Bounty of Greed

by Paul Colt

  “Marshal Ledger, it’s nice to have you back even if it means skulking about in the night.”

  He removed his hat and slicker with a smile and hung them on a peg beside the door. “You’d best call me Ty, ma’am. We’re pretty near gonna be family.”

  “So I hear. Congratulations to both of you. Now, Lucy, that pot of stew should still be warm. This man looks as though he could use a bite to eat. I’ll be upstairs with that dress I’m hemming if you need anything.” She took herself off down the hall to the stairway.

  Lucy tested the stew kettle. “This could use a little warming.” She stirred the stove to light and set the kettle on to heat. “Care for some coffee while we wait?”

  He nodded.

  She poured two cups and set them on the kitchen table. “So what brings you back to Lincoln?” She took a seat.

  “You, of course.” He sat down.

  She smiled. “I like that. Then again, with men there’s likely some other reason to go along with that one.”

  “The Regulators are camped outside of town. They’re fixin’ to serve the rest of the warrants for Tunstall’s murder.”

  “You won’t get mixed up in that, will you?”

  “Not as long as they stick by their oaths and uphold the law.”

  “Do you think they will?”

  “I hope so.”

  She checked the kettle. “Stew’s ready.” She served him a bowl with a slice of fresh bread and sat down to watch him eat. “You still staying clear of Sheriff Brady?”

  He nodded around a mouth full of stew.

  “Well, you can’t stay at the Wortley then.”

  “The clerk hid me out the night Brady arrested Rob.”

  “It’s too risky. You’ll stay here. You can bed down in the parlor.”

  “What will Mrs. O’Hara think?”

  “She likes you near as much as I do. As long as we don’t compromise propriety, she’ll be fine.”

  Ty unsaddled the steeldust and picketed him for the night while Lucy cleaned up his supper dishes. She led him down the hall to the parlor. The soft glow of a single oil lamp trimmed low lit the room. She made him comfortable on the settee and sat beside him. He wrapped his arm around her and drew her to his chest.

  “That feels good.” She purred. “Like all’s right with the world.”

  “It does.”

  The tick of the parlor clock and the rhythms of breathing marked the passage of time. At length she lifted her eyes to his and patted his chest. “Well, cowboy, it’s comin’ time for a respectable girl to turn in. You can bunk here. It ain’t much, but it’s better than the hard ground outside.”

  “You sure Mrs. O’Hara won’t mind?”

  “Not as long as we keep it respectable. She never quite forgave me for when I was seein’ John.”

  “I knew there was a reason I liked her.”

  “Truth is she knew me better than I knew me then.”

  He bent to her lips. Soft sweetness melted. He folded her in his arms. A flood of hunger blotted light and time.

  “Oh, Ty.” She put a hand to his mouth with a shudder. “There ain’t nothin’ respectable happening inside this body. It’s time I went upstairs.”

  “There’s only one way out of this.”

  “I know. When?”

  “Soon as I figure a way to support you.”

  “I don’t eat much.”

  He chuckled. “A young ’un might.”

  She kissed him. “See you in the morning, cowboy.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  April 1st

  Thick gray clouds poured out of the mountains, cloaking predawn light in the promise of more rain. The Regulators drifted into town in pairs to avoid attracting attention. The Kid and Fred Waite jogged their horses up the street from the east end of town. Billy eased his horse over to the old Torreon tower, built in the early days of the settlement to defend the town against Indian attacks. He stepped down beside a stand of white oak. Waite followed.

  “What are we doin’ here?”

  The Kid squinted across the mud-clotted street. “Brady and his deputies gotta pass this way to get to the McSween store. A day don’t pass that Brady don’t check that for his boss. That adobe wall over yonder will give us our best shot at ’em.”

  “Shot? I thought we was supposed to arrest Mathews.”

  “Oh, yeah, right. I almost forgot.”

  As the gray light brightened McNab and Middleton rode in. They dropped rein behind the Tunstall store and wandered into the white oaks with Fred and the Kid.

  Bowdre and O’Folliard rode in thirty minutes later. The Kid waved them into a vacant lot behind the Torreon wall.

  “Any sign of ’em?” Tom asked.

  “Not yet. They’ll be along sooner or later. Did McSween come in with you?”

  “He figured to hang back until we had the street clear,” Char lie said.

  “He don’t trust Dolan much, does he?”

  “Would you?”

  Billy smiled his crooked smile. “No further than the barrel of my gun.”

  Bowdre stared out the window. “You figure they’ll put up a fight?”

  “Only if we give ’em the chance.”

  Lucy hurried off to the store. Mrs. O’Hara spoiled Ty with a breakfast fit for a king. As he lingered over coffee he mulled the situation. Lincoln was too small to hide in. Still there were a couple of things he needed to do. McSween returning to town might throw a match on dry tinder if Dolan was of a mind to bring the dispute to a head. He’d lie low in the store where he could keep an eye on Lucy in case things went bad. That would put him between Dolan and McSween’s return to town.

  He spotted Bowdre and O’Folliard from the widow’s parlor window. He thanked Mrs. O’Hara for her hospitality and slipped out the back door. He saddled the steeldust and rode east to the edge of town. He circled north to the crest of the ridge leading down to the river. He turned west and worked his way through the trees behind the buildings lining the north side of the street until he reached the back of the Tunstall store. He found the Regulators’ horses picketed there with more in the lot further west behind the Torreon Tower. He dropped from the saddle and ground tied his horse. He climbed the step to the back door and knocked. The floorboards within creaked under the big man’s bulk.

  “Who is it?”

  “Ty Ledger.”

  The door opened. Big Jim stepped back. “Glad you’re here. The boys is gatherin’ up the street. What’s up?”

  “They plan to serve the warrant on Mathews.”

  “I need to get out there.”

  “How many men you figure you need to arrest one man?”

  French returned a vacant stare.

  “Go on if you feel the need. I’ll keep an eye on things here.”

  French started for the front of the store.

  “Remember, Jim, you need to arrest Mathews. You tell those boys for me. A judge will decide his guilt or innocence.”

  French gave a half nod and disappeared.

  Lucy followed his back as she came to meet him behind the store. “I’m glad you’re here.” She came into his arms and let him hold her. “They’re gathering up the street at the Torreon. Do you think there’ll be trouble?”

  “I hope not, but there’s a lot of itchy trigger fingers about to face each other.”

  Her eyes turned liquid. “Promise me you’ll be careful if things go bad.”

  “I’m always careful. That’s why I want you out of here.”

  “I know. I’m just not used to bein’ looked after that way.”

  “Best get used to it.”

  “I, I plan to.” She tipped up on her toes and kissed him.

  By nine o’clock the Regulators had assembled at the Torreon. They fanned out behind the adobe wall. The Kid took the east end where he had a view down the street to the west end of town. The clock crawled through the early morning. Commercial traffic slowed to a trickle, as though the town sensed trouble and held its collec
tive breath. A chill northwest breeze blew ripples on the puddles collected in the street. The men hunkered down behind the wall cutting the wind. The Kid kept a sharp eye.

  Chisum led the way into the east end of town. Alex McSween drove the buggy carrying Susan and Leverson. Chisum drew rein. A cold northwest wind rippled the puddles on the drab deserted street. Susan shivered beside McSween. Blustery wet weather sometimes kept street traffic down. Sometimes. This had a different feel. The House loomed over the far end of town where the road wound away to the west. Chisum’s buckskin stomped, slapping a muddy splash. Trouble lurked somewhere between that hoofprint and Dolan’s commercial fortress. He could feel it. He squeezed the buckskin up the street.

  The Kid squinted at the rider and buggy coming down the street from the east end of town. Chisum and McSween, it had to be. He cut his eyes west. Three men spilled out of Dolan’s store and started down the street as if a welcoming committee sent to greet the visitor.

  “Here they come.” He filled his hand. The others scrambled into position. Brady ambled toward them flanked by Hindman and Mathews. The Kid eyed Mathews, walking on Brady’s outside shoulder. He might have to go through the sheriff to get to Tunstall’s killer. Tough, Brady had it comin’ too.

  Time slowed. The three men seemed in no hurry. All three wore guns, nothing heavy. It didn’t appear they expected trouble. Hindman gave a casual glance at the horses standing hipshot in the oak trees beside the Torreon as they drew close. He made no remark, not realizing they meant trouble until it was too late.

  The Kid let them pass along the wall and the guns hidden there. When they reached his position, he stood up with a grin.

  “Morning, Sheriff.”

  Brady paused as though accepting a citizen’s greeting and turned. The gap-tooth smile registered identity. He reached. The Kid’s muzzle flashed twice before his hand slapped leather. The top of the wall exploded in blooms of powder smoke. Hind-man dropped in a puddle with a mighty splash like a sack half filled with potatoes. Mathews bolted across the street for cover. The Kid followed his jerky gait with shots, kicking clods of mud into the wind. The deputy ducked out of sight.

  Ty bolted out of his chair at the first sound of gunfire. He dashed into the front of the store both guns drawn. Lucy froze, round-eyed.

  “You get down and stay down.”

  “What is it, Ty?”

  “Trouble.” The visitor bell sounded alarm as he ran out the door. He turned up the street. Two bodies sprawled in the mud just past the Torreon. The Bonney kid appeared gun in hand followed by Big Jim French.

  Further up the street a second burst of gunfire split the air. The Kid jerked and turned his gun on four men running from the direction of Dolan’s store. Other Regulators returned fire from positions behind the Torreon wall. Big Jim ran down the street toward Ty. The Kid limped back behind the wall.

  Jesse Evans led the House gunmen. Ty made out Buckshot Roberts and George Coe’s cousin Frank. He fired twice, giving Big Jim cover as he ran to the store. The Dolan men were forced to take cover, trading volleys with the Regulators forted up behind the wall. The standoff fell silent as suddenly as it started.

  McSween pulled the buggy to a stop beside Chisum. A cloud of gunsmoke drifted over the Torreon wall. Two bodies lay in the street. Other men further up the street fired on the wall. From their position, he guessed them for Dolan men. That made the men behind the wall Regulators. Bodies in the street could only mean the worst.

  “Let’s find some cover,” Chisum said.

  McSween wheeled the buggy into an alley. He helped Susan down. They’d find their way back to the store when the shooting ended.

  Behind the wall McNab took charge. There’d be hell to pay now.

  “You hit bad, Billy?”

  “Nah, took a little piece out of my ass is all.”

  “Then let’s get to the horses and get shut of this place.”

  They collected the horses before the Dolan men recognized they were moving. They swung to saddle leather. McNab led them north into the trees lining the ridge and down the wooded hillside to the river.

  “Horses movin’!” Evans dashed across the street. He jumped the wall followed by Roberts and Coe.

  The Regulators sleighed and slid through the white oak, pursued by a buzzing swarm of futile fire chewed up in the trees overhead. They broke onto the river’s edge and galloped east out of town, trailing a froth of silver white foam.

  The visitor bell startled Lucy. She let out the breath she’d been holding at the sight of Ty with his guns drawn. She’d hidden Big Jim in the cellar. She struggled to cover the trap door with a pickle barrel.

  “Here, let me give you a hand with that. You look guilty as sin.”

  “What happened, Ty?”

  “The Regulators tried to take Mathews. Brady and Hindman ended up shot. Evans and his boys joined in. I don’t know who started it, but I figure it’s a war now. The Regulators made a run for it. Dolan’s men will come lookin’ for me and Jim.”

  “You can hide in the cellar too.”

  “No, save that for him.” He went to the window and looked up the street. “Here they come. I’ll draw ’em off out the back when they get here. Jim, keep an eye on her until we decide what to do next.”

  A muffled mumble sounded up through the floor.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can sneak into town.”

  “Be careful, Ty.”

  He met her eyes. “I will.” He started for the back door as boots sounded on the boardwalk. He left the back door trail open and dashed for the steeldust. The visitor bell sounded behind him. He leaped into the saddle and put heels to flanks in a sprint to the tree-lined ridge. Guns charged at the back door. Bullets rattled and whined harmlessly through the trees as he disappeared down the slope.

  He followed the river east and turned south well out of town. He eased up on his horse. Now what?However it started, it had started. Blood spilled on both sides. Blood and greed provided more than enough cause for war. The law in Lincoln lay dead in the street, not that Brady’s brand of law ever amounted to much. McSween might see reason, but between the bank and the store, he now had a big stake in this fight. Dolan had his stake all on the line. He’d give no quarter. Widenmann would help if he weren’t stuck in the stockade at Fort Stanton. Fort Stanton, that’s it.He circled back west.

  Fort Stanton

  Ty made the fort by late afternoon. He rode straight to Colonel Dudley’s office and stepped down. The sergeant major greeted him in the small regimental office.

  “Afternoon, Marshal Ledger. Is the colonel expecting you?”

  “He’s not, Sergeant. This isn’t a social call. It’s official business.”

  “I see. I’ll tell him you’re here.”

  “No need, Sergeant.” Dudley filled the doorway to his office. “Something serious, Ty?”

  “I’m afraid so, Nate.”

  “Come in then.”

  Ty followed Dudley into his office.

  “Have a seat. Now, what’s the trouble?”

  He spun out the events of the morning over in Lincoln. Dudley listened intently stroking his chin as he finished.

  “So you say Brady is dead.”

  “Best I could tell.”

  “That doesn’t leave much by way of civilian law over there.”

  “Deputy Sheriff Mathews seems to have gotten away, though the Regulators hold a federal warrant for his arrest on murder charges.”

  “And the Regulators are deputies of Marshal Widenmann who is no longer in charge of that case.”

  “What we’ve got over there, Nate, are two armed camps fixin’ to go to war. Isn’t there something you can do?”

  “I can’t just ride over there and declare martial law. The governor requested that we support the civil authorities.”

  A knock sounded at the door. “Begging your pardon, sir, a rider is here from Linclon requesting support following the shooting of the sheriff this morning.”

  “V
ery well. Ty, I’m afraid I’ll have to attend to this.”

  “But you’ll be sending troops in to support the Dolan faction.”

  “I’m sending troops to support civil authority. Those are my orders.”

  “But that’s who you are going to assist.”

  “I’m sorry, Ty. I can try reporting the situation to my chain of command, but I wouldn’t hold out much hope without a change in the governor’s order.”

  McSween led the way to their home through the back of the alley. Susan followed with Leverson and Chisum. He let them in by the back door. Out front the street swarmed with Dolan men searching for any Regulators who might still be in town. As late afternoon sun sank to the mountaintops, a new commotion sounded in the street. McSween pulled back a lace curtain.

  “Look at this.”

  Chisum joined him at the window. A troop of cavalry loped up the street, pennants snapping in the breeze. The column halted up the street at the House. Dolan clumped down the steps to meet them. Captain Purington dismounted to greet him. Moments later George Peppin joined Dolan and the captain. Dolan gestured toward the McSween house. Peppin, the captain and a detail set off down the street. Dolan returned to his store. Peppin and the cavalrymen presented themselves at the McSween front door with a stout knock. McSween and Chisum exchanged a glance as the lawyer went to answer the door. Leverson followed at his shoulder.

  “George, what can I do for you?”

  “That’s Deputy Sheriff Peppin, McSween. We come to search your house.”

  “When did you become deputy sheriff?”

  “Shortly before Sheriff Brady’s demise.”

  “Any such appointment expired with the sheriff.”

  “I’m all the sheriff we have in Lincoln for now. We’re going to search your house.”

  “Search my home, what for?”

  “For the men responsible for the shootings this morning.”