Bloodshed of the Mountain Man

by William W. ; Johnsto Johnstone

  “Northfield, it was. What happened was, damn near the whole town got guns ’n purt’ nigh wiped out the whole gang. ’N the James gang? Well, sir, they wound up without gettin’ no money a-tall from the bank.”

  “Yeah, we could do that here. Soon as we get word that the Ghost Riders is comin’ into town, we can get all the kids and womenfolk into someplace that’s safe ’n shoot ’em down.”

  “Ha! After what they done in Laurette, it’ll be a fine comeuppance for ’em, won’t it? More ’n likely after this happens, we’ll be as famous as that town where Jesse James got all shot up.”

  Mark Worley set down the glass he had been wiping, then moved down to Rexwell, who had turned his back to the bar and was listening to the conversation.

  “Yes, sir, what can I get for you?”

  “I’ll take a beer,” Rexwell said.

  “That’ll be a nickel,” Worley said a moment later, as he put the mug of beer before Rexwell.

  Rexwell put a nickel on the bar, then picked up the beer mug and walked over to join the men who were doing all the talking.

  “You’re new in town, ain’t ya?” one of the men asked. “Don’t believe I’ve seen you before.”

  “I was just passin’ by, saw the town ’n got thirsty,” Rexwell said, holding up his beer mug. “Say, as I rode by, I seen them four bodies standin’ up down the street a bit. Don’t you folks bury your dead in this town?”

  “They’re a little different from most,” one of the men said. “Maybe you didn’t notice, but they was all wearin’ red armbands.”

  “Yeah, I did notice it, but didn’t take no mind of it. What was they wearin’ ’em for?”

  “Mister, are you tellin’ me you ain’t never heard of the Ghost Riders?”

  “Can’t say as I have.”

  “Well, it’s a band of outlaws, is what it is. Up until recently, they was pretty much keepin’ to Wyomin’, but for some reason they left Wyomin’ ’n come down here to Colorado. And what they do is, they all wear those red armbands, only nobody really knows why.

  “Anyway, we put those red armbands on the four corpses you saw, because we intend to send a message to any of the Ghost Ridin’ bastards that might happen to town.”

  “What makes you think they’ll be comin’ to town?” Rexwell asked.

  “We’re pretty sure they’re plannin’ on hittin’ our bank, ’n when they do, well, sir, we will damn sure be ready for ’em.”

  “That’s what you men was all talkin’ about a minute or so ago, when you said you was goin’ to get rifles and be ready for them?”

  “Yes, sir. If the Ghost Riders hit this town, they are goin’ to be in for quite a surprise.”

  “What makes you think these outlaws you are talkin’ about, the Ghost Riders you’re callin’ ’em, plan to hit Brimstone?”

  “Well, seein’ as you said you ain’t never heard of ’em, then mayhap you ain’t heard about what happened in Laurette neither,” one of the saloon patrons said. “What happened there was, the Ghost Riders come into town, more ’n twenty of ’em, and they commenced shootin’ at ever’body, women and kids, it didn’t make no never mind to ’em. ’N they cleaned out the bank. And there warn’t a one o’ them bastards kilt. Well, that ain’t a goin’ to happen here. Fact is, as you’ve done seen with them corpses standin’ up in front of the undertaker’s shop, we’ve done kilt four of ’em, ’n we plan to kill a lot more.”

  “You keep saying you are goin’ to surprise ’em, but how do you plan to do that? I mean it seems to me like the advantage would be with them. They know when they plan to come in, but you don’t.”

  “First of all, they won’t be surprisin’ us, on account of because we’re goin’ to have us a lookout up in the church bell tower. From up there, you can see near ’bout two miles in ever’ direction, all around the town. Soon as our lookout sees riders comin’ he’ll ring the bell, ’n that’ll be our signal.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out,” Rexwell said.

  “You mighty damn right, we do. I tell you the truth, I hope they do come to town. By damn, we could near’bout kill ever’ one of ’em if they do.”

  “Hell, Cecil, if you stop to think about it, Smoke Jensen has near’bout already done that all by his ownself,” one of the others said. “Them four bodies that’s standin’ up in front of the undertaker’s was all kilt by him.”

  “No, he only kilt three of ’em,” Cecil said. “It was Pearlie, the fella that’s with him, that kilt one of ’em.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’d near forgot that.”

  Rexwell finished his beer, ran the back of his hand across his mouth, then set the mug back on the bar.

  “Well, it’s been interestin’ talkin’ to you,” he said. “I wish you lots of luck, but I need to be ridin’ on. I’ve got a long way to ride yet, today.”

  “Where is it that you’re a goin’?”

  “Oh, I got no particular place in mind,” Rexwell said.

  After Rexwell left, Worley called Cecil up to the bar.

  “What were you and that bald-headed fella talkin’ about?” Worley asked.

  “We was tellin’ ’im how we’re gettin’ set to welcome the Ghost Riders when they come into town,” Cecil said.

  “Do you think that was smart?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well think about it. None of us know that man. How do we know he isn’t a Ghost Rider come into town just to scout us out?”

  “Damn!” Cecil said. “I never thought about that.”

  “Cecil, why don’t you go find Smoke ’n ask him to stop in for a free beer?”

  “Do I get a free beer for goin’ to fetch ’im?” Cecil asked.

  “I don’t see why not,” Worley said.

  Cecil didn’t have to go very far because Smoke, Pearlie, and Marshal Hardegree were all standing out in the middle of the street, right in front of the saloon.

  “I think we could put four men up there,” Smoke said, pointing to the false front of the saloon. “One man on each end, and one man on each side of the step up.”

  “Yes, and we could do the same thing with the apothecary,” Pearlie said.

  “Mr. Jensen, Mark Worley needs to talk to you. He said he’d give you a free beer if you would come in,” Cecil said. He smiled. “And he’ll give me one too, for comin’ to get you.”

  “All right,” Smoke said. “I’m always ready for a free beer. Pearlie, you and the marshal find a few more good spots.”

  “What about my free beer?” Pearlie asked.

  “I’ll buy you one after we get through here,” Marshal Hardegree said.

  “I’ll take you up on that.”

  Smoke followed Cecil into the saloon and, without being asked, Worley drew two beers and set them on the bar.

  “He was right out front, so I didn’t have to go far,” Cecil said.

  “Did you see him leave the saloon?” Worley asked.

  “See who?”

  “Ugly looking man, bald-headed, looked like he didn’t even have a neck, had a purple scar right here,” Worley described, using his finger to trace the path of the scar.

  “No, we just came out from the marshal’s office a moment before Cecil came for me. But I’ve seen someone who looks like the one you described before. He’s one of the Ghost Riders,” Smoke said. “He was here, you say?”

  “Yes sir, he was.”

  “It’s more than likely that he was just checking on the men that have been killed here.”

  “Oh damn, I should have realized that,” Cecil said. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything, should I?”

  “I don’t know,” Smoke said. “What did you say?”

  “I told him we was ready for the Ghost Riders when they come, that we have a surprise waitin’ on ’em.”

  “Well, that may make it less likely now, that they will come into town. So, in the long run, you may have done just the right thing.”

  Ten Strike

  “What d
id you find out in Brimstone?” Hannibal asked, when Rexwell returned to the outlaw encampment.

  “For one thing, I learned that they have over ten thousand dollars in the Brimstone bank,” Rexwell said.

  Hannibal smiled. “Ten thousand? I knew it. I knew that with a working silver mine nearby, the bank would have a sizeable amount of money there, just waiting for us. Yes, this will certainly be a bank worth hitting.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought too, when I first got there,” Rexwell said. “But now, I ain’t so sure.”

  “What do you mean, you aren’t sure?”

  “Well, for one thing, I know where Advendingo and Pugh are.”

  “Oh? Where are they?”

  “They’re in coffins that’s stood up right in the middle of town so that ever’one can see ’em,” Rexwell said. “And Collins ’n Oceans is standin’ right beside them.”

  Hannibal nodded and stroked his chin. “Yes,” he said. “I was pretty sure something like that had happened to them. Smoke Jensen killed all four of them.”

  “Well, three anyway. Remember, Smith told us that the fella that was with Jensen is the one who killed Oceans.”

  “Whether it was Jensen himself or merely someone who was with him, it makes no difference, it all comes back to Smoke Jensen. And that’s eleven men we’ve lost because of him,” Hannibal said. “Over one third of my command lost to one man!”

  “We need to stay away from him,” Rexwell said.

  “No, what we need to do is kill him,” Hannibal said.

  “And here’s another thing. All four of ’em has a red armband around their left arm.” Rexwell said.

  “You don’t say?”

  “Yes. And they’re waitin’ for us, Hannibal. They know we’re plannin’ on robbin’ the bank there. I went into the saloon to have a drink ’n see if I could tell what was goin’ on, ’n I learned a lot. They’re goin’ to put a man with a rifle on top of ever’ roof.”

  “No doubt this is a plan worked out by Smoke Jensen,” Hannibal said.

  “I don’t know whether it was or not. But whatever it is, it’s pretty obvious to me that we won’t be able to do this job without gettin’ a lot more of our men killed.”

  “We’re going to do the job,” Hannibal said. “But first, we are going to kill Jensen.”

  “How are we goin’ to do that? I don’t think we have anyone who can stand up to him, or any two men who could. Not without gettin’ kilt their own selves.”

  “I’ve been thinking about this, and I’ve got an idea how we can do it and not lose one of our men.”

  “How?”

  “You just leave that to me. We’ll put off the raid on Brimstone for a little while, until I can put my plan into effect.”

  “All right.”

  “In the meantime I’ve got a diversion worked out. I’m going to be gone for a few days, and while I’m gone, I want you to break down four tactical teams of four men each. We are going to rob four stagecoaches at the same time.”

  “How much do you think we’ll get from four stagecoaches?” Rexwell asked.

  “I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter.”

  “What do you mean, it doesn’t matter? What if they aren’t carrying money boxes?”

  “The chances are that at least one will. Take what you can from the passengers if there is no strongbox. The whole operation is to be a diversionary tactic anyway.”

  “You mean to take their minds off Brimstone?”

  “Yes.”

  Rexwell laughed. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Where’d you come up with that?”

  “It is a classic military tactic,” Hannibal replied. “While I’m gone, let no more than four men at a time go into Sorento, and make certain that they are well-behaved. We don’t want to do anything that will call attention to us.”

  “I’ll take care of it. What about the stagecoaches? Have you worked out a plan which ones we should hit?”

  “Yes. Three days from now, I want you to hit the Bordenville, Hutchins, Rocky, and Florissant coaches. I’ll show you the map and where to put the men. I’ve chosen them because we can hit all four of them at exactly two o’clock in the afternoon. A coordinated strike like that will not only be disruptive to the law, it will also be a tactical coup for the Ghost Riders.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Puxico, New Mexico

  When Hannibal presented himself to the desk clerk of the Homestead Hotel, he was wearing the uniform of a Lieutenant Colonel.

  “Yes, sir, Cap’n, can I help you?” the desk clerk asked.

  “My rank is Lieutenant Colonel,” Hannibal said. “I am Colonel Elmer Peabody, here on special assignment from the Department of War.”

  “I’m sorry, Colonel, never having been in the army, I don’t know nothin’ about rank and all that. What can I do for you?”

  “I require a room. A suite if you have it.”

  “Yes sir, we’ve got a real nice suite.”

  “I may not need it, I expect I will be given quarters out at Fort Union in the senior officers’ batchelor officers’ quarters. If so, I will pay you for the suite, anyway.”

  “Very good, sir. The Homestead Hotel will do all it can to make your stay here a pleasant one.”

  “Indeed,” Hannibal said. “Is there a messenger service with Fort Union?”

  “Yes, sir, they have a soldier who comes into town twice a day, bringing messages and delivering them.”

  “I shall require this message to be delivered to the commanding officer with the next messenger. Can you arrange that for me?”

  Hannibal handed the desk clerk a dollar bill.

  “Yes, sir,” the desk clerk replied with a huge smile.

  To Major Phillip Garneau

  Commandant of Fort Union:

  In accordance with War Department orders, I am here to inspect the prisoners being held in your post stockade. Please arrange for transportation for me from the Homestead Hotel.

  Elmer Peabody

  Lt. Col. Judge Advocate Corps

  Hannibal was in his room an hour later when there was a knock on his door. When he answered the door, he saw a young second lieutenant on the other side. The lieutenant came to attention and saluted.

  “Sir, Lieutenant Kirby with your transportation to Fort Union.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Hannibal said, returning the salute.

  Major Garneau had sent the ambulance for him, the ambulance being the best sprung and most comfortable of all the army vehicles. It took but half an hour to reach the post and when the ambulance stopped in front of the headquarters building, Major Garneau was there to meet him. He saluted.

  “Sir, welcome to Fort Union.”

  Hannibal returned the salute. “Thank you, Major. I take it that you have reports drawn up on all your prisoners for me. How many do you have, by the way?”

  “We have eight, sir. But—”

  “But what?”

  “Colonel, I was totally unaware you would be here for such an inspection.”

  “Surely not, Major, I personally authorized that the message be sent.”

  “No, sir, I received no such message.”

  “Then I apologize, Major. I don’t know how I could have possibly beaten the letter here, when we both came from Washington, D.C. Then, I take it you have not prepared reports on your prisoners?”

  “No, sir. I can do so, if you’ll forgive the delay.”

  “Ahh, I see no need for actual written reports. Suppose you just give me a verbal report on each of the men you are currently holding . . . over dinner at the open mess?”

  “Sir, I insist that you be my guest tonight. Mrs. Garneau enjoys having guests.”

  “I wouldn’t want to put her out.”

  “Believe me, it would be a pleasure.”

  Over dinner that evening, they told stories about their times at West Point and discussed a few officers that both of them knew. Because of Hannibal’s military history, he was able to be quite convincing a
s a colonel sent out from the War Department in order to conduct an on-site inspection.

  After dinner, they retired to the parlor where Hannibal asked the major to give him a report on the prisoners.

  “Three of them are in the stockade for minor violations, improper uniform, insubordination, that sort of thing. But five of them are of a more serious nature. Three of the five will, no doubt, receive dishonorable discharges, and two, I’m quite certain, will be hanged.”

  “Tell me about the five,” Hannibal said.

  “Three of them robbed a liquor store.” Major Garneau laughed. “Then they got drunk on the liquor they stole, passed out, and the sheriff picked them up and brought them out here.”

  “You said you had two who would probably be hanged. Tell me about them.”

  “Malloy and Keefer. They stopped a stagecoach, while in uniform, claimed they had been sent to escort the coach into town, but killed the shotgun guard and two of the passengers, then stole the money box.”

  “How were they caught?”

  “There were supposed to be three of them in on the job, but at the last minute one soldier backed out. He told us where to find them, and Lieutenant Emerson took a patrol out and brought them in.”

  “Ah,” Hannibal said. “Those are the two men I want to interview tomorrow. Could you find a private room for me?”

  “Yes, sir, but how private?”

  “Very private. I want to gain their confidence.”

  “Colonel, these are very dangerous men.”

  “Oh, I’m quite aware of that, Major. I will request to have two armed guards posted right outside the room while I am interviewing them.”

  “All right, sir, yes, we can do that.”

  On the Bordenville Road in Colorado

  Taylor was in charge of the four men who had been detailed to rob the Bordenville coach, and he, the Scraggs twins, and Carl Moss had prepared a tree so that it would take very little to drop it across the road in front of the stagecoach when it came by.

  “How much money do you think they’ll be carryin’?” Amos Scraggs asked.