The Western Justice Trilogy

by Gilbert, Morris

  The water was shallow, and by lifting his feet high, Faye plunged rapidly toward his goal. The goose hit the water and began floundering, swimming away. Faye was breathing hard, but when he came within six feet of the wounded bird, he flew himself forward in a dive, stretching his arms as far as he could, and managed to grab a handful of feathers. The goose struggled, but quickly Faye came to his feet and wrung the bird’s neck. The bird quivered once and then was still. For a moment Faye stood there holding the dead goose, and a feeling of pure joy came to him. “I did it!” he shouted.

  Turning quickly, Faye made his way to the shore then ran at a trot toward the camp he had made. It amounted to little more than a lean-to he had made of saplings cut with his hunting knife and covered with branches with leaves to throw off the worst of the rain. His blanket was in there, and the fire he’d made earlier was blackened. He had, however, made sure that he always had kindling, which meant small pieces of dry wood and larger pieces to make a fire for warmth and for cooking. As he stood in the middle of his small camp, he tossed the goose down and stared at the mare, who lifted her head and considered him.

  “I did it, Patsy!” he shouted again, and his voice echoed through the deep woods. “I killed it, and now I’m going to eat it.”

  Patsy considered Faye seriously then complacently lowered her head and nibbled at the grass at her feet.

  Quickly Faye built up a fire. He had done poorly at keeping his fire at first, but practice makes perfect, and now he kept plenty of dried wood on hand and had learned how to get it started quickly.

  Picking up the goose, he moved out of the way and began pulling the feathers off. It was a difficult business. The feathers closer to the breast were light and easily pulled, but getting the long ones off was a problem. He suddenly grinned and shook his head. “Well, I’ve eaten chickens and turkeys all my life, but never once did I think how they got dressed, cooked, and put on my plate. Now every time I eat a chicken leg, I’ll think about someone having to pluck and cook the thing.”

  Faye spoke aloud, which he had begun doing soon after arriving in the depth of the woods. He had brought two books with him, and at times he would read aloud. One of them was the Bible, and the other was a book of the history of the southwest. The silence of the deep woods had proved to be intimidating, almost ghostly, and Faye had found that even though no one heard him, there was a consolation in the sound of his own voice.

  “Now, how do I cut this fellow up?” He drew his hunting knife and began hacking away at the goose. “Bloody mess, that’s what it is,” he said in disgust. Finally when he had cut small pieces off the bird, he brought a small frying pan out to where the fire was now crackling merrily. He took the parts he had sheared off to the creek, washed them off, and came back. Carefully Faye placed chunks of meat into the pan. “I’m having fried goose for supper, Patsy.”

  Soon Faye discovered that the meat in the frying pan was burning. He turned the pieces over with the point of his knife and stirred in some water. “Hey Patsy, too bad horses don’t eat goose.” He laughed aloud, but his stomach had an ache in it.

  As soon as the meat in the frying pan was half cooked, he stabbed it with his knife and bit off a bite. “Ow, that’s hot!” he yelped. He blew on the meat, and when it was finally cool enough, although it was burned on the outside and half raw on the inside, he bit off small parts of it and chewed them with delight. “I never tasted anything so good,” he murmured.

  He ate slowly, devouring about a quarter of the cooked goose, and saw that the parts in the pan were softened up. “I guess I’d better save something for tomorrow.” A thought came to him, and he gingerly poked through the inner parts of the goose that he had thrown aside. He found what he thought was the liver, pulled it out, and dropped it into the frying pan. When it was brown, he picked it up with his knife and waited until it cooled. Cautiously he tasted it. “Tastes kind of like chicken liver,” he murmured.

  Finally he spoke to the horse. “Guess I’ll clean up, Patsy.” He washed his pan and his knife, wrapped the remains of the goose in a piece of heavy cloth, and then sat down in front of the fire, enjoying the sensations of a full stomach. After a while he grew sleepy. He built up the fire, rolled up in his blanket, and lay down.

  For a while he lay awake listening to the noises of the forest. He heard all kinds of night birds calling, and somewhere a fox was yipping at the moon. “Well, maybe Natty Bumppo could kill a wolf or a bear, but I’ll bet he couldn’t hit a goose on the wing like yours truly.” He felt pleased with himself and quickly fell asleep, for the first time sleeping a dreamless, placid, sweet sleep.

  “Well, girl, about time for us to head for the house.”

  Stepping into the saddle, Faye settled and turned the mare’s nose to the southeast. He spoke to her, and she started out on an easy walk. As they left the camp, he looked back at it. It had been home for him for quite some time. “It makes me feel a little bit sad,” Faye murmured, “but it’s time for other things.”

  The sun was coming up in the east, and as Faye swayed with Patsy’s movement, headed toward civilization and a life he wasn’t sure about, he thought about the time he had spent alone. He remembered how it had taken him two and a half weeks before he hit a squirrel with his .38. That seemed to unlock some sort of ability, for he became a dead shot. He also had learned to shoot rabbits. He had missed the first ten he shot at. They were fast, and he had to learn to shoot slightly ahead of them. As soon as he found this out, he knew that he was going to be all right. He had eaten several rabbits during his stay in the woods.

  He thought of the biggest kill, which had been a four-point buck he had stalked for an entire day. After standing absolutely still within the shadow of a huge tree, the buck had cautiously come out of hiding. Faye had remembered the deerslayer remaining perfectly still, making himself one with the forest. Finally when the buck stepped within twenty feet, he drew his gun with one swift motion. The bullet caught the buck just behind the front leg, killing him instantly. Now Faye smiled as he remembered the difficulty he had had dressing the deer out, but he also remembered how the animal had fed him and how he had learned to cook venison. He thought of other kills he had made, and, as usual, when he thought of the snake, he was disgusted. “Snakes are dangerous. I don’t know why God made them, but they’re not bad eating. Though I wouldn’t want to have snake meat as a steady diet”—he smiled—“it was better than porcupine.”

  All morning Faye rode steadily, crossing a logging road and going past a few cabins. Finally he reached the small town where he had bought Patsy and left for the woods all those weeks ago.

  When he stepped down, the owner came out to greet him. “Well, sir, you came back.”

  “Sure did. Got a favor to ask of you.”

  “What’s that?” The man was instantly on his guard, which caused Faye to smile.

  “Do you know a young girl who could use a mare of her own? Maybe someone too poor to buy her own horse.”

  Instantly a smile came to the lips of the owner of the stable. “I sure do. My niece. She’s just eighteen. She wants to be a schoolteacher. She has to walk four miles to get to school and back. Why you asking?”

  “I’d like for you to give Patsy to her. Will you?”

  “You mean sell her?”

  “No, I mean just give Patsy to her. I can’t take her with me.”

  “Well, mister, I sure will. That’s mighty handsome of you, sir.”

  “What time does the train come through headed southeast?”

  “About noon.” He pulled out a watch about the size of a turnip. “It’ll be about two hours now.”

  “I haven’t had a good meal in a while. Is there any place around here I could get something?”

  “Why, of course you can.” The owner smiled. “You come eat with us. I just killed the finest pig you’ve ever seen. How does fresh pork chops, homemade biscuits, and beans sound?”

  “Like heaven.” Faye grinned. “Lead me to it.” He slapped
Patsy affectionately on the rump, went up, and rubbed her nose. “Thanks for the ride, Patsy.”

  “What about your saddle?

  “Goes with the horse. Give it to the young woman.”

  “Why, she’ll want to thank you.”

  “Not necessary. Just tell her I wish her good fortune with her teaching.”

  Two hours later Faye was sitting in the window of a narrow-gauged railroad passenger car. Cinders came in through the window, and from time to time the whistle made a shrill scream. Faye leaned back, pushed his hat down over his eyes, and wondered, Now I’ve done something, but convincing Mother of the next step won’t be this easy. He thought for a while how he would tell his mother his plan and came up with nothing. Finally the clickety-clack of the wheels lulled him into a slight sleep, and as he slept, he smiled as he headed back toward his life.

  CHAPTER 6

  Eileen was in the kitchen talking to Kate about the following week’s menus when Doris, the downstairs maid, rushed into the kitchen, her eyes wide with excitement. “Mrs. Riordan, it’s Mr. Faye! He’s come home!”

  “Where is he, Doris?”

  “He’s in the foyer looking for you.”

  Eileen rose at once and hurried out of the kitchen. She turned down the wide hallway that divided the big house, and when she saw Faye standing in the foyer she cried, “Faye!” and ran to him.

  He caught her, picked her up, and spun her around. He laughed at her protest then set her down and kissed her cheek. “How’s my best girl?” He smiled.

  “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming? I ought to turn you over my knee and spank you!”

  “You’ve done it before, Mother, but not since I was about six.”

  Eileen was almost weeping for joy. “I’ve missed you so much, Faye. Why didn’t you write?”

  “Well, to be truthful I was a long way from a post office.”

  “Well you shouldn’t have been.” She began to fuss at him to cover her emotions but was studying him carefully. His skin was an even golden tan—something she had never seen before. His hair was long, the clothes he had on were ragged and dirty, and he seemed to have lost weight. There was, however, something new in his expression—the look in his eyes, the set of his lips. Something about him was different. “Well, come into the parlor and sit with me for a while.” After catching him up on news of the family, Eileen asked Faye where he had been.

  “Mother, I wanted to learn how to hunt a little, so I’ve been out in the woods. It was really an interesting experience for me.”

  “Well, I don’t want you going back and doing that again.” He was heartbroken over that woman. Thank God he’s gotten over her!

  Faye got to his feet. “I really need a bath and a change of clothes.”

  “Yes, you go bathe, change clothes, and lie down. Take a nap before supper. Your father and brothers will be glad to see you.”

  As soon as Faye left the room, Doris came back. “He looks like a different man, Mrs. Riordan. My, he’s so tan! He must have been outside a lot.”

  Eileen said, “Go get Kate. She’s out in the garden. We’ve got to have a fine meal tonight to celebrate his homecoming.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’ll do that.”

  Kate did a fine job with the meal. She had fixed a large beef roast with potatoes, carrots, onions, and garlic, but few noticed it.

  Caleb and his sons were shocked at the changes in Faye and told him so. Leo asked, “How did you get so tan, Faye?”

  “Well, as I told Mother, I decided to learn how to hunt a little bit. So I was out in the woods a lot. I just wanted to travel and see the country.”

  “You look like you’ve lost a little weight,” Leo said.

  “I don’t think so. I’m about the same.”

  “Did you get that woman out of your system, brother?” Max smiled.

  Everyone stared at Faye who did not blink. He said, “You know, Kate makes better meals all the time. I haven’t had a meal this good since I left home.”

  It was obvious that he was not about to discuss his personal life. Suddenly he turned to his father and said, “How have things been going at the factory, Dad?”

  Caleb blinked with surprise. Eileen knew he was surprised at their youngest son’s question, as Faye had shown little interest in the factory before. Caleb finally said, “Going well, son.” Hope lit up his face, and he asked, “Are you thinking about coming to work with me and your brothers?”

  “Not just yet, Dad. I’ve got a few things I need to do.”

  They all retired to the large parlor, and Faye talked a little about the country he had seen but not in enough detail to tell them anything. For the rest of the evening, Caleb, Leo, and Max tried to get Faye to say something about his plans, but he simply avoided their inquiries. Finally Caleb said, “Well, it’s about bedtime. I can see we’re not going to get anything out of you, Faye.”

  “I had a good time out there, Dad.”

  “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Will you come to the factory and see what we’ve been doing?”

  “I’ll be glad to.”

  This pleased Caleb, and he left at once along with Leo and Max.

  “You’ve gotten rather closemouthed, Faye,” Eileen said. “You’re not telling a thing about where you’ve been. It’s had us all worried, and I think it’s unfair of you to keep us in the dark.”

  “Mother, I’ll tell you more about it tomorrow. All right? I’m tired now and need to go to bed.”

  Eileen put out her cheek to receive his good-night kiss, the same as they had done for years. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder if she had lost the gentle son she had always known.

  The next morning, Faye rose early and ate breakfast with the family. He promised his father to come to the factory later and lingered at the table drinking coffee while his father and brothers left.

  Eileen got a cup of coffee and sat down beside him. “Now, you’ve got to tell me what you’ve been thinking. You’ve got to tell me where you’ve been.”

  “All right, Mother. This is going to be a shock for you, but I hope you’ll listen carefully until I get through. Then you can ask me anything.”

  “Go ahead, son.” Eileen leaned forward, her lips slightly parted, as Faye began to talk.

  “I had gotten to the point when I realized that I wasn’t everything a man should be.” He saw her start to protest and shook his head. “Just hear me out, Mother. I know my painting is important. Art is important. Many things are important, but I had taken one part of my life and ignored the rest. I think Father and Leo and Max have ignored the opposite parts of themselves, too. They work at the big things in their lives and ignore art, music, drama… things like that.”

  He continued to speak for a long time, and then he finally said, “Well, Mother, you’re not going to like this, but here it is. I’ve been reading about Judge Isaac Parker out in Fort Smith, Arkansas. You know anything about him?”

  “No, I don’t even recognize his name.”

  “Well, he’s a judge in that district. He’s over the Indian Territory in Oklahoma and part of Arkansas. He has two hundred marshals to keep the area protected. Only a federal marshal can go in and settle. It’s become a hideout for bad men. Judge Parker has to send in his marshals to get them. I’ve been studying what they do, and I’ve decided to go to Fort Smith and ask Judge Parker to make me one of his officers.”

  Eileen stared at Faye as if she had not heard him correctly. “You mean to become a marshal?”

  “That’s exactly right, Mother. To become a federal marshal. I want to see if I can be any part of a man, and that’s a good test, I think.”

  Eileen began to speak rapidly, telling him the reasons she could think of why what he had suggested was just a terrible idea.

  He listened carefully and did not interrupt, but finally when she had finished, he said, “Mother, I know you’re worried about me. To tell the truth, I don’t think I’ll ever paint again until I get this out of my system. I’ve got to beco
me a whole man.”

  For quite some time, Eileen argued with Faye, but her pleading didn’t work, and she was terribly disturbed.

  “I hate for you to feel like this, Mother, but this is something I must do.” He rose, went over, and put his arm around her. “Don’t worry, Mother. It may not work at all. I’ve got an idea that the judge has pretty strict standards. I doubt if he’ll have me.”

  “What if he won’t?”

  “Then I’ll come home and do this thing another way. I don’t know how, but I’ll try to get back in the painting mode again.”

  The conversation ended like that. Faye knew his mother was terribly disturbed, but there was nothing he could do about it. I’ll just have to wait a few days until she accepts it.

  Eileen had not mentioned Faye’s plan to her husband or to her sons. For several days, she was unable to do her work. She had difficulty following a train of thought, for all she could think of was her boy hunting a bunch of outlaws and in danger of being killed.

  She had prayed about it for a long time. Every day. And finally she had an idea. It seemed simple enough, so she called Faye to sit with her. They went into the parlor and sat down.

  Faye asked, “What have you decided, Mother? I hope you’ll give me your blessing.”

  “I’ve decided to go along with you on this matter, son, if you’ll promise me one thing.”

  Showing surprise that her surrender came so easily, he said, “What is it, Mother?”

  “I ask that you take any job the judge gives you and stay with it, no matter how low it is, even if it’s washing dishes.”

  Faye was obviously caught off guard. He finally smiled and said, “Why, Mother, I’ll be glad to promise that.”

  “Good, son. Now, we’ll just wait a few days, and then we’ll tell your father about it.”