Red appeared to be thinking about what to do before turning to go back out the door, but he paused. “What did you mean when you said you don’t think he’ll come back here? You know somethin’ you ain’t tellin’ me?”
Abe could only shrug in response, afraid he had already said too much, but Red’s suspicions were aroused. Not sure exactly what had happened back at the hotel, he did not discount the possibility that the men of the town might have decided to fight back. He spun around and returned to the bar. He grabbed a handful of Abe’s shirt and jerked him halfway across the bar while he whipped out his .44 with his other hand. “You’d better start talkin’ quick, you son of a bitch, before I splatter your brains on that mirror behind you!”
Sufficiently motivated at that point, Abe blurted out. “Yarborough’s locked up in jail!”
“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” Red demanded, the barrel of his pistol barely inches from Abe’s nose. “Who locked him in the jail?” He couldn’t conceive of the possibility of anyone getting the best of Flint Yarborough. It had to be a vigilante action. “How many of ’em are there?”
“It weren’t but one man,” Abe choked out, “the new sheriff, Cole Bonner!”
Hearing the name of the man who busted his nose, Red was stunned for a moment, not sure he had heard Abe correctly. “Who’d you say it was?”
“Cole Bonner, he’s the man that killed Womack’s brothers. He’s the one that killed your friend, Tiny,” Abe sang out, holding nothing back in hopes of coming out of this alive.
His confession caused Red to become confused. “What about Harley Branch?” he sputtered while still holding Abe stretched halfway across the bar. “I thought he was the one chasin’ Troy.”
“Cole Bonner,” Abe repeated.
The name finally sank in Red’s confused mind, and he was not sure it could be the same man that had knocked him senseless at Murphy’s Store. The realization that they were crossing paths again was difficult for him to believe. “This time, things are gonna be a little different,” he vowed and shoved Abe backward, causing the frightened bartender to land on his backside. Red holstered his weapon and headed for the door, striding with confident determination to find Cole Bonner.
Outside, he got no farther than the corner of the building when he was stopped by a scene that was unusual since he and his friends had taken over the town. A mob of people were coming down the middle of the street from the hotel. At the head of the parade, he saw Troy Womack, his hands tied behind his back, being herded along by a tall, rangy fellow holding a rifle in his back.
At once cautious, Red stepped back into the shadow of the building. It looked for all the world like a lynch mob and the worst thing that could have happened to him and his partners—the vigilante committee had gotten the backbone to reorganize their hanging party.
“Damn,” he cursed under his breath, his hand automatically falling to rest on the handle of his pistol. There was no question as to what he should do at that moment. He couldn’t take on the whole mob of vigilantes.
He hesitated to run for a moment longer when the mob stopped at the jail and waited there while the rangy fellow herded Womack through the door. So it wasn’t a lynching, at least not right away. It appeared they were going to lock Troy up with Yarborough, if Abe was telling the truth and Yarborough was in jail.
Red’s choices were still few, only one that made sense actually. With nothing he could do against that many men, he had to become scarce and damn quickly at that. He needed to think about what he should do about Yarborough and Womack, if anything, or should he just head for parts unknown while he still had the chance?
Suddenly, Red became angry when he realized how this stranger Abe had called Cole Bonner had managed to pick the three of them off one by one. He was the only one left. Cole Bonner was the name of the man he had first seen at Murphy’s Store, but that man looked like an Indian or a half-breed. The man he was seeing now wore no buckskins and had short hair.
If they had stayed together, the four of them could have stood up to any number of do-gooder town folk. Maybe they could still do it. Tiny was dead, but Red thought if he could spring Yarborough and Womack from jail, the three of them would still be too much for the good citizens of Cheyenne to take down. And they could go ahead with their original plan to rape the town, a town that seemed so ripe for the picking. Hell, I ain’t ready to give up yet, he declared to himself, his decision more than a little influenced by the desire to retaliate against the town.
The first thing he thought to do was to get out of sight while he studied the situation over. Reversing his path, he hurried back down the muddy street toward Leon Bloodworth’s stable, glad now that they had not decided to keep their horses in the hotel’s tiny stable. He was more determined than before to settle with the man called Cole Bonner. But he decided he had to be smart about it and wait for an opportunity when he would have the best chance of not being caught.
There was no one at the stable but Leon’s son, Marvin, when Red hurried inside after pausing to make sure no one had spotted him. The young boy froze when he turned around to see the menacing gunman confronting him. His father had run to join the gang of citizens escorting Troy Womack to jail.
“What the hell are you gapin’ at?” Red demanded. “Get your ass out there and get my horse outta that corral.” When Marvin frantically replied that he didn’t know which horse was his, Red hesitated just for a second before declaring, “The gray, bring me the damn gray.”
The gray was Troy’s horse, but it was a better horse than the roan Red had been riding. It might prove impossible to get Troy and Yarborough out of jail, so he decided he might as well take the best horse in case he had to hightail it. Thinking that a smart decision, he followed Marvin into the tack room and showed him which bridle was his. Then while the boy went to the corral, Red picked up his saddle and walked out between the stalls to wait for Marvin to fetch the gray.
While he saddled Troy’s horse, he tried to decide what to do next. It was still fairly early in the day, and daylight was not his friend if he thought to hole up somewhere in town where he could see what was going on. He desperately needed to get back in his room in the hotel to pick up his extra ammunition and his saddlebags, but there was little chance of that without being seen by someone and getting trapped inside. Whether he ran or stayed to help his friends, he was reluctant to leave all his possibles in the hotel room. He was still of the opinion that, if he could free Yarborough and Womack, the three of them would be more than a match for the vigilantes. And if they could knock off this Cole Bonner fellow, it would be easier still. He decided it worthwhile to give it a shot, but he had to hole up somewhere and wait for darkness, so he could move about town without being seen.
Even though it appeared the menacing outlaw was leaving for good, Marvin could not find the courage to ask for payment of his stable fees. Relieved to see his departure, he stepped back well out of the way when Red stepped up into the saddle and wheeled the gray around to leave through the back door of the stable. Taking the same path that Harley had taken when he was thinking to escape the four outlaws, Red headed out back of the town toward Crow Creek. His only plan was to find a good spot to wait out the day, then, under the cover of darkness, return to look the jail over. If possible, he might try to somehow find a way to break Yarborough and Troy out of there.
* * *
While the day dragged by for Red Swann, it moved at a more rapid pace for the folks back in town. Motivated to help now that the odds were much more in their favor, Jim Low and John Beecher volunteered their time to stand guard at the jail, while Cole searched the town, looking for the one remaining gunman. His first stop, after checking with Abe at the Cowboy’s Rest, was the stables, where young Marvin Bloodworth told him of Red’s departure. It appeared that Swann had opted to skip town before risking the fate of his two cohorts in crime. Cole combed every shop and saloon in town, anyway, and had to conclude that Red had, indeed, decided to run fo
r it. That might be good news for the town, but Cole was not ready to permit the ruthless outlaw to get away with shooting Harley, even if it meant another long chase.
After satisfying himself that Red was not hiding in town at the present time, Cole went to Dr. Marion’s office on the edge of town to see how Harley was doing. He found Mary Lou in the parlor when he walked in. “How’s he doin’?” Cole asked.
“He’s still alive is all Doc will say right now,” Mary Lou answered. “I just brought some food from the hotel for him and Doc. Doc was glad to get it. He’s in the kitchen eating now, but Harley ain’t in any shape to eat. How about you? Are you hungry?”
Cole hadn’t thought about it before she asked. “No, I don’t reckon. I could use some coffee, though. Got any of that?”
“We’ve got plenty of that,” she replied. “Doc doesn’t have a thimbleful of food in the whole house, but he does have coffee. Come on. I’ll get you a cup, and you can ask Doc about Harley.”
Cole wasn’t surprised to hear about the lack of food in the house. Doc Marion was a bachelor and usually ate all his meals at the hotel.
“I’m surprised you aren’t at the meeting,” Doc greeted Cole when he followed Mary Lou into the kitchen. When Cole replied that he wasn’t aware of any meeting, Doc went on to inform him. “The one at the hotel. His Honor, the mayor, called for a meeting to decide what to do with your prisoners. Seems he and Douglas Green have decided to crawl out of their holes since you took the outlaws off the street—holding a trial for them, I imagine. Douglas told me that Gordon Luck had showed up to go to the meeting. He said Gordon told him that he owed the town an apology for not jumping in to help before this.”
That was especially surprising to Cole. Gordon had evidently had a confrontation with his conscience. Maybe it might have been a move toward getting Carrie involved with the community. He was surprised that Gordon would have left her alone at his house up on Crow Creek.
“No, I didn’t know a meetin’ was called,” Cole repeated and took the cup of coffee Mary Lou handed him. “I reckon it’s up to the town, what they do with those two.” He shifted the conversation to a matter he was more concerned about. “What about Harley? Is he gonna make it?” He wasn’t overly interested in what the men of the town decided to do with Yarborough and Womack. The only one of the three who held his burning interest was Red Swann, and he was sworn to make him pay for his attack on Harley.
Doc paused to pull a tough piece of bacon rind out of his mouth, examining it for a moment before scraping it off his finger on the edge of his plate. “I don’t know for certain. I had to go pretty deep for that one in his chest. That man musta been standing right in front of Harley when he shot him. I got the bullet out of him, but it made such a mess, I’m not sure if it tore his lung up or not. We’ll just have to wait and see how he does today and tonight and see if he’s still with us tomorrow. I don’t think we’ll have to wait much longer than that to know for sure.”
“That don’t sound too good,” Cole said.
Doc shook his head. “It’s all up to Harley now, him and his Maker. I’ve done all I can do.”
“I’m sure you have, Doc. Can I see him now?”
“He might not be awake,” Doc said. He got up from his chair then and led Cole and Mary Lou into his surgery where Harley was still lying on the table. “Now that you can help me, I think it’d be a good idea to move him off my table and put him on that cot.” He nodded toward a cot in a corner of the room. “It’ll be a lot more comfortable for him.”
As carefully as they could manage, the three of them transferred Harley to the cot. His eyes remained closed until he was settled onto the cotton mattress. Cole wasn’t sure if he was dead or alive until his eyelids fluttered briefly and he asked the same question as before.
“Did you get him?”
Cole said no but promised that he would before it was over.
“Hurts like hell,” Harley muttered painfully. “I believe he kilt me, but if he didn’t, Doc’s tryin’ to finish the job for him.” That seemed to be all the talking he could manage for the moment. He closed his eyes again.
Cole couldn’t help but smile, looking down at the little man. Thunder Mouse, he thought. He’s gonna make it. “You just do what Doc tells you and rest up, and I’ll be back to see you.”
Mary Lou walked out with him as far as the front porch. “Doc didn’t say anything about Carrie when he was telling you about Gordon coming in. But I know you’re interested in what happens to her, and in case you’re wondering, Carrie came in with Gordon. She’s staying at the dining room with Maggie and me till Gordon comes back for her.”
Cole nodded slowly in reply and Mary Lou switched to another subject, one she was more interested in. “I guess you’re going looking for that other killer now.”
Again, he nodded in reply.
“Don’t suppose he’s already left this part of the country,” she went on. “And you’ll go after him even if he has.”
“If he left a trail,” he said.
“I hope to hell he didn’t,” she replied.
“I promised Harley,” he protested.
“I know,” she sighed impatiently. “Just don’t get yourself killed.” She turned about and went back inside.
CHAPTER 14
“How are the prisoners doin’?” Cole asked Jim Low when he got back to the sheriff’s office. He looked at the cell room where the two were sitting, sulking silently at that moment.
“They ain’t exactly enjoyin’ it,” Jim said with a grin. “And they’re bellyachin’ about bein’ hungry. What are we gonna do about feedin’ ’em? Pete Little said the hotel dinin’ room always fed prisoners when John Henry was sheriff. Reckon Maggie will feed these two?”
“I reckon,” Cole said, realizing there was more to being sheriff than simply arresting people. “I’ll talk to Maggie about it.”
Seeing Cole walk in, Yarborough got up from his cot and stepped up to the bars. “You might be thinkin’ you’ve pulled a smart one on us, Bonner, but you mighta just signed your own death certificate. If you had a lick of sense, you’d know that I’m the only one who can save your life.”
Cole did not reply, choosing to pause and look at him, waiting for him to continue.
“You didn’t catch our partner, did you?” When Cole still did not answer, Yarborough went on. “You ain’t gonna catch him, neither. You ain’t even gonna see him till he’s ready for you to, and it’ll be too late for you to stop the bullet with your name on it.”
Ignoring Yarborough’s ranting, Cole turned to Pete Little, who had returned to claim his prior duties at the jail. “Looks like you fellows are in good shape here. I’m goin’ to the hotel now and talk to Maggie about feedin’ these two birds.” He turned to Jim Low. “You all right, Jim?”
“Everything’s under control here,” Jim assured him.
Cole nodded and turned toward the door.
“You’d best listen to what I’m tellin’ you!” Yarborough bellowed. “I’m the only one who can keep you from gettin’ a bullet in the back, ’cause Red Swann will come after you unless I tell him not to shoot you. And I’m ready to make a deal with you. It’s your town, and I’ll call Red off if you turn me and Troy loose.” When there was still no response from Cole, he made one promise more. “And we’ll ride outta here and never come back. How’s that? You get to live and we won’t bother this town no more.”
Finally, Cole made a verbal response. “You’re wastin’ a lotta wind, Yarborough. What happens to you two ain’t up to me. Matter of fact, I heard the town council was meetin’ this mornin’ to decide what to do with you. I doubt they’ll decide to set you free.”
Yarborough heard the last word as the door was closing behind Cole. Cole could still hear his cursing as he stepped up into the saddle. He was anxious to search for some evidence of Red’s trail before it turned cold, but had to delay it until he made arrangements for his prisoners to be fed.
* * *
Arthur Campbell intercepted Cole when he saw him come into the hotel on his way to the dining room. “Cole,” he called out. “Can I have a word with you?”
Cole stopped and waited for him.
“I don’t know if you heard or not, but we’ve just come out of a meeting of the town council, and it has a lot to do with you.”
“Is that so?” Cole replied. “How’s that?”
“Well, we’ve got two dangerous criminals locked up in our jail and you’re the man that put them there.”
“Are you tellin’ me you’ve got a problem with that?” Cole asked, frankly surprised. He thought the whole town would be glad to have the troublemakers off their streets.
“No, no,” Campbell was quick to reply. “No problem. What I wanted to tell you is the town can’t survive without an effective sheriff. And the council voted unanimously to offer that job to you because we all agreed we aren’t likely to find a man more qualified than you to fill that position.”
Beyond surprised, Cole was astonished. He didn’t know what to say. It was something he never had even the most remote thought about. His abrupt confiscation of the sheriff’s office was done with no expectation beyond ridding the town of the outlaws holding it hostage. “Damn,” he swore. “I ain’t ever thought about bein’ a peace officer.”
“One of the things that came up in the council’s discussion was the fact that you made it a point to arrest both of the men in jail now, instead of simply shooting them down like dogs,” Campbell said. “That indicated a responsible officer of the law and not a hired gunman, like the men you put in jail. My boy, Sonny, just came from the jail a few minutes ago and he said he heard you tell Yarborough that a jury would decide what to do with him and the other one. Well, that jury has already decided and the verdict is death by hanging for the killing of John Henry Black and Harvey Settles. It’s scheduled for tomorrow morning at eight o’clock.” Cole showed little surprise, so Campbell emphasized the difference. “I know they’re gonna end up dead, whether you shot them or not, but this way they got their trial, like it should be in a civilized territory. Like I said, we want you to take that job, so whaddaya say? Hell, you’ve already taken over the responsibilities.”
Massacre at Crow Creek Crossing Page 23
