A young man was standing by the door when they walked out. He tapped Man on the leg and handed him a note. “It’s from Grandmother Gretchen.” Then, he ran down the street.
Man opened it and Kate looked over his shoulder to read. Man and Kate glanced at the other. Nail. The note consisted of that one word.
“How do we proceed and what grounds do we have to make an arrest?” he asked. “An accusation is certainly not enough.”
“If he plays it right we’ll have nothing,” she said. “We need to provoke him to get a reaction and hopefully, he’ll make a slip or do something stupid.”
When they were close enough to the Pirates Cove Man pulled Arabian to a halt under a tree, pulled his binoculars from his saddlebag, and scanned the premises. “I see six horses tied at the hitching rail and four in the barn. One in the barn is a fancy chestnut. I wonder if he belongs to Bedford Nail.”
He replaced his binoculars, pulled one of the Colts from his holster, and added another bullet. He then added another to his other Walker. Kate did the same with her two pistols. She reached for one of her Winchesters, jacked a bullet into the firing chamber, and replaced it so she would have a full magazine. It was possible a full-scale battle was about to commence.
Man did the same on his rifle. He touched his spurs to the horse and took the lead. “There’s no need postponing it. Let’s go earn our pay.”
A grungy man came out the door dressed as a fisherman. He saw the two marshals approaching, turned, and ran back inside. A few seconds later, three men came out and stood in front of the door. They all had pistols on their hips and had the look of hired gunfighters.
Man pulled Arabian to a stop and Kate veered to his right about twenty feet, but far enough the men couldn’t focus on both at the same time.
Man eyed the men and spoke softly. “Marshal Manchester and my partner, Deputy Marshal Kate. We aren’t looking for trouble, but we came to talk with Bedford Nail.”
“He ain’t here,” the obvious spokesman said as he had taken two steps in front of the other two. His thumbs were tucked inside his gun belt, close to his weapons.
“In that case,” Man said, “we’ll go inside and have a drink. Do you have objections to that?”
“We don’t serve drinks to polecats and lawmen. They both stink up the place.”
Man stepped down from Arabian, but kept his eye on the men. Kate lifted her rifle and aimed at the nose of the head henchman. The three men turned to look at her as her quick movement caught their attention.
When their eyes came back to Man, he was holding two Walker Colts in his hands. He smiled and said, “I think it would be prudent to withdraw that statement and drop the weapons on the ground.”
“You can’t take all three of us,” the head man growled. “That little filly ain’t going to shoot nobody. She’s too pretty and ain’t got the balls to pull a trigger on us.”
“You’re willing to bet your life on her not shooting?” Man said. “She wasn’t selected to be the first woman deputy US marshal by Chief Marshal Joseph Meek just because she’s pretty.”
Man paused and took a step forward. “The first one that reaches for his pistol will get a bullet hole between his eyes and before the second has time to draw, he’ll have one in his gizzard. I’ll put the one left standing on his butt with a couple of bullets in his brisket.”
He took another step forward. “Either drop the gun belts as I said, or let’s get this show on the road. We ain’t got all day to stand out here and haggle. We’re going in either way - by you or over you. Which way will it be?”
“I believe him,” one of the hard cases said. “I ain’t willing to take the chance. That woman aiming at my face ain’t blinked an eye. I believe she’ll shoot.” He slowly moved his hand to the buckle on his gun belt and it fell to the ground.
“Go get your horse and get the hell out of here,” Kate ordered. She gestured with the tip of her rifle barrel toward the horses.
The man turned and ran toward the barn. “You’re fired,” the spokesman shouted. The fleeing man didn’t replay as he disappeared around the building.
“What now?” Man demanded. “Ten seconds to make up your mind. Do we fish or cut bait?”
“Irish, we need you out here,” the bouncer yelled at the top of his lungs.
“Irish,” Man shouted, “if you come through that door with the Greener aimed at us, you won’t get a shot off. The instant we see the barrel of the shotgun we’ll open up. If you open that door your hands had better be empty.”
Man started counting down from ten. When he reached three, the man behind the spokesman broke and ran for the barn. Man said, “Two, one,” and the last bully turned and ran toward the barn.
“Irish,” Man said in a clear, loud voice that could be heard inside. “You’re three flunkies have lit out. We’re coming in and if we see a pistol or rifle in anybody’s hands, we’ll start shooting. That Greener you’re so proud of had better be leaning against a wall several feet away from you.”
Man turned to Kate and gestured toward the rear. “I’ll count to thirty slowly to give you time to be at the back door. I’ll yell when I’m going in and you step inside and put anybody down that’s holding a gun. Close your eyes for about fifteen seconds to get them accustomed to the darkness so you can see the instant you go inside.”
She dismounted and ran toward the back. He said, “One, two, three,” and she was out of sight. He continued to count silently as he went to the door and stood to the side in case anyone decided to shoot through the door. He closed his eyes at fifteen and relied on his hearing if the door opened.
At thirty, he reached over, shoved the door open, and jerked his hand back. At least half dozen weapons discharged inside including the loud roar of the shotgun. The door disintegrated. Man leaped through the door that was hanging by one hinge and landed on the floor on his belly. A man with a pistol was directly in front of him trying to get his pistol aimed down at the supine man. Man’s bullet took the shooter above his belly button, traveled upward, and came out the back of his neck. Man heard Kate firing from the rear of the building and saw two men go down with pistols smoking.
The thug named Irish was behind a table with his shotgun, trying to get the long barrel pointed toward Man. Kate had a better view and she sent a bullet through the side of Irish’s head spraying the table, wall and floor with blood and brains. His reflex action caused him to pull the trigger on the shotgun and a hole appeared in the floor in front of him, but missing Man by ten feet.
Man jumped to his feet pointing the two Walkers in both directions searching for another target. There was none. Two customers sat at tables with their hand showing flat down on the tabletop. Two women dressed as Pirates stood at the bar with their hands in the air.
The bartender was watching and Man saw both hands were out of sight behind the bar. “Put your hands on top of the bar or bring out that sawed-off and we’ll see who wins.”
The bartender brought both hands up, empty, and placed them on the bar.
Kate gestured toward a door and moved toward it. Man maneuvered around so he would have a clear shot if there were a shooter inside.
Kate moved to the door and knocked with the tip of her rifle. Two bullets knocked holes in the door, but they didn’t hit anybody and buried in the wall on the other side of the barroom.
“I didn’t squeal, Irish!” a man yelled from inside. “It weren’t me!”
Kate reached over and shoved at the door. It was locked.
“US Marshals,” Man yelled. “Open this door.”
Nothing but silence came in reply.
Man moved forward, stood on the opposite side from Kate, and aimed his pistol at the lock. The instant he fired, Kate shoved the door open with the rifle barrel.
A skinny young man, probably barely eighteen, stood against the back wall with a pistol in his
hand. “Drop it,” Man ordered.
The shooter immediately dropped the pistol, visibly shaking from heat to toe. Kate hurried in and kept her rifle aimed at the shooter as Man went to put cuffs on the young man.
“What’s your name,” Man demanded.
“Curtis Blair,” the handcuffed man said. “I thought you was Irish. I thought he was killing us all. I ain’t never shot at police. I ain’t never shot at nobody before. I run errands. That’s all. I ain’t nobody. Like Irish says, I ain’t nothing or nobody.”
“Where is Bedford Nail?” Kate demanded.
“I don’t know,” he said. “He ain’t here. Hadn’t been all day.”
Man decided to run his bluff. “His chestnut is in the barn.”
“That’s my horse,” Curtis said.
“Yeah, a go-fer like you doesn’t ride a horse like that. Now where is he?”
The trembling young man was on the verge of wetting his pants after Man jabbed the barrel of the pistol in his sunken belly. “Are you willing to die for your boss like that bunch outside? Do you want to go see their bodies before making up your mind?”
Man jerked the kid forward and shoved him out the door. When he saw the bodies, and especially Irish, Curtis began to heave.
The instant Curtis caught his breath, Man pointed one of his Walker Colts toward the ear of the frightened kid.
“Two questions and if I even suspect you’re lying, you’ll never hear the second. First question, Mr. Curtis Blair. Who killed Elmer Knorr?”
Man waited for a full second and then cocked the pistol. The sound was deafening in the silent room. Man touched an ear with the cold barrel of the pistol and said, “Good bye, Mr. Blair, give the devil my regards.”
A wet stain covered the front of the young man’s pants. “It was Irish that killed him,” he shouted.
“Who ordered Irish to kill Elmer Knorr?” Man demanded before Curtis had time to collect his wits.
“Bedford Nail,” he almost yelled.
“Where is Nail this minute?” Man demanded as he tapped Curtis’ head with the tip of the pistol.
“He’s in the storage room behind the bar,” Blair mumbled, but it was plain enough for Man and Kate to understand.
Man and Kate reloaded their weapons and walked toward the bar. The bartender moved to the end and stood beside the women.
“Bedford Nail,” Man shouted. “Come out with your hands empty and grabbing for the clouds.”
The two marshals waited for about ten seconds. Man shouted again, “Come out or we’re coming in shooting.”
They waited again with no sound from inside the storage room. Man moved to the side of the door, shoved it open with the pistol in his left hand, and dove inside. Nothing moved. Kate was behind him and said, “A window is open.”
She ran to look and said, “The chestnut is gone.”
Man offered a silent curse word as he stood.
He went back into the barroom and unlocked the cuffs on Blair. He stood Blair, the bartender, the two customers that were still seated at the table, and the two women against the wall. “You’re ordered to report to Chief of Police Coy Kincaid immediately and each of you will give a full report of the events here today. It had better be complete and accurate. If you fail to do so, we’ll be looking for you, and I promise you jail time. As of now, you’re only witnesses, and I suggest you keep it this way. I understand prison in the winter is hell. As I said, if you fail to report to the police station or you fail to tell the truth, and all of it, we’ll find you and you’ll learn firsthand about the conditions of prison in the winter. Now, go directly to the police station. Get the hell out of here.”
The two women ran for the door and beat the bartender and Blair outside, but they were close behind. The two customers were behind them, but glancing over their shoulders at the two marshals.
Man and Kate followed them to the barn and Curtis was hitching a horse to a buggy. They all got in and Blair turned the horse toward Coeur d’Alene. He had the horse in a fast trot.
“What do you think?” Man asked.
“The odds are they will do as ordered,” she said. “You put the fear in them and after seeing the bodies on the floor, I expect they’ll heed the instructions.”
“Let’s ride after Bedford Nail,” Man said.
They rode to the barn and Man picked up the trail of a horse. The tracks led away from the saloon and kept away from the road. The tracks went away from town and seemed to stay parallel with the shoreline.
“He has a destination in mind,” Man said.
They rode by the fish market and then by a line of boats tied to a pier. Kate pulled Red Bird to a stop and Man reined in Arabian.
“I think I see the chestnut tied in front of us.” He pulled his binoculars and focused on the horse. “It’s him. He’s tied to a hitching rail in front of a warehouse.”
They pulled their rifles from the scabbards and rode forward. As usual, Kate moved away from Man, but they rode parallel, each watching for movement.
Kate dismounted first as Man scanned the warehouse building for any movement. It appeared empty of people as there were no horses stabled nearby. But they couldn’t see the rear of the warehouse. The two marshals moved forward to a doublewide door. Man found a long limb that had fallen from a tree and used it to push the door open. Nothing happened.
He gestured for Kate to go to the rear. She turned and ran to the corner then stopped to peek around. She waved and disappeared. Man moved to where he could see inside. The huge building was filled with wooden crates. This was a warehouse for freight to be loaded or that had arrived on boats. He saw no movement.
Man cautiously moved forward, stepped inside, and stood with his back against the wall. He could see the opposite side of the warehouse and when the back door opened and Kate stepped inside, he began to move forward.
Kate saw him and started to walk toward him, her eyes constantly shifting from side to side, looking for movement.
When they met near the center of the warehouse, she whispered, “Now what? Where did he go?”
He gestured to the left and she turned in that direction. He went to the right, moving slowly, looking and listening. Kate was doing the same. She would go to a stack of crates and stop to listen and then peek around it, before moving on.
When they reached the wall, they made a circle around the outside wall, ever alert. Kate stopped and then moved to where Man could see her. She pointed with her rife and Man hurried to where she waited.
An office was in the corner of the building. They moved toward it, but continued to look in every direction. Man tried the door. It was locked. The outside wall made up two sides of the office, but on the inside wall, he saw a window. He moved to look inside. It was covered with a piece of burlap. He pushed it to the side with the rifle barrel. When there was no reaction from within, he stood up and looked for a split-second and dropped down. He waited for a few seconds and looked again. “Empty,” he said, “but there is an outside door and it’s open.”
They ran to the front door and stopped to look. The chestnut was gone. Man swore again under his breath.
They hurried to their horses and Man quickly picked up the tracks of the chestnut. He was shod, had small hooves, and was easy to follow even when the tracks were mixed with that of draft horses.
The trail led farther around the lake and soon they were leaving houses behind. “It’s time to start watching for an ambush,” Kate warned. “You do the tracking and I’ll watch for any sign of Nail or his horse.”
Darkness soon began to settle in around them and it was getting harder for Man to stay on the trail. He often had to dismount for a closer look at the tracks. Finally, he turned toward Kate. “If we go any farther, I’ll lose him.”
“We didn’t bring any of our things,” she said.
“Neither did Nail,”
he said. “But, he may know where he’s going and can ride at night. He’ll have the moon for two or three hours.”
“What do we do?” she asked.
“We need to find a place to bed down and we have jerky and pemmican in our saddlebags,” he said.
“Or we can go back home and stock up on our supplies and bring the pack mules,” she said. “We can be back here at first light and continue the chase until we run him to ground. We can also stop and check in with the police and see if the people we sent in got there and find out what they said.”
Man shook his head. “I believe you had your argument well thought out before speaking.”
“Of course. I usually do,” she said with a generous smile. “I find it works out better to know what I’m talking about before speaking. Besides, this way I get to sleep in a warm house in a soft bed with my handsome husband rather than on the snow covered ground with no cover except a saddle blanket.”
It was his turn to laugh and he turned Arabian back toward Coeur d’Alene. Kate tore white strips of cloth she carried in her saddle for bandages and tied one to a tree limb. “This will help us come back to this spot easier. It’ll be too dark to see the tracks tomorrow morning.”
“Darn, you’re awfully smart for a just a deputy marshal,” he teased.
They found a police officer seated on a rock in front of the Pirates Cove. He stood when he saw the two marshals approaching.
“We were wondering where you went,” he said when they were close enough to hear.
“Bedford Nail got away by crawling out a window,” Man said. “We tracked him until darkness caused us to turn back. We’ll be back on his trail at first light.”
“Did you have a buggy full of people show up at the station?” Kate asked.
“We sure did. Four men and two women came in with every one of them trying to talk at the same time. Chief Kincaid and Assistant Chief Dunlap got their statements. As soon as he heard about the shooting, the chief sent six of us out here. The bartender said bodies were laid out like cordwood. He exaggerated a mite, but it must have been one hell of a dust-up according to the bullet holes.”
Mountain Woman Snake River Blizzard Page 13
