by Bill Russo
His accuracy was off and he wasn’t able to put Jed down, but he did put one in his arm, one in his side and a third in his left thigh.
Still on his feet Bartlett charged forward.
Due to the three slugs from the Don and one from Big Red, his charge was actually more like a turtle’s shamble than a dash
Don Jose wasn’t in much better shape. Light headed from the loss of blood from his six wounds, the Don’s aim was unstable, yet he was able to snap off two more rounds before he lost consciousness.
Bartlett fell into the dirt of Main Street. A widening red pool of blood formed around his prostrate form.
As the last wisps of gunsmoke were blown away by the breeze from the limestone hills, an eerie silence descended upon the town. The hundreds of people who had watched the fierce battle were quieter than the town church on a Saturday night.
Jed Bartlett, the Sheriff of Tombstone lay motionless in front of Jordan’s Mercantile, his blood saturating the hard packed dirt of the street.
Don Jose Alvarado, the Sheriff of Whiz Bang City, lay unmoving on the boardwalk by the merchandise table, his blood painting the rough planks a bright crimson.
For what seemed like minutes, nobody moved. Suddenly, Chalky arrived and pushed his way through the crowd. He went first to Big Red who had fallen on her back after being shot twice in the chest.
Seeing almost immediately that she was gone, he dashed to the unmoving body of Sheriff Alvarado. As he was examining the Don for signs of life, Big Blake came up behind him.
“Is he dead Chalk?”
“He’s still breathing Blake. Let’s get him to Doc Galen’s office.
To the crowd he commanded, “Somebody find Doc and tell him what happened and get him to come to the office right away.”
To Blake, he added, “Go check on Bartlett and see if he’s still alive.”
“He’s shot up pretty bad Chalk, but he’s breathiing. He killed Miss Red, so I’m going to finish him off.”
Blake drew a colt from his waistband and pointed it at the unconscious man’s head. He drew back the trigger….
“No Blake. You can’t shoot him. That would be murder. I’d have to arrest you and you’d hang. He’s a no good, dry gulching murderer, but I can’t let you kill him. Get a couple guys to take him up to Doc’s office. We’ll patch him up and then later on we’ll hang him for the murder of Big Red.”
Six hours later, Doc Galen, assisted by Ma Glockner acting as his nurse, had succeeded in removing six slugs from Don Jose and six more from Jed Bartlett.
With the two unconscious patients in bunks on opposite walls of his treatment room, Doc stepped into his outer office where a large group of interested citizens awaited him, including Deputy Chalky Hidlago, Blake Ivory and Vicky Larkin.
“Don Jose is still alive. He’s badly hurt, but he’s going to make a full recovery,” the doctor reported.
The group received that news happily, but something else was on their minds. - “What about that no good rat Jed Bartlett?” demanded several people at the same time.
“Bartlett’s alive. He took six slugs and he’s in worse shape than Don Jose because one of those bullets hit an artery. If he’s lucky he’ll pull through.”
“No Doc, if he’s lucky he’ll die in bed in your office, cause if he lives we’re going to string him up for killing Miss Red,” vowed Big Blake Ivory.
“I’ve got some sad news to say about that,” interrupted Deputy Chalky Hidalgo.
“What are you saying Chalk? Ain’t we going to hang him?” wondered Blake.
“It looks like we can’t. I’ve been contacted by the U.S. Marshall’s office in Oklahoma City. The government is pretty upset about what happened. They’re in a snit after hearing that two Osage County peace officers were trying to kill eachother in a shootout on Main Street. They’re sending a real U.S. Marshall and a judge to Whiz Bang to investigate.”
“Let ‘em come,” said Vicky Larken. “Sheriff Alvarado’s in the clear. That no good Bartlett drew on him with no warning. Don Jose had every right to fight back.”
“Course that’s true Mrs. Larken.” Chalkie agreed, “But the case is getting complicated. Sheriff Alvarado was cleared in that robbery case. That’s a fact. A judge found him not guilty, but they failed to rescind the arrest warrant, so Bartlett had the right to serve it.”
“Even if that’s accurate,’ offered Big Blake, “he had no right to murder Miss Red.”
“Well that’s a problem too Blake. Big Red fired twice before he gunned her. She fired first, so the Marshall up in OK-C said that we got no charges against Bartlett on that score. The killing was self defense – 100 per cent legal.”
The mood of the dozen people crowded into Doc Galen’s office soured at this unexpected news. They advised Doc to withhold treatment and let Bartlett die.
“You know I can’t do that,” Doc said. “I’ve sworn an oath to save life, not take it. It doesn’t matter that Jed Bartlett is a no good, ambushing rodent. I still have to give him the best medical treatment I can and I’m going to do it.”
“Okay Doc. You got your job to do. We understand that, we just hope that in this one particular case, you’re not as good as you usually are.”
“Thanks Chalky,” Doc responded. “I’ve got to go home and get some sleep. Will you do me a favor and stand guard here tonight. I’ll be back by seven in the morning.”
“I can’t do it Doc. You know that while Don Jose was recovering from the shootout with the Divitt Brant gang, things were pretty quiet in town, so he didn’t get around to replacing the deputies that we lost on Pistol Hill. I’m all by myself and I gotta get ready to meet the Judge and the Oklahoma City Marshall. They’ll be meeting me at the jailhouse first thing in the morning.”
Reluctantly, Doctor Galen went home and left his office unattended with the two wounded men inside.
Chapter Seventeen: Revenge for Big Red
The housekeeping staff at the Whiz Bang began gathering up Miss Red’s belongings shortly after they heard the news that she had been killed. Big Red had given them prior instructions as to what to do if anything ever happened to her.
She had ordered that her clothing, jewels, furniture, and accessories be divided among her ‘girls’. She left a will in her top bureau drawer, with a copy at her lawyer’s office.
Elena Bella Blanco, the head of housekeeping, took the will to her room where she happily noted that Miss Red had left each of her workers a cash gift of $1,000.
The last few lines shocked her. She had to find Big Blake, the piano man.
Blake was discussing the fate of Jed Bartlett at his piano bar in the East Room. His instrument was the only grand piano in Osage County - all the rest were the typical honky-tonk uprights. It easily accommodated the dozen sets of plates and glasses that were laid out on top of it, around the sides and back.
Vicky Larkin was seated next to Blake’s piano stool. Chalky was next to Vicky. Nine more close friends of Red and Don Jose, completed the group. They were growing angrier by the moment, that Jed Barltett was still alive and wouldn’t have to face murder charges.
His face twisted by anger, Blake shouted…“Chalky, I was going to put that rat’s lights out forever. You stopped me because you said the law would take care of him. Now it seems like the law won’t do it; so it’s up to us.”
Before he could say anything else, he was interrupted by Elena Bella who shouted…
“Blake. I’ve got Miss Red’s last will and testament and you need to read it.”
She handed the paper to Blake and he silently perused it. Tears clogged his eyes, preventing him from finishing. Gently, he placed the document on the piano and Vicky Larkin picked it up. She scanned it for a minute and read…
“I leave all my money, except for that which I have given to my other employees, to Mr. Blake Ivory, for his faithful service, without which I never would have been able to sustain and build the busine
ss of the Whiz Bang House.”
“That’s as plain as spinster Jane’s underwear,” commented Doc Galen, “Blake, you are now the owner of the Whiz Bang House. Congratulations my friend, you deserve it.”
Big Blake, probably the strongest man in Osage County, could say nothing. He was crying louder than a new born baby.
“I’d give it away in a second if it would bring that dear lady back,” snuffled Blake. “Now more than ever, I have to kill Jed Bartlett. When that Marshall and the Judge come here in the morning they’re going to find a dead Jed!”
“I sure do agree with you,” Chalky allowed, “but as a lawman I can’t abide something like that.”
“I agree with you too,” said Doc Galen. “If I had known it was going to turn out this way, I might not have been so eager to uphold my sworn oath. I’ll say one thing to you Blake, and I’m not encouraging anything you understand but….”
“What Doc? What are you saying?”
“Only this, Blake - and I want everyone here gathered around this piano to hear it. The door to my office is not locked. If anybody such as a judge or a Marshall should happen to ask me any questions tomorrow, the answer is simply, I forgot to lock the door.
Ma Glockner spoke. Her long silver hair shined brightly from the many Edison electric bulbs placed near the piano. With a faint smile decorating her face which still held great beauty, despite her age of well over sixty, she advised Blake…. “Blake. You’re the owner of this establishment now. You’re going to be one of the most important men in the entire county, and the first man with roots in Africa, to have such a lofty position in Oklahoma. Don’t jeopardize it my friend by an act of needless revenge.”
“With all due respect Mrs. Glockner, what do you mean by needless revenge? That varmint Bartlett needs killing more than almost anybody that ever lived.”
“Dear Blake, I agree with you completely. I simply mean that as good as our wonderful Doctor Galen is, there is only so much he can do. Doc had to put more than a hundred stitches into him. I helped Doc sew up those threads and I can tell you for sure it’s possible those stitches will break open during the night. I think it is very unlikely that he will live until morning. ”
“Doc, is it true what she’s saying? Is there a good chance that Jed Bartlett will die tonight?”
“Listen Blake, nothing in life or death is guaranteed, but with that said, I do think it’s very probable that my patient will not be alive by seven tomorrow morning. And Ma is right, you should stay out of it. You’ve got a business to run now, and Big Red would want you to make that your only concern.”
Next to speak was Vicky Larkin…. “It’s no secret that Big Red and I were rivals in the fight for Don Jose. She won him and she won fair and square. I never had any grudge against her, she was an admirable woman and I know she would have made a fine wife for the Don. I guess on some level I should be happy that the field is open to me again – but I am not! I feel as bad as anybody about this. I don’t care what the government says. Jed didn’t have to kill Red. She had two bullets in her pocket pistol. One missed and the other just clipped him. She was called Big Red, but Bartlett was more than strong enough to fight her off, even with his wounds. He’s pure evil and I hope he dies tonight.”
As she was speaking Mrs. Larkin’s hands were flying faster than a greyhound over a ball of white yarn that she was knitting.
“What are you making?” Chalkie questioned.
“It’s a Mass Hat for Red.”
Everyone wondered what a Mass Hat could be. Vicky explained that she and Red had on occasion met at Ma’s restaurant for a meals and conversation. Red told Vicky that she had been raised in the Catholic faith and that by custom, women wore white woven hats when they entered church for the Holy Mass service.
“One afternoon while we were having lunch, Big Red’s eyes filled with tears. When I asked her why she was crying she said – ‘I’ll probably never get to wear a ‘Mass Hat’ again since I have become not only a soiled dove, but the manager of a whole house of soiled doves – so I’m sewing her this head covering for her and when Rev. Frost gives her eulogy, she’ll be wearing her Mass Hat.”
“That’s a wonderful memory Vicky,” said Doc Galen, “but you are flashing those knitting needles so fast you might hurt yourself. Be careful.”
“You’re right Doc. One of these needles could do a lot of damage if someone were careless. I expect somebody could even knock an eye out of a person, if they wanted to.”
Deputy Bart Tremmers’ widow Julie spoke next. “After my husband was killed in the Pistol Hill shootout, I thought that life was over for me too. What with the four kids and no income coming in, I had no idea how we’d survive. The Don came to my house after the funeral and told me that Bart was still on the payroll. He said that Bart was a great lawman and that he’ll continue to draw a paycheck whether he’s alive or dead. As good as his word, I’ve gotten Bart’s pay every single month, though I don’t know how the Don manages it.”
Mrs. Tremmers paused and picked up her handbag which was sitting on top of the piano. She retracted a Remington 44 – just like the ones carried by the Don and Chalky.
“The Sheriff gave me this. It’s Bart’s pistol and I always carry it with me, though I’ve never fired it. I wonder if it’s still in proper working order. Perhaps I’ll test it tonight.”
“Please Mrs. Tremmers,” Chalky asked. “Put the pistol away. I think I see what you’re getting at, but we can’t take the law into our own hands. Ma Glockner’s probably right. Bartlett most likely will not last the night. I wouldn’t want you to get your hands dirty needlessly.”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said Mrs. Larkin,” said Deputy Chalkie. “You’re right. Bartlett didn’t have to kill Big Red. She was called Big Red mostly for that great mass of crimson hair, but she probably wasn’t more than an inch over five feet tall and I’m guessing that she weighed barely a hundred pounds. She had fired both rounds and her derringer was empty. All he had to do was push her aside.”
Chalkie shook his head rapidly back and forth as if giving a negative response to a question. He rubbed his forehead where a throbbing ache served as a constant reminder that the Sheriff was badly wounded, maybe dying, and his attacker was still alive.
“You folks all know that there’s no real law in Osage County.” Chalkie continued. “The government never bothered to officially set up sheriff’s offices. They never appointed territorial Marshalls. The only law we’ve had in Whiz Bang has been Don Jose’s law – and it has been pretty good law. Justice under the Don has been fair and swift. When we hung the Pistol Hill thieves, robberies there got stopped overnight. Same thing plenty of other times; when people were guilty, we didn’t bother with trials and such. I’m thinking that under Don Jose law, Jed Bartlett needs to pay for killing Big Red.”
Around the table they went one by one. Each person agreed that the world would be done a great favor if Jed Bartlett was to be separated from the living.
After a while Doc excused himself and said that he was going to check in on Don Jose and make sure he was alright. “I’m also going to have a look at Bartlett. If he’s in severe pain, I’ll have to give him something for it. He might be in a lot of pain, in which case I’ll have to give him a large dosage of the medicine.”
Five minutes after Doc left, Ma Glockner followed suit, a pair of sharp scissors in her hand. “I think Doc might forget to check on Don Jose’s stitches, so I’ll do it for him. I’ll also peek in on Bartlett,” she said, snapping her scissors shut with enough force to make them sound almost like a hatchet hitting a chopping block.
One by one they all departed, leaving Big Blake Ivory alone at his piano. His tears still hadn’t dried and they made tracks all the way down his cheeks before puddling up at the base of his neck.
Blake closed his fists tightly and raised his hands in a fighting pose. Looking hard at them he wondered what eve
ryone else who saw him wondered, how those big mitts could smoothly caress the ‘eighty-eights’ of a piano. Those fists were made for bashing things, not for noodling on the ivories. He stood up, his fists still raised in a classic boxing pose and walked briskly towards Doc Galen’s office.
Chapter Eighteen: The Federal Investigators
The Tulsa Marshall, Whit Clayton and the Circuit Judge, Roger Banter got off the morning train and walked the few hundred feet to the Whiz Bang jail house. Chalky sat at the Sheriff’s desk waiting for them.
They introduced themselves and told Chalkie that they had been ordered by the Governor to investigate The Whizbang Shootout and make a recommendation as to whether ‘martial law’ should be instituted in Osage County. Such action would bring ‘proper law enforcement officials’ to the area for the first time.
“We need to interview both of the sheriffs,” said Judge Banter, “Are they conscious?”
“Sheriff Alvarado is in a great deal of pain from being shot six times, but he is awake and alert. As for the man who murdered Miss Red and drygulched our Sheriff, he died during the night.”
“Take us to the doctor’s office,’ ordered the Marshall. “We have to examine the body and we still have to question Don Jose.”
The Oklahoma City men followed Chalky to Doc Galen’s office. They went inside where Doc was seated at his desk alongside Ma Glockner. After Chalky made the introductions, Judge Banter asked them for their accounts of what happened.
“It’s very simple,” said Doc Galen, “Jed Bartlett came here with a warrant for the arrest of our Sheriff on a charge of the theft of $2500. Don Jose had been found innocent, but for some reason the warrant was never rescinded. Bartlett was told the facts of the case, but he refused to check the details or even to listen to Don Jose’s explanation. He said he was going to take Don Jose back to Carter Nine, dead or alive. A fight broke out and the piano player, Mr. Blake Ivory, told them to take it outside. Bartlett went out to the street. Don Jose stayed for a minute or so to talk to Big Red, to whom he had just proposed marriage.
“After a few brief words with Red, Don Jose walked through the swinging doors and didn’t even get past the boardwalk before Bartlett ambushed him. The Don was hit twice without a chance to fight back,” Doc continued.
