by Al Lacy
The same man looked at Buck and Doke with a smile. “You gentlemen going to join us across the street?”
“We sure are,” replied Buck. “You all go ahead. We have to let our agent know we’re here, in case he hasn’t seen us. Doke and I will be with you shortly.”
The group of four men and two women hurried across the street between traffic while Buck told Doke to wait there; he would be right back. Buck dashed into the office, greeted the agent, and advised him that all was well.
While Buck was in the office, Doke stood at the edge of the street, looking first to the north, then to the south. Suddenly he caught sight of a man standing in the shade of the boardwalk’s slanted roof, waving his hat and motioning to him. Doke focused on him.
It was Tag Moran!
Doke nodded to Tag that he saw him, then heard Buck coming out of the office.
Buck drew up beside him. “Okay, hungry man, let’s get over there where the food is!”
Doke noticed Tag step back between two buildings. “Ah … tell you what, Buck,” he said gesturing southward. “I just saw somebody I know down there a ways. I really should at least go say howdy. You go on, and I’ll be there in a few minutes. Order me a sixteen-ounce steak medium well with all the trimmings.”
Buck glanced the direction Doke had pointed, seeing people moving up and down the boardwalk. “Okay. Medium well. Coffee black and steaming hot.”
“You got it.”
As Buck weaved his way between vehicles and riders on horseback toward the café, Doke stepped into the street so he could hurry toward Tag without interruption. Tag moved back into sight and waved.
When Doke reached him, he excused himself as he crossed the boardwalk in front of an elderly couple, and joined Tag between the buildings.
Smiling, Doke said, “I didn’t expect to see you, Tag.”
“I had to find out about Darryl.”
Doke felt the mask of gloom come over his face. “He—he didn’t make it, Tag. I’m sorry.”
Tag’s features slacked. “He’s dead?”
“Yeah. I talked to Buck Cummons, my driver, into letting me take Darryl’s horse and hurry him to the nearest doctor, which was in Cheyenne.”
Tag nodded silently, pain showing in his eyes.
“I asked on the street in Cheyenne which doctor I should take my wounded friend to, and they told me about a father-son practice, so I went there. The father wasn’t there, but the son, Dr. Dane Logan, was in the office. Darryl died shortly after the doctor went to work on him.”
Tag’s jaw stiffened. “You didn’t tell that doc Darryl was an outlaw, did you?”
“I had to, Tag. With that slug in his back, the doctor wanted to know how it happened. My face is known in Cheyenne from being on the stage that stops there. I didn’t dare lie about it, so I told him, explaining that I was the shotgunner on the stage, but I didn’t let on that I knew Darryl.”
Tag’s cheeks were now dead white and his eyes had turned the color of slate. “Maybe that doc let Darryl die because he was an outlaw.”
“Oh no, Tag. Darryl was almost dead when I carried him into Dr. Logan’s office. He had lost a lot of blood. The doctor was starting to dig the slug out when Darryl died.”
Tag ground his teeth, wondering if the doctor was really putting on an act by starting to go after the slug, and would have let Darryl die in order to rid the world of one more outlaw.
But he said no more.
Tag let the sadness he felt over Darryl’s death surface. “Well, thank you, Doke, for trying to save my baby brother’s life.”
Doke laid a hand on Tag’s shoulder. “May I remind you of that day when you dived into the dangerous North Platte River and risked your life to save mine?”
A smile tugged at the corners of Tag’s mouth, and he nodded.
Squeezing his shoulder, Doke said, “Tag, I owe you for that. I’ll never forget it. It was for you that I tried to save Darryl’s life.”
Though Tag Moran’s two years as an outlaw had hardened him a great deal, a soft look came into his eyes. He blinked at the tears that had welled up. “Thanks again, Doke, for trying to save Darryl.”
“I’d do it again.”
Tag’s earlier thoughts concerning his desire to bring Doke into play came to mind. “I know you would. Doke, ol’ pal, I imagine you don’t approve of me and my brothers being outlaws, but you would never turn us into the law if you had a chance, would you?”
Doke chuckled dryly. “Absolutely not. My debt to you for saving my life will always be at the forefront of my mind. I would never do anything to help the law catch you.”
Tag smiled. “I believe you, ol’ pal. I was really surprised when I saw you up on the seat of that stagecoach. I had no idea you were employed as a shotgunner for Wells Fargo. I had lost all track of you. Are you married?”
“No. I live in Fort Collins and have dated some nice girls, but nothing serious has developed yet. How about you? Is there a Mrs. Tag Moran?”
“No.”
“Was Darryl married?”
“No.”
“How about your other brothers?”
“The only one that’s married is Bart. Doke, I’d like to have a talk with you. I suppose you’re in a hurry right now?”
“Well, yeah. Buck’s expecting me at the Meadowlark Café right away. The stage is supposed to leave in just under an hour.”
“Well, listen. I’d like to have you come to our hideout so we could talk. You said you live in Fort Collins.”
“Yes.”
“Well, our hideout is in the mountains about thirty miles west of Fort Collins. It’s a large old cabin situated close to the Cache La Poudre River high in the Rockies. It’s at ten thousand five hundred feet above sea level, hidden in dense forest. If I drew you a map, would you come and see me sometime soon so we could talk?”
“Sure. I’d like that.”
Tag grinned, took a slip of paper out of a shirt pocket and a pencil out of a pants pocket. Holding the paper against the clapboard wall of the closest building, he began drawing a map. “Here’s how it works, Doke. Me and my boys make plans to hold up four or five banks somewhere in Colorado, Wyoming, or Nebraska. Of course, in a particular area. When we’ve held up the banks as planned, we head back to the hideout. We always use roundabout routes to get to the cabin to throw off the posses. Then we stay at the cabin for a few weeks to let things cool down. I’d sure like to have you come so we can have a good talk.”
Doke nodded. “I’ll do that as soon as I can get a few days off.”
Tag finished the map and held it in his hand. “I realize there’s no way to contact me to let me know just when that might be, so you’ll just have to ride on up. Even if me and the boys happen to be gone on another bank-robbing spree when you arrive, Bart’s wife, Lucinda, will be there. One of the other two that you saw when we robbed you is Gib Tully. His wife, Kathryn, will also be there. Once a month or so, Kathryn and Lucinda take the wagon into Fort Collins to buy food and supplies. No one in Fort Collins knows who they are, so they don’t know they’re outlaws’ wives. They always make the trip to Fort Collins and back within about half a day. If we’re not at the cabin when you arrive, the gals can tell you when they expect us back. Since we stay at the cabin more than we travel and hit banks, your chances of finding us there are good.”
“All right. I’ll sure come as soon as I can.”
“Let me show you the map.”
When Tag had gone over the map with Doke to make sure he understood how to find the cabin, he handed the map to him.
Doke folded the paper and placed it in his shirt pocket. “I’ll sure come as soon as I can,” he repeated. “Well, I’d better get over there to the café before Buck comes looking for me.”
Tag Moran stood at the corner of the building and watched his old friend head for the Meadowlark Café. When Doke entered the café, Tag wheeled and dashed between the buildings to the alley, where he had his horse tied. He rode south out of
town and headed for the patch of forest just outside of Chugwater, where he and the gang had waited to rob the stage the day before.
In the shade of the trees at the patch of forest, Bart Moran was pacing impatiently while the others sat on the ground, their backs resting against the trees.
Jason looked up at his brother and shook his head. “Bart, you’re a worrywart. If Tag doesn’t find Doke in Wheatland, he’ll come on back and let us know.”
Bart sighed and nodded. “Yeah, that’s the plan. But seems to me he’s had time to make his contact and get back here. I—”
“Hey!” blurted Tony Chacone, jumping to his feet and pointing north. “Here he comes now!”
Jason and Gib quickly rose to their feet, and all four were standing in a row as Tag rode in. They didn’t like the pallor of his face nor the look in his eyes.
Tag dismounted before them. “I was able to make contact with Doke in Wheatland, boys. I was right about him. He had taken Darryl to a doctor in Cheyenne on Darryl’s own horse to save his life. But—but—” His eyes filled with tears, and he choked as he added, “Darryl’s dead. He died shortly after Doke got him to the doctor’s office.”
Jason burst into tears, burying his face in his hands. Bart put an arm around him, struggling with his own emotions. Tag joined them and they wept together. While they were weeping, both Tony and Gib spoke their condolences.
When the Moran brothers had gained control of their emotions, Tag took a deep breath. “Fellas, Doke told me that doc in Cheyenne pressed him about Darryl’s having the bullet in his back and wanted to know the details. Doke said because his face is known in Cheyenne, since the stage stops there every few days, he had to tell him the truth so as not to get himself in trouble. So he explained to the doc about the holdup, and Darryl getting shot when we were riding away. He didn’t let on that he knew Darryl, of course. So the doc did find out that Darryl was an outlaw.”
“I guess we can’t blame Doke for telling the truth,” said Bart. “At least he sure tried to save Darryl’s life.”
“Yes,” said Tag. “But I’ve got a feeling that doctor in Cheyenne might just have let Darryl die because he was an outlaw.”
“You really think he’d do that?” queried Tony.
“Why not? If he let Darryl die, that would be one less outlaw in the West.”
There was dead silence for a moment, then Gib said, “You know, Tag, you may be right. What’s that doc’s name?”
“Dane Logan.”
Jason swung a fist through the air. “Well, if Logan did let Darryl die because he was an outlaw, he oughtta be strung up on one of these trees!”
“There ain’t never gonna be any way to prove that,” said Bart.
Tag brushed the back of his hand across his nose. “No, but if we could prove it, I’d be the guy to put the noose around his neck.”
There was another silent moment, then Jason turned to Tag. “So we’re going to the hideout, aren’t we?”
“We sure are. With the money we have from the last five banks we robbed, along with the fifty thousand we got off the stage, we’ll take a few extra days off. I hate to have to go and tell Lucinda and Kathryn that Darryl got killed, but they have to know. It’ll help, though, when I can also tell them about the big money we have from the stage robbery to fatten up the kitty, as well as stuff our pockets for living expenses. We’ll take an extra couple of weeks off to let things cool down with the law.”
Tony headed toward his horse. “Well, then, let’s get going.”
As the others moved toward their mounts, Tag said, “While we’re riding, fellas, I want to tell you about something I have in mind to talk to Doke about. He’s gonna come to the hideout soon so he and I can talk.”
Bart swung into his saddle and set his red-rimmed eyes on Tag. “You told Doke how to find the hideout?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Are you sure you can trust him? I mean, if he knows where we’re hiding, he could bring the law on us if he decided to do it.”
“Nothing to worry about, Bart. I asked him if he would ever turn us over to the law. He said no. That because I saved his life that day at the North Platte River, he would never do anything to help the law catch us. And I believe him. He’s a true friend.”
“I feel the same way,” said Jason. “After all, he didn’t have to go to all the trouble he did to try to save Darryl’s life.”
The others agreed that Doke could be trusted, and they rode out of the patch of forest, heading south.
The following afternoon at the gang’s cabin high in the Rocky Mountains, Lucinda Moran stood on the front porch with a hand on Kathryn Tully’s shoulder. Kathryn was seated on a wooden chair.
“Honey,” said Lucinda, “you’re fretting over nothing.”
Kathryn sniffed and wiped tears. “I hope you’re right, but they should have been back by now. I’m just afraid something has happened to them.”
“You’ve got to get a grip on yourself. It’ll be all right. Tag said they had some really good banks to hit this time. Maybe they had to take special care in just when they hit each bank and needed more time than they had planned.”
Kathryn patted Lucinda’s hand. “I hope you’re right. I hope they did extra well so it will put us a lot closer to the day when we can all head for California and leave this outlaw life behind forever.”
Lucinda let her eyes trail a bald eagle that was circling above the towering pine trees that surrounded the cabin. “Honey, even if they did extra well, you have to realize it’s going to be a few more years before each man in the gang has a quarter of a million dollars. You know this is Tag’s goal, and he’s not going to change his mind. You must learn to be patient.”
“I know you’re right, Lucinda. Patience isn’t my long suit. But—but if I had known back when I married Gib that he would choose to be an outlaw, I would never have married him. This just isn’t the plan I had for my life. I don’t need a quarter of a million dollars to be happy. A small house and a husband with an honest job is all I want. I don’t care how hard we might have to work. It would be far better to have just enough money to live on than to have large sums of ill-gotten gain.”
Tears continued to fill Kathryn’s emerald green eyes and to trickle down her cheeks.
“But the big money is Gib’s dream too, Kathryn. You’re his wife, so you’re in it now and you’ll just have to make the best of it.”
Kathryn sniffed and wiped tears. “Yes, you’re right about that. But it’s so hard to live this way. Every time Gib rides away for another series of bank robberies, I never know if I’ll ever see him again. Not only that, but if my family back home knew that I was now the wife of an outlaw, they would be so ashamed of me.”
Lucinda leaned over, put an arm around her neck and hugged her tight. “I understand how you feel, honey, but this is the life both of our husbands have chosen, so we’ll just have to live with it.”
At that moment, they heard horses blowing. Kathryn rose from the chair, and they both moved to the porch railing, searching among the dense forest for sign of movement.
Kathryn’s heart was beating wildly.
Soon they saw horses and riders weaving their way among the trees. Kathryn’s line of sight focused on the face of her husband. “Oh, Gib’s all right,” she said with elation. “He’s home again. And Bart’s home safe, Lucinda.”
“Yes,” said Lucinda, a smile spreading over her face.
Kathryn frowned as she ran her eyes over the other riders. “Something’s wrong. There are only five of them. Darryl’s not with them.”
“I see that,” said Lucinda. “I—I hope nothing has happened to him.”
In her heart, Kathryn was grateful that the missing man was not Gib. A tingle of fear and dread went through her at the thought that one day it could be Gib who didn’t come home.
When the five riders drew up to the porch and started dismounting, Kathryn dashed off the porch and ran to Gib. Lucinda followed and made a beeline to Bart
.
While the two women were embracing their husbands, Kathryn asked of the group, “Where’s Darryl?”
Tag said, “Let’s go sit down on the porch and we’ll tell you about Darryl.”
When they were all seated on the wooden chairs on the porch with Kathryn and Lucinda holding their husbands’ hands, Tag choked up as he announced to the women that Darryl had been killed when they robbed a stagecoach two days ago in Wyoming. He told the story of the robbery and Darryl’s death in detail, including why they had to ride away, leaving Darryl on the ground with a bullet in his back.
Tag went on to tell the women about Doke Veatch, their old friend from childhood being the shotgunner on the stage, and how he told the rest of the gang as they rode away that he was sure Doke would pick Darryl up and take him to a doctor. He then explained about his meeting Doke in Wheatland yesterday morning and learning that he had taken Darryl to a doctor in Cheyenne, but that Darryl had died shortly after they arrived at the doctor’s office.
When the impact of the bad news had eased, Tag went to his horse, took the metal money box from where it was tied to the saddlebag, and showed the women the fifty thousand dollars. He went on to explain how he learned the large sum of money would be on the stage, and how they had forced the stage to stop so they could rob it.
Lucinda showed more pleasure as she observed the fifty thousand dollars than did Kathryn.
Tag went on to tell the women that the bank robberies on this trip garnered them over twenty thousand dollars. He went on to say that of course they would have to put some of the money in their pockets, but still, a good amount could be added to the kitty, along with the fifty thousand dollars.
Tag then wiped the tears from his eyes. “Since Darryl is gone, and the money is going to be split five ways instead of six, we’ll reach our goal even sooner.”
Still holding onto Gib’s hand, Kathryn said, “What happened to Darryl could happen to any one of you next time you pull a robbery. I would rather have less luxury and have my husband. Tag, with what has happened to Darryl, I think you should set your sights lower. Please … isn’t what we already have in the kitty plus this money enough for us? We don’t have to live like kings and queens. Let’s take what we have and go to California, leave the outlaw life forever, and make do with what we have.”
