The outlaws knew when they were licked, and none of them wanted to die. They did what Cobb said.
Within the space of a few minutes, the whole gang was lined up on the floor, sitting with their backs propped against the bar and their hands tied behind their backs, except for the man Cobb had shot. His wound was being tended to by a couple of the women.
"That was mighty quick thinkin' on your part, Mr. Cobb," Tuttle said. "You didn't just drift in from the storm, did you?"
"Matter of fact, I sort of did," Cobb said. "But I'm a Texas Ranger, and all these fellas are under arrest. Once the storm's over I'll take 'em on to Amarillo with me, if I can borrow a wagon to haul 'em in."
"I'm pretty sure that can be arranged," Tuttle said. "I'm puzzled about one thing, though...what was all that racket up on the roof?"
Cobb didn't know, but somehow he wasn't surprised when the saloon doors opened and Pop Edmunds came in, snowflakes swirling around him and a big tow sack slung over his shoulder.
"Howdy, folks!" the old-timer said in a booming voice. "Merry Christmas! Gather 'round! I got presents for one and all!"
"Who in the world...?" Tuttle said.
"A fella who just wants folks to have a good holiday, that's all," Cobb said.
****
He was outside later, standing with a shoulder propped against one of the posts holding up the awning over the front porch, when Edmunds finished unloading the wagon of all its toys and supplies.
Except for one thing that remained under the canvas at the front of the wagonbed.
Edmunds came out of the saloon and started past Cobb, who put out a hand to stop him.
"Where are you goin'?" the Ranger asked.
"Oh, I done what I came to do," Edmunds said. "Everybody's smilin' and happy in there...well, except for those owlhoots, and any misery they're in, they got it comin'."
"There's still something in the back of the wagon," Cobb said with a nod toward the squarish shape under the canvas.
"Well, that's, uh, that's goin' with me."
Cobb scraped a thumbnail along his bristly jawline and said, "Wouldn't happen to be a chest full of outlaw loot, would it?"
"Now, I told you what Deegan did–" Edmunds began.
"And Deegan told me he'd never seen you before today, Pop. Said you weren't a member of his gang and never had been."
"Well, if you want to believe some no-good owlhoot...but I got to tell you, Cobb, it ain't easy providin' Christmas cheer for folks. 'Tain't cheap, neither."
"Maybe not, but that money ought to go back where it came from."
Before either of them could say anything else, the door opened and Tuttle came out onto the porch to say, "Mr. Cobb, the children want to sing 'Silent Night' for you and Mister–Where's he going?"
Cobb had turned to look at Tuttle, but now he jerked back around to see that somehow Edmunds had gotten onto the wagon seat and had the whip in his hand. It popped loudly, and the mules–all eight of them now–lunged ahead without balking at all.
"Dadblast it!" Cobb yelled as the wagon lurched into motion and rattled off along the street. "Come back here!"
"Mr. Cobb, what–" Tuttle began.
Cobb ignored him, ran over to the hitch rack where the dun was tied, and yanked the reins loose. He swung into the saddle, hauled the horse around, and sent it galloping after the wagon and the fleeing old-timer.
Edmunds didn't have much of a lead, but Cobb couldn't see the wagon anymore. He could make out the marks in the snow, though, where the mules had run and the wagon wheels had turned. It wouldn't take him long to catch up.
Those hoofprints and wheel ruts abruptly disappeared less than fifty yards out of the settlement. Cobb reined in, surprised and confused. He dismounted and ran back and forth, searching for the tracks, but they were gone.
Cobb thought he heard the old-timer cackle with laughter somewhere in the distance, but he figured his ears were playing tricks on him.
After a minute he turned, took hold of the dun's reins, and led the horse back toward the settlement. It was no night for chasing phantoms. Not when there was warmth and friendship waiting for him, at least for tonight.
"Merry Christmas, you old coot," he muttered, then kept walking through the snow toward the light.
About the Author—James Reasoner
JAMES REASONER, a lifelong Texan, has been a professional writer for more than thirty years. In that time, he has authored several hundred novels and short stories in numerous genres. Best known for his Westerns, historical novels, and war novels, he is also the author of two mystery novels that have achieved cult classic status, Texas Wind and Dust Devils. Writing under his own name and various pseudonyms, his novels have garnered praise from Publishers Weekly, Booklist, and the Los Angeles Times, as well as appearing on the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists. He lives in a small town in Texas with his wife, award-winning fellow author Livia J. Washburn. www.jamesreasoner.com
More by James Reasoner
Outlaw Ranger
G.W. Braddock was raised to be a Texas Ranger and never wanted anything else. But when he's stripped of his badge through no fault of his own and a corrupt system turns the vicious killer Tull Coleman loose on the people of the Lone Star State, Braddock has to decide if he's going to follow the law—or carry out the job he was born to do, even if it means becoming an outlaw himself!
Never before published, OUTLAW RANGER is the first book in an exciting new Western series by best-selling author and legendary storyteller James Reasoner. Based on actual incidents, this action-packed novel is the stirring tale of a little-known era in Old West history. Rough Edges Press is proud to present this compelling saga of a man haunted by the past and fighting to make a place for himself in the violent world of the Texas frontier.
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