Falcon the key, Falcon used it to open the door, everyone applauded, then the crowd broke up. Denham hurried back to write the story, Smalley returned to his store, and Doc Gunter to his office.
When everyone else left, one person remained behind. It was Sheriff Poindexter.
“Something I can do for you, Sheriff?” Falcon asked.
“MacCallister, I don’t know what this was all about,” Poindexter said with a little wave of his hand. “But don’t be getting any ideas about your authority. As the county sheriff, you have to answer to me.”
“And I will, for anything outside the town limits,” Falcon said. “Inside the town limits, I am the primary law enforcement officer.”
Poindexter raised his hand and pointed his finger at Falcon. “Just don’t get in my way,” he warned.
Even as Poindexter was leaving, Denham returned. The
two men didn’t speak as they passed each other.
“Let me guess,” Denham said after Poindexter was gone. “He’s letting you know that he is the sheriff, and you are just a city marshal.”
“Something like that,” Falcon said. “I pointed out that, inside the town limits, I am the primary law enforcement officer.”
Denham laughed. “Good for you. I knew this was a good idea.”
As the two men were talking, Les Karnes came in.
“Hello, Les,” Denham said.
“Mr. Denham,” Les replied. “Marshal, I wonder if you would like to hire a deputy.”
“Why? Would you be interested?”
“Yes, sir, I would,” Les said. “Until Mr. Frakes gets back on his feet, he don’t have no work for me to do. I’ve got to get on somewhere. And I figured, well, maybe you could use a deputy.”
“What about it, Harold?” Falcon asked. “Am I authorized to have a deputy?”
“Yes, indeed, you are.”
“All right, hold up your right hand, Les, and say I do.”
Les held up his hand and smiled. “There ain’t no ladies around here that I’m a’ marryin’ by sayin’ ‘I do,’ is there?” he asked.
“None that I can see,” Falcon replied with a chuckle.
“All right. I do.”
“The mayor didn’t give me any deputies’ badges, but I’m sure he has one, so we’ll walk over and get it.”
“Oh, say,” Denham said. “I was about to ask you if you might like to go to the theater with me tonight? As a matter of fact, both of you should go.”
“The theater? Yes, I enjoy going to the theater,” Falcon replied. The theater was in Falcon’s family, and though he had never done anything on stage, his brother and sister, Andrew and Roseanne, were internationally known stars of the stage. They appeared regularly in New York, London, and Paris, and had made frequent tours throughout the United States.
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