by Paul Green
‘I’m Joe Hardy, deputy sheriff of Johnston, Miss and this here nigger needs teachin’ a lesson.’
Calvert dismounted and went to untie the man. ‘I’d say it’s the people of this town who need the lesson’ he said sharply.
‘Don’t touch that boy!’ cried Hardy. ‘You folks got no call to interfere!’
‘He’s a grown man, not a boy’ said Calvert as he proceeded to untie the victim’s bonds while a jeer went up from the crowd.
As Hardy stepped forward to stop the marshal, Bill leaped down from his horse and stood between them. The deputy sheriff paused as the crowd gathered around him, a hostile murmur running through the people.
‘You’d best give this up, turn around and get outta here’ warned Hardy.
‘You’re a pretty big man with a crowd to back you up’ said Bill as he holstered his gun. ‘Why don’t we just settle this between us?’
The deputy sheriff hesitated, recalling how his whip had been destroyed with a single shot.
‘I tell you what, I’ll make it easy for you’ added Bill. He raised his hands and then clasped them behind his head. ‘Go on, draw.’
There was a brief pause while Hardy considered the offer and then decided. Surely no-one could be that fast? Bill noted the flicker in the man’s eyes and his right hand came down, pulled out his pistol and raised it in one fluid movement. The bullet went straight through Hardy’s heart as the deputy sheriff drew his weapon and he fell dead to the ground. A collective gasp went through the crowd and the people backed away as Bill turned to face them.
‘Does anyone else have any objections?’
The townspeople exchanged uncertain looks but no-one said anything and the crowd began to slowly melt away.
‘Let’s get him into the hotel’ suggested Rachel as she helped Calvert untie the injured man.
‘We don’t allow niggers in there!’ a voice called out.
‘I think, ladies and gentlemen, that we should make an exception on this occasion! After all, things seem to have got a little out of hand, don’t they?’
The words came from a deep, resonant voice that seemed to carry some authority. Bill looked up to see a white haired man in a frock coat leaning out of a window on the top floor of The Southern Cross. ‘I’d like a word with you, sir if I may’.
They carried the groaning, semi-conscious black man into the saloon on the ground floor and laid him face down across two of the tables. Leaving Rachel and Calvert to tend to the victim’s wounds, Bill ascended the stairs and entered the suite of rooms on the top floor.
The white haired man turned from the window to face him and Bill noticed his erect bearing, despite the two sticks he leaned upon. He gestured to a comfortable leather chair in front of his desk. As Bill glanced around the room he noticed that the walls were lined with portraits of bearded men in grey uniforms, one of was General Robert E Lee.
‘I’m Colonel Edward Starr and I have the honour to be mayor of Johnston.’
‘I’m Bill Douglas. If you’re the mayor, why didn’t you put a stop to what was going on out there?’
‘I was just about to try when you showed up.’ Starr lowered himself into his seat, wincing slightly as he did so. ‘You see, Mr Douglas, my power is quite limited as long as a certain Brad Gunter remains sheriff here.’
‘Do you mean to tell me that Brad Gunter represents the law in this town?’ asked Bill incredulously.
The colonel frowned. ‘Do you know him?’
Bill hesitated, unsure how far he could trust Starr. ‘Let’s just say we have a score to settle.’
‘He’ll certainly have one to settle with you now you’ve killed his deputy although it makes things better from my point of view.’
‘How do you figure that?’
Starr leaned forwards to pluck a cigar from the box on his desk and then offered one to Bill who shook his head. The colonel struck a match and then leaned back to puff out a cloud of blue smoke.
‘Brad Gunter controls this town with the aid of a gang of thugs. Hardy was chief among them. Now, if Gunter were to be, shall we say, removed, those men would fall into line and Johnston would become more civilised.’
‘I see. I take it you’d like me to remove Gunter for you?’
The colonel smiled. ‘It seems we understand each other. Now, what would you say to five hundred dollars in return for settling that score of yours on a permanent basis before you and your friends continue on your merry way?’
‘I’d say that sounds very reasonable but I don’t see any sign of Gunter.’
‘That’s because he’s out of town at the moment but he’ll be back in a couple of days. In the meantime, I suggest you and your friends enjoy the hospitality of my hotel, free of charge, of course. Tell the barkeep downstairs that I said to provide you with rooms and board.’
Bill rose from his chair. ‘Well, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Colonel.’
Starr smiled in response. ‘It was very satisfying for me too, Mr Douglas, very satisfying indeed.’
Bill took more notice of his surroundings as he descended the ornate staircase. One wall was adorned with murals depicting confederate battle scenes while the others were expensively papered and the saloon furniture was carved from mahogany. The man they had seen being whipped was now sitting up and Rachel had finished bandaging his wounds.
‘Thanks for what you did’ said the stranger as Bill reached the foot of the staircase. He looked surprised when he was offered an introductory handshake.
‘It’s not usual for a white man to talk to a black man on equal terms in these parts.’
‘You don’t sound as though you’re from these parts.’
The stranger’s finely chiselled ebony features broke into a smile. ‘I guess you can tell by my accent that I’m from New York. The name’s George Robinson.’
‘Mr Robinson is a newspaper man, writing stories about what’s happened to reconstruction since the federal troops left’ explained Calvert.
‘It seems to be a rather dangerous occupation’ observed Bill.
‘Oh, I didn’t get beaten for anything I wrote. These people don’t care what northerners think. I got a whipping for refusing to fetch the late Mr Hardy some water.’
‘Maybe reminding him that slavery’s over wasn’t such a smart move’ said Calvert, caustically.
‘What was I supposed to do, just give in? Somebody’s got to stand up for what’s right’ replied Robinson angrily.
Bill noticed the burly individual behind the bar watching them intently, while pretending to wipe glasses. ‘Maybe this isn’t such a good place to talk.’
‘You’re right. The place gives me the creeps anyway’ said Robinson, glancing around at the barman and the empty saloon. ‘I’ve got a room with a family on the edge of town. If you help me a little, I think I can just about make it.’
Bill gave the barkeep Starr’s message as they left. He replied grudgingly that the rooms would be ready upon their return. No-one bothered them as they helped Robinson to hobble painfully down the main street, turning off at the end down a dirt track which led to a tumbledown house where chickens pecked in the yard. A huge man stood hammering at a forge, his biceps bulging as the sweat trickled down features that were set in a firm line, as if carved out of teak.
The blacksmith turned with alarm to face them and looked suspiciously at Robinson’s companions.
‘It’s all right Ezra, these people are friends. They saved me from a worse beating than the one I’ve had.’
The blacksmith nodded and ushered them inside where a woman stood cooking at a stove. Her hand flew up to her mouth as she stifled a cry of alarm when they entered before she quickly hustled the two young boys with her into another room before closing the door.
‘Lord have mercy, I don’t want them to see what’s happened to you George. There’ll be time enough for them to learn what sort of place the world is when they’re older.’
‘I tell you, they’ve learned alr
eady since that damned Colonel Starr closed their school. He don’t want no black children figurin’ how to read and write, that’s for sure’ replied her husband. ‘I’m Ezra Blaine and this here is my wife, Mabel’ he added by way of introduction.
Robinson sank into a chair at the kitchen table and briefly explained what had happened as he introduced his companions.
‘What have you managed to find out while you’ve been here?’ asked Bill.
‘Some white southern democrats have banded together and formed so-called citizens’ parties and militias like the White League to overturn reconstruction. They terrorise moderate democrats, republicans and any members of our race who try to exercise their rights. They fix elections, burn people’s houses and even murder those who oppose them.’
‘What about in Johnston itself?’
‘Pretty much the same thing’ said Robinson with a shrug. ‘That’s how Starr and his friends managed to take over except the colonel likes to pretend he’s civilised and get others to do the dirty work. He just looks the other way.’
‘Why would Starr want Brad Gunter dead?’ asked Bill. ‘The colonel just offered me five hundred dollars to kill him’ he added in response to their startled looks.
‘Perhaps it’s some sort of power struggle. They could be fighting over who really controls things here’ suggested Rachel.
‘That makes sense’ said Robinson. ‘Those two have been hand in glove up to now, so far as I can tell. Maybe Colonel Starr thinks that Gunter’s become too big for his boots.’
‘The thing I don’t get is why Starr’s been spendin’ so much cash on that big, fancy hotel o’ his’ cut in Ezra. ‘Hardly anybody passes through here most o’ the time but some folks from Louisiana and Mexico turned up not long since.’
‘Then it all fits’ announced Calvert decisively. ‘What would you say if I told you all that Brad Gunter has been involved in three major bank robberies in the past year, stealing hundreds of thousands of dollars?’
‘It would explain where the money for the hotel came from but what’s happened to the rest of it?’ said Robinson.
‘That’s what I want to know. If Gunter had just stolen that money for himself he’d be living it up in Mexico but he got away with enough to feed an army’ replied Calvert.
Suddenly Bill stood up. ‘That’s it!’ he cried. ‘They’re raising an army. When I was with Starr I noticed that his walls were hung with pictures of confederate generals and didn’t you see that mural downstairs?’
‘By God, I think you’re right!’ declared Robinson. ‘What’s happened in Johnston and in other towns across the south and south west is just the beginning as far as Starr’s concerned. He’s going to re-start the civil war!’
Chapter Five
There was silence for a few moments before Ezra spoke. ‘The question is, what are us folks gonna do about it? Now, it seems to me that Colonel Starr will be like a crab without a shell once he gets rid o’ Gunter. He’ll need another strong man to replace him so maybe Mr Douglas here could do that and get to learn more about his plans.’
‘What do you think, Bill? It might be dangerous’ warned Calvert.
‘I’ll have to convince Starr to hire me but I think I can do that. After all, we don’t need Gunter alive now it’s clear that the colonel’s behind everything.’
‘Yeah, Starr will know where the money is. How are you going to play it with Gunter?’
‘I won’t give him the same chance I allowed Hardy. I’ll just draw.’
‘That figures’ replied Calvert. ‘It’ll save the cost of a trial and a rope.’
They spent the next two days resting at the hotel while Robinson recovered at Ezra and Mabel’s home. The blacksmith was left alone by the townspeople, despite sheltering their enemy, since his skills were called upon by everyone at some time or another. The other members of Gunter’s gang skulked in the saloon, angered by the shooting of their friend, Hardy. However, none of them dared to challenge Bill, especially since Colonel Starr appeared to have some use for him.
Meanwhile, Brad Gunter was lying stretched out on satin sheets in the bedroom of the house he had bought in San Antonio. The blonde woman beside him snuggled closer and asked him what he was thinking. Gunter always hated it when she did that.
‘I don’t know, nothing much. Look, honey, why don’t you go make some coffee?’
Marlene Angel slipped reluctantly from the bed and slipped a robe over her naked body. She hoped that Brad would treat her with more respect and stop ordering her around so much once they were married.
‘Are we really going to be rich like you said, Brad?’ she called out as she busied herself at the stove.
‘I said so didn’t I?’
‘Where are you going to get the money from?’ she asked as she fetched him his coffee.
‘You don’t need to worry about that. The less you know the better.’
‘I’m not dumb, Brad. Maybe I can help out’ she protested.
‘Sure you can, honey. You just do like I tell you and everything will be fine.’
‘What if something goes wrong? What if you get caught doing whatever it is you’re going to do?’
Brad nodded as he sipped his coffee. ‘I’ve thought of that. Now, here’s what I want you to do...’
Marlene listened carefully as her lover went through his instructions and then repeated them after him.
‘So if you’re caught and I do all this they’ll have to let you go. Is that it?’
‘Yeah, that’s it.’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t understand any of this.’
Gunter cupped her face in his large hands. ‘You don’t need to understand. Just trust me and everything will be fine.’
At that moment there was a knock at the door. ‘Go answer that.’
When Marlene went to see who it was, she found Nino Alvarez standing on the threshold. She gathered her robe more tightly around her while he stared lasciviously at her breasts. She did not like the ferret faced Mexican one bit but put up with him for Brad’s sake.
‘Is the boss here?’ he asked her.
She stood aside to let him pass and he went straight to the bedroom.
‘I thought I’d find you in here’ he remarked as he looked at Gunter sitting up in bed.
‘Is everything ready?’ his boss asked.
‘Sure, the boys are waiting for you over the border.’
Gunter threw the sheets aside and began to get dressed. ‘Good. Now, I’ve just been telling Marlene what to do if anything goes wrong. I want you in El Paso in case she needs to make contact.’
Alvarez shot him a look of alarm. ‘How much have you told her?’
Gunter kicked the door so that it closed. ‘Relax, she’s just a courier. I haven’t told her anything.’ He finished dressing and put on his gun belt.
‘I thought you were going to stay the night’ said Marlene plaintively when he emerged from the bedroom.
‘I’m sorry, I’ve got some business to attend to but soon we can be together all the time.’
‘Do you promise?’
‘Sure, Brad Gunter always keeps his promises.’ He kissed her quickly and hurried outside, closely followed by Alvarez.
Marlene watched from the doorway as both men rode away. She knew perfectly well that Brad did not keep all his promises but this was one she intended to hold him to.
Gunter arrived back in Johnston at noon on three days later but he did not come alone. There were fifty riders with him, all Mexican, each man proud and straight backed in the saddle. Starr appeared at his window as they drew to a halt in the centre of town.
‘What’s the meaning of this? Who are these men?’ he demanded.
Gunter turned in the saddle and gave a mock salute. ‘These men, Colonel, once fought for the Emperor Maximilian. I have personally recruited each one to our cause and now they will fight for the south.’
‘I did not authorise you to do this! It’s highly irregular and completely at odds wit
h our plans!’
‘Your plans, Colonel, not mine’ replied Gunter. Then he turned to the assembled townspeople who were looking at the new arrivals with fear and mistrust.
‘Listen up folks. These men are our friends, ready to die for the good old cause. They won’t harm anyone except niggers who get above themselves and damned Yankees. Hooray for Dixie! Hooray for the south!’
The mood changed and a shout went up from the crowd, men throwing their hats up in the air as they gathered around to greet the new arrivals. Starr’s furious protests were drowned out by the sounds of cheering and clapping.
Bill rose up from his seat in the saloon and began walking towards the door.
‘Where are you going?’ asked Rachel in alarm.
‘To face Gunter, like I said I would.’
‘That’s madness!’ protested Calvert. ‘Have you seen how many men he’s got out there?’
‘I’m going to challenge him and if he won’t draw against me in a fair fight, he’ll just be shown up as a coward. That’s what I’m counting on.’
‘If that varmint’s pride is all you’re relying on then your life ain’t worth a spit’ said Calvert, pointing at him with the stem of his pipe.
‘Troy’s right. Please, Bill, don’t go out there’ urged Rachel, pulling at his arm.
‘I’ll have to face Gunter sooner or later so maybe it’s better now, when he has more to lose.’
Then he turned and headed for the door while Calvert watched intently, puffing on his pipe.
‘Aren’t you going to stop him?’ asked Rachel.
‘There’s no talking him out of it. Besides, he can’t avoid Gunter forever and maybe his hunch is right.’
Rachel watched helplessly as Bill strode out into the dusty street and stood squarely in front of Gunter’s horse.
‘Surprised to see me, Brad?’ he asked, mockingly.
Gunter stared at him in disbelief, the colour draining from his face but quickly recovered his composure.
‘It looks like you stayed lucky after all, kid. What do you want?’
‘I thought we might finish our fight. I killed your friend, Hardy the other day and now I’m going to kill you. Just draw whenever you’re ready.’
