by Duane Boehm
“We’ll meet at five tomorrow morning where we now have our horses tied and then we’ll hide all the horses and wait for someone to come get them. It’ll be just like the old days in the war when we got to use the element of surprise. You can head back to town and I’m headed home,” Gideon said.
“The biggest surprise will be if I don’t shoot you for getting me up so early,” Finnie said before spinning around and walking back towards their horses.
∞
Gideon stood waiting as Finnie rode up in the predawn morning. He contemplated jumping out to scare the Irishman but thought better of it, having no desire to catch one of Finnie’s famous right–hooks as his deputy defended himself against a perceived ghost.
“Over here, Finnie,” Gideon whispered.
“I was afraid I wasn’t going to find this place in the dark,” Finnie said.
“We’ll walk our horses through the trees and then go hide all of them and then we’ll wait in the pines until somebody comes to retrieve them,” Gideon said.
“Do you think we have time before they get here?” Finnie asked.
“Have you ever known of an outlaw that wasn’t lazy? They don’t like work. We’ll be starving by the time they get here,” Gideon said as he started maneuvering through the pines with very little light in which to see.
They hid the string of horses as well as their own mounts on the backside of a nearby ridge and began walking back to the pines. The cool morning lent itself to a brisk pace without working up a sweat. As they walked, the sky lightened enough that the world looked as if it were painted in gray.
Reaching the trees, Gideon said, “Right here is the path. You get behind that pine and I’ll get behind the one on the other side. We’ll wait for somebody to show up and take them. It should be easy.”
“And then what?” Finnie asked.
“The rest of them will come looking for him either together or one by one. We’ll wait for them on the front side. They’ll be coming across all that rock and there won’t be any place for them to hide,” Gideon said as he took his place behind the pine.
The sun had topped the horizon by the time they heard the sound of someone coming, making more noise than a bull on a rampage. The man walked into the clearing and stopped.
“Oh, shit. Somebody stole the horses,” he said aloud.
Gideon stealthily maneuvered around the pine and walked up behind the man, driving the butt of his Winchester between his quarry’s shoulder blades and sending the outlaw nose first into the ground. Cocking his rifle, Gideon pushed the barrel against the man’s skull behind his ear.
“Weasel, I’m sure that I owed you that for something that you did back in school,” Gideon said as he reached down and retrieved the outlaw’s revolver from its holster. “Now roll over.”
The outlaw complied with the order, studying the sheriff as Gideon stood over him with the rifle pointed at his upturned nose.
“Gideon Johann. I thought you was dead,” Weasel said.
“Apparently not,” Gideon said as he pulled a kerchief from his pocket. “Shove this into your mouth.”
‘It don’t look none too clean. Does it got snot on it?” Weasel asked.
“I don’t recall, but your only other option is that I kill you and then you’re going to be tasting dirt,” Gideon said as Finnie handed him his kerchief and some leather bindings he had retrieved from his saddlebag.
Weasel stuffed the cloth into his mouth before Gideon took the other kerchief and gagged him. The sheriff then tied Weasel’s hands behind his back with the leather strips and hogtied them to his feet, leaving the outlaw helpless on his stomach in the grass.
“Let’s take a walk to the other side,” Gideon said to Finnie.
“What do you think happens now?” Finnie asked.
“Don’t know. I haven’t decided if I think that they’ll come one at a time or all together. I wish they’d come one by one. Maybe we could waylay them all and not have to shoot anybody. That would be a good day. If they come scattered out, then you take the far right one and I’ll take the left. We’ll worry about the ones in the middle after that,” Gideon said.
“I didn’t bring enough leather to tie up all of them,” Finnie remarked.
“That’s probably the least of our worries,” Gideon said as they reached the other side of the pines. The two men took cover fifteen yards on either side of the path entrance and waited.
Over an hour passed before they saw the four men in the distance walking towards them. They were scattered out and all carrying rifles as they searched for signs of Weasel. The men appeared nervous and edgy as they cautiously walked.
Gideon waited until the outlaws were no more than thirty yards away before shouting, “Throw down your guns and nobody gets hurt.”
Three of men turned their heads to look at the man second from the left for apparent direction on what next to do. That outlaw raised his rifle, firing in the direction of Gideon’s voice. Gideon’s and Finnie’s rifles roared like two sixteenth notes on a marching drum before the others had time to aim. The men on the far left and right flung backwards off their feet. The two remaining outlaws took off running to their left as Gideon and Finnie unloaded on them. Just before the two men reached a crop of rock, one of them dropped to the ground, but managed to jump up and limp to safety. They began firing wildly into the pines, forcing Gideon and Finnie to keep hugging the ground as the bullets tore through the branches. The two lawmen held their fire, waiting for a pause in the barrage.
“You two might as well surrender. There’s no way that you can escape. Throw out your guns and stand with your hands in the air,” Gideon shouted.
A shot zipped through the air, hitting the ground close enough to kick up dirt onto Gideon and pissing him off.
“Go to Hell,” one of the outlaws yelled.
Gideon scampered back through the trees until he found Finnie crouched on the ground with his rifle trained towards the rocks.
Finnie looked over his shoulder. “What now? This could take all day and I’m hungry. They barely show themselves when they pop up and shoot. We might never get a decent shot. They’d only hit something if they got lucky.”
“Why are you complaining? They don’t even know where you are. All the shots are towards me, and last time I checked, a lucky shot kills the same as a well–aimed bullet,” Gideon said.
“You won’t ever die from a lucky shot. It wouldn’t go well with the legend of Gideon Johann,” Finnie said. Calling Gideon a legend was something that Mary had begun when she first met him upon his return to Last Stand. Finnie had picked up on the jest and started doing the same.
Ignoring the ribbing, Gideon said, “I’m going to walk through the trees to where that ridge runs into the woods. I should be able to go down the backside of it until I’m straight across from those two. From the top, I should have a clean shot. When I shoot, you shoot too, so they know we got them covered from two directions. Maybe they’ll surrender. I’m going to miss my first couple of shots to give them a chance. Two dead is enough for one day.”
“You really are in a gracious mood. The legend would grow more if you killed off the Cooper Gang,” Finnie said.
Gideon turned and walked away without replying. He zigzagged his way through the pines until he came to the ridge that ran perpendicular to the trees. As he maneuvered across its backside, the trees thinned out and the terrain changed to brush and small rock that gave way beneath his boots and rolled down the slope. After he walked what he judged to be the correct distance, he climbed to the ridgetop and peeked over the edge. His location spanned about sixty yards from the two outlaws and slightly behind them. The two men were crouched behind the rock and an easy target. Aiming behind them, he squeezed off a shot and watched it kick up rock near enough them to spray the outlaws and make them jump. A couple of seconds later, Finnie fired his gun. The two men tried making themselves as small as possible as Gideon fired again. The shot barely missed the nearest man.
After a moment’s hesitation, the men stood and threw their guns on the other side of the rock that they had used for cover. Gideon scrambled down the ridge and started walking towards the men while Finnie did the same. They both held their rifles near their chest, ready to fire if necessary. The two men remained standing with their hands in the air and offered no resistance as the lawmen approached.
Walking past the two bodies, Gideon recognizing the dead men from wanted posters as Horace Cooper and Robert Hopkins. The captured men were the remaining brothers, James and Bucktooth Cooper. They certainly didn’t look as Gideon had imagined and contrasted with some newspaper articles that he’d read that painted the brothers as well dressed. Their clothes looked worn, holey, and ill fitting. The hats they wore retained no shape, but slouched down over their ears. Both brothers stood about Gideon’s height, but burly.
James took a step towards Gideon. “One of you killed my brother Horace. That wasn’t a smart thing to do.”
“You take one more step and you’ll be joining him in the hereafter. It wasn’t too smart of you to put up a fight when you were all standing out in the open. If you wanted to try and kill me, you could have fought it out to the end and found out which one of us was left standing,” Gideon said.
“I ain’t dead yet. There still might be another time so I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you,” James said.
“You talk mighty big for a man with his hands up in the air,” Gideon said.
“I knew I should’ve never trusted that little piss ant Weasel. He said we’d never be found in that cave,” James Cooper said.
“You probably wouldn’t have been if you had lain low during the day and not made a fire,” Gideon said.
“We was hungry. We had to go hunt some food,” James said defensively.
“A growling belly will make a man do foolish things,” Finnie chimed in.
Bucktooth reached down, grabbing the back of his thigh. “You shot me. I need a doctor.”
“We’ll have Doc take a look at your wound. You don’t look like you’re hurt too badly to me,” Gideon said.
“It hurts,” Bucktooth protested.
Turning to Finnie, Gideon said, “Tie their hands so we can get out of here. I think I’ll buy you a big breakfast at the hotel when we get back in town. We have some celebrating to do.”
Chapter 3
Riding through town, Gideon and Finnie, accompanied by their three prisoners and two bodies draped across saddles, made quite the spectacle. The Cooper Gang was notorious enough that some people recognized them from the newspapers and pointed in surprise as they passed. Gideon left the two bodies with the cabinetmaker with instructions to store them in a cellar until he knew what to do with them. They locked James and Weasel in separate cells before marching Bucktooth across the street to the doctor’s office.
Doc Abram, in his late sixties, liked to play the part of an old curmudgeon, but his acts of kindness and caring for his patients belied his true nature. Universally regarded as the town’s leading gossip, he could also keep confidences for decades. The doctor remained one of only a handful of people that Gideon considered a true friend.
“I’ve got you a customer,” Gideon said as the three men entered the office.
Doc glanced up from his desk at the man standing with his hands tied with leather bindings. “What’s wrong with him?” he asked.
“They shot me in the leg. It knocked me down and it hurts to walk,” Bucktooth said.
“Drop your britches and let me have a look,” Doc said.
Bucktooth struggled to pull his suspenders off his shoulders until Gideon reached over and did the task for him. The outlaw pulled his pants down and turned so the doctor could see the wound. ‘Is it bad?” he asked.
The doctor bent over and examined the injury. “I’ve seen cat scratches on children a lot worse than this and with a lot less bellyaching to boot. You might have fallen down in surprise, but that shot didn’t knock you down. You can quit your limping now too,” he said as he retrieved a bottle of iodine and dabbed the wound.
“Well, it felt bad,” Bucktooth said defensively.
Doc looked towards Gideon and Finnie. “You two might want to invest in some spectacles or shotguns if you can’t shoot any better than that.”
Gideon grinned and rubbed the scar on his cheek. “I’m going to have to buy you a beer to get you in a better mood. Those two ran like jackrabbits. We got them all the same. This here is Bucktooth Cooper. You can tell everybody that you doctored a famous outlaw.”
“He’s not the first. Every one of them has been a whiner. Get him out of here,” Doc snapped.
Finnie tipped his cap at the doctor. “Good day to you, you grouchy old sawbones,” he said before they left with their prisoner.
After locking Bucktooth in a third cell, Gideon sat down at his desk, pulled a stack of wanted posters from his drawer, and began leafing through them. He pulled five of the posters out and set them to the side.
“Finnie, we’ve got twelve thousand dollars in reward money coming our way. I think we should split it four ways with Ethan and Zack. We wouldn’t have known about the gang without them. Even with splitting it, it’s more money than any of us has ever seen in our lifetime,” Gideon said.
“You mean they pay the reward to the law too? I thought that was just for bounty hunters,” Finnie said.
“Yes, they do. I’ll telegraph the U.S. Marshal and see what he wants to do with these three,” Gideon said.
Finnie began dancing the steps to an Irish jig and humming an accompanying melody. “I’m as giddy as an Irishman locked in the wine cellar. Finnegan Ford has three thousand dollars to his name and I’m Mary’s equal now,” he said before rushing Gideon and kissing him on the cheek before the sheriff had time to react.
“You ever do that again and that money is going to be used to bury your ass in a gold coffin. Come on. I’m going to telegraph the marshal and then I’ll buy you that breakfast that I promised,” Gideon said before pulling a clean kerchief from his pocket and vigorously rubbing his cheek.
By the time that the two men finished breakfast, Gideon was ready to get away from Finnie for a while. The Irishman, giddy with excitement over his change in fortune, had talked non–stop through the meal. His thick Irish accent, spoken with rapid–fire speed in his elation, had sounded like a foreign language and Gideon understood little of what had been said.
After paying for the meal, Gideon said, “I’m going to ride out to see Ethan. You stay here and keep an eye on the prisoners. Stay away from those three. I want us together when we deal with them.”
“Don’t you worry. I’m not about to let my reward go anywhere. My aim will be considerably more accurate this time if they try to pull something,” Finnie said as sauntered off towards the jail.
Gideon rode to the cabin and found Ethan and Zack splitting firewood out in the yard while Sarah sat on the porch sewing.
Climbing down from his horse, Gideon said, “Looks like Sarah is cracking the whip around here. She’s a mean one.”
Sarah had played a big role in nursing Gideon back to health when he was found shot. They had never met up to that point in time, but still developed a sibling like relationship. He still sought out her counsel when he needed unvarnished advice. Sometimes her opinion might not be what he wanted to hear, but it was always the truth and he loved her dearly.
“And my hearing is just fine. Be good or you’ll be joining them,” Sarah said as she walked off the porch to greet Gideon. “What brings you out here?”
Waiting until the three of them had gathered in semicircle around him, Gideon said, “I got some good news. Finnie and I caught the Cooper Gang. We’re going to split the reward with Ethan and Zack. That’s three thousand dollars apiece. You can buy firewood with that kind of money.”
Zack and Sarah stood looking dumbstruck while Ethan
shifted his weight from one leg to the other, appearing uncomfortable.
“Gideon, you don’t have to do that. You and Finnie are the ones that risked your life, not Zack and me,” Ethan said.
“Nonsense. They could have been at Moccasin Cave for a year and nobody would have been any the wiser if you hadn’t seen them or somebody could have happened along and gotten themselves killed. I don’t need any more money than that anyways,” Gideon said.
Sarah threw her arms around Gideon and hugged him. “I knew I nursed you back to health for a reason,” she teased. “You and Abby are such dear friends.”
“I’d make Ethan build on to the cabin with some of that money,” Gideon said, grinning at Ethan.
“Well, who do you think that she is going get to help me if we do? You’ll live to regret that suggestion,” Ethan said.
Zack cleared his throat. “You’d really do that for me?” he asked.
“Well, since you’re married to my daughter, it’s kind of keeping it in the family. Knowing Joann, she’ll probably want to spend all of it or not a nickel. I’m not sure which, but I’m sure she’ll have an opinion one way or the other,” Gideon said.
“I planned on telling you the next time I saw you that we got approved for our homestead. We should be able to really do things right with the reward. That money is going for the homestead and I don’t care what Joann thinks about it,” Zack said.
Gideon grinned at his son–in–law, remembering all the grief that his daughter had put upon Zack during their courtship. “My, my, my, have we grown a backbone, Zack?”
“You know how Joann is. She still gets her way plenty, but when I put my foot down, she listens. You can’t be washy with that girl,” Zack said.
Sarah smiled and shook her head while listening to Zack talk as if he were the one that figured out all by himself how to handle Joann, when in fact, she, Ethan, and Gideon had all told him time and again that the only way he was ever going to win Joann’s hand was to hold his own with her.
