by J. T. Edson
‘I will, you can count on it,’ Wil declared and glanced at the clock. ‘Now, Miss Shivers, I have work to do. We don’t all start in the middle of the afternoon.’
‘And we don’t all finish at four o’clock, Miss Jeffreys,’ Lily pointed out cheerfully. ‘Wil—’
‘Yes, Lily?’
‘Don’t you worry about Poona and me. That damned sign ruined any little chance I might have had.’
With that, Lily rose and walked slowly and stiffly towards the door. Opening it, she paused and looked back.
‘Wil, do you recall a gambling man who came to see you the day I left town?’
‘Yes.’
‘Wax Smith’s going to be asking you about him,’ Lily warned and walked out of the office without enlarging upon her statement.
Wil was not granted an opportunity to ponder on the cryptic utterance. As the blonde departed, Ryall walked in.
‘Counselor Yorck wishes to see you, Miss Jeffreys,’ the teller said, in a tone which showed his feelings about the visitor. ‘Marshal Smith and Mr. Frith are here, too.’
‘Has Counselor Yorck said why he wants to see me?’
‘Only that it’s in your capacity as mayor.’
‘Then ask them all to come in, please,’ Wil said, having heard from her brother of how Smith had dealt with Yorck and the agitators.
‘Yes, ma’am. Er—Will it be all right if I leave the bank for a short time?’
‘Of course.’
‘I’ve something to attend to at home. It won’t take more than half an hour.’
‘You don’t need to explain, Mr. Ryall,’ Wil smiled. ‘Show the gentlemen in and then go.’
Withdrawing, Ryall stood aside to let the lawyer, Smith and Frith to enter. The teller closed the door as the three men approached Wil’s desk. From his scowl, Yorck did not care for the other two being present. His opening words made that even clearer.
‘I wished to see you in private, Miss Jeffreys,’ Yorck declared. Is it necessary for these men to be present?’
‘That depends on you,’ Wil replied and her normal business attitude had returned. ‘I believe that you wish to lay a complaint against Marshal Smith and his deputies. In which case, I consider that they have every right to hear and answer it. Bringing them in saves all our time.’
‘Very well!’ Yorck growled. ‘I have come to state my complete dissatisfaction with this man’s,’ he indicated Smith, ‘behavior.’
‘In what respect?’ Wil inquired.
‘Yesterday they arrested two young men of good family and held them in jail all night.’
‘With your permission, Counselor,’ Smith pointed out. ‘After they’d admitted to being drunk and raising a fuss for the hell of it.’
‘It was merely a foolish prank—’ Yorck boomed.
‘And has been treated by Marshal Smith as one,’ Wil replied. ‘Despite the fact that it might easily have caused a tragedy. I don’t need to tell you, Counselor, just how delicate the situation is between the ranchers and the homesteaders. So I called a meeting between the leaders of both sides to work out an amicable settlement. Those two young men’s drunken prank might have ruined our chances of doing it. Mr. Smith acted in a manner which met with my complete approval.’
‘He might have crippled one of my clients for life.’
‘And your clients could easily have caused men to be killed,’ Wil countered. ‘The way they broke into my private office gave the marshal no choice but to take the drastic measures. I will repeat that he acted in a manner which has my complete approval.’
‘Do you know that your marshal is a wanted man?’ Yorck demanded.
‘Only if I go back to Texas,’ Smith corrected. ‘And get caught there.’
To placate the Mexican Government, without yielding to its demands, the Governor of Texas had agreed that Smith would be arrested and handed over if he should be caught within the boundaries of the Lone Star State.
‘I know all about that,’ Wil told the lawyer. ‘And I am satisfied that Mr. Smith is a honest, respectable member of the community. Yesterday, his prompt action averted a dangerous situation. If you wish, he will re-arrest the two young men and bring them to trial on a charge of inciting to riot—’
‘While under the influence of drugs,’ Smith went on.
‘That won’t be necessary,’ Yorck answered stiffly ‘I came here to lodge a protest and have done so. What action you see fit to take is your concern, Miss Jeffreys.’
‘You may rest assured that I will deal with it,’ Wil replied. ‘Is there anything more, Counselor?’
‘Nothing,’ the lawyer answered. ‘Good morning.’
‘There goes a man I could easy get to dislike,’ Frith commented as the door closed behind Yorck.
‘Don’t sell him short,’ Wil warned. ‘He has some influence in Cheyenne and we may hear more of this affair. I’m sorry, Mr. Frith, but we haven’t had time to be formally introduced.’
‘I fetched Ric along for you to swear him in,’ Smith remarked, after performing the introduction. ‘He made the rounds with me last night, but he still needs a badge. Your brother and Ottaway are going around collecting them from Bert’s boys.’
‘How is Stanley shaping up?’
‘Raw, but willing to learn, ma’am. It’s none of my never-mind, but you could do worse than have him kept on after we’ve gone.’
‘He certainly doesn’t show much aptitude for banking,’ Wil smiled. ‘I’ll be pleased to swear Mr. Frith in, but I think he would like to talk terms first.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Smith grinned. ‘I reckon he would. I’ll wait outside until you’re through. Then, if you can spare the time, there’s things to be talked about.’
Across the river, the tall and the short man met outside the office of the Widow’s Creek News. Again, to a casual observer, their coming together would have appeared accidental and their only mutual interest to be the poster in the window giving details of the fair.
‘I can’t stay long,’ said the taller.
‘Do they suspect you?’ asked the other.
‘There’s no reason why they should, after yesterday,’ the taller man stated. ‘But I’d sooner not take chances.’
‘Have you learned when they arrive?’
‘Not yet. But something else’s come up.’
‘What is it?’
‘Smith and C. B. Frith are friends,’ warned the taller man, pointing at the poster as if indicating something on it.
‘I know that already,’ growled the shorter. ‘It’s why Dilkes didn’t try to kill Smith last night. They were covering each other all the time they made the rounds and he daren’t make a move.’
‘Frith got one of the fellers we sent after him—’
‘Alive?’ demanded the shorter man worriedly.
‘Just about. He’s unconscious, or was when Frith left Billings. Two of his side-kicks stayed behind to see if the bastard can tell anything when he recovers. They’ll be down here by Monday or Tuesday and, way I heard it, Smith’s going to have them appointed as deputies. Frith reckoned they’re real good.’
‘And they’ll be here by Monday?’
‘Or Tuesday. Losing Hardy, Moxley, the Sheppeys and the others leaves us hellish short-handed. Can we get more help?’
‘I don’t know. If not, we may have to change cur plans.’
‘In what way?’ asked the taller man.
‘There’s not time to go into it now,’ replied the other. ‘We’ve been stood here together as long as’s safe.’
‘Yeah,’ agreed the taller of the pair. ‘I’ll meet up with you tonight, if I’ve learned anything. Or tomorrow at the same time, be around the livery barn.’
Turning on his heel, the taller man strolled off in the direction of the river. With a similar attitude of nonchalance, his companion stood for a short time looking at the poster. Then the small man glanced in a calculating manner after the other and hurried away in the opposite direction.
Although Sm
ith had hoped for a lengthy discussion with Wil, and to have her answer some of the questions which troubled him, the chance did not arise. Almost as soon as he had been called in and informed that Frith had accepted the mayor’s offer, Ryall’s assistant knocked and entered. One of the bank’s most influential depositors had arrived, asking for an urgent interview. Apologizing, Wil had asked the Texan and Frith to excuse her and promised that she would be available for a conference after lunch.
Leaving the bank, Smith had decided that he would take his saddle to be repaired. Requesting that Frith should attend to things at the office, he had gone to the Simple Hotel and collected it. According to the desk-clerk, the saddler’s shop was on Shivers Street, across the river. So Smith set off in that direction.
Approaching the river, Smith saw Ryall crossing the upper of the three bridges which connected the twin parts of the town. A startled, almost guilty expression flickered across the teller’s face at the sight of the marshal and he hurried by without doing more than nod a greeting.
‘Hey, Marshal Smith!’ yelled a voice.
Going across the bridge, Smith met Jeffreys on the southern bank. The young man wore his suit, a Stetson and town boots, but had on a gunbelt carrying a Colt Civilian Model Peacemaker in a fast draw holster.
‘Something up?’ Smith inquired.
‘No. I went to collect a couple of badges from deputies who live up this end of town. Tal Ottaway’s gone for the others.’
At that moment, the crack of shots rang out; first one, then two more in rapid succession, followed by the scream of a man in agony. Jeffreys spun around and drew his Colt with both speed and capable efficiency.
‘Down by the livery barn!’ the young man snapped.
‘Let’s go!’ Smith barked, having removed his glove and fetched out his Colt.
Guided by Jeffreys, Smith ran in the direction of the disturbance. The two peace officers went around to the rear of the livery barn. Pushing through the small knot of onlookers, they went to where Ottaway, still holding his smoking revolver, knelt by a still figure.
‘What happened?’ Smith asked, holstering his Colt.
‘I’m damned if I know,’ Ottaway answered and he seemed to be struggling to conceal anger, or some other violent emotion. ‘I’d come by this way to see if you or Ric was with your hosses and Di—that son-of-a-bitch threw lead at me.’
‘You know him?’ Jeffrey inquired, staring down at the two holes in the figure’s forehead.
‘His name’s Dilkes,’ Ottaway replied. ‘I’ve seen him around town.’
‘I’ve done more than that,’ Smith said quietly. ‘He’s the hombre who was with the Sheppeys when they tried to kill me.’
Chapter Fourteen – The Return of the Joneses
‘Thing is, Miss Jeffreys,’ Smith said, as he and his deputies sat with the lady mayor at the table in the room where the two ranchers had met the representatives of the Grange. ‘Since you hired us, Ric, Ottaway and me’ve each had somebody try to kill us.’
‘You, Mr. Frith?’ Wil said, turning to the burly man.
‘Up in Billings,’ Frith agreed and explained the circumstances.
‘And the Sheppey brothers tried to kill you in the Happy Bull, Mr. Smith,’ Wil went on. ‘Then it wasn’t just because of their old grudge?’
‘I never thought it was, ma’am,’ Smith declared. ‘You see, three other fellers tried it at Gilpin’s way station.’
‘Who were they?’
‘A gambling man and two more pistoleros?’
‘The gambler who visited me at the bank?’
‘Why’d you think that, ma’am?’ Smith demanded.
‘Lily gave me a warning, indirectly, that you might be interested in him,’ Wil explained. ‘He came to see me to ask about opening a gambling concession during the fair.’
‘If that feller I dropped was with the Sheppeys, they’re all tied in to the gambling man,’ Ottaway commented.
‘I’d say that’s likely,’ Frith admitted dryly. ‘Somebody doesn’t want us as your special police force, Miss Jeffreys. And I, for one, ‘d like to know who.’
‘And why,’ Smith drawled.
‘What do you think, Mr. Smith?’ Wil inquired.
‘I’m da—don’t know, ma’am,’ the Texan replied. ‘There’s some’s’d say Lily Shivers would make a good one for “who”.’
‘Why should she want to stop you gentlemen arriving?’
‘What happened yesterday between you and her could answer that.’
‘I don’t think so, Mr. Smith. Lily had what she regarded as a personal grudge against me. All her escapades have been directed my way, not at the town. She’d even had that sign destroyed when she saw how P—how people regarded it. Widow’s Creek is Lily’s home and she’s a shrewd enough businesswoman to see the advantages a successful fair will bring.’
‘You trust her, then, ma’am?’ Frith asked.
‘I’m inclined that way,’ Wil agreed.
‘Would the ranchers, Woodstole and Hopkirk, try to stop us, figuring we’d been hired by the nesters?’ Frith went on.
‘That’s most unlikely. Poo—Mr. Woodstole has been working with me to organize the fair and it was he who suggested hiring Mr. Smith.’
‘Woodstole!’ Smith ejaculated. ‘Now I remember. Her name was something—Woodstole afore she married Captain Fog.’
‘Beagrave-Woodstole,’ Wil supplied. ‘She’s Poona’s cousin.’
‘Who put up the rest of us, ma’am?’ Frith put in.
‘I hired Mr. Ottaway,’ Wil explained. ‘In fact, it was meeting him which gave me the idea of bringing in gunfighters—I hope the term doesn’t offend you?’
‘We’ve all been called worse,’ Smith drawled. ‘How about the others?’
‘I’d heard Mr. Frith’s name mentioned and knew that he was running the marshal’s office in Billings. So I sent for him. Mr. Ottaway recommended Seaborn Tragg and Frank Straw.’
‘Could be the Free Land crowd didn’t want us around,’ Ottaway remarked. ‘If they aim to stir up fuss, it’d be easier and safer against Caster’s deputies than us.’
‘Why would they want to do it?’ Wil asked.
‘To rub the Grange’s face in the dirt,’ Smith suggested. ‘Show the farmers that the Free Land crowd are more concerned with their interests than the Grange are. A play like that’d be their way.’
‘Disrupting the fair would embarrass the Grange,’ Wil agreed. ‘It would also stir up trouble between the cowhands, who’re looking forward to a week’s celebrations and the farmers.’
‘Yes’m,’ Smith drawled. Then it’d be the usual story back East. Drunken cowhands terrorizing the community and abusing the poor, hard-working, God-fearing homesteaders.’
‘I’ll concede that the Free Land Society would be capable of acting as you suggest,’ Wil said. ‘But do you think that’s what is behind the attempts on your lives?’
‘Would they be able to learn who you’d sent for, or who’d accepted?’ Smith wanted to know.
‘I never kept the fact that I was hoping to hire you gentlemen a secret,’ Wil replied. ‘If they’d planned their campaign well in advance, they could have found out, I suppose.’
A knock on the main door prevented Smith from raising the matter of the jewelry. It opened and Marshal Caster entered.
‘Wax!’ he said. ‘I thought you should know. The Jones brothers’re back and down at the Busted Plough.’
‘So?’ Smith asked.
‘There’s still a warrant on them for slow-elking,’ ix Caster elaborated. ‘We didn’t send it after them. But it’ll have to be served now they’re back. And fast.’
‘How come?’ Frith asked.
‘Some of the C Lazy P boys’re in town,’ Caster explained. ‘If they hear the Joneses’re back, it’ll be the same as throwing a lit match into a keg of black powder.’
‘That’s for sure,’ Jeffreys agreed. ‘The hands were riled when Poona wouldn’t let them fetch them back after they�
��d run out.’
‘Let’s go, boys!’ Smith snapped. ‘Where’s the warrant, Bert?’
‘In the office safe,’ Caster replied. ‘Come on, I’ll find it for you.’
Without wasting more time in discussion, Smith led the other men from the room. On reaching the marshal’s office, Caster went to the safe and opened it. Smith crossed to the wall rack and took down his rifle, which he had brought from the hotel that morning.
‘Get loaded for bear,’ the Texan told his deputies. Frith and Ottaway selected twin-barreled shotguns, but Jeffreys stood by the desk. ‘You too, Stan.’
‘But—!’ the young man began, making a gesture towards his holstered Colt.
‘I don’t want trouble taking them,’ Smith went on.
‘Then why take the shotguns?’ Jeffreys asked.
‘That’s to make sure we don’t have any,’ Smith explained.
‘Here’s the warrant,’ Caster announced, joining Smith and handing over a legal document. ‘If you need any help—’
‘I reckon we can handle it, Bert,’ Smith replied. This’s the kind of thing Miss Jeffreys hired us to do.’
Caster nodded in gratitude. While he would have performed his duty, arresting the Jones brothers might have antagonized the other farmers. If it did under the present circumstances, their antipathy would be directed against Wil Jeffreys’ imported peace officers and not at Caster and his men.
With the warrant in his hip-pocket and rifle under his arm, Smith led the deputies, each carrying a shotgun, out of the town hall. Following them out, Caster nodded again, with satisfaction. Clearly Smith knew his way around the town, for he was taking the most direct route to the Busted Plough saloon.
Making his way across the river, Smith wondered if they might be going to face the reason for the attempts on their lives. Smith and Caster had been unable to trace the Sheppey brothers’ companion after his escape from the Happy Bull. So he could have been hidden in town, or maybe left on foot. There were farms within easy walking distance where he and the Sheppeys might have hidden while awaiting their chance to kill Smith.
