Black pulled his watch. "Quarter past ten."
Lovell set the piece and slipped the watch into his vest pocket. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled his deputy U.S. marshal's badge. He pinned it just outside his left vest lapel.
Black studied Lovell carefully. He noticed that Lovell straightened and changed his demeanor once the badge was on. An air of pride seemed to come over him—not a boastful kind of pride but rather the kind of pride a man has when he knows his job, does it well, and knows he does it well. "There's a lot of accountability pinned with that badge," he said, curious to hear Lovell's response.
Lovell nodded and looked down at the badge. "I've seen seven men—seven good men die wearing it. One for each year I've served as a marshal. Out there in the Indian Territory, we're often the only legal authority there is—all that stands between justice and anarchy. I came real close to being number eight and I don't like that one damned bit."
Black nodded. He admired Lovell even though he felt threatened by him. He could see why Bonny was so infatuated with him. He was solid and there was much more to him than just pretense or empty words. "I wish you luck."
Lovell gathered his ammunition and the Winchester. "Same to you." He walked out the door.
Black sat at his desk and considered the man he had just met. He settled back in his chair and sighed. "I'm going to lose her. I don't have a chance." He went to the window and watched Lovell packing his goods into his saddlebags. "Damn you, Lovell," he said to himself. "How do I compete against an apparition?" He smiled. "A specter who doesn't even realize his role in this drama?"
Chapter 12
Bass Reeves, Pete Syle and Ned Bells were saddling their horses when Lovell rode into the clearing. Syle shook his head when he recognized Lovell's condition. "Damn, you look like hell. What happened?"
"I had a run-in with Chauncy Lightfoot. He jumped me in camp."
"Is he dead?"
"No, he got away."
"He ought to be," Bass Reeves said.
"He will be. Make no mistake about that."
"We were getting ready to go looking for you," Pete Syle said. "What did you learn at Black Fork?"
Lovell eased himself down from his black. "Not too much except that Rance Banford is down there. Nodine has a Cherokee gal nearby that he visits on occasion but he wasn't there when I checked the place out. I was going to ride to you but got sidetracked by Chauncy."
Bass nodded. "So, that's where they went. I went to check them out and the place was empty."
Lovell turned to Syle. "Did you learn anything?"
"Not squat. Our only lead left is back at Black Fork. We figured it was getting hot for you down there and that's why you were late."
"There's a problem with the horse deal," Lovell said. "I don't understand why Nodine would want anything to do with a bunch of burned out Army rejects. I got the impression that Banford was exaggerating the whole thing."
Syle smiled. "It wouldn't be the first time. Still, if Banford is at Black Fork there's something to it and I've got no other credible leads other than the Cherokee. It all leads back to Black Fork."
Lovell turned to Bass. "What about you?"
Bass looked sheepish. "The locals don't know anything. I talked to Banford's woman but got nowhere with her other than a friendly midnight visit."
"Midnight visit?" Lovell asked, quickly suspecting it to be the same as his.
"She came to the cabin in the middle of the night and paid me a visit. I thought she was going to ask for money but she didn't. She's a strange one."
Lovell hesitated. He felt like he had been kicked in the guts again.
Syle chuckled. "I guess me and old Bass got more in common than I thought. She did the same with me during a stay here about six months ago. Came into my blankets in the loft, did me a favor and left without another word. Hell, I thought she liked me but I guess she likes everybody."
Lovell was angry but tried not to let it show. He decided to turn it into a joke. "And I get the shit kicked out of me. Where is the justice in that?"
Syle smiled. "Well, hell, Don. You can wait here while we ride down to Black Fork. Maybe she'll show up while we're gone and do you a favor. You look like you could use a tender touch."
The men laughed at his joke.
Lovell shook his head. "Don't need any of that. I'll ride with you boys if it's just the same. Besides after she's been with Bass and that thing between his legs, I'd be a disappointing show."
"Suit yourself," Pete chuckled. "We'll be ready to ride directly."
Lovell checked the cinch on his saddle. "What did you expect?" he thought to himself. "What in the hell made you think you were so special? Just like a woman like that. When are you going to learn?"
* * * *
They rode hard for Black Fork. Syle was afraid that Nodine's gang was there and suspected that Lovell's beating might be just a way of getting a marshal out of his way. They decided that they would take a chance and swing by Lucky Lucy's place on the way down in case they might catch Nodine literally with his pants down. When they neared the location of Lovell's beating they went to check out Leah Walsh's campsite. Lovell told the others that he had seen her camped there and had spoken to her. He did not volunteer any other information. When they arrived they found the camp abandoned and left immediately.
Lucy was alone at her house with no signs of Nodine or anyone else being present. Without waiting they rode on to Black Fork. Things were much different there. When they arrived Tom Duncan and his whores were standing over the bodies of Rance Banford and Too-Tall Mitchell in front of Mitchell's corral.
"What happened?" Pete Syle asked as they dismounted.
Tom shook his head. "I wasn't here. Gracie saw it all."
They turned to her. "There were four of them. Mr. Mitchell had bought a bunch of horses just yesterday. They rode in this morning and just shot him right in front of the store. When this one got off his horse to open the gate, they shot him in the back. Then one of them ran into the store and grabbed his cash box. The others drove off the horses and they rode away."
"Banford was riding with them?" Lovell asked.
Gracie nodded.
"Was it Trace Nodine?" Syle asked.
"Yes, it was."
"Who else?"
"I don't know."
"Which way did they go?"
She pointed to the north.
"How did we miss them?" Lovell asked Syle.
"They took a different trail. They're heading for the Osage Hills using the robber's road."
Lovell shook his head. He turned to Tom. "How good were those horses?"
"I've never seen better."
"Were they Army?"
"No, sir. There wasn't an Army brand among them."
"How many?"
"I don't know. At least thirty, maybe forty."
Lovell turned away and looked down at Mitchell. "That lying sack of shit. Well, I warned him."
Syle started for his horse. "They've got four, maybe five, hours on us and they'll leave a trail that even I can follow. Let's ride."
Lovell realized that Banford had taken Leah's wagon horses with him. He turned back to Tom Duncan. "Was Banford here at all before this?"
"Months ago. I haven't seen him since."
Lovell turned to Gracie. "Did any of them have a withered arm?"
She shook her head. "I didn't see. Two of them never got off their horses. It happened so fast and I hid in the outhouse. Tom and Delta were fishing."
Lovell mounted and swung his horse beside Syle's. "I want to check out Leah Walsh's campsite one more time. Something's not right but I can't put my finger on it."
"Alright, but don't dawdle. I want all four of us together when we catch up with them."
"I just want to see if the wagon tracks join up with the stolen horses."
"What are you thinking?"
"I don't know. Either she lied to me, or she left before this happened, or she was taken with them."
Lovell nodded. "I know. I can't figure this out."
"You worried about the woman?" Syle asked.
"No, I don't give a damn about her. It's them kids."
"You gonna bury them?" Syle asked Duncan.
Duncan shrugged. "I guess so. Flies'll be bad if I don't."
Syle nodded and spurred his horse into pursuit. The other marshals followed. They galloped back to the campsite following the robber's road. When they arrived, Lovell motioned to Ned Bells. "Read the sign. Tell me what you see."
Ned dismounted and carefully walked through the camp. He pointed as he explained the sign. "Three of them rode in here. They dismounted and hitched the team. There was a struggle. Looks like a woman's track. Two others were with her. Children. They were all loaded in the wagon. The wagon heads back to the horse herd."
"I was afraid of that," Lovell said. "They took her."
"Why?" Pete Syle asked.
"Why do you think?" Lovell asked brusquely. "They don't know there are four marshals hot on their trail. They're planning on using the woman tonight, maybe the girl. I believe they'll kill them then."
"That sounds like Nodine," Bass Reeves said.
"Does for a fact," Syle said. "Mount up, boys. Times a wasting."
They remounted and followed at a gallop, opening up in the open then slowing in the trees, trying not to play out their horses. Toward sundown they came upon the wagon off the trail and at the bottom of a slope. There was no sign of a campfire. They dismounted and searched the area.
Ned Bells shook his head. "They did the women here on the ground next to the wagon. There's the sign. Laid them down side by side and took turns."
"You sure?" Lovell asked.
Ned looked up. His face said it all.
"There's blood in the wagon," Bass Reeves said. "Lot's of it."
Ned Bells followed sign into the trees. Minutes later he returned. "I found a sink hole under a bank of rocks. They threw them in there."
Lovell felt a tug in his stomach. He felt like he could vomit.
They followed Ned to the hole. Syle peered down into the darkness. "It's deep. Somebody get a rope."
Moments later, Bass Reeves returned with his lariat and a lantern from the wagon.
"Who's going down?" Syle asked.
Lovell looked at his hand. "I can't do it."
"I'll do it," Bass Reeves said.
They tied on to a tree and Bass lowered himself, clinging precariously to the lantern. Moments later he yelled. He quickly crawled back up the rope. He was badly shaken. "Damn thing is full of rattlers. Hell, they're all along the sides in the ledges. I don't know how many of the damn things are in there."
"We've got to check," Lovell said. "One of them might be alive."
"I know. I know," Bass said as he gasped for breath. He shook his head, and tried to settle himself. "Get another lariat. You're going to have to lower the lantern beside me. I want to be able to pull my pistol if I have to."
Syle nodded and motioned for Ned Bells to get another rope. "See if there are any more lanterns while you're down there," he told Ned. "There's a lariat on my saddle."
After a while Ned returned with a lantern and the other rope.
Syle quickly tied on the lantern and lit it. "I hate to ask you to do this, Bass. I'll go if you're not up to it."
Bass Reeves shook his head. "No, I can do it. I just want my hands free—that's all. Lovell, you keep that carbine handy. You shoot anything that moves where I ain't looking."
Lovell nodded and levered a round into his Winchester.
Bass slowly lowered himself down, first kicking the loose rocks directly in front of him as he bellied over the edge. Instantly there was the sound of rattlers reacting to the falling stones. "Gott damn, I hate this," Bass cursed.
Ned Bells watched carefully as he lowered the lantern and stammered to himself in his native Osage.
Pete Syle held the second lantern with his revolver in the other hand. Lovell aimed his Winchester on the lighted walls of the hole as Ned's lantern was lowered.
A revolver boomed from the hole. "Son of a bitch!" Bass Reeves cursed.
"What! What!" Syle yelled.
"I just blew one's head off and its body fell on my arm. The damn thing's as big around as my wrist," Bass yelled.
Again Ned Bells muttered in Osage as he stared into the hole. Lovell watched carefully for any movement in his sights. He licked his lips and tried to keep the sweat from his eyes. He could feel himself trembling.
"I'm at the bottom," Bass yelled. "I guess the snakes have crawled back into their holes. I don't see any."
"What about the woman and the children?" Lovell asked.
There was silence, then he said, "They're here. All three of them." His voice was torn with emotion. "They've shot them all, Pete. Shot them all in the head."
"Damn," Lovell said softly. He lowered his carbine and stepped back to get his breath. All he could see was their faces when they nursed him. He thought of the extra pocketknife in his pocket—Levi's knife.
"Tie them on one at a time and we'll raise them out," Pete Syle ordered.
Moments later Bass called from below. "I'm ready. Pull her up."
They raised the body of Leah and carefully placed her on the ground. She had been shot in the back of the head and the bullet exited just above her left eye. Rosie was next. She, too, had been shot in the back of the head. Levi was last. His face was gone from a shotgun blast.
Syle stepped to Lovell. "You gonna be alright?"
Lovell nodded then shook his head in disgust. "No, Pete. I don't know that I'll ever get over this."
"We need to bury them. Might as well make camp. We're played out for this day," Pete Syle said as Bass Reeves crawled out of the hole.
They dug shallow graves in the soft ground by the wagon and placed large stones over the head of each. When they finished, Lovell knelt beside Levi's grave and placed the pocketknife by the rock.
"Maybe we should have buried them with Rance Banford," Bass Reeves said as he loomed over the graves.
"No," Lovell said. "They are better off here, alone, in this quiet place. I wouldn't want them buried at Black Fork with that scum." He shoved the knife into the dirt and slowly covered it.
"Sometimes this job gets to be more than a man can handle," Bass said.
"Hell, that's life," Pete Syle said. "I never cease to be amazed at what some people will do to other people."
Lovell stood and pulled on his hat. "That's why we're here. To stop the kind of men who do these deeds. I wish those Washington bureaucrats could see something like this when they start criticizing Judge Parker's hanging record."
"Let's get something to eat and some sleep," Pete Syle said. "We've got a lot of ground to cover in the morning."
It was several hours before any of them could sleep. Lovell fought nightmares throughout the night. The next morning he returned to Levi's grave and retrieved the pocketknife. He decided he had another use for it.
Chapter 13
They were in the saddle and riding hard by sunup. The trail was easy to follow and they needed to close in before other herds using the road corrupted it. There was little conversation among them; rather the grim, silent determination to get the job done prevailed.
The Osage Hills were a maze of Ozark forest, rocky ridges and narrow twisting valleys. A man could ride for days, certain that the country was completely uninhabited, and suddenly blunder into a sizable settlement or ranch headquarters nestled in the base of a canyon. Outlaws on the run from Kansas, Missouri and Arkansas would purposely route their escape into the Hills to confuse their pursuers. Robber's road was one of the trails but the name was misleading. There wasn't just one trail—there were hundreds meandering through the forest. Men who didn't know the territory, especially lawmen, could become hopelessly confused and end up following th
e wrong tracks. More dangerous yet were numerous ambush points and perilous side trails where, if men didn't lose their nerve, they might just as easily lose their lives in pursuit of bandits.
By midafternoon they topped a rise and could see distant swirls of dust rising from the trees a mile in front of them. From the condition of the tracks they knew that it was the Nodine gang with the horse herd. As they rode on Syle made plans for the arrest.
"These are bad men and I don't believe we should take extraordinary measures to take them alive. If they resist in the slightest open up on them. I'll explain it to the judge later. We'll wait until they bring the herd to a halt then try to take them in camp. They'll scatter like quail if we hit them too soon."
Experienced marshals knew this but Syle needed to make his plan clear. It was decided that the marshals would hang back and only Ned Bells would follow closely. Too many riders would alert them and Ned was the best at scouting in close without detection.
As Ned rode ahead, Pete, Bass and Lovell followed at a walk, resting their mounts and thinking. There was very little conversation as each man thought of what he had witnessed, remembered similar arrests and what they had experienced. At dark, Ned Bells met them on the trail.
"They are camped by a small creek two miles ahead. I don't believe that they realize we are after them. They are careful but not real jumpy. The horses are in a box canyon and their campfire is at the head of it. There are five men."
"Five? I thought Gracie counted only three," Bass said.
"I couldn't tell but I believe that two of them joined the herd after they killed the family," Ned answered.
Pete Syle nodded. "That would figure. That's a lot of horses for three men to handle in this country."
"Did you see Nodine?" Lovell asked.
"There is a black man riding with them. He is very dark with a broad nose and wide mouth. He has broad shoulders and hair to his shoulders," Ned said.
"Boy, that sounds like him," Bass Reeves said.
"I don't much care about the others if they scatter but I want Nodine taken for sure," Syle said. "I want him dead or alive. If he gives any resistance at all, kill him."
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