The Devil's Posse

by Charles G. West

  There were no thoughts of fair play in Logan’s mind. He had no intention of calling them out to settle it in the street. He intended to shoot both men down, just as they would have done to him, just as Jake Morgan had with Billy, and just as Logan had with Jake. His sole purpose was not to duel, but to rid the world of some dangerous vermin.

  He stepped quickly inside the door and called out, “Morgan!” He wanted them to know who shot them. The two startled outlaws pushed the table over and hit the floor. Logan raised his rifle, preparing to rip the table apart. Before he could swing his rifle around to aim it, he felt the barrel of a rifle between his shoulder blades.

  “Pull that trigger and you’re a dead man,” a voice behind him warned. In that split second, he decided to pull the trigger anyway, even though he knew he couldn’t get both of them before he went down. It was too late—a blow to the back of his head knocked him senseless.

  Scrambling frantically to get up from the floor, Quincy and Lonnie came out from behind the table with guns drawn, both leveled at Logan. “Now, you son of a bitch,” Quincy roared, “this is the way you gave it to Jake.”

  Lonnie, thinking more rationally, in spite of the near miss with death, grabbed Quincy by the shoulder. “Hold on, Marshal,” he cried, thinking it wise to continue the charade. “We’ve finally caught him, and now we need to do the right thing for these good people of Spearfish.”

  “I’m fixin’ to do the right thing,” Quincy ranted, still intent upon putting a bullet in the dazed man’s head.

  “The authority vested in you as a U.S. Marshal says you have the right to sentence the prisoner to death by hangin’,” Lonnie said. He had no idea if a marshal had that authority or not, but he was willing to bet that no one else in the town knew it, either. Quincy wasn’t completely sold on the idea. He was passionate to spill the hated man’s brains on the floor. “It’ll all be legal that way,” Lonnie whispered in Quincy’s ear. “We can milk this town dry before we’re through.”

  Quincy began to see the advantage in what Lonnie was pushing for. “You’re right,” he exclaimed grandly. “I sentence this murderer to death by hangin’.” He looked at Lonnie and winked. “Sentence to be carried out as soon as we can find a rope and a tree.”

  “First off,” Lonnie said, “we need to thank this outstandin’ citizen who was smart enough to help the law.” He gave Sam Taylor a big nod of recognition. “That was a helluva whompin’ you put on him.” Sam could only stand there shaking, still unable to believe he had actually stepped in to stop a killing. “You stood up for law and order, Mr. Taylor, and I reckon you’d be the man to get us a rope.”

  “Yes, sir,” Sam stammered, and immediately left to get a rope.

  The noisy dining room of a few minutes before was shocked into almost total silence. Standing in the door of the kitchen, Hannah and Daisy peered over Mae’s shoulder in horror at the bleeding man on the floor, two pistols aimed at his head.

  “Sam Taylor, you son of a bitch,” Daisy murmured softly.

  Quincy, now in control of his anger, and convinced that Lonnie was onto something that might pay off generously in the future, sought to implant the right picture in the minds of the shocked spectators.

  “Everything’s under control now. Won’t none of you fine folks have to worry about this killer no more. We’ve been on this murderer’s trail for a long time, and we’ll send him to hell with the rest of his kind.” He made it a point then to look at Mae. “I’m especially pleased that we were able to arrest this man without a lot of gunplay in your dinin’ room, and no innocent people got hit by a stray bullet.”

  Still on his hands and knees, Logan felt his brain beginning to clear enough to hear his sentencing, although he still did not know who had struck him from behind. He only knew that his head felt as if it had been cracked open, and through his carelessness, he had gotten himself into this predicament.

  When his head cleared enough to look up, it was to meet the scornful gaze of Lonnie Morgan. “You ain’t so smart now, are you?” Lonnie asked, so only Logan could hear. “We’re fixin’ to stretch your neck for you and leave you hangin’ till the buzzards pick your bones clean.”

  Logan did not reply—his senses still addled somewhat. He shifted his gaze to meet that of Quincy’s. The counterfeit marshal smiled at him, basking in his triumph. A moment later, he holstered his .44 and cut off a short length of rope from the coil Sam Taylor had fetched. Then he pulled both of Logan’s arms behind his back and bound his wrists securely. With their prisoner completely under control, they lifted him up to stand on his feet.

  “I’m thinkin’ that big cottonwood tree outside the back door is the perfect place to carry out the execution,” Lonnie suggested.

  Almost paralyzed by the horror that had just occurred, Hannah finally found her voice. “Must you hang him?” she beseeched. “Maybe he could go to prison instead.”

  Hearing her own words, she realized how pitiful her plea, but her mind was in a swirl of confusion. What the marshal said must be right, but she could not understand how Logan could be two different people—one good and one evil.

  “No, ma’am,” Quincy said, making a show of patient benevolence. “For what he’s done, he wouldn’t get no prison time. They’d hang him, so it don’t make no sense to carry him all the way to Laramie when we can just get it done right here.”

  Unlike Hannah, Daisy had no confusing feelings regarding Logan’s right or wrong. In spite of evidence to the contrary, she saw him as a good man, especially when compared to the duo of Quincy and Lonnie Morgan and the rest of the scum that had made up the posse. She was also unafraid to say what she thought.

  “You’re in a helluva hurry to hang a man,” she spoke out. “Why don’t we give the man a fair trial?”

  Quincy cocked his head around to glare at her. “There ain’t no judge here in Spearfish,” he said.

  “Well, you’re actin’ like you’re the judge,” Daisy shot back. She returned his glare without a sign of wilting under his intense frown. “Besides, we can sure have a jury and give the man his day in court.”

  “He don’t deserve a day in court,” Quincy replied impassively. He had never felt anything beyond hostility from the cynical young woman, and he was in no mood to hear anything she had to say. “This is the business of the marshal’s office, and you’d best let us worry about it.” He grabbed Logan by the arm and announced, “Let’s get on with it!”

  Fully back to his senses now, and with no intention to go peacefully to his death, Logan responded with a violent kick, driving his boot up between Quincy’s legs. Caught completely by surprise, Quincy doubled up and dropped helplessly to his knees, grunting in agony.

  Although caught off guard as well, Lonnie was nevertheless quick to rap Logan across the side of his head with the barrel of his pistol, staggering him.

  He then turned to the spectators and demanded, “Couple of you fellers get over here and help carry this man outside.” Too fearful to refuse, Sam Taylor and a few of the other men came to do his bidding. “Mind you don’t let him get away,” Lonnie warned as they dragged Logan toward the door. “Hold it right there,” he said, stopping them before they went out. Knowing his cousin would never forgive him if he did the hanging without him, Lonnie paused to look at Quincy, who was still doubled up in incapacitating pain. “The marshal has to witness the hangin’ to make it official,” he offered in explanation for the delay.

  With no one knowing what to do for the helpless marshal, the room grew silent again while everyone waited for someone to act. Finally Daisy walked over to Quincy and quipped, “Is there something I can do for you, Marshal? Throw some cold water on you, or something?”

  “Get her away from me, or I swear I’ll shoot her,” Quincy growled to Lonnie.

  “Daisy,” Mae scolded, “get back over here!”

  “All right, I’m comin’,” Daisy replied. “I
was just tryin’ to see if I could help.” She looked at Logan before she turned and said, “That’s what I call puttin’ your best foot forward.”

  “Get away from here,” Lonnie ordered angrily.

  They waited until Quincy was finally able to slowly rise to his feet, humiliated and still in excruciating pain but able to walk, as Lonnie ordered them to drag Logan outside. Quincy followed them, walking slowly and gingerly.

  Chapter 14

  “Bring that horse around back,” Lonnie ordered, and the horse’s owner obediently ran to the hitching post in front of the boardinghouse and came back leading it. The word of the lynching having quickly spread, he was joined by most of the other men in town, as well as a few women. These included Daisy, Hannah, and Mae, who didn’t want to witness the hanging, but could not stay away.

  “Lemme do that,” Quincy insisted, and took the reins from Lonnie. “You throw a rope over that limb.”

  Lonnie took the coil of rope that Sam had brought, tied one end of it around a stick he found on the ground, and threw the stick over a suitable limb. Flipping the rope to give it slack, he worked the stick low enough to grab it. Then he untied the stick and began to fashion a hangman’s noose in the rope, glancing up frequently to give Logan a mocking grin.

  “Make sure you get it right, Lonnie,” Quincy said. He grabbed a handful of Logan’s hair and jerked his head back so he could make sure his victim knew what was coming. “I want that noose real tight,” he taunted. “Then I’m gonna lead this horse out from under you nice and slow so you don’t break your neck and go too quick. I want you to slide off easy so you hang there till you choke to death.” He gave Logan a sharp yank of his hair for emphasis. “And I want you to think about all the trouble you’ve caused me while your neck is stretchin’.”

  “How’s that?” Lonnie asked, holding the finished noose up for inspection.

  “That’ll do just fine,” Quincy said, and watched while Lonnie slipped the noose over Logan’s head and tightened it around his neck. “All right, you boys set him up there on that horse.” The reluctant volunteers picked Logan up and sat him in the saddle while Quincy held the horse’s reins.

  At this point, one of the spectators, Fred Ramsey, the owner of the dry goods store, spoke up. “Marshal, would it be all right if he had something he wanted to say? Maybe he needs to get right with God or something.”

  Quincy hesitated, but when Lonnie nodded, he said, “All right, but make it quick. I don’t wanna keep the devil waitin’.”

  Logan, now resigned to his fate, decided to speak, although it was obvious that the whole town believed Morgan’s lies. “All I’ve got to say is, one day, and I hope it won’t be long in comin’, you’ll all find out that this son of a bitch ain’t no more a marshal than I am.” He looked Quincy in the eye and said, “I’ll settle with you two, if I have to come back from the grave to do it.”

  “All right,” Quincy said, “you’ve had your say.” He started to lead the horse out from under Logan, but paused when a group of riders suddenly rounded the back corner of the house and pulled up before them. Coming out of their saddles even before their horses were fully stopped, they pushed through the small crowd of spectators.

  “Just hold it right there!” Jace Evans commanded. “There ain’t gonna be no hangin’ here.”

  “What the hell are you doin’?” Quincy demanded. “This is official business.”

  “The hell it is!” Jace responded. “You ain’t no U.S. Marshal, Quincy Morgan. You’ve been in prison for the past five years. So cut that man down.”

  Realizing that his hoax was discovered, Quincy knew he was going to have to act fast, but his desire to kill Logan Cross was too strong to ignore.

  “The hell I will,” he said, and slapped the horse on its croup. The startled horse sprang into a gallop, leaving the man in the saddle to fall as the crowd cried out in horror. Before the slack had time to jerk out of the rope, Logan was caught around his legs, his body held up to prevent his weight from breaking his neck. Standing next to the trunk of the tree where the other end of the rope was tied, Lou Cheatam quickly drew his knife and cut it, leaving Logan safe in the powerful arms of Ox Russell.

  In the confusion that followed, Hannah and Daisy ran to help Logan while Quincy and Lonnie, their guns drawn, backed away quickly, knowing they had only seconds to save their lives.

  In a desperate move, Lonnie grabbed Hannah around her waist and pulled her hard up against his body. He jammed his .44 up under her chin and started backing away again.

  “Get behind me, Quincy, and shoot the first son of a bitch that makes a move.” With his cousin behind him, he continued to back away toward the stable. “One little move to stop us and the lady gets her brains blowed out.” He nodded toward Sam Taylor. “You’ve been right helpful so far, so you can get in that stable and saddle our horses, and be quick about it. And remember, you try anythin’, and I’ll blow her brains out. All of you better listen to what I’m sayin’. I got nothin’ to lose if I have to kill her, but we’ll make you this deal. We’re takin’ her with us, settin’ right in the saddle in front of me. You don’t make any move to stop us, and we’ll let her go as soon as we get clear of town. We ain’t done no harm to anybody in this town. Our fight was with Logan Cross, so you ain’t got no reason to come after us, right? That’s the deal. We’ll be gone for good and nobody has to die, but you try somethin’ funny and a lot of you will die. That’s a promise.”

  “All right, you’ve got a deal,” Jace Evans said, not willing to take a chance with Hannah’s life. “But make no mistake about it, you’re to clear out of this territory for good. If you show up here again, you’ll be shot on sight. Is that understood?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Quincy responded. “There ain’t nothin’ in this town we wanna see again.” He and Lonnie continued to back away, using Hannah as a shield, while Sam ran to the stable to saddle their horses. “We’ll be keepin’ an eye on all of you from the stable while we’re gettin’ ready to ride. Don’t do nothin’ stupid. It ain’t worth gettin’ shot over.”

  The shocked crowd of spectators stood helpless as the two outlaws backed into the stable. The silence that had cloaked the gathering began to give way to murmurings of anger, and soon random voices spoke out against letting the outlaws ride out unharmed. It continued to rise until Jace spoke out.

  “Which one of you thinks it’s worth that young woman’s life to try to stop them from leaving town? We’re gonna have to take them at their word. They ain’t likely to wanna take a chance on harmin’ her and givin’ us a reason to come after them.”

  To remind them of his warning, Quincy appeared behind a couple of hay bales near the door, his rifle trained on the crowd. He remained there until Sam led the two saddled horses up behind him.

  “Step up in that saddle,” Lonnie told Hannah, and stood ready to boost her up on the horse. When she was seated in the saddle, he pulled her foot out of the stirrup so he could step up behind her. Once he was settled, with his arm tightened around her waist again, he signaled Quincy. “I’m ready,” he said. “Climb on your horse and let’s get the hell outta here.” While Quincy mounted up, Lonnie had a parting word for Sam. “Now, suppose you walk on out in front of us, and remember what I said about tryin’ anythin’ funny.”

  Sam, still smarting from the critical role he had played in upsetting Logan Cross’s confrontation with the two outlaws, thought seriously about doing something to prevent their escape. But he could think of nothing that would not endanger Hannah, so he did as he was told.

  “I’m truly sorry, Hannah,” he apologized as he walked by her.

  “‘I’m truly sorry, Hannah,’” Quincy repeated, mocking him. “Get goin’!”

  At a gallop then, they bounded out of the stable and raced down the street toward the south end of town and the mountains beyond, leaving a bewildered group of citizens behind. Jace Ev
ans took a moment to see if Logan was all right before getting his men in the saddle and ready to ride after the two outlaws and their hostage.

  “We’d best not crowd ’em too close,” he advised, “or they might not let her go. All I wanna do is bring the woman back. I ain’t interested in tryin’ to stay on their trail and endin’ up ridin’ into an ambush.” He only had three men with him, and he wasn’t willing to risk losing any of them. So he figured, To hell with them, as long as they kept going.

  “What if they don’t let Hannah go?” Daisy wanted to know.

  “I reckon we’ll have to worry about that if they don’t,” Jace replied. “But I don’t think they wanna get us on their tails. They’ll let her go.”

  Jace and the Triple-T men rode out then, leaving Ox behind, still concerned about Logan’s injuries. He stood silently by, watching Mae and Daisy clean and bandage the wounds on the back and side of Logan’s head. Their patient was not content to hold still for the treatment, insisting that he had to get under way after the two men who had sought to kill him.

  “If you don’t hold still, I’m gonna knock you in the head again,” Daisy threatened him. “You’re still bleedin’ outta the back of your head.”

  When she said it, she glanced at Sam Taylor, who was standing nearby, a worried look on his face. She knew he was waiting to get a chance to apologize for breaking the stock of his rifle on the back of Logan’s head.