The hotel door burst open and three men barged into the room. Hagen already had his pistol out as Trammel reached for the Colt under his arm, but the sight of three Winchesters leveled at them stopped him.
The stars pinned to the men’s dusters calmed him.
The man with the sheriff’s star said, “You boys set your guns on the floor and come along nice and peaceful. We don’t want no trouble, and I hope you don’t, either.”
Trammel took his hand away from the Colt and picked up his knife and fork. “I’m in the middle of my supper.”
He felt Hagen look at him as the gambler set his pistol on the floor.
The sheriff took another step into the room. “Maybe you don’t see too good in the lamplight, boy. Nor hear so good, neither. We’re the law in this town, so if we say you move, you move. Supper or no supper.”
Trammel dug into his mashed potatoes. “This is the first decent meal I’ve had in weeks, Sheriff, and I don’t plan on having it spoiled by anyone. Law or no law. You’ve got questions, ask them here. If not, you can stand right there and watch me eat, and we’ll join you when we’re done. Otherwise, you’re just going to have to shoot me and my friend here. I don’t think the good people of Ogallala will take too kindly to you gunning down its latest celebrity while the brave man who delivered those holy women from the wilderness is enjoying a peaceful supper.”
Hagen slid his pistol away from the table with his foot and resumed eating, too. “He’s quite right, Sheriff. I’m unarmed and my large friend here is in the middle of his meal. You’ve got three Winchesters aimed at us and, given the exalted status I currently enjoy in these parts, I’m sure you can see your way clear to granting us certain accommodations as it pertains to your questioning. If we’re anything less than truthful, you can grab us out of our chairs and bring us to jail.”
With a mouthful of potatoes, Trammel added, “But I wouldn’t advise it. Ask your questions, Sheriff.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Trammel could see the sheriff trade glances with his deputies. The three men lowered their rifles. The sheriff motioned to the deputy on his left, who shut the broken door as best he could.
“Name’s Sheriff Barnwell,” he said, “and I’ve got a telegram from Charlie Bassett in Dodge City that says two men fitting your descriptions are wanted for questioning in the murder of five men on the trail from Wichita. Now, I know the big fella here is going by the name of Jim Ronan.” He looked at Hagen. “But you’re going by a couple of names you can’t seem to get straight in your own mind. That’s why I think you’re Buck Trammel and Adam Hagen out of Wichita. You’re the same two Charlie Bassett wants held for questioning.”
“Out of Wichita?” Hagen gagged. “God forbid. Just because I lived there for a month doesn’t mean I’m from that ghastly place.”
Before Hagen’s flowery language make things worse, Trammel said, “We didn’t murder anyone, Sheriff. We shot two men who tried to kill us in camp. One said they were working for the Bowman ranch with orders to gun us down on sight. I take it you know what happened in Wichita that made us leave.”
Barnwell’s chin rose. “I certainly do.”
“Good,” Trammel said, “then you know Earp practically rode us out of town on a rail to keep the peace with the Bowman clan. We shot the two who tried to sandbag us on the way to Dodge City. You say there’s five dead. That means there’s five we had nothing to do with.”
Hagen chimed in, “Save for the bandits we sent to hell in the service of those poor pilgrim women I brought into town yesterday. Poor lambs.”
Barnwell’s eyes narrowed. “You mean to tell me you didn’t shoot Matt Bowman or the men riding with him?”
Trammel set down his silverware. “Matt Bowman is dead?”
Barnwell nodded. “Him and three of the men who rode with him. His cousin and the rest of their party escaped unharmed.”
“The rest of their party?” Trammel repeated. “Who?”
“His cousin Walt Bowman and the men they hired to hunt you down. Leader is known as John Hanover. Goes by the name of—”
“Lefty.” Trammel recognized the name. “His left eye is missing.”
“So you do know him?” Barnwell said. His deputies gripped their rifles a little tighter.
“Of course, I know him,” Trammel said. “I’m the one who cost him his eye.”
“So there’s bad blood between you two,” Barnwell stated. “Stands to reason you’d want to kill him.”
“Only if he tried killing me first,” Trammel said. “I haven’t seen Hanover since the night I threw him out of The Gilded Lilly on account of him getting rough with one of the girls who worked there. I threw him out and he stayed out. That was months ago. Heard he lost his eye when a cut above his eyebrow got infected. If anyone wants blood, Sheriff, it’s on his side of the ledger, not mine. Besides, Hanover and his friends are saddle tramps. They’ve been riding the trail from Wichita to Texas since before they could walk. No one could get the jump on them, least of all a drunken gambler and a city boy like me.”
“I’m not drunk,” Hagen protested. “At least, not too drunk at the moment. Though I’ve never met this Lefty fellow. Not sure I’d want to play poker with him, though. One-eyed men are bad luck indeed. Tough to read, you know.”
Trammel shook his head. Damn Hagen and his mouth. He looked up at Sheriff Barnwell. “I take it the telegraph office is still open?”
“Closed at eight, but I can get it open again. Why?”
“Because I think you should send an urgent wire to Earp in Wichita. He’ll back up everything I just told you. If he doesn’t, Hagen and I will come along peaceful like you said. If he does, we’ll be on our way.”
Barnwell traded looks with his deputies again. “You’re an awfully confident man, mister. Especially with three Winchesters against you.”
“You’re the law, aren’t you?” Trammel began cutting off another bit of steak. “No reason to be nervous around the law when you’re telling the truth. Post your men at our door there and send the wire, Sheriff. You’ll have your answers soon enough.”
Trammel sensed some of the fight leave the sheriff. “No need, Trammel. I already did that. Bassett didn’t buy Hanover’s story, even though all of them, including the cousin, swore out a complaint. Bassett said he’s got a shopkeeper in Dodge City who says a man fitting Hagen’s description bought a lot of supplies from him a week or so before Lefty and his bunch came to town. Bassett thinks you boys were too far along the trail to have killed Bowman and his men the way Hanover said. Earp happens to agree.”
Trammel knew the answer to his next question, but had to ask anyway. “Then why kick in the door if you already knew the answers?”
Barnwell looked down at his shoes. “Still had to put the question to you, seeing as how it was a sworn complaint and all. We’ve had some run-ins with Lefty Hanover ourselves here in Ogallala. Never struck us as the types who could be taken on the trail by a drunk and a tenderfoot, either, not even one as big as you.”
Hagen smiled as he set his silverware aside and dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “Never have I been more comforted by my own incompetence than I am now.” He bowed toward the lawman. “Thank you, Sheriff Barnwell.”
Trammel saw some of the rigidity return to the sheriff. He probably didn’t understand everything Hagen had just said, and Trammel knew a man like Barnwell didn’t like what he didn’t understand. He tried to soothe it over by saying, “We’ll be happy to write out our statements right here in front of you if it’ll make your job easier, Sheriff.”
“I usually do that down at the jail.”
Trammel decided there was no point in being coy with the man. “I’d like to keep as low a profile as I can until we board the midnight train to Laramie, Sheriff. Someone sees us going into the jail might remember us. Word might get back to Lefty, and we’ve ridden too hard for too long to let them catch our trail again.”
“You think Hanover’s still on your tail?”
<
br /> “He filed that report with Bassett to get an idea of where we were,” Trammel said. “Maybe he reported it to cover his own tracks in the killings. Maybe he still plans on coming after us. Either way, I don’t want to take any chances. We’ll write the statements for you because you need them, and you’ve been good to us. We’d appreciate it if you could keep our conversation here just between you and Bassett. Maybe tell him we’re not Trammel and Hagen?”
Barnwell told one of his deputies to go down to the clerk’s desk and fetch some pens and paper.
“I can’t promise Hanover won’t pick up your scent,” the sheriff said, “given that Hagen here was mentioned in the papers. Those women you rescued are likely to tell someone about you sooner rather than later. But no one will hear it from us, or where you’re going, either. You’ve got my word on that.”
Trammel hadn’t met Sheriff Barnwell before he’d kicked in the door to his hotel room only a few minutes before, but he could tell the man’s word meant something. “Can’t ask any more than that, Sheriff.”
Barnwell looked at Hagen. “And you better make sure it’s written in plain American English. No fancy phrases or the like. The statement won’t count if I can’t understand the damned thing.”
They all jumped when Hagen slapped his hand on the table. “A peaceful resolution is always good for the digestion. I should send for a bottle and celebrate this joyous occasion.” He gestured toward the doorway. “If I might be permitted to summon a bottle from the bar.”
“No thanks,” Barnwell said. “My men and I don’t drink on duty.”
Hagen smiled. “Funny. The thought of offering you any never crossed my mind.”
CHAPTER 16
Hagen struggled to keep up with Trammel’s long strides as they walked through the darkness toward the train. Even carrying his saddle and rifles, he was still impossibly fast for a man his size. “I don’t see why you’re so cross, Buck.”
“That damned mouth of yours is going to get me killed,” Trammel said.
“We’re free, aren’t we? Heading to Laramie, just as I planned?”
“Antagonizing Barnwell like that could’ve gotten us locked up or shot.”
Hagen was taken back by Trammel’s anger, especially after what had happened. “You’re annoyed about my antagonizing him? You defied the man in your underwear!”
“But I didn’t make him feel like an ignorant fool,” Trammel said. “You did. From now on, if there’s law around, best to let me do the talking.”
Hagen had never been one to enjoy rebuke. He hadn’t enjoyed it from his father or his superiors at West Point or while in the army, either. But his friends were a different matter entirely and, after all they had endured together, he had come to think of Buck Trammel as a friend.
“Perhaps that would be for the best,” Hagen agreed. He decided to change the tenor of their conversation, given that they still had quite a bit of a walk to the train and Hagen abhorred silence. “You know, you really impressed me back there. The way you handled the sheriff, I mean.”
“Didn’t do it to impress you or anyone. Just didn’t want to miss this train.”
“Neither do I,” Hagen said. “Still, you showed remarkable grace under a different kind of fire. You had him turned from the moment you defied him. That was very quick thinking on your part.”
Trammel didn’t break his stride. “I didn’t live this long in this line of work by being stupid, Hagen. I might not be able to ride or shoot or talk as well as you, but I can handle myself in most circumstances just fine. And I’ll go on that way as long as you can keep that tongue of yours in your head still.”
In another time and place, Adam Hagen would’ve bristled at the man’s ingratitude. He had saved his life on the trail several times. He had kept him alive by procuring goods and keeping them on the right trail away from Bowman and his men.
But this wasn’t another time or place. They were in Ogallala, and they had been through quite a bit together. They had fought side by side and, he remembered, Trammel had saved his life on more than one occasion.
Adam Hagen knew he was a man of many faults, but ingratitude had never been one of them. “I will.”
Trammel stopped walking. “That’s it? Just ‘I will’?”
Hagen was completely confused. “Yes. What do you want me to say?”
Trammel resumed his pace. “That’s the shortest answer I’ve ever heard from you. Maybe you should’ve bought another bottle back at the hotel after all. Have myself a celebration to mark the occasion.”
“Sarcasm is quite unbecoming,” Haden said, but left it at that. If anyone had earned the right to be sarcastic to him, it was Buck Trammel.
* * *
At the station, Hagen showed the conductor the two tickets he had purchased the day before. The fat man looked at the two men, then at the tickets. “Which one of you is Mitchell?”
Hagen spoke up, as it was he who purchased the tickets and invented the names to write on them. “That would be my large companion here.”
The conductor handed Trammel one of the tickets. “You’re in private coach ‘C.’ Step on here and someone will show you to your berth.” He looked at the saddle and rifles Trammel was carrying. “I encourage you to check them with the porter. They’ll be perfectly safe with the horses.”
“That encouragement an order?” Trammel asked.
“Not at all.”
Trammel picked up his rig and hoisted it on his shoulder. “Good.”
The conductor shook his head at the passenger’s stubbornness as he handed the other ticket to Hagen. “Your seat’s at the back of the train, but I’ve got a feeling you’ll be in the salon car most of the trip.”
Hagen slipped the ticket into his pocket. “Now why would you ever think that?”
The fat man walked away and tended to another group of passengers walking down the platform.
“He has your sense of humor,” Hagen said to Trammel.
Trammel didn’t laugh. “When do you want to meet up again?”
“We’ve no set schedule,” Hagen said. “Just enjoy the ride and get off when we come to Laramie. We’ll collect our horses and ride to Blackstone from there. It’s less than half a day’s ride north. If all works out, our days of living on the trail are well behind us.”
“And if it doesn’t work out?” Trammel asked. “If your old man doesn’t treat you like the prodigal son.”
Hagen couldn’t bring himself to entertain such a notion but didn’t blame Trammel for doing so. “If that’s the case, it’s like you said. You’re not stupid. Neither am I. We’ll figure something out.”
He ignored Trammel’s grumbling as he watched the big man climb onto the train.
CHAPTER 17
Lefty allowed the telegram to sit on the table a long time before he even looked at it again.
“Well,” Skinner prodded. “You going to tell us what it says?”
“It says that the sheriff in Ogallala doesn’t think it’s Hagen,” Lefty finally told them. “Or Trammel. Says the descriptions weren’t close enough to confirm it was them. Said he’s mailing their sworn statements to Bassett on the next post.”
Hooch finished his whiskey and poured himself another. “Well, I guess that’s that.”
Lefty glared at him with his one good eye. “That’s nothin’.”
“That’s right,” Parrot repeated. “That’s nothing!”
Lefty pulled out the newspaper article he had torn out of yesterday’s paper. The headline read “Moses of the Plains.” The article detailed how a single man saved a group of Quaker women from an army of bandits who sought to sell the women into slavery.
He slapped the article next to the telegram. “That’s why ‘that ain’t that,’ damn you.”
Chico looked at the newsprint, though he couldn’t read. “That the article you found on that man who saved them ladies?”
“It is,” Lefty told him, “and there’s no way in hell a man who looks like Hagen could�
��ve rescued all those women by himself. That meant he had help, someone who kept himself hidden on account of him being so memorable. A man like Hagen can’t help but play it loud. A man like Trammel doesn’t like attention. And I’m wagering he did just that.”
Lefty looked at Hooch. “You’re the gambler of the group. What are the odds that the sheriff finds two men matching Trammel and Hagen in the same town at exactly the same amount of time it’d take them to get up to Ogallala?”
Hooch shrugged. “Pretty steep, but hell, Lefty, we’ve made better time than they did, and that was on a cattle drive.”
“So they were slower,” Lefty said, “but stumbling upon them women slowed them down some. I’m telling you boys that the sheriff found Trammel and Hagen and let them go. I don’t know why, but I’m telling you it’s them. I can feel it in my bones, and that feeling’s never let you boys down before, now has it?”
“Has it?” Parrot repeated.
The men all looked at each other, save for Walt, whose head was on the table. The boy had been in a stupor since they had ridden into town weeks ago.
“Okay,” Skinner said. “Maybe it’s them. Let’s say you’re right and it is them. What good will it do to keep goin’ after them like we’ve been doin’?”
He looked around and lowered his voice. “Hooch might be the gambler here, but it don’t take a gambler to appreciate the odds and to know when it’s time to quit while we’re ahead. We already got the law believing that they killed Bowman and the others. We’ve got their money, which is running mighty low right now, so what more do you want?”
Chico said, “Maybe it’s time we let things take their course, Lefty. We’ve had ourselves a hell of a time here, but I miss Texas. I miss cowpunchin’ and all the fun we used to have. I say we fall in with an outfit heading back to Wichita and hire on drivin’ cattle again.”
Hooch added, “Ogallala’s a long way from here, Lefty. And who knows where they went from there? They could’ve gotten on a horse or bought a train ticket to anywhere by now. They could be back east or out west. Hell, we ain’t never been to any of them places. I’m of a mind that we ought to go back to doin’ what we do best and leave Trammel and Hagen to God or the Devil, whoever gets ’em first.”
North of Laramie Page 10
