“I wonder who he’s talking about,” Byron said.
“Hush,” Noona said.
“Evil doesn’t have a black E stamped on its forehead,” Asa said. “It doesn’t always wear its black heart on its sleeve for all to see. Sometimes it pretends to be good. Sometimes it hides its black heart under expensive duds and you have to look deep to find it.”
“Why, Pa, that was almost poetical,” Byron said.
“Go to hell, boy.”
“Pa,” Noona said.
“I meant it,” Byron said.
“Get some sleep. Tomorrow the killing might commence and you want to be well rested.”
“True,” Byron said. “The only thing worse than shooting a man when you’re half-asleep is shooting him on an empty stomach.”
“Honestly, boy,” Asa said. “You can be plumb ridiculous at times.”
“I take after my pa,” Byron said.
74
At the crack of day, Ordville was astir.
The sky had brightened when a milk wagon came up the street and the driver got out to place bottles on doorsteps. He was returning to his wagon when he happened to glance toward the oak tree.
Asa imagined the man’s shock.
The driver took a few steps toward the oak, then turned and ran to the nearest house. He pounded on the door and when a man in a robe came out, he pointed at the tree and they exchanged words.
Asa had to imagine what was said, too, since he was too far away to hear them. Something like, “Come see! There’s a man hanging on that tree!”
The milkman scurried off to spread the word.
Asa nodded in satisfaction. It wouldn’t be long before the demon appeared, he hoped.
The sun rose and Byron and Noona were both awake when the fancy carriage appeared.
“At last,” Byron said.
“I wish I was down there,” Noona said. “I wish I could see his face.”
They saw the great man climb out, saw the marshal and the deputy and the Gray Ghosts. Even from that high up, they could tell how mad Studevant was by his posture and how he stomped to the carriage like a mad bull after he read Byron’s note.
“I do believe we’ve done it,” Byron said.
“We’ll see,” Asa said.
The carriage went back into town. They lost track of it amid the hills and winding streets. Over an hour went by and it didn’t reappear.
“I spoke too soon,” Byron said.
“Patience,” Asa said.
His was rewarded about the middle of the morning when a large group of riders came from the direction of the Studevant Hotel.
“What have we here?” Byron said.
“I count eleven,” Noona said. “And look at the last one. He’s leading a packhorse. They aim to stay at it a while.”
Asa was more interested in the first rider. “We’ve done it, by God. His Highness is with them.”
“Hark,” Byron said. “’Tis the great man himself, astride a fine chestnut.”
“Hark?” Noona said.
The posse came to the oak tree and drew rein. The body had been cut down but the rope still hung from the limb.
Studevant said something and one of the Gray Ghosts climbed down, walked over to the oak, and his right hand flashed. The next instant, the rope fell to earth.
The distant crack of the shot rolled up over the forested slopes and was echoed by the crags far above.
“Did you see that?” Byron exclaimed. “He shot the rope in two.”
“That was some shooting,” Noona agreed.
“They’ll be the ones to watch out for,” Asa said. “Those gray fellas.”
“How do they expect to find us with their tracker dead?” Byron wondered.
“We help them,” Asa said. He stood and bent and unbent each of his legs a few times to restore the circulation. “I’m getting too old for this.”
“I’m too young,” Byron said.
They climbed on their mounts, wheeled to the west, and rode half a mile deeper into the mountains. A switchback took them to the tree line. Above spread boulder fields and talus with precious little vegetation.
“Do you have a plan or is this make it up as we go?” Byron asked.
“Pa always has a plan,” Noona said. “It’s what makes him Pa.”
“Thank you, daughter,” Asa said.
“Then you do have one?” Byron said.
“I do,” Asa confirmed, “and it starts with you and your sister gathering up all the downed branches you can find.”
“What will you be doing?”
“Pruning my toenails.”
“Pa told a joke,” Noona said, and laughed.
“Miracles do happen,” Byron said.
Asa liked seeing them so lighthearted for a change. He climbed down, let the reins dangle, and climbed to a flat spot that was to his liking. When his son and daughter came out of the trees with armfuls of branches, he said, “Pile it here.”
“We’re making a fire,” Noona guessed the obvious.
“We are.”
“A beacon to lure the wicked to their doom,” Byron intoned, and gazed gravely down the mountain. “Or to put us in an early grave.”
75
Marshal Abel Pollard didn’t like it one bit.
He didn’t like leaving town. In town he had an edge. He knew Ordville like he knew the back of his hand, and he was the law.
He didn’t like charging off into the wilds. He was city born and bred, not a country boy. The wilds were as alien to him as the moon. Oh, he could live off the land when he had to, but he wasn’t any great shakes when it came to the kind of skills Cyrus Temple had, and look at what happened to Temple.
Pollard especially didn’t like that Arthur Studevant had thrown common sense to the wind and was letting his pride rule his actions. He’d tried to talk Studevant out of it. He pointed out that he suspected the outlaws or whoever they were wanted Studevant to do exactly what he was doing. “You’re playing right into their hands,” Pollard had warned, but it did no good.
Now Pollard glanced at Agar on his left and then at the six other deputies behind them. Every deputy he had, including two who only worked part-time but were the same as the full-time deputies in that they had no qualms about beating and killing.
Suddenly Pollard realized Deputy Agar was talking to him.
“Psssst, Abel. Didn’t you hear me? The big man wants you.”
Sure enough, Arthur Studevant was beckoning.
Pollard tapped his spurs and passed the Gray Ghosts to ride alongside Studevant. “Have you changed your mind and want to go back?”
“We’ve been all through that,” Studevant said gruffly. “I’m going to end this one way or the other.”
“It’s the ‘or other’ that worries me.”
“Once again you disappoint me,” Studevant said. “I expected you to be as eager to see that justice is done as I am.”
“I thought we’re fixing to kill the bastard,” Pollard said. “Justice has nothing to do with it.”
“Your sarcasm is duly noted. But it’s just as far as I’m concerned.”
“Just, maybe, but not smart,” Pollard said. “Maybe we should make them come to us and not go to them.”
“Not that again. Have no fear. We will prevail.”
Pollard bit off an angry reply. Studevant was next to the only person he knew who used words like “prevail.” The only other one had been that damned nuisance of a poet they had sent packing along with—
Startled, Pollard hauled on the reins and brought his sorrel to a stop. “It can’t be!”
Arthur Studevant drew rein, too, raising his arm so the others knew to stop. Shifting in the saddle, he snapped, “What is the matter with you, Abel? Are you losing your nerve?”
�
��Prevail,” Pollard said. “He used the same damn word.”
“Who did?”
“And Temple had half his face blown off. Why didn’t I see it sooner?”
“What the hell are you babbling about?”
Pollard was tired of being talked down to. “You haven’t figured it out, have you? The great Arthur Studevant, as dumb as everyone else. And you keep saying I’m a disappointment.”
“Have a care, Abel.”
Pollard refused to be intimidated. “Tell me, great one. Who do we know who always kills with a shotgun?”
Studevant’s confusion was rare. “You do, on occasion. So do a lot of lawmen. And shotgun messengers on a stage rely on them.”
“I said always. As in they are half famous for it.”
“I’ve never heard of anyone who always uses a—” Studevant froze.
“Think about it,” Pollard said. “There were three of them and there are three of these masked outlaws. And one of the outlaws talks fancy and writes fancy. And one of them used a shotgun to take off the top of Cyrus Temple’s head.”
“How could I have been so blind?” Studevant said, more to himself than to Pollard.
“It has to be them,” Pollard said. “All the evidence fits.”
“My God,” Studevant exclaimed. “It all makes sense now.”
“Then we go back?” Pollard hoped.
“Like hell we do.” Studevant laughed and smacked his thigh in delight. “Don’t you see? Now that we know, we have the advantage. They’re bound to lay a trap for us, and we’ll turn it against them.”
“What kind of trap?”
“We’ll know it when we see it.”
Just then Deputy Agar hollered. “Mr. Studevant! Marshal! Look yonder at all that smoke.”
Arthur Studevant glanced up the mountain and bared his teeth like a wolf about to take a bite. “We have them, by God.”
76
Asa was glad to be getting it over with.
Their games of cat and mouse weren’t to his liking. He preferred to go in, gun down those he was hired to gun down, and go home.
He’d never encountered a situation like this before. Where the bad man was the leading citizen and the other citizens had no idea he was bad. Where through fear and force, a vicious cat lorded it over a bunch of blind mice.
Now, hidden in pines no more than a stone’s throw from the bonfire that crackled noisily and spewed a thick column of spiraling smoke into the sky, he stared down the mountain.
The posse should appear soon, Asa reckoned. They would come fast when they saw the smoke.
He’d been lying there over half an hour now.
Noona and Byron were hidden at different points, well away from the fire where they could use their rifles to best effect. Asa was proud of the fact they were sharpshooters, the both of them, able to drop man or beast at a hundred yards as easily as Asa did at close range with his shotgun.
The minutes added one on another and still the posse didn’t appear.
Asa grew uneasy. Studevant and his lapdogs should have been in sight by now. Could it be they hadn’t seen the smoke? he wondered. But they’d have to be truly blind to miss it.
The bonfire crackled less, and the smoke diminished. The column became snakes and the snakes became threads and the threads became puffs, and in a little while it would be out entirely.
Asa stood. It was plain his plan had gone wrong. The only conclusion he could come to was that Studevant must suspect it was a trap and hadn’t taken the bait.
“Damn,” Asa said.
He walked out into the open where Noona and Byron could see him and raised his left arm and waved it back and forth until both of them rose from hiding and began to make their way toward him.
Asa went to collect their horses.
This was going to be harder than he thought. He needed to come up with another way to lure the posse within range of their guns.
The fire was nearly out when Noona and Byron got there.
“Wonder what went wrong?” Noona said.
Byron, naturally, had more to say. “This is a bad omen. They should have fallen for it. That they haven’t shown tells me they could be onto us.”
“I don’t see how,” Noona said.
“You’re taking it for granted they’re stupid. They’re not, or they wouldn’t have pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes for so long.”
“It could be anything,” Noona said.
“Or it could be they’ve figured out who we are,” Byron insisted.
Asa ended their argument with, “Jabber doesn’t solve our problem. Namely, how to bring them into our sights, whether they know it’s us or not.”
“If the bonfire didn’t work, what will?” Noona asked.
“I vote we wait a day and ride into town and finish it there,” Byron proposed.
“Have a gun battle in the middle of town? With all those bystanders around?” Noona said.
Byron shrugged. “We pick off Studevant and Pollard and it’s over.”
Asa had been thinking about his previous comment. “Let’s say you’re right and they’ve figured out it’s us. The important thing then is how many have they told?”
“Hopefully, no one,” Noona said.
“We have to find out,” Asa said. “The last thing we want is our likeness on Wanted circulars.”
“How about if one of us sneaks into town and asks around among our friends,” Noona suggested. “I’m least likely to be noticed so it should be me.”
“If it comes to that we will,” Asa said. “First we go find the posse.”
They headed down the mountain with Asa in the lead and Byron coming last.
Noona didn’t stay in the middle long. She brought her mount up next to Asa’s.
“I don’t like this, Pa.”
“Me, neither.”
“I have a bad feeling.”
“Me, too.”
“Maybe we’d be smarter to swing wide of Ordville and not stop until we reach Texas.”
“Cut tail and run?”
“I’m willing if you are.”
Asa looked at her. “No, you’re not, and neither am I. You’re saying that because you’re worried your brother and me will come to harm.”
“Well, you maybe,” Noona said, and grinned.
“You’re a good daughter, gal.”
“And he’s a good son.”
“Some days.”
“Oh, Pa.”
“As for turning tail, it’s not in me. When I was your age I made a decision. I looked around me and saw all the wickedness in this world. I saw evil men and women, doing evil things to others. Killers, robbers, and worse. And I made up my mind to do something about it. I became an officer of the law to do my small part to make this world a better place. A place where it’s safe for peaceful folks to get out of bed in the morning and go about their day without fear of being shot or knifed. When I took to town taming, it was for the same reason. To put the bad men of this world six feet under so they can’t be bad anymore.”
“Gosh,” Noona said.
Asa wasn’t finished. “There are some who’d say I’m playing at being God Almighty. That no one has the right to be judge, jury, and executioner. I say hogwash. I say that if the good don’t stand up for themselves, then the bad have won. That we might as well dig holes in the ground and stick our heads in them like those big birds down in wherever it is.”
“Ostriches,” Noona said.
“That’s not for me, gal. I won’t wear blinders and I won’t run scared and I won’t tuck tail. I will stand up for myself and for those who can’t stand up for themselves and I will exterminate the vermin of this world until I breathe my dying breath.”
“Land sakes,” Noona said.
“What are you on about?”
“That’s the most you’ve said to me since I can remember. Why, it must have been a hundred words or better.”
“Quit your teasing.”
“Who’s teasing?” Noona replied, laughing. Then she sobered and said, “But you know what?”
“You want me to stick to ten words or less?”
“I agree with every word you said. And I’ll be at your side until my dying breath, too.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Asa said.
77
The sun was golden in an azure sky, the forest alive with songbirds and the little creatures, like squirrels and chipmunks and an occasional rabbit.
It was so scenic and serene that Asa let his mind wander. He thought about how it would pierce him to the quick if anything ever did happen to Noona or Byron. He thought about the risks they took on his account, and how his wife, God rest her soul, wouldn’t have let them.
There were days when Asa missed Mary something awful. Days when her face floated in front of him and seemed so real, he wanted to reach out and touch her.
Some people liked to say that life was hell on earth, and in one respect they were right. It was hell to lose a loved one. Hell to lose someone you cared for with all your heart. Hell to suffer torment the rest of your born days.
If Asa could, he’d turn back time and relive those days with Mary. They were the happiest of his life, her love for him the sweetest savor on God’s green earth.
He never could get enough of it. He never could stop marveling that she cared so much. It was the first and only true miracle he experienced in his life. As ordinary and as plain as he was, she had loved him above all others.
Asa was thinking that when a jay squawked and the woods went completely still.
Asa drew rein. He was holding the Winchester shotgun across the pommel and firmed his grip.
“What is it, Pa?” Noona whispered from behind him.
Town Tamers Page 23
