Texas Iron
Page 23
Lincoln Burkett also noticed these things. He especially noticed that less than half of his men had obeyed his command.
He didn’t like the odds.
He ran up onto the boardwalk, behind his men, and started running down the street.
“Sam!” Jubal shouted. He had taken cover behind a horse trough and was now pointing at the retreating figure of Lincoln Burkett.
“I’ll get him!”
Sam got to his feet and fired as he ran. He stayed on his side of the street, passing Jubal, until he was clear of the jail and Burkett’s men, and then he crossed the street and took up the chase.
He reloaded as he ran, keeping Burkett in sight ahead of him. Burkett, at his age, would normally not have been able to stay ahead of Sam, but Sam’s leg wound kept him from running at full speed.
The thing that worked in Sam’s favor was that Burketthad chosen a direction that was away from everything.
He was running away from the livery, and the saloon, he was even running away from his ranch, which was south of town rather than north. This indicated that the man wasn’t running toward anything, he was simply trying to get “away.”
That wouldn’t happen, Sam swore to himself. Not by a long chalk.
He ignored the burning pain in his thigh and increased his speed. He was closing the gap between himself and Burkett. Burkett saw this as he looked over his shoulder, and he panicked. Gun in hand he turned and fired at Sam, but his shot was so hurried that he missed by a wide margin.
Sam saw the man riding down Main Street just as Burkett fired at him, and he saw the badge on the man’s chest. The appearance of the man slowed his reaction, and Burkett fired again. This time the bullet fell short, kicking up dirt in front of Sam’s feet. This reclaimed Sam’s attention and he fired once, accurately. The bullet hit Lincoln Burkett high on the right shoulder. It was an unhurried shot, because it was obvious that Burkett was inept with a gun, therefore it was a well-placed shot. Burkett’s hand opened and the gun fell to the ground. He went to one knee, clutching at his shoulder.
Sam reached him just as the man on horseback did.
“Marshal Carson?” Sam said, looking up at the lawman.
“That’s right,” Carson said. He was a burly man in his thirties, with a heavy mustache and steely eyes. “Are you Sam McCall?”
“That’s right.”
“And this man?”
“This man is the reason I sent for you, Marshal.”
The sound of firing was still clear from down the street but had fallen off some.
“Seems I arrived a little late,” the marshal said.
“No, marshal,” Sam said, looking down at Lincoln Burkett, “you arrived just in time”
Epilogue
With the arrival of the federal lawman, activity died down. The men who had lowered their rifles to watch now scrambled for their horses, not wanting to be involved any further if it meant jail.
Jubal, with the help of Dude Miller, Ed Collins, and Swede Hanson, had done a pretty fair job on those of Burkett’s men who had agreed to fight for their boss’that is, until they saw him hightailing it out of there. A few of them lay dead or wounded on the street, and the others had thrown down their guns. They weren’t fighting any more for a man who had lit out.
Burkett and his men were taken to the jail, where they were stuffed into cells. Doc Leader was sent for to see to the wounded ones.
The marshall’s horse was taken to the livery stable for him as he entered the sheriff’s office. With him there were Sam, Jubal, Dude Miller, Serena, and Ed Collins.
Marshal Frank Carson seated himself behind the sheriff’s desk and pinned his eyes on Sam.
“Are you the sheriff here?”
“Not elected, or appointed—”
“Then I’d appreciate it if you would take off that badge.” Carson looked at Jubal and said, “That goes for you, too.”
“Yes, sir.”
They both removed the badges and set them down on the desk.
“Who are you people?” Carson asked, looking at the others.
Dude Miller made the introductions.
“Where’s the sheriff?”
“We don’t have one at the moment,” Miller said.
“The mayor, then?”
“I suspect he’s hiding underneath his desk,” Ed Collins said.
“Do any of you people sit on the Town Council?”
“No,” Miller said, “they wouldn’t have Ed and me.”
“Why not?”
“We wouldn’t kowtow to Lincoln Burkett.”
“Burkett…” Carson looked at Sam. “That’s the man you shot as I was ridin’ in, right?”
“Right.”
“What’s his position in the town?”
They all started talking at once, and Carson waved his hand for them to quiet down.
“Ma’am, for no other reason than that you’re the prettiest one here, why don’t you try tellin’ me what this is all about?”
“From the beginning?”
Carson frowned and asked, “How far back are we goin—?”
“Pretty far back,” Serena said.
Carson sighed and signaled for her to begin. He didn’t have anything else to do at the moment.
While Serena explained to the marshal everything that Lincoln Burkett had done since he’d arrived, Jubal made coffee and set a cup at the marshal’s elbow. The man acknowledged him with a nod of thanks.
From there Serena went on to explain what had happened to Joshua and Miriam McCall, and then everything since the arrival of Sam, Evan, and Jubal.
“Where is Evan McCall?” Carson asked.
“He’s dead,” Sam said. “Burkett had him killed by a man named Coffin.” He didn’t bother telling the lawman that John Burkett had had Evan killed. To Sam it was all the same.
At Coffin’s name the marshal perked up.
“I know that name. Where is Coffin?”
“Sam killed him,” Dude Miller said.
“Outdrew him clean,” Jubal said.
Carson looked at McCall and said, “Well, I guess you’re everything your friend Murdock said you were.”
“I hope not” Sam mumbled, and drank some coffee.
Serena continued her story, filling the marshal in on all the facts and most of the supposition that had gone on during the week.
When she was done Carson asked for another cup of coffee and waited until he got it to speak again.
“As I understand it, then,” he said, looking at Sam and Jubal, “your parents were killed, and you didn’t believe the official verdict. Rather, you believe they were murdered.”
“That’s right.”
Doc Leader entered the room at that point and Carson looked at him.
“Well, Doctor?”
“Nobody back there’s gonna die in the next twenty four hours. They can stay there, if that’s where you want them.”
“That’s what we’re discussing now,” Carson said.
Someone was shouting from the back, and Carson asked the doctor who it was.
“Who is that?” Carson asked.
“That’s Lincoln Burkett,” Doc Leader said. “He’s lookin’ for someone to scare, I reckon.”
“Tell me, Doctor,” Carson said, “you examined the bodies of Joshua and Miriam Burkett, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“What was your verdict?”
“I didn’t give the verdict.”
“Who did?”
“The sheriff, Tom Kelly—but I suspect he was told by Lincoln Burkett.”
“Burkett gave the verdict?”
“If you ask me,” Leader said, “yeah.”
“Well, what did you think? Did Joshua McCall kill himself?”
“You’re askin’ me?”
“That’s right. Does that surprise you?”
“It sure does,” Doc Leader said. “Nobody asked me before.” “Well, you’re bein’ asked now,” Carson said.
“No,
he didn’t kill himself, and I doubt that he killed his wife.”
“On what do you base your findings?”
“There were no powder burns around his head wound,”
Leader said. “If he had shot himself at point-blank range, the hair around the wound would have been singed. It was not.”
“So then he was killed by someone else?”
“Yes.”
“Would you put that in writing for me, sir?”
“I’ll be happy to.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Sam said.
Doc Leader scowled and said, “I suppose I owe it to you.
I was as cowed by Burkett as anybody in this town. Does me good to see him in jail.”
“It’s where he belongs,” Jubal said.
“Well, we haven’t established that, yet,” Marshal Carson said.
“What?”
“We’ve established that someone killed your parents,”
Carson said, “but not who.”
“It had to be Burkett,” Serena said. “Remember, he ended up with the McCall ranch.”
“I know, and I know you told me there’s oil on the land, but there’s still no proof that Joshua McCall didn’t make a legal agreement with Burkett to sell the land, and the house—”
“I have proof,” Sam said.
Carson looked at him.
“What proof?”
“A letter,” Sam said, “written by my father before he died.”
“Where is the letter?”
“Right here.”
Sam took it out of his shirt and handed it to the lawman.
“Where did that come from?” Serena asked.
“We found it yesterday,” Sam said, “but in all the excitement we didn’t have a chance to tell anyone.”
They all stood silently as Carson read the letter. He looked up at them when he was done. Dude and Serena Miller and Ed Collins had expectant looks on their faces.
“According to this,” Carson said, “Joshua McCall was coerced into trading his land for a worthless shack because of a threat to his wife.”
“I knew it!” Jubal said.
Sam looked at Serena and said, “Burkett told Pa he’d have Ma raped and killed if he didn’t agree. Pa wanted to stand up to him, but Burkett had too many men.”
“Your father’s men,” Serena said, “the ones who wouldn’t work for Burkett, were run off, so he was alone.”
“That’s right.”
“It also says here,” Carson said, “that in the event of his death we—you,” he amended, looking at Sam and Jubal—”and your brother should consider that he had decided to call Burkett’s bluff and go to the law.”
“Pa probably decided to go to the law outside of Vengeance Creek, and Burkett found out about it and had him and ma killed.”
“And they tried to make it look like Pa did it himself,”
Jubal said.
“Does it say there whether or not your Pa knew about the oil?” Dude Miller asked.
“No,” Sam said. “My guess is Pa didn’t know anything about it.”
“He never knew what a rich man he was,” Miller said.
“Well,” Carson said, folding the letter, “if this handwriting can be identified—”
“It can,” Miller said. “I’ve got samples of Joshua’s handwriting in my store.” He looked at Sam and said, “I.O.U.’s after they moved into that shack. Your Pa wouldn’t take charity, he insisted in giving me an I.O.U. for everything.”
“That’s just like Pa.”
“Well then, with what happened here today,” Carson said, “I think I’ve got enough to hold Lincoln Burkett over for trial. I’ll send for a circuit judge and we’ll hold the trial right here.”
“Good,” Serena said. “I want to see him go on trial.”
“You people had better get out of here and let me get started with my job,” Carson said. “It looks like I might be here a while.”
Dude Miller, Serena, and Ed Collins all made for the door.
“Uh, McCall—” Carson said.
Both Sam and Jubal turned.
“Both of you, stay a minute.”
They waited until the others had left.
“I’ll need deputies while I’m here,” Carson said. “I’ve got a full house back there. You interested?”
Sam and Jubal exchanged glances, and when Jubal nodded, Sam said, “Sure, Marshal, count on us.”
“Pickup your badges, then. Sam, I’m namin’ you interim sheriff of Vengeance Creek.”
Sam hesitated, then picked up the badge.
“One more thing.”
“What’s that?” Sam asked.
“I want you to understand that I don’t know if we have enough to convict Burkett for having your parents killed—not without a witness. We all can get him for trying to kill you, and for stealing your father’s ranch, but murder? Don’t count on it.”
“That’s all right, Marshal,” Sam said. “If he gets convicted on the other charges he’ll go to jail—and we’ll be around when he gets out.”
“And if he doesn’t go to jail,” Jubal said, “we’ll still be around.”
“If anythin’ happens to him, I’ll have to come after you two,” Carson said, pointing his index finger at them.
“That’s something we understand too, Marshal.”
“All right, then,” Carson said, “suppose you two fellas get out on the street and try and put this town back in order.”
“Yes, sir.”
They headed for the door. Jubal opened it but Sam turned to face the marshal again.
“Marshal?”
“Yeah?”
“What about the ranch? Who does it belong to?”
“Nobody, right now,” Carson said. “I impounded it, but if everythin’ can be proven—and with the help of this letter and Burkett’s actions, I think it can’the judge should probably be returnin’ the ranch to you fellas. You better decide what you want to do with it.”
“Burkett’s got a lot of money…” Sam said.
“I hope you’re not implying that either I or the judge can be bought.”
“I’m not implying anything, Marshal,” Sam said. “I’m just sayin—…”
Carson eyed Sam critically and said, “All right, McCall, I understand what you’re sayin—.”
Sam nodded and followed Jubal outside.
“What are we going to do now?” Jubal asked.
Sam looked up and down the streets of Vengeance Creek.
“Well, we’re stuck here until the judge comes to town.
Who knows when that will be?”
“And then after that, if we get the ranch, we’re going to have to stay around and figure out what to do with it.”
“Well, you could live on it,” Sam said.
“We could live on it,” Jubal said. “Maybe even you and Serena—”
“Whoa, boy, don’t be jumpin’ to no conclusions.”
“Don’t call me boy!” Jubal said. “I see the way you look at her—”
“Whatayou know about lookin’ at a woman, you young PUP?”
“I know enough…”
They started down the street, Sam walking with a slight limp, still arguing about who might marry Serena and who might live on the ranch, and who knew what about women, two brothers who were closer now than they had ever been in their lives—and as close as they might ever be.
CRITICS ARE WILD FOR
ROBERT J. RANDISI!
“Randisi always turns out a traditional Western with plenty of gunplay and interesting characters”
—Roundup
“Each of Randisi’s novels is better than its entertaining predecessor.”
—Booklist
“Everybody seems to be looking for the next Louis L’Amour. To me, they need look no further than Randisi.”
—Jake Foster, author of Three Rode South
“Randisi knows his stuff and brings it to life.”
—Preview Magazine
�
��Randisi has a definite ability to construct a believable plot around his characters.”
—Booklist
Other books by Robert J. Randisi:
Thrillers:
COLD BLOODED
BLOOD OF ANGELS
EAST OF THE ARCH
CURTAINS OF BLOOD
BLOOD ON THE ARCH
IN THE SHADOW OF
THE ARCH THE SIXTH PHASE
ALONE WITH THE DEAD
Westerns:
THE MONEY GUN
BLOOD TRAIL TO KANSAS
TRAPP’s MOUNTAIN
BACKSHOOTER
THE FUNERAL OF TANNER MOODY
LANCASTER’s ORPHANS
MIRACLE OF THE JACAL
TARGETT
LEGEND
THE GHOST WITH BLUE EYES
Copyright 1991 by Robert J. Randisi
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