As Eli felt the Colt’s barrel jam against his spine, he thought back to the friendly tone that had once been in the lawman’s voice. Perhaps he’d tested the lawman a bit too much during those conversations. Every man had a limit to his patience, and a sheriff would surely reach his a whole lot quicker when dealing with the likes of him. Saunders’s thick arm extended over Eli’s shoulder to shove open the door. Since his head was down and eyes averted, the first thing Eli saw were the brackets affixed on either side of the door’s frame. His guess was that a thick piece of timber could be dropped in there to keep the door shut and possibly turn the jailhouse into one large cell. Several noises in close proximity caused Eli to raise his eyes again and he was shocked to find no fewer than two dozen men as well as a few women clustered in a large group just a few paces away.
One of the men at the front of the pack stepped forward. He stood just over six feet tall, had shoulders wide enough to bring fallen logs to a lumber mill, and carried a shotgun cradled in the nook of one arm. “You brought him out, Vernon,” he announced. “Now hand him over.”
Saunders slapped a hand on Eli’s shoulder, pinning him in place. The outlaw took that as a direct command and stayed put. “Why would I do something like that?” the sheriff asked.
“Because you know it’s the right thing.”
“And what if I don’t agree with that assessment?”
“Then we’ll force you to step aside and take him anyway.” The man’s eyes narrowed and his grip tightened around the shotgun. “Don’t make this any uglier than it already is, because no matter how it happens, we’re taking that killer away and stringing him up. Whether there’s one grave or two when it’s all said and done is up to you.”
Chapter 9
Sheriff Saunders locked eyes with the man who carried the shotgun and asked, “You really want to go down this path, Mason?”
“You know I don’t. That’s why I’ve been doin’ everything short of begging you to do your job properly and string that murdering piece of trash up where he belongs.”
“I am doing my job. Were you there when the shooting happened?” When nobody answered, Saunders looked around and said, “Unless any of you were there to see what happened, I don’t want you telling me what I should or shouldn’t do!”
Another man spoke up. He was just under average height, had a slim build, and carried a rifle that was best suited for hunting rabbits or squirrels. “Some of the men that were there are buried out behind the church. You gonna tell us that criminal with you right now wasn’t a part of the gang that put those good men into the ground?”
“No,” Saunders replied. “I’m not telling you that. I haven’t said anything of the sort once in all the times you folks have been questioning me about how I do my job over the last few days. Haven’t I been clear with all of you any time you’ve come along to rake me over the coals?”
“You have,” Mason said. “And every one of the times I spoke to you, I told you this moment would be coming unless you carried out that outlaw’s sentence.”
“My deputy was at that ranch,” Saunders said. “Have any of you spoken to him?”
Silence dropped onto the crowd like a curtain. Considering the size of the group gathered in front of the jailhouse, that had a mighty big impact. Even Eli could figure out what it meant for the sheriff’s deputy to have made himself scarce at a moment like this.
“What about the other men who rode away from that ranch?” Saunders asked. “Did any of you try bothering them instead of me?”
“They were gunmen hired by some company that don’t even have an interest in this town,” Mason said. “Besides that, they’re long gone. You’re our sheriff. You’re still here and you work for us.”
Saunders wasn’t the sort of man to slouch, but he straightened up even more as he stood toe-to-toe with the shotgun-wielding local. His voice dropped to a harsh whisper, but he could still be heard clear as day in the stillness that had enveloped that small patch of ground. “My duty is to this town,” he snarled. “That’s a fact. My duty is to the law as well. I do my best to protect you folks’ interests, but don’t for one single moment think you can get me to jump just by snapping your fingers.”
“That’s not what I meant, Vernon.”
“The hell it isn’t! What do you call this, then? You all get an idea in your heads about how I should conduct myself. You get a burr under your saddle when I don’t do something exactly the way you think I should. That’s all fine and good. You all come to me, griping and spouting off about what you’d rather have me do. That’s fine too. What it all boils down to, though, is that I’m the sheriff around here. As soon as I pinned this star to my chest, my word and the law are mighty close to the same thing.”
“Comes a time when we gotta take things into our own hands if it’s bad enough,” the smaller man with the hunting rifle pointed out.
Shifting his focus to him, Saunders asked, “It is, Daniel?”
“Yes! That’s how this country was founded. Folks do things the right way, rather than stand by and watch them done wrong.”
The rest of the crowd cheered at that while also taking a collective half step toward Eli.
Without hesitation, Saunders placed himself close to the crowd with Eli at his back. “I am doing things the right way,” he said. “This man didn’t shoot anyone at the Lazy V and he sure had the opportunity. You don’t think so? Ask my deputy. Even if he’s too yellow to stand by me now, he’ll tell you this man could have killed him, but didn’t pull his trigger. That’s how I got the drop on him.”
“I heard as much,” said a woman in the crowd with her hair pulled into a tight bun and her eyes framed by deeply etched crow’s-feet. “And if you could only bring him in because he let you, maybe you’re not the sheriff we all thought you were.”
“Myra, I know your son was one of the men killed at the Lazy V,” Saunders said in a voice that was softer in tone than before. “And if this man here had anything to do with it, I’d tell you. Why would I hide such a thing?”
“That’s what we can’t figure out,” she said.
“There’s nothing to figure out.” Lifting his chin and raising his voice so his words would carry to every last one of the people in front of him, the sheriff declared, “The reason this man isn’t hanging for murders committed at the Lazy V is that he didn’t commit any of them.”
“Then why ain’t your deputy here to stand by you and say the same thing?” asked someone from deeper within the crowd.
“Because,” Saunders replied, “he’s afraid of being gunned down by an angry mob. And the next time any of you see him, tell him to make himself scarce because if I cross his path again, I’ll tan his hide personally.”
“Where do you think you’re taking him?” Mason asked while nodding toward Eli.
“Finally, someone asks a proper question,” Saunders mused. “He’s coming with me to hunt down the rest of that gang.”
“You trust him over your own deputy for that?”
“After what I’ve learned about my deputy today, I’d trust just about anyone more than that little coward.”
“What do you expect will happen when he finds the rest of his gang? You think he’ll just step aside and let you bring them in?”
“Doesn’t much matter what he wants or expects,” Saunders replied. “Just like it doesn’t matter what you folks expect. I’ve got a job to do and I’ll do it. If that’s not good enough, no matter who you are, that’s just too bad. Now, if you folks will stand aside, time’s wasting and the trail’s getting cold.”
Saunders attempted to walk over to Eli so he could lead him to where the horses were tethered. He was stopped when the crowd, led by Mason and Daniel, flowed outward to assert themselves. “You gonna deny that man there is part of the Jake Welles Gang?” Mason asked.
“I never denied that,” Saunders said.
“There’s a reward on all of their heads. They’re all wanted for murder. You want us to believe
otherwise?”
“We just went through this. If this one’s wanted for murder in another county, territory, or state, I’ll take him there personally so he can stand trial for it. If you want to see a man hang so badly, let me track down the rest of his gang. I’ll string them up in a row and you vultures can bring a picnic lunch. Until then, I’m your sheriff and you’ll do what I say.”
“Not anymore, you’re not,” Mason growled as he brought his shotgun up to bear. “You’re no longer our sheriff and we won’t listen to one more word that comes out of your mouth.”
Eli had been in plenty of hot spots when he’d ridden with Jake and he would gladly have stepped into any of those situations instead of this one because back then, he’d at least been armed. Now all he had to do was stand back and prepare for what would surely be the shortest escape attempt he’d ever made.
“Fine,” Saunders said. That single word was enough to sink Eli’s stomach faster than a canoe that had been on the wrong end of a shotgun blast. “There’s an official process to go through to take away my official position. You all start it and I’ll face the consequences when I get back.”
“You won’t be going anywhere,” Myra said. She too was holding a hunting rifle. Even though her hands were shaking, she didn’t need to be much of a deadeye to hit either one of her targets at point-blank range.
Rather than challenge her, Saunders let his eyes roam over all the faces in the crowd. He placed his hand upon the Colt at his side and nodded solemnly. “You aim to kill me, then?”
“We just want to see justice done to that one behind you,” Mason replied. “We don’t know why you got it into your head to believe that he’s innocent or that he ain’t done no harm to anyone outside of the Lazy V. We just know that we’ve been trying to get you to think straight for days, Vernon. Ever since last spring, you ain’t been the same man that took the job as sheriff. You ain’t been—”
“I ain’t been following your orders to the letter ever since I shot that Mexican fella who turned out to be innocent,” Saunders snapped. “Is that what you mean? Well, I ain’t about to make a mistake like that again and I don’t have to follow your orders. As far as thinking straight is concerned, just because I’m not thinking the same thing as you don’t mean I’m out of my mind. Do you honestly think I’m taking this man away from here to set him loose so he can kill or do anyone harm?”
“No,” Mason said.
“Then you just want to kill him yourselves? How’s that make you any less bloodthirsty than a real murderer?”
Nobody in that crowd was ready to see things from another angle. They weren’t there to bargain or to listen. They were there to shout and get their way by force. Eli could tell as much without having met any of them before. He could read plenty in the angry, blinded stares painted onto the fronts of their heads like frowning portraits emblazoned on wooden dolls.
“We got a job to do as well, Vernon,” Mason said. “Step aside and let us do it.”
“Sorry,” Saunders replied in a clipped tone that made it clear he was just as aware of the situation as Eli. “Can’t do that.”
Mason took a look over his shoulder. For a moment, Eli thought he might be backing down. If that happened, odds were good the rest of the crowd would back right down with him. But when he turned to face the sheriff again, he did so with grim determination in his eyes. “Last chance, Vernon. Hand over the killer and your badge.”
“Or what? Go on, Mason. Say it. I want to hear you say the words.”
“Or…we’ll take them both from you.”
Saunders had been carrying the sack containing Eli’s possessions over his left shoulder. He lowered that arm as well as the sack while squaring his shoulders to face Mason directly. Rather than make a move for his Colt, he reached into the sack, found one of Eli’s .38s, and tossed it to the outlaw. Although Eli was more surprised by the move than anyone else, he caught the pistol and fit it into his grasp.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Mason asked as his eyes widened. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Since I can’t trust anyone that I used to consider my friends and neighbors, I might as well put my faith in the one man here who should back me up.”
“You’re on that killer’s side?”
“If I am, I should be filling you and Daniel there with hot lead right about now, don’t you think?” Saunders dropped the sack and placed the palm of his hand squarely upon the grip of his holstered revolver. “And if that man’s the mad-dog killer you think he is, he should have opened fire by now as well. Ain’t that right?”
“He’s got the good sense to know when he’s outnumbered,” Myra said.
“He was outnumbered at the Lazy V,” Saunders pointed out. “So was that whole gang, but they didn’t stop fighting. Right about now that speaks higher of them than a bunch of whining cowards who need to cluster in a group of a dozen or more to face off with two men. And just look at you,” he continued as if every word put a bad taste in his mouth. “Talkin’ like you want a fight, but shifting on your feet as if you don’t know what to do with yourselves.”
“Don’t look at them,” Mason said. “They’re here because I told them to meet me here if they wanted. They came to show their support.”
“All right, then. You’re the big man. You take the reins. Since that killer you’re so afraid of hasn’t pulled his trigger, I guess it’s up to you.”
Everyone else in the crowd glanced back and forth between the sheriff and Mason. Their allegiances were muddy from the start and became even more so as the seconds ticked away. To show them what they were getting into, Saunders said, “You folks standing around and behind Mason might want to clear a path. If there’s shooting to be done, you won’t want to get in the way of it.”
Mason’s confidence waned for the first time when the crowd around him parted like the Red Sea.
“Sure you want to stick to those guns of yours?” Saunders asked with a smirk. “Seems like your followers aren’t so eager to keep pushing.”
“I’ve only got one gun,” Mason replied evenly. “And it’s all I need.”
“I’ve known you for a good while. Never had you figured as someone to lead a lynch mob.”
“It ain’t a lynching if we’re seeing real justice done.”
“A vigilante, then,” Saunders said. “I met some of them up in Montana. I suppose you could fit that description. Those men are full of talk about justice, but aren’t much different than the animals they hunted.”
“We’re not animals!” Myra shouted. “My son’s dead! That man should be dead too!” With that, she raised her rifle and took aim.
Saunders wasn’t about to be killed, but he also wasn’t about to drop a mourning mother where she stood. He drew his Colt and pointed it downward before pulling his trigger. The pistol barked loudly to kick up a mound of dirt several inches from Myra’s feet. Although that was enough to frighten most of the crowd into scurrying away, she dropped to her knees and let her rifle hit the dirt without letting it go, as if the weapon were heavy enough to anchor her to the earth.
The people in the crowd who hadn’t already cleared away from Mason did so now as if he were sitting atop a keg of dynamite with a lit match in each hand.
“Drop your weapons and go home,” Saunders warned. “This has gone far enough.”
Myra seemed unable to let go of her rifle. Tears streamed down her face and powerful sobs racked her entire body.
Daniel’s fingers flexed around the gun in his hands. All it took was a warning glare from the sheriff for the skinny local to follow his orders to the letter. He let go of his rifle and had already started running away before it hit the ground.
“Hand him over, Vernon,” Mason said. “I’ve come too far to stop now.”
Saunders shook his head. “It’s never too late to do the right thing.”
Some part of that sent a tic through the man’s face. He gnashed his teeth together, shook his head as if refusing to liste
n to the demons whispering in his ears, and brought the shotgun to his shoulder. Eli reflexively dropped to the dirt and covered his head. Saunders wasted no time before sighting along the top of his revolver and squeezing his trigger. The gun bucked against his palm, sending a shock wave through his arm that was barely reflected in his narrowed eyes. Its single round tore through Mason’s elbow, shredding muscle and obliterating the sections of bone it found.
“Damn,” Saunders sighed as he watched the other man fall. “Someone help me get him to the doctor.”
“Knew you were…one of them,” Mason grunted.
Saunders had holstered his Colt and knelt down beside him. “One of who?”
“One of them outlaws!”
“That’s right,” the sheriff said while picking the other man up as best he could without straining Mason’s wounded shoulder. It was a difficult task, especially since the other man seemed content to hang like so much deadweight. “You got me pegged. I’m such a smart outlaw that I stayed here in Seedley where I can bring in just enough pay to live in a shack with a leaky roof and eat beans three nights a week.”
“Ain’t no way to talk your way out of it. You proved where you stand by gunning me down in front of God and everybody.”
“You forced my hand, even after I tried talking to you for so long I nearly lost my voice.”
“Well, you can lose it for all I care. I don’t wanna hear another word you got to say. Not until I see the badge ripped from your chest.”
“Sure, sure. Are you gonna work with me or just dangle until you bleed out?”
Suddenly a portion of Mason’s weight was alleviated and his body became more level. He winced and choked on a pained grunt as Eli took hold of his other arm and draped it across the back of his neck.
“See?” Mason wailed. “Your friend is tryin’ to kill me!”
“I’m just trying to get you to a doctor!” Eli said. “Which way are we headed, Sheriff?”
“See that bridle store across the street? Doc’s office is in the tall, skinny building right beside it.”
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