Devil Rising

by R. B. Conroy

  “Nope, it’s a little early. The polls just closed. It will be a little while before the ballots are all counted. How’d it go out at Faraday’s?” Ed asked.

  “Not too well, Ed,” Jon replied. “Faraday didn’t want to talk about Canady. When I brought him up, he tried to throw us out.”

  “Oh boy! I’ll bet that didn’t go over too well,” Ed’s eyes were wide with anticipation.

  “Sure didn’t. Cook grabbed my shoulder and I let him have it a couple of times.”

  “A couple of times? Oh my! Is he dead?” Ed exclaimed.

  “Not quite.” Camp joined the conversation. “But when we left he didn’t look too good.”

  “I heard he’s a boxing champ or something,” Ed said, always amazed at the great punching power of big Jon. “A couple of times. Wow! He’ll be laid up for awhile!”

  “I had to teach him a lesson. Least now they know I mean business,” Jon said quietly, a little embarrassed by all the talk.

  “Better watch your back side partner, a man like Clive Cook has a lot of pride and you humiliated him in front of his boss. I got a feelin’ you’ll see him again,” Ed said, eye brows raised toward his boss.

  “Thanks for the warning, Ed. We’re going down to the Barbee and grab some dinner. I’ll have Sam send you down a plate.” Jon and Camp turned to leave.

  “You’re all heart!” Ed bellowed.

  As they walked down to the Barbee, Jon thought about his visit to Faraday’s enclave. Faraday’s a proud man, he won’t give up easy. This will be a tough fight.

  Camp interrupted Jon’s thoughts, “Hey Jon, is that Canady over there talkin’ to Web Norton?” he asked. Two men were standing in the street near the one room school. Norton was an average sized man; the other man was small and thin.

  “Yea, that’s him,” Jon said as he and Camp came to a stop on the wooden walkway. Jon leaned against a support post and looked across the dusty street at the two men.

  “He’s doesn’t look that mean to me,” Camp quipped.

  “Don’t let his size fool you Camp. He’s mighty quick on the draw and he ain’t afraid of nothin’. He’d kill his own mother if the price was right. Butch Canady is one bad man.”

  Jon told Camp about his time with Canady in the Kansas Territory. “I spent a couple of years in Dodge City after leaving the family farm in Indiana. Still wet behind the ears, I heard a lot about a local gunman named Butch Canady. And what I heard wasn’t good. He was a gun for hire. Several enemies of the sheriff in Dodge came up missing. Everyone knew who did it, but of course nothing was ever done about it. I saw him shoot a dog dead on the streets of Dodge just for barking too loud. Canady has a big empty hole inside of him and the only way to fill it is to hurt someone or something else. He is a very bad man.

  “What do you want to do for now, Jon?” Camp asked.

  “I’ve had enough fun for one day, Camp. We’ve got plenty of time to deal with Butch Canady. Let’s go have some dinner.”

  “Yea, he’d probably say somethin’ wrong and you’d let him have it and I’d have to take him to the Doc!”

  Jon lifted up Camp’s Sonoma straw hat and ruffled the young deputy’s hair as both men had a good laugh.

  Their fun was short lived as shots rang out from over by the little school house. People were screaming and running to get out of the way.

  “Looks like Canady’s making his presence known already,” Jon said as he jumped down from the walkway and ran like a shot toward the trouble. Camp was close behind.

  As Jon got closer he could see Canady standing over a young man waving his smoking six guns in his face and threatening him. At one point he kicked the fallen man in the groin. Jon drew his six guns as he got closer. He pointed them directly at Butch Canady’s back when he reached the scene.

  “Sheriff Stoudenmire here Butch, don’t make any sudden moves or you’re a dead man,” Jon said calmly.

  “My oh my, Jon Stoudenmire. Haven’t heard that name for a coon’s age, how are you, Jon?” Canady asked. He stood very still, not wanting to alarm the sheriff.

  “Listen real close Butch. I want you to slowly slide those six guns back in your holsters. If those guns go any way but straight down I’ll blow your damn fool head off.” Jon sounded tough and commanding.

  “No problem Jon, I ain’t lookin’ for no trouble,” the nasty gunman said as the white handled Cimarrons slid slowly out of his thin fingers and into the awaiting holsters.

  “Now, put your hands up and turn around slowly.”

  Butch felt the metal barrel of Jon’s six gun poke into his rib cage.

  “Okay Jon, stay calm. I don’t want no trouble with you,” Canady replied as he slowly turned around.

  As he turned, Jon had forgotten how strong he looked face on. Although a small man, he looked muscular and wiry. He had a square face, dark from the sun, with thin lips and a flat nose. His eyebrows were thick and bushy; his eyes looked black and empty. His face was accentuated by a thin black handle bar mustache. He was a tough looking hombre.

  “What seems to be the problem here, Butch?”

  “Seems like this fella over here says I killed his brother a while back in the Nebraska Territory. I said he was a liar and he drew on me. I shot him in the arm Sheriff, it was self defense. Web here will testify to that fact, right Web.”

  “Yea, it was self defense alright,” Web replied nervously.

  “Is that true, young fella?”

  “Yea, I drew on em alright. He shot my brother in cold blood and he’s gonna pay for it,” the young man shouted.

  “Are you just passin’ through?” Jon asked the youngster.

  “Yea, I’m on my way to Tombstone to visit family.”

  “I want you out of town by midnight tonight or I’ll throw you in jail for attempted murder. It’s for your own good. So get your supplies and get on out of town,” Jon said as Camp threw the young man his hat.

  “There’ll be another time, Mr. Canady,” the youngster shouted as he brushed his jeans and hurried off.

  “Well thank you Sheriff, you kept me from havin’ to kill that young fella,” Canady smirked; a brown stain popped in the dust as Butch spit on the street.

  “Listen to me, Canady. I know why you’re in town and I know what you’re up to. You would have killed that boy in a minute, but you got a job to do and you haven’t been paid yet.” Jon detested men like Canady. He wanted to put a bullet in his belly in the worst way.

  “You win this time Sheriff, but I’m gonna be around for awhile. So I’m sure we’ll meet again,” Canady said coldly.

  “I sure hope so, Butch! I’d like nothin’ better than for you and I to go one on one.”

  Canady’s mouth curled up in a wicked smile as he mounted his horse and rode toward Faraday’s saloon with Web Norton close behind.

  “Sure seems like a nasty critter,” Camp said.

  “One of the worst. Gotta keep a close eye on him,” Jon replied as he slid his two Army Colts back in their holsters.

  “Let’s get some grub!”

  The man with the striped hat pounded the Honky-Tonk piano. Turkey in the Straw resounded throughout the saloon. The gambling hall was buzzing with activity; laughter filled the air as Jon and Camp entered the Barbee to get little grub and wait for the election results.

  “Howdy boys,” Sam the bartender slid a couple of shots of Early Times in front of the two lawmen.

  “Howdy Sam.” Jon walked over and took his usual spot at the end of the bar. He could see the room better from there. Just in case some unhappy relative of one of the men he’d killed happen to show up and try to get even.

  “What was the gunplay all about?”

  “Alex Faraday’s hired gun winged a guy out there,” Camp replied.

  “What’s the guy’s name?’ Sam asked.

  “Butch Canady and he’s a bad one,” Camp replied.

  Suddenly two shots rang out by the front door.

  “Listen up everybody!” the smallish electio
n official shouted, six gun still smoking. “The results are in!” The official’s small hand slipped inside into his vest pocket; a crinkled up piece of paper appeared. “For County Commissioner the results are! Alex Faraday 474. Clive Cook 387, Paul Nettles 212, Dave Carson 123, and Jeb Harter 82. Our two newly elected Commissioners are Alex Faraday and Clive Cook. Since the positions are vacant due to a death and sudden retirement, their terms will start immediately, thank you!” There was nice applause and several ‘here, heres,” as the official hurried out the door.

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” Jon said disgustedly. “They just got what they wanted.”

  “Yea, they’re going to try and take over now and the town doesn’t even know it, it ain’t right!” Camp complained.

  Jon looked warily through the swinging doors at the scene outside. Norton and Canady rode by at full gallop, anxious to get the news of the election to Alex Faraday. The billowing dust from their horses’ pounding hoofs darkened the street. As the dust cleared, Jon could see the sun setting under the surrounding hills. It was a calm and beautiful scene. Those men must be stopped! Jon thought as he looked out at the quiet street.

  Chapter 8

  Alex Faraday paced as he awaited the results of the election. Even though he and Cook were the favorites, he was nervous about the pending results. A few minutes later, he heard riders approaching.

  “Clive, somebody’s here!” Alex shouted as he leaned out of a large side window.

  Alex saw Cook rush from the stables, holding his sore stomach.

  An anxious Alex was already coming out the front door. He looked intently at Web. “Well, for God’s sake man, say something!”

  “It was a sweep Alex, you both won!” Web Norton replied.

  Butch Canady dismounted and tied down; he appeared disinterested.

  “I dare say that’s the best news I’ve heard in some time,” Alex replied. “And I’m sorry, is this gentleman Mr. Canady?”

  “Oh yes, sorry Alex, in all the excitement I forgot to introduce you,” Web replied.

  “It’s certainly a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Canady. Welcome to the ranch,” Alex said graciously, extending his right hand to the gunman.

  “Good to meet you Alex,” Canady said quietly, he gripped Faraday’s outstretched hand for a quick shake. “Hope I can help out around here.”

  “Well I’m sure you can, Mr. Canady. We have a lot of things to get done and your services will be a big part of that.” Alex grinned at the notorious gunman. “Now, will you all join me in my study for a touch of brandy?” The Englishman gestured toward the study.

  Nervous conversation filled the room, as Clive clumsily poured each man a snifter. Alex leaned back and stuffed some Scottish Blend tobacco into his Aldo Velani pipe. He turned slightly to his left and struck a match on the stone fireplace just behind his chair. He lit up and began to explain his plan to take over the gambling and prostitution in Logan’s Crossing. “Gentlemen, we have a wonderful opportunity here to all become very wealthy men. We now have two of the five County Commissioner positions. And since the Commission rules by majority vote, all we have to do is convince one of the other Commissioners to see things our way and we’ll have this town in the palm of our hand.” He smiled smugly, proud of how he had duped the local people into voting for he and Cook.

  “How do the other Commissioners feel about things?” Norton asked.

  “Well, Tom Baldwin is the current President of the Commission and he’s a pretty straight arrow, I don’t see much hope with him. Of the other two Commissioners, Jed Orton and Bill Hancock, I believe Orton is our best bet. His mine burned out a couple of years ago. He tried a couple of other veins, but they didn’t produce much. I’m sure he’s very short of cash. I think with the right proposal, Jed would be happy to side with us. Bill Hancock is pretty well off; he would be difficult to buy.”

  “Sounds like a cozy little plan Faraday, but what if Orton can’t be bought?” Butch Canady asked. His dark eyes narrowed as he sipped the brandy.

  “Well Mr. Canady, that’s where you come in. Your job will be to convince Jed to see it our way.”

  “And what if he still doesn’t want to cooperate, what then?” Canady pushed on.

  “Well then, I guess we’ll just have to eliminate him,” Alex said coldly. “Then there will be a special election and we’ll run Web here to fill his spot. Web’s lived around here all of his life, he would win easily.”

  A hush came over the room. The men looked intently at their boss.

  “No problem Alex, but the sheriff isn’t going to take Jed’s death sittin down. And he’s got a horse in this race, Web tells me the pretty owner of the Barbee’s his lady friend.”

  “You are correct, Mr. Canady. Sheriff Stoudenmire is a very substantial adversary indeed. He knocked Clive senseless the other day with just two punches.”

  Clive’s large face and bald head turned bright red.

  “And yes, there is a strong bond between he and Miss Thompson,” Alex continued. “That’s all the more reason I hired you Butch. And just so there is no misunderstanding, Mr. Stoudenmire is part of your responsibility. I’m sure Clive wouldn’t mind giving you a hand if the circumstances called for it,” Faraday said. Clive nodded in the affirmative.

  Canady frowned a little as he replied, “You should of told me Stoudenmire was the sheriff before I came here. He’s one bad hombre, most people that mess with him end up dead.” Canady fidgeted with the diamond cluster ring on his left hand.

  “I hired you to do a job Mr. Canady and I’m paying you very well. Whether you like it or not, Sheriff Stoudenmire is part of your job. Can you handle this or not?” Faraday was looking carefully at the gunman.

  Canady paused for a moment and then spoke up. “I’m in alright Faraday, but my price just went up to a hundred a week plus expenses.”

  “What?” Faraday exclaimed.

  “You heard me Faraday, take it or leave it.”

  “Alright, alright, we’ve got a deal,” Faraday said reluctantly. “It’s too damn late to find anyone else, but you’d better get the job done.”

  Suddenly, Web Norton jumped in the conversation, “I’m gettin’ kind of worried Boss.”

  “Worried, Web? About what?”

  “Camp Wilson’s been hangin’ round with Stoudenmire a lot lately. He’s been deputized once or twice. He’s young and fearless and good with a gun.”

  “Okay Web, so what?”

  “Well.... I’ll tell you what! Stoudenmire’s also got Morgan and Malone when he gets better. Those are four darn tough men. Clive and Web are plenty good enough, but I think we’re gonna need another gun,” Web said somberly.

  “Ummm...I see what you mean my friend. It’s a point well taken. The only problem is, this is all getting just a might expensive,” Alex replied.

  “I understand Boss. But I think I might be able to get us a gun pretty cheap. Maybe for a few hundred dollars of bail money,” Norton had a sly look on his face.

  “Well that sounds promising, go on.”

  The brandy snifter plopped on the end table; Web smacked his lips and continued. “Stoudenmire just arrested Zing Fuller today for the shooting of Deputy Malone. The sheriff shot and killed the other fella in a showdown near the river. He’s the one who shot Deputy Malone. They ain’t got much on Fuller; bail should be low. We could offer to pay Fuller’s bail if he joins up with us. Then we’d just offer board and room and a chance for his freedom when his hearing rolls around. He’s got nowhere to go, he’d probably take it.”

  “An interesting idea Norton, do you think Stoudenmire would go along with it?”

  “The sheriff’s department is broke after building that new jail. They could probably use the cash. Besides, if we get the judge to set a low bail, Stoudenmire doesn’t have any choice in the matter.”

  “That is interesting. What’s the story on Fuller?” Faraday asked as he downed the last sip of brandy and poured himself another.

  “I know a little a
bout him,” Canady chimed in as he lifted a crinkled cigarette out of his shirt pocket, lit up and waved the smoke away from his eyes. “Luke Short hired him as an enforcer at his saloon in Dodge. He’s tough and good with a gun. Not one to trifle with. I’d try and get ‘em if I were you.”

  “Alright, let’s give it a shot,” Faraday said. “Clive, why don’t you, Web and Butch ride into town tomorrow and find out what the situation is with Fuller. If he’s in, you can go up to three hundred on bail. Any more than that, and we will do with what we got.”

  “Okay Boss,” Web replied.

  “Well, that’s enough conversation for one evening. Gentlemen, why don’t we all retire?” The handsome Brit led the group toward the lavish dining room.

  * * *

  Back in town, Jon and Camp were finishing dinner at the Barbee as darkness settled in over the desert town.

  The cool beer flowed into Jon’s dry mouth. He gently sat the empty mug on the table and sat back. He reached inside his leather vest and pulled out a fresh cigar. He struck a match on his belt buckle and took a long, hard drag off the yellow-blue flame. He squinted a little through the smoke and spoke to Camp. “Things are heating up around here Camp. Faraday’s going to move fast now that he and Cook have been elected. We’ve got to stop ‘em dead in their tracks.”

  Camp chewed his last bite and pushed his plate forward. “Good grub tonight,” he said as he nervously played with the gold ring on his shooting hand. “I agree Jon, things seem to be movin’ awful fast around here. What do you think they’re gonna do?”

  “I think they’re going after Jed Orton first, and sooner rather than later. He’s had some tough times lately. His mine went bust last year. He tried a couple of smaller veins on the short side of the mountain and they dried up pretty quick. They’ll play on Jed’s troubles and try to bribe him. Jed’s had a checkered past, a little gambling here and there. He got involved in some rustling down El Paso way a few years ago. He’s been trying to go straight ever since he came to town, but it’s been a struggle for him. I’m afraid he’s an easy target. Back when things were going good at the mine, he bought a little chicken farm just outside of town. It’s not much, but it keeps him going.”