Hard Justice

by Mike McNeff

  Jasper sat on the bunk in his cell. He knew things would come to a head tomorrow or the next day and he had to be ready. He stood and walked to the cell door. No one was around.

  He sat back down and lifted the fringed leather flap around the top of his left moccasin. He removed a .41 Remington double barrel derringer from the pocket and checked the loaded rounds. Satisfied they were in good shape he put the gun back in his moccasin.

  The right moccasin held his dirk. He ran the blade lightly over the top of his hand, shaving hair. It was razor sharp. He put it back into its sheath.

  Jasper leaned back against the wall and thought of Gale. He wished he could hold her and tell her how much he loved her. He was playing a close game that he just might lose.

  He didn’t know just when he would make his move. He would only get one chance. Things needed to come together just right.

  Bart Moore and the governor had to be within gun range and he needed a horse for his escape.

  His thoughts turned to Willis. If he didn’t show tomorrow he was likely dead. Jasper hoped not. He was getting to like the little guy.

  The sun was setting when Stan and his group met Claw Of The Eagle leading a group of riders and wagons about two miles from Kentville.

  “Stan Barstow, this is my sister, Gale Lee,” the warrior said. “Gale, Stan Barstow is the United States Marshal.”

  Stan tipped his hat. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Lee.”

  She held out her hand and gave him a firmer handshake than he expected. “Nice to meet you, too, Marshal. We’re here to get Jasper and take him home.” Gale Lee sat with her back straight as an arrow, her jaw set firm under flashing, defiant eyes.

  “I’m sure you are, Mrs. Lee.”

  Stan turned to the group that spread across the road and took up a quarter of the field. “Folks, we’re dealing with very dangerous people. How many here are armed?” Everyone, including the women, raised their hand. “All right, I have federal warrants for the arrest of Governor Cornell Norris and his gang, but we have to approach the situation carefully.”

  He turned to Captain Anthony. “Captain could you and your men take these folks to an encampment until morning? We don’t want to arouse suspicion with this group getting there all together.”

  “We’ll take care of it, Marshal.”

  “Folks, I want you to follow the soldiers to a place where you can camp for the night. I expect they’re going to try to hang Jasper tomorrow or the next day. When they move him to the gallows we’ll move in and arrest them all as they should all be there. Black Feather, Wind Runner and Claw Of The Eagle are my deputies…follow their directions.”

  Claw Of The Eagle looked from Stan to Black Feather to Wind Runner and back again.

  Wind Runner showed him the badge on his chest.

  “I need to swear you in as a deputy U.S. Marshal.” Stan handed the warrior his commission papers. “Raise your right hand.”

  The clan members with the party murmured excitedly.

  Claw Of The Eagle nudged his mount to Stan who swore him in as the clan members looked on with beaming faces.

  “Marshal,” Gale Lee said after the swearing in was complete, “you should know that my husband is the Sheriff of Cassidy County.”

  “What?”

  Al Dolan sat up in the bed of the wagon Gale was driving. “Marshal, my name is Al Dolan. Claire Dolan, my daughter, was raped and murdered by Bart Moore and his men. We appointed Jasper sheriff so he could go after them as a lawman.”

  “How come he didn’t tell me that in Lowell Town?”

  “He doesn’t know it yet.”

  Stan laughed. “There sure is a lot of appointing going on without the appointee knowing about it. Well, this is going to make things even more interesting.”

  “Marshal, the man in the litter is Harry Wells. He used to ride with Bart Moore, he has evidence,” Claw Of The Eagle said.

  Stan dismounted and walked over to Harry. “You know something about Moore, Mr. Wells?”

  “I do. I heard him braggin’ about killin’ Jasper’s kin and the Dolan girl. I don’t want to say everything he told me in front of the girl’s kin. He also allowed how his uncle, the governor, was goin’ to solve his problems, includin’ gettin’ rid of Jasper.”

  “Will you testify to that?”

  “Yes, sir, Marshal. I surely will.”

  Stan got back on his horse. “Okay folks let’s get moving.”

  It was after nightfall when Stan and his deputies brought Willis to Doctor Scoville’s house. Stan knocked on the door and after some time Doctor Scoville answered.

  “What is it?” He held a lantern high enough to shine in Stan’s eyes.

  “US Marshal, Doctor. Sorry to disturb you, but I have Willis Harwick in that litter. He’s been shot in the head.”

  “Lord, I warned him not to go,” the doctor hurried to the litter. He held the lantern over Willis’ head and moved the bandages. “We need to get him inside.”

  Stan and Wind Runner carried Willis into the house.

  “This way please.” Dr. Scoville led them to the back of the house to his clinic room. They lifted Willis from the litter and laid him on the examination table. In the light of the room Stan could see the doctor was taken aback by Wind Runner’s size and fierce visage.

  “Doctor, my name is Stan Barstow and this man is one of my deputies, Wind Runner.”

  The doctor nodded and turned to Stan. “Marshal, the rumor is you’re dead.”

  “Almost doctor, but thanks to my new deputies I survived the attack.”

  Scoville waved smelling salts under Willis’ nose and the young lawyer jerked to consciousness.

  “Willis, it’s me, Amos.”

  Willis looked around until his eyes focused on the doctor. “Amos, it’s good to see you.”

  “It’s good to see you, too, Willis, as I thought I might never see you again.”

  Willis squeezed his eyes shut. “Oooh, my head!”

  The doctor went to a cabinet and took out a bottle of pills. He cut one in half and crushed one of the halves into a powder. He gave the other half to Willis with a glass of water poured from a pitcher next to the examination table.

  “Here Willis, swallow this. It will make your headache fade in a few minutes.”

  “What is it?”

  “Opium.”

  The doctor poured water into the tiniest saucer Stan had ever seen then brought it and the opium powder back to the table. He dipped the end of his index finger in the water, pressed it into the powder then gently rubbed the opium onto Willis’ wound. Either the pressure of the doctor’s finger or the sting of the opium caused Willis to take a sharp breath.

  “Sorry,” the doctor said, “but the pain will stop shortly.”

  The doctor finished applying the opium. “How’s that?”

  Willis made a crooked smile “Feels better.”

  “Good. Now I can clean and treat the wound. It may still hurt some.”

  Willis took a deep breath. “Go ahead.”

  When Doctor Scoville finished, Stan approached him.

  “Doctor, I imagine you have a feel for the townsfolk here.”

  “Yes, Marshal, I think I do.”

  “What do they think about the governor and his friends?”

  “They’re all basically despised. Unfortunately, the governor seems to be able to get the votes…or at least get the ballot boxes stuffed.”

  “I think I can solve that problem but I need some help. Do you have folks here you can trust?”

  “Absolutely. Most people in this town are decent and law abiding. They want things to change but objecting in public can result in a short life span.”

  “The kind of help I need right now is not the public kind. I need people who can move around and in the courthouse so they can watch what’s going on and report what they see to me.”

  “I know several good men who would be willing to do that.”

  “And I know several good women who woul
d help also.” Mrs. Scoville approached. “I’m one of them.”

  “Doris! What are you saying? I can’t allow you to endanger yourself!”

  Doris straightened her back and raised her chin defiantly. “Amos, this is a fight for what’s right and that makes it everyone’s fight.”

  “Ma’am, I must tell you as I will tell everyone. Eventually you may have to testify in court.”

  “I’m well aware of that, Marshal. I’ll be a very good witness.”

  Stan smiled. “I’m sure you will.”

  Dr. Scoville put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Marshal, tell us what you need done.”

  Stan and Amos stood together in the darkness watching the last of the town volunteers disappear into the night. The moon was a sliver and a thick carpet of stars in the clear sky blanketed the earth in soft starlight. Stan hoped it was a good omen.

  “Well, Marshal, how do you feel about our volunteers?”

  “Good people, Doctor.

  “Call me Amos. I think we’ve come to trust one another enough to be on a first name basis.”

  “Thank you, Amos. That’s fine with me. I’m Stan. I think we’ll have enough evidence to put these scum in prison for a very long time and hopefully even hang a few.”

  “I hope so, it’s long overdue.” Amos looked around. “Where’s your deputy?”

  “Working.”

  “I never heard of Indians being US Marshals before.”

  “Well they’re mine and they all consider themselves brothers of Jasper Lee.”

  “Jasper Lee?! Now there’s a complicated man for you.”

  “So I’m beginning to figure out. Quite frankly, I don’t think I could’ve found three better men. They’re fearless, smart and know their field craft. I’m damn lucky they came along when they did.”

  “Well, I know I wouldn’t want Wind Runner looking for me!”

  “And that, Amos, is exactly what I want everyone to think.”

  Amos nodded his head. “Stan, I think this territory is very lucky to have you as our United States Marshal.”

  “Thank you. I’ll always try to live up to your confidence. I also need to talk to you about the Norton family you told President Grant about.”

  “There’s not much to tell. They disappeared and Norris claims he bought their ranch and they went back East. I know that’s poppycock. The Norton’s would never have sold their place.”

  “They didn’t. They were shot.”

  Amos’ eyes grew wide. “How do you know?”

  “One of Norris’ men is turning prosecution witness. He was there.”

  Amos leaned hard against the porch rail. “God as my witness, Stan. I’ll do whatever it takes to bring those despicable men to justice!”

  Wind Runner eased next to Black Feather as he stood in the shadows of the building across from the saloon.

  Black Feather pointed to it. “They are in there. Their sign showed they reported to the sheriff first. I think they are deputies.”

  Wind Runner’s jaw tightened. “Stan has a good plan working. Many people here are helping. He wants us to find Bart Moore and Governor Norris and make sure they do not leave when he makes his move.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  STAN STOOD ON the Scoville’s back porch sipping coffee and watched the orange tinged sun begin to appear from behind the mountain.

  The door opened and Doris came out onto the porch. “You didn’t get much sleep last night, Stan.”

  “Good morning, Doris. I got enough.”

  “If you’re like me you can’t sleep in a strange bed anyway.”

  “Yep,” Stan agreed even though he slept in his bedroll which he was quite use to. “Your good coffee helps, though.”

  “Why thank you. I order it special from San Francisco. Amos likes good coffee. It’s a good thing he’s a doctor because he wouldn’t like cowboy coffee.”

  “How do you know about cowboy coffee?”

  “I was raised on a ranch. Started riding horses when I was five. Started working with the cowhands when I was eight.”

  “That’s mighty rough work for a girl.”

  “It wasn’t for me and the cowboys took good care of me anyway.”

  “Well, Doris, you’re quite a lady. How’d you meet Amos?”

  “We met at Willamette University. I was attending school and he taught one of my classes. We fell in love and he decided he wanted to practice in a rural area. Our plans were interrupted by the war, but we eventually made it here.”

  “Well, I’m very glad you decided to settle here. You both are wonderful folks.”

  Black Feather and Captain Anthony came out onto the porch.

  “We’re ready to get our people in position,” the captain advised.

  “Good. Filter them in a little at a time. Get some of the women into the courtroom…except for Mrs. Lee. She might not be able to contain herself. You might bring her here, Black Feather.”

  “I will.”

  “We’ll get some advance notice that they will be heading for the gallows from other folks helping us out. As soon as they come out of the courtroom, start moving in.”

  “We’ll be ready.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Stand up, Lee!” The sheriff jingled his keys as a taunt before he unlocked Jasper’s cell. “Time to go to court.”

  “Sit down.” The deputy gave Jasper a push before he even had a chance to follow the order. Two men armed with shotguns walked in front of the wagon, two walked in the back with Jasper and two riders followed them on the hundred yard trip down the street to the courthouse.

  A large crowd milled around the front and they parted as the wagon rolled to a stop before the door. An unsettling quiet hung in the cool of the morning. The same deputies shoved Jasper off the wagon hard enough so that he stumbled before he caught his balance.

  On the walk down the aisle Jasper looked around the packed courtroom. A lot of people he didn’t know, but he smiled and nodded at each person he recognized. Each returned the silent greeting, a quiet acknowledgement of their support.

  The sheriff pulled out the chair at the defendant’s table. The combination of Willis’ absence and the smug look on the prosecutor’s face turned Jasper’s gut. Surely, Willis was dead. Jasper took a long breath in a futile attempt to lessen the weight in his heart. Blood pounded in his head. A good man had died in his defense. Someone else who needed him to apply natural justice. He looked around the room searching for the thing he wanted to see. He found it in the first row behind the prosecutor’s table.

  Bart Moore sat next to Governor Norris, both well within gun range.

  The sheriff removed the manacles and Jasper sat down. His hand moved toward the top of his moccasin. He knew he could kill them both, but he also knew he wouldn’t live ten seconds after he did. The faces of Gale and his children floated prominent in his mind. His hand moved back to the table. He needed the third element before he took action…his means of escape.

  The sound of the gavel shot from the bench.

  “This court is now in session! The case of Territory versus Jasper Lee, Criminal Docket Number 17, is reconvened,” the judge announced. He looked over at Jasper with a mildly triumphant look. “Mr. Lee, where is your lawyer, Mr. Harwick?”

  “I suspect you know better than me, judge.”

  Muffled laughter rippled through the gallery.

  The judge’s face flushed crimson. “Watch your mouth, Mr. Lee, or I’ll hold you in contempt!”

  Jasper shrugged.

  “Mr. Prosecutor, you may give your opening statement.”

  The tall lanky prosecutor stood and Jasper noticed how different he looked from Willis. Jasper had seen it too many times before. A two dollar haircut and a twenty-five dollar suit finished off by a lesson or two in just the way to stand to look important. This man had no doubt been groomed by the governor for just such a purpose. Groomed to makes lies sound like the truth.

  The prosecutor cleared his throat. �
�Thank you your honor. Gentlemen of the jury, this will be a simple case of cold-blooded murder by ambush. The Territory will present eye-witness testimony from Mr. Bart Moore, an upstanding citizen…”

  “Bullshit!” A voice yelled from the gallery, which erupted in more shouts.

  Bart Moore’s face was purple and his mouth pulled in a tight line.

  “Order! Order!” The judge slammed the gavel so hard on the bench, Jasper thought the wooden hammer might shatter. “I’ll have order in this courtroom or I’ll have the sheriff clear all of you out!” The judge glowered around the room.

  “You may continue, Mr. Prosecutor.”

  The prosecutor wiped a shaky handkerchief across his forehead then cleared his throat again. “Gentlemen of the jury,” he continued with a voice that matched his shaking hands. “The evidence will show Jasper Lee is a murderer…”

  Silence reigned in the courtroom. The judge stared at the prosecutor like he was expecting something more.

  The prosecutor fumbled with his papers, suddenly said, “Thank you,” and quickly sat down.

  The judge’s eyes slid toward the spot where the governor sat.

  Jasper noticed the governor made that little nod again when the judge leaned back in his chair and turned to the defendant’s table.

  “You may give an opening statement, Mr. Lee.”

  Jasper rose and instead of looking at the jury he turned and faced the people in the gallery. “I’m not guilty of murder. There are times when natural justice demands swift and final action and without natural justice none of us is safe. This trial is about the choice of natural justice or the man-made perversion of it.” Many people, even ones he didn’t know, nodded their heads. He took his seat, satisfied he wasn’t alone in the room.

  “Mr. Prosecutor, you may call your first witness.”

  “Your honor, the Territory calls Mr. Bart Moore.”

  Moore walked up to the witness stand. He wore a neatly pressed black suit coat and a clean white shirt with a conservative black tie.

  “Mr. Moore please raise your right hand,” the judge said.

  Moore looked right at Jasper and one side of his mouth curved up. He raised his hand.