The Family Jensen # 1

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The Family Jensen # 1 Page 26

by William W. Johnstone


  Preacher frowned and said, “What in blazes are you talkin’ about, mister?”

  “He means that if Bannerman gets away with stealing the Crows’ land, it’ll just be the first step,” Smoke said. “Members of this so-called Indian Ring will start grabbing Indian land all over the West, taking it by force if they have to.”

  “That’s right,” Halliday said with another nod. “Bannerman’s landgrab is a test case, so to speak.”

  Preacher shook his head. “I still don’t understand. Folks’ve been stealin’ Injun land for years now, and they usually pretend that it’s all legal-like because o’ broken treaties and what not.”

  “Yes, but if the men behind this have their way, they won’t even bother doing that anymore. They’ll just take the land and dare anyone to do anything about it. I’ve heard rumors they won’t stop there. The ultimate goal seems to be the destruction of all the Indian tribes west of the Mississippi.”

  The other three men stared at Halliday for a few seconds following that statement. Then Matt said, “That’s crazy! They can’t do that.”

  “They might be able to with the army backing them,” Smoke said. “There are still some Indian wars going on in places.”

  “But we’ve never tried to wipe out whole tribes!”

  Preacher said, “No, we just force ’em onto reservations where they might as well be dead.” The old mountain man’s voice held a bitter edge, and Smoke knew that was because Preacher had spent so much time with the Indians over the decades, sometimes living with them for years at a stretch.

  “I reckon we can argue about whether or not they can get away with it all we want to,” Smoke said, “but the important thing is that if they try, there’ll be a hell of a lot of blood spilled along the way, no matter how things turn out.”

  “That’s exactly right,” Halliday said. “So the thing to do would be to deal them a setback right now, so they’ll think again before they try anything else. However, that’s not what my employers are advising, Mr. Jensen.”

  Smoke frowned. “What do they think we ought to do?”

  “The firm has concluded that Bannerman and his associates are too powerful to oppose. Their official advice is that you don’t try.”

  Preacher let out a loud snort of disgust. “Give up? What the hell kinda lawyers you got, Smoke?”

  “It wouldn’t be ethical of them to advise a client to go against his best interests,” Halliday went on.

  “What about the best interests of Crazy Bear and his people?” Smoke asked.

  Halliday shrugged. “They’re not clients.”

  “You said that was the official advice,” Matt pointed out. “What about some unofficial advice?”

  That brought a slight smile to Halliday’s face. “Unofficially, I’ve learned that a federal judge is on his way here to Buffalo Flat even as we speak to rule on the matter of whether or not the Crow have a valid claim to the land. He should be coming in on tomorrow’s stagecoach. Someone named Sandor Little Bear wrote and requested a hearing more than a month ago. He must have known this showdown was coming.”

  “What good will it do to have a hearing if everybody connected to Washington is on the side of the Indian Ring?” Smoke asked.

  “Not everyone is. This particular circuit court judge isn’t. He has a reputation as an honest man, and if he rules against Bannerman, it’ll be a blow to the Ring. His name is Judge Errol Starr.”

  “Does Bannerman know about this?”

  “He does. A lawyer sent out here by the Indian Ring came in on the same stagecoach I did a few days ago. He’ll be representing Bannerman.”

  Smoke’s brain struggled to make sense of all the dizzying new developments. He had believed it was a relatively clear-cut case of a powerful rancher trying to grab more range for himself. What with Sandy’s revelation that he had filed a legal claim on the land, followed by Halliday’s information concerned the so-called new Indian Ring, the situation had taken on a lot more scope while at the same time becoming murkier. The clash between Crazy Bear and Reece Bannerman had national implications and might well involve the fate of the entire frontier.

  “So what do we need to do?” Matt asked.

  Smoke turned that question over in his head. As far as he could see, there were two things that needed attention.

  “Matt, you and Preacher ought to head back out to Crazy Bear’s village,” he said. “Sandy’s the one making the claim on the land, and if anything happens to him, the case will fall apart. Bannerman has to know that, so he’s liable to take things into his own hands again and try to get rid of Sandy before the judge can get here. To do that, he’s got to attack the entire village, so he may decide just to wipe it off the face of the earth and be done with it.”

  Preacher said, “He could prob’ly get away with it, too, if he’s got such all-fired powerful friends.”

  “I don’t know the man,” Halliday said, “but based on what I’ve heard, I wouldn’t put anything past him.”

  Matt said, “What about you, Smoke?”

  “We’ve seen plenty of evidence that Bannerman doesn’t want to take a chance on the case being heard by a judge. If he knows this fella Starr is on his way to Buffalo Flat, he might send some of his men to stop him. The judge can’t rule against Bannerman if he’s dead. So Halliday and I will ride out in the morning and meet the stagecoach to make sure it gets here safely.”

  Halliday grunted. “I don’t recall volunteering my services, Jensen. How do you know I can even ride?”

  “Well, can you?” Smoke asked.

  “As a matter of fact, yes,” Halliday replied with a shrug. “All right. It’s not really part of my job, but I’ll admit that I’d like to see Bannerman’s face if the ruling goes against him.”

  “Then all we have to do,” Smoke said, “is make sure that everybody gets to the hearing all right.”

  “The hearin’ that Bannerman and all his hired guns are gonna be doin’ their damnedest to stop,” Preacher pointed out.

  Smoke smiled. “Well…I never said it would be easy.”

  Chapter 34

  As soon as they had gotten something to eat and let their horses rest for a while, Matt and Preacher left Smoke in Buffalo Flat with Halliday and headed back to Crazy Bear’s village.

  “We may have to dodge some of Bannerman’s gun-wolves along the way,” Matt commented as they rode out of the settlement.

  “Might even have to kill a few of ’em,” Preacher said. “Which would be just fine with me. That’ll be however many it is we won’t have to kill later.”

  “You still think it’ll come to that if we manage to get that hearing to take place and the judge rules in favor of the Crows?”

  “Them are a couple of mighty big ifs,” Preacher said. “And yeah, even if both them things happen, I don’t expect Bannerman to swallow ’em and let it go. I’ve seen greedy sons o’ bitches like him before. When it comes down to the nub, he’ll try to take what he wants, and everything else be damned.”

  Matt nodded. “You’re probably right.”

  “I know I am,” Preacher said.

  They had gone several miles up the valley, following the no-man’s-land that ran between the creeks, when they spotted half a dozen riders on their right, about three hundred yards away.

  “Preacher…” Matt said warningly.

  “I see ’em,” the old mountain man said. “Probably spotted ’em before you did. You reckon they’re some o’ Bannerman’s bunch?”

  The men suddenly spurred toward them, urging their horses forward at a gallop.

  “That’s all the proof I need!” Matt said. “Let’s go!”

  They wheeled their mounts to the left and leaned forward in the saddles as they sent the horses racing across the grassy valley. The closest cover was at least half a mile away, where cottonwoods grew along the creek. If they could reach the trees, they would stand a chance of fighting off Bannerman’s men.

  Spirit and Horse both stretched out and ran,
and while Preacher’s gray stallion wasn’t the equal of some of the horses he’d had in the past, he was almost as fast as Matt’s sorrel. Matt held Spirit back a little so he wouldn’t leave the old mountain man behind.

  The faint crackle of gunfire reached their ears. Preacher looked over his shoulder and saw the orange winks of muzzle flame and the little puffs of smoke. He laughed.

  “They ain’t gonna hit us at this range!” he called over the pounding hoofbeats. “They ain’t gonna catch us, neither!”

  Matt saw that was true. It took only a few minutes to reach the creek. In that time, the pursuers had closed the gap slightly, but they were still well out of handgun range and they hadn’t stopped and dismounted to use their rifles.

  Matt and Preacher swung out of the saddles as their horses continued across the creek, splashing through the cold, clear water. The duo carried their rifles back to the trees and crouched behind the trunks.

  Preacher had brought his Winchester instead of his Sharps. “Range is too short for that Big Fifty o’ mine!” he said as he levered a round into the repeater’s firing chamber. “I can make do with this piddlin’ little Winchester.”

  Matt grinned as he worked the lever on his rifle and then lifted the weapon to his shoulder. “If everything was so much better in the old day,” he said, “why don’t you still carry a flintlock?”

  “Don’t think I ain’t thought about it!” Preacher snapped. He pressed his grizzled cheek against the smooth wood of the stock, squinted as he sighted over the Winchester’s barrel, then pressed the trigger. The rifle cracked wickedly as it kicked against his shoulder. One of the onrushing gunmen jerked in the saddle but managed to stay mounted as he slowed his horse and hunched over in pain. “When a ball from one o’ them old muzzle-loaders hit you, you went down no matter where you was hit!”

  Matt began to fire, too. The two men poured a steady stream of lead into their attackers for several moments, wounding at least a couple more of Bannerman’s men. The gunnies reined in, turned their horses around, and fled in the face of that withering fire.

  “Look at ’em turn tail and run!” Preacher whooped.

  “Yeah, they’ll be running right back to Bannerman to tell him that we’re on our way to the Crow village,” Matt pointed out. “We’d better get moving before Bannerman sends more men up here to cut us off.”

  They whistled their horses back to them, mounted up, and headed north again. They had asked a lot of their mounts. Spirit and Horse were getting tired. But it wasn’t too much farther to Crazy Bear’s village. Once they got there, the horses would be able to rest.

  Matt was a little surprised they didn’t run into any more of Bannerman’s hired killers on the way, but he and Preacher reached the village late that afternoon without any more trouble. The barking dogs announced their arrival as usual. At least forty warriors appeared, some armed with rifles, the others with bows and arrows, just in case the visitors turned out not to be friendly. The men relaxed as they recognized Matt and Preacher.

  Crazy Bear strode forward to greet them, flanked by Sandy and Starwind. “I see you’re up and around again,” Matt said to the chief, who still had bandages wrapped around his midsection.

  “Try making him rest for very long,” Sandy said. “You’ll see what an impossible job that is.”

  “Sort of like getting a federal judge to come in and rule on your claim on this land?” Matt asked as he swung down from Spirit’s back.

  Sandy’s face lit up with excitement. “My request for a hearing has been granted?”

  “Yeah. You didn’t tell us about that.”

  “I would have. I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up in case it never happened. When is the judge supposed to get here?”

  “Tomorrow, if all goes as planned,” Matt said. “Smoke’s going to see that it does. Then we’ll be able to go into town and settle this.”

  Crazy Bear frowned in confusion. “I do not understand,” he said. “Who is this judge you speak of?”

  “He’s a representative of the white man’s government,” Sandy explained. “He decides what’s right and what’s wrong.”

  “You mean he decides that the white man is right and the Indian is wrong,” Crazy Bear rumbled.

  Matt said, “According to what we were told, this particular gent doesn’t think that way. He’ll rule on the facts of the case and follow the law.”

  Crazy Bear shook his head. “When the moose grows wings and learns to soar like the eagle,” he said.

  “I’m with you, Crazy Bear,” Preacher said. “I don’t put no stock in any law but this.” He rested his hand on the butt of his .44.

  “Maybe it will come to that,” Sandy said, “but there’s nothing wrong with trying the other way first.”

  “Unless it gets you killed,” Preacher said.

  Matt said, “That’s why we’re here, to make sure that doesn’t happen. We’ll deliver you to that hearing tomorrow, Sandy, and see what the judge says. After that—”

  “After that, devil take the hindmost,” Preacher said.

  Matt expected trouble. It wouldn’t have surprised him if Bannerman launched an all-out attack on the Crow village during the night or first thing the next morning. Instead, the night passed quietly, and Matt spent some time with Starwind. Neither of them had any intention of settling down, but there was no doubt they enjoyed each other’s company.

  In the morning, Matt went to the lodge where Sandy lived with his wife Robin while they were in the Crow village. He knew the couple also had a house in Buffalo Flat and spent part of their time there, as well as making regular trips back to St. Louis where Sandy continued his efforts to secure funding for an Indian school and perhaps eventually a university on the frontier. There was talk of starting a state university in Laramie, and according to Sandy, that would be a good place for a privately supported Indian university as well. Whether that dream would ever come about was anybody’s guess, but Sandy was working at fulfilling it.

  When Matt called through the entrance flap, Sandy pushed it aside and emerged from the lodge dressed in his town clothes. His hair was cropped shorter than it had been the night before. Robin followed him from the tepee and hugged Matt. Moon Fawn was with her, clutching at her mother’s skirts and smiling shyly at Matt.

  Matt hunkered on his heels and grinned at the little girl. “Remember me?” he asked. She nodded. He pointed at the doll she carried. “How’s Gregor?”

  “He’s fine,” Moon Fawn said. “He wants to go to town.”

  “I’m sorry, little one,” Sandy said. “I’ve told you that it’s too dangerous for you and Gregor to come with me today. You and your mother have to stay here with your grandparents.”

  Robin said, “I don’t like that, Sandy. If you’re going to be risking your life, I should be with you.”

  “I’d rather have you here, so I don’t have to worry about you,” Sandy told her. “It’s dangerous enough, the two of you staying here. We don’t know what Bannerman will do. I’m hoping that he’ll concentrate on what’s happening in town today, rather than out here.”

  Robin put her arms around his neck and pressed herself to him. “Be careful,” she murmured. “You know I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Sandy said. “Matt and Preacher will see to that. Isn’t that right, Matt?”

  “Do my best,” Matt promised.

  Sandy kissed his wife, then knelt to hug and kiss his little girl. Moon Fawn clung to him for a moment. Then Sandy said, “Could I see Gregor for a minute before I go?”

  “Do you want to tell him goodbye, too?” Moon Fawn asked.

  “No, he’s been keeping something for me, and I need to get it back from him.”

  Moon Fawn held out the doll.

  Matt frowned as he watched Sandy slip a couple of fingers under the buckskin outfit the doll wore. There must have been a little slit in Gregor’s body under there, because Sandy appeared to be fishing around inside the
doll. A few seconds later, Sandy withdrew his hand, holding between his fingers a tightly folded piece of paper.

  “What’s that?” Robin asked.

  Sandy gave Gregor back to Moon Fawn and straightened. He unfolded the paper and held it so Robin and Matt could see that it was some sort of official document. A grin began to spread across Matt’s face.

  “Is that the deed to your claim?” he asked.

  Sandy nodded. “Yes. I thought that would be a safe place to keep it, since Moon Fawn always has Gregor with her and no one would think to look inside a doll’s stuffing.”

  “You mean she had it all along when those varmints kidnapped her?”

  “That’s right.”

  Matt laughed and shook his head. “They never knew that what they were looking for was right under their noses. But I reckon you were counting on that, weren’t you?”

  “Exactly.” Sandy folded the document again and put it in a pocket inside his coat. “We should get going. We don’t want to be late for that hearing.”

  The horses were ready, as was Preacher. The old mountain man had been deep in conversation with Crazy Bear while Matt was talking to Sandy, Robin, and Moon Fawn. As Matt and Sandy came up, Preacher said, “We best rattle our hocks. I don’t know what time that stage is supposed to get to town, but I reckon we better be there when it does. That judge is liable to want to start the hearin’ right away.”

  “I hope so,” Sandy said. “The sooner this is settled, the better as far as I’m concerned.”

  “I reckon we all feel the same way,” Matt said.

  The three men mounted up. Preacher waved and called, “So long,” to Crazy Bear. Matt nodded to Starwind, who gave him an encouraging smile. Then they rode out of the village, heading south toward Buffalo Flat.

  Sandy wore a bowler hat to go along with his suit. With the slightly European cast to his features he had inherited from his mother Mala, he didn’t look much like an Indian. That might work in his favor, Matt thought, although legally there wasn’t any reason it should matter.

 

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