The Ghost Riders

by James J. Griffin

  “Yep. Beau serves up a lot better drink than Stan over at the Silver Horse.”

  “How would you know that?” Smoky asked. “You never drink anythin’ but pop or milk.”

  “Because the pop’s always colder at Beau’s place. And just as a connoisseur of wine can tell the difference from one to another, I can tell one sarsaparilla from another.”

  Smoky merely snorted, and shook his head. Sizzle did the same.

  “Horse, when I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,” Jim told him. “Move on up there. My belly’s complainin’ it ain’t been filled for far too long now.” He kicked Sizzle into a lope.

  A few moments later, the pair allowed their horses a short drink from the trough in the town plaza, then crossed the square and reined up in front of O’Malley’s Restaurant. They dismounted and looped their horse’s reins over the hitch rail, Jim as always giving Sizzle a peppermint, then headed inside. The restaurant was bustling, with almost every table filled. Folks came from miles around for the food and atmosphere. O’Malley’s was known for its steaks, and especially for Don O’Malley’s fried potatoes. He seasoned them with a blend of spices of his own creation, a secret recipe he divulged to no one, not even his wife or six kids. He had a copy written down, sealed, and locked in his safe, with instructions it was only to be opened in the event of his death.

  Ellen O’Malley’s touch was evident in the restaurant’s décor, which was far more genteel than most frontier eateries. White lace curtains hung at the window, and white linen tablecloths covered each table. Wall shelves held her collection of blue-willow patterned plates, and a vase on each table held a single fresh flower. The waitresses wore red or blue gingham dresses, and white aprons. Ellen insisted on keeping the place immaculately clean. Even the ashtrays were emptied regularly.

  “Smoky! Jim!” Ellen, who with her husband Don owned the restaurant, called when she spotted them. “C’mon over here. We’ve got one table left.”

  Jim and Smoky crossed the crowded dining room to the table Ellen had indicated, in the far back corner, on the opposite wall from the kitchen door.

  “Howdy, Ellen,” Jim said. “Real busy in here tonight.”

  “It certainly is,” she answered. “It’s been this way all day. You boys want coffee?”

  “Now Ellen, what kind of a silly question is that?” Smoky said, chuckling.

  “I guess it was a pretty useless one,” Ellen answered, with a laugh of her own. “I’ll be right back with a full pot.”

  Jim and Smoky exchanged greetings with several of the other customers. San Leanna was a small town, so they were acquainted with just about everyone who lived there. Smoky rolled and lit a cigarette while he waited for Ellen to return with their coffee.

  “This was a fine idea Julia had, Jim,” he said. “I need a night on the town.”

  “I reckon I do too, Smoke, even though I didn’t realize it,” Jim answered. “Matter of fact, after we eat we should stop at Jarratt’s on our way to the saloon, and pick up a little something for our wives, just to surprise ’em.”

  “That’s a good thought,” Smoky agreed. “Women always like unexpected gifts. Ah, here comes Ellen with our coffee.”

  “You waitin’ tables tonight, Ellen?” Jim asked, as she put two mugs and a full coffee pot in front of them.

  “I’ve got no choice. Two of our girls are out with the grippe, and Ellie Scott asked for the night off. You know Jud Baker’s been courtin’ her. I think tonight’s the night he’s finally gonna ask her to marry him.”

  “Ellie could do far worse,” Smoky said. “Jud’s a real hard worker. He took that patch of ground no one thought was worth anythin’ and turned it into a nice little farm.”

  “I think he’ll make her very happy,” Ellen said. “Speaking of wives, how are Julia and Cindy? And have you heard from Charlie or Mary Jane, Jim?”

  “Julia’s doin’ fine,” Jim said. “She’s just a bit tired of havin’ me underfoot, so she sent me out for a night in town. Said it would do me some good. And save her from havin’ to cook supper. Far as the youngsters, no. I’d imagine they’re too busy to take the time to write home. I’d bet a hat we don’t hear from ’em until they get back home.”

  “Cindy’s fine too,” Smoky added. “Julia’s visitin’ her while Jim and I are outta their hair.”

  “Well, give them both my love. And since you’re after supper, how about it? Are you boys ready to order?”

  “I sure am,” Jim answered.

  “Jim’s always ready to eat. You should know that by now, Ellen,” Smoky said. “Especially when it comes to sweets.”

  “Hey, you don’t do so bad yourself, Smoke,” Jim retorted. “Now, if you’ll stop interruptin’. Ellen, I’ll have the biggest steak you have back in the kitchen, a double order of Don’s spuds, and whatever vegetable’s on the menu tonight.”

  “That would be pinto beans.”

  “Good. Plenty of those, and you know how I want my steak cooked.”

  “I certainly do. Until it’s just about burned black as charcoal. All right, Jim. How about you, Smoky?”

  “I’ll have the same, only my steak’s gotta be so rare it’s almost still mooin’,” Smoky answered.

  “You’ve got it. And I’m imagining you’ll both want dessert?”

  “Ellen, that’s an even sillier question than askin’ if we wanted coffee,” Jim answered. “If you don’t save me an extra large slice of your pecan pie, I’ll have to arrest you.”

  “Oh, really? On what charges?” Ellen asked.

  “Fraud, for promising pecan pie you don’t have. You can’t torture a man by promisin’ him pecan pie, then not deliverin’.”

  “Jim, you know, sometimes we do run out. You’re not the only person around here who likes pecan pie,” Ellen answered. “But don’t worry. I baked several today, so we have plenty. Let me put your orders in. Don’ll have your food ready quick as he can. Of course, it does take a bit longer to burn your steak, Jim. I’ll bring some bread and butter to hold you over.”

  “Thanks, Ellen.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Smoky and Jim engaged in small talk while waiting for their meal.

  “There’s a few strangers in here tonight, Smoke,” Jim observed.

  “Seem to be,” Smoky agreed. “They don’t seem to be lookin’ for trouble, though. They appear downright peaceable.”

  “San Leanna’s not the kind of town that attracts troublemakers,” Jim said. “There’s not much reason for people to come here, unless they’re visitin’ friends or family, or conductin’ business. It’s not like we’re a big cattle, mining, or railroad town. Men lookin’ for excitement’ll generally head to a bigger place, where there’s more saloons, gamblin’ parlors, and sportin’ houses. Plus don’t forget, Tom Colburn and his deputies do a good job of keepin’ everyone in line.”

  Tom Colburn was the San Leanna town marshal.

  “And let’s hope the town stays this way,” Smoky said. “Ah, here comes our supper now.”

  Ellen carried a tray laden with food, and placed it on their table.

  “Here you go,” she said, as she set their plates in front of them. “One burnt to cinders steak for you, Jim, and one still on the hoof for Smoky. Lots of spuds, and plenty of beans. Just don’t light any matches for awhile after you eat them beans. I’ve also brought some more bread and butter, and a fresh pot of coffee.”

  “Boy howdy, Ellen, that steak you gave Jim is the biggest one I’ve ever seen,” Smoky said. “Looks like an entire heifer.”

  “Well, he asked for the biggest one we had, and that’s what he got,” Ellen answered. “And I’m not worried. We both know Jim. He could eat that steak, another one the same size, and still polish off an entire pie for dessert.”

  “Hey, don’t exaggerate,” Jim protested. “I might have to leave a few beans on my plate to be able to do that.”

  “I’m not so certain about that,” Ellen said, with a laugh. “Well, enjoy your meal. I’l
l be back to check and see when you’re ready for dessert.”

  “I’m certain we will. We always do,” Jim said. “Thanks, Ellen.”

  Usually having to eat in a hurry when on the trail, Jim and Smoky lingered over their supper. They took more than an hour to savor the tasty dishes Don had prepared.

  “You boys about ready for your pie?” Ellen asked, when she noticed they were just about done eating, only a few scraps left on their plates. Smoky had rolled and lit another quirly.

  “Just about,” Jim said. “Ellen, you mind askin’ Don to come out here for just a minute, if he has the time? Smoke’n I’d like to tell him personally how much we enjoyed our supper.”

  “I’m sure he can visit with you for just couple of minutes. I’ll get him,” Ellen answered.

  Jim and Smoky drained what was left of their coffee while they waited for Ellen to return with her husband. When the kitchen door opened, three men, in cowboy gear, rose from their table and pulled out their six-guns. They spread out to cover the room.

  “Don’t anybody dare move. We’ll plug the first one who tries anythin’,” the evident leader ordered. Jim and Smoky started for their guns, but thought better of it. With the restaurant being so crowded, they couldn’t take a chance on trying for the apparent robbers. Their bullets might well hit an innocent bystander, instead of one of the outlaws. They would just have to bide their time, and wait for an opportunity to stop the holdup.

  Don and Ellen had come out of the kitchen, and stopped short when the leader leveled his pistol at them.

  “You two, get over here,” he ordered. “We want all the money from your cash box. Get it, and quick. If you don’t, we’ll start pluggin’ your customers, one at a time.”

  “All right. All right, Mister,” Don answered. “I don’t want to see anyone get hurt. I’ll get you the money. It’s right over here, under the counter.”

  “Get a sack, and put it in there,” the leader ordered.

  “Sure. Sure,” Don said. “Just please, I’m askin’ again, don’t harm any of my customers.”

  The leader shoved Don behind the counter, following him closely. Don reached under it, pulled out the cash box… and a large meat fork. He spun, and drove the fork into the outlaw’s belly. Don was a big, powerful man, a former track layer for the Texas and Pacific Railroad. He put that fork into the outlaw’s gut with all the strength he had, shoving it deep into his intestines. The outlaw howled, dropped his gun, grabbed his belly, doubled over, and fell to the floor.

  Reacting instantly, before the other two men could recover from their surprise at seeing their leader go down, Jim and Smoky leapt from their chairs, pulled their pistols, and shot. Each hit his target squarely in the chest. Smoky’s man was slammed back into the wall by the impact of the bullet. He slid slowly to the floor, then toppled onto his side. Jim’s spun a half-circle, then pitched to his face.

  “Don’t anyone run. Everything’s all right,” Jim said, as people, beginning to panic, started to rise from their seats to flee the restaurant. “Everybody stay right where you are, until we check these men. We don’t want anyone gettin’ hurt by bein’ trampled. Don, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Jim. Just a bit shaken up, that’s all.”

  “What about you, Ellen?”

  “I’ll be all right, after my nerves settle,” she said.

  “Good. Smoke, let’s make certain these hombres don’t have any fight left in ’em. Don, if that sidewinder tries to move, you stick him again,” Jim said. The outlaw Don had stabbed was lying curled up on his side, whimpering with pain, his hands wrapped around the fork still stuck in his gut.

  “I don’t think he’s goin’ anywhere, but I’ll keep an eye on him,” Don assured him.

  “Bueno.” Jim and Smoky examined the men they had shot, finding them already dead. They headed across the room, to where Don stood over the one he had downed.

  “You took an awful chance there, Don,” Jim said.

  “I realize that. But he was gonna kill me, no matter whether I gave him the cash or not,” Don answered. “I could see it in his eyes, and he’d already thumbed back the hammer of his gun. His finger was twitchin’ on the trigger.”

  “Don’t matter none, things worked out all right,” Smoky said. He looked at the wounded outlaw.

  “Mister, your pards are dead. If you pull through, you’re facin’ a long time in Huntsville. Texas Ranger. You’re under arrest.”

  “You’re… you’re a… Ranger?” the man choked out. “Don’t see… any… badge.”

  “Both of us are,” Smoky replied, nodding at Jim. “We were both off duty, so we weren’t wearin’ our badges. Came into town for a nice, relaxin’ evenin’, startin’ with a good supper. You and your pards sure ruined our plans.”

  “Besides, lots of Rangers don’t even wear badges,” Jim added. He and Smoky were two of the few who did, silver star on silver circle badges hand-carved from Mexican cinco peso coins. He turned to face the door when it flew open, and San Leanna Town Marshal Tom Colburn raced in. He carried a double-barreled Greener, with both hammers cocked.

  “What in blue blazes is goin’ on here?” he demanded. “Drop those guns, both of you.”

  “Hey, easy, Tom,” Jim said. “You don’t want to plug me or Smoke, do you?”

  “No, I sure don’t,” Tom answered, with a sheepish grin. “Yelled orders before I recognized you two. What the devil happened?”

  “Well, first, you might want to lower that scattergun, and uncock those hammers, Tom, before it goes off.” Jim answered. “We’ve got everythin’ under control.” He nodded at the three men sprawled on the restaurant’s floor. “These three tried to rob the place. Might’ve gotten away with it, too, except Don put a fork through one’s guts. That gave me’n Smoke the chance to down the other two.”

  “I’m surprised you let ’em get the drop on you,” Tom answered, as he lowered the Greener and eased down the hammers.

  “Our fault,” Smoky said, shaking his head in disgust. “We were a bit too relaxed. You know how it is, Tom. We were home, and San Leanna hardly ever has any trouble, so we weren’t lookin’ for any. Boy howdy, I’d reckon we won’t make that mistake again.”

  “You can bet your hat on it,” Jim added.

  “How about these three? What kinda shape are they in?” Tom asked.

  “The two we nailed are dead,” Jim answered. “The other one’s in bad shape, I’d imagine.”

  “Anyone go for Doc Watson?”

  “I sent my dishwasher, Pedro, for him,” Don answered. “He should be here in a few minutes.”

  “All right,” Tom said. He turned at the sound of hard-ridden horses coming to a sliding stop out front. A moment later, two of his deputies, Joe Fleming and Bob Fairbanks, rushed into the restaurant.

  “Sorry, Tom,” Joe said. “We were clear on the other side of town, when we found out about the ruckus. Got here as soon as we heard. You still need us?”

  “That’s all right. The excitement’s all over,” Tom answered. “Jim Blawcyzk and Smoky McCue happened to be havin’ supper here when three hombres tried to hold up the place. Two of ’em are done for, and we’re waitin’ for the doc to see how bad the other one’s hurt. Don stuck a meat fork right in his brisket. But, as long as you two are here, you mind takin’ those bodies down to Stevenson’s? I’d imagine they’re ruinin’ folks’ appetites.”

  “Sure, we’ll handle that chore,” Joe said. “C’mon, Bob, let’s drag these sorry carcasses out of here and load ’em on our horses.”

  “All right,” Bob agreed. Each man lifted a body under its shoulders and dragged it outside. They had no sooner removed them when Dr. Collin Watson hurried in, carrying his medical bag. Right behind him was Pedro Gonzalez, the dishwasher, who was gasping for breath, after his desperate run to the physician’s office.

  “I understand you had a bit of shooting trouble here, Don,” he said. Watson was young, slightly shorter than average, with close-cropped dark, wavy hair,
and spectacles framing his dark eyes. He was considered one of San Leanna’s most eligible bachelors.

  “We certainly did, Doc,” Don answered. “Three men tried to rob the place. Jim and Smoky got two of ’em. The third one’s lyin’ right over here.”

  Watson crossed the room and knelt beside the badly wounded man.

  He tsked softly.

  “I didn’t know the Texas Rangers were using forks for weapons now,” he said.

  “We aren’t,” Jim answered. He and Smoky were now alongside the doctor. “Don did that, and if he hadn’t, you probably would’ve had a lot more wounded to treat… and most likely some folks to pronounce dead.”

  “Indeed.” Watson lifted an eyebrow. “Well, at least you didn’t pull the fork out of this one’s abdomen,” he said. “That would have caused even more damage, and more rapid bleeding. As it is, I doubt I’ll be able to save him. It appears the damage to his intestines is too severe. I’ll know better once I have him in my office, where I can examine him more thoroughly.”

  “It don’t matter whether… or not I live… or… die,” the wounded outlaw gasped. “You’ll pay for this. This… entire town’s gonna… pay… for what… y’all… did.”

  “I’ve heard that kind of talk plenty of times before, Mister,” Jim answered. “It doesn’t mean anythin’. Only one you might want to talk with is your Maker, in case you do cash in your chips.”

  “Go ahead and scoff… Ranger. Mark… my words. This town’s gonna… be sorry it… ever crossed us.”

  “Tom, if I’m to have any chance at all of saving this man’s life, we need to get him to my office, and I mean right now,” Watson said.

  “All right.” The marshal chose two men. “Hank, Murray, give me a hand gettin’ this jasper to the doc’s. The rest of you, go on about your business. If you still have appetites after what happened here tonight, finish your suppers. If not, go on home. I might need statements from everyone who was a witness, but I doubt it. If I do, I’ll let you know. Don, Jim, Smoky, what happened seems pretty clear cut. I reckon you can wait until mornin’ to give me your statements. Might as well hold off until we see if Doc can pull this hombre through. Is there anythin’ I should know before I leave, though?”