* * *
“Somebody’s comin’,” Riley Best called back over his shoulder. “One man, ridin’ a gray and leadin’ a packhorse.”
“Can’t tell who it is?” Reuben asked.
“No,” Riley answered. “Wait a minute! It looks like Pete Russell!”
This was enough to get Reuben up out of his chair and to the door to see for himself. “I swear,” he uttered, “it sure is. I thought he was dead or still in jail down at Buzzard’s Bluff. That’s what Walt said.” In a few seconds they were joined by Dora and Paulene and when Pete pulled the gray to a stop at the front door, Reuben said, “Where’d you get that gray?”
“I stole him,” Pete answered and climbed down from the saddle.
“We heard you was dead,” Riley said.
“For a while there, I thought I was,” Pete replied. “And I’m feelin’ half-dead now and I’m needin’ a drink of likker bad.”
“Well, come on in,” Paulene said, “and we’ll get you one. You look like you been rode hard.”
Pete dropped the gray’s reins on the ground and walked up the steps. “I’ll take care of my horses after I get that drink.” They stood aside, then followed him inside where he sat down at the table Reuben had just gotten up from. “You seen Walt Murphy?” Pete asked after he tossed his drink down.
“Yeah,” Reuben answered. “He’s the one said you was dead. He came here after that day him and the others was gonna break you and Ormond outta jail. And nobody came back from that big ambush with him. Booth Brayer, Charlie Taylor, Dick Flynn, and John Temple; none of ’em made it back here. Walt was the only one and he just made it, himself. He said Ben Savage and the sheriff were all set up and waitin’ for ’em when they charged in that jail after you and Ormond.” He paused then to ask, “Where is Ormond? Did he get away with you?”
“No . . . no, he didn’t,” Pete responded soberly. “Ormond was shot down by Ben Savage and they left me in that jail cell with him for four days, so I could watch him rot. Walt don’t know about that because he didn’t stick around after Charley and Temple were shot down. He took off like a bat outta hell and never fired a shot at nobody. I’m the only one of us that walked outta that Buzzard’s Bluff jail, and I’ll tell you why.” He went on to tell them the complete story as it actually happened, including the part about his standoff with Savage and Bragg after he got his hands on the gun Ormond dropped. He also confessed to giving up after his body couldn’t take it anymore. “So they sent two deputy marshals down there to take me to the train station in Madisonville. And they got the money on the train, but they didn’t get me on it. I saw my chance, so I took it. Too bad I had to kill two deputies to get away.”
“So, there was all that bank money in those saddlebags you and Ormond wouldn’t let outta your sight,” Reuben said. “I knew it. We all did. Ain’t that right, Riley?”
“It sure is,” Riley confirmed.
“Me and Ormond knew you knew it, too,” Pete said, smiled, and shook his head as if in sad lament. “And we was tryin’ our best to hold onto every penny of it. Nothin’ against you boys, but we just figured we was the ones who robbed that bank. And we’d already lost their brother and his share of the money along with him.” He slowly shook his head again. “And now I’m broke as I was before the whole thing got started, and I’ll have every lawman in the state of Texas after me. So I came back here to pick up my stuff and that 74 Sharps single-shot rifle I left here. I got a feelin’ I’m gonna be eatin’ a lot of wild meat for a while, at least till I can run across a little money somewhere.” He paused to see how they were takin’ his sorrowful tale. “I’ve got a right fine gray geldin’ out there I’d like to trade, if anybody’s interested in pickin’ up a good horse. I don’t need to be ridin’ that gray right now, if you know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean,” Reuben responded. “I’m always lookin’ for a good trade, and you’re right, they’ll be lookin’ for a man fits your description, ridin’ a gray horse. You’re gonna stay the night, ain’tcha?” Pete said he had planned to, so Reuben said, “I’ll take a look at him in the mornin’. We’re glad to have your company, ain’t we, girls, even if you’re a little light in your pocket.” They giggled appropriately.
“Oh, I didn’t come lookin’ for a handout,” Pete said. “I intend to pay for my keep here, just like before. I’ve got fifty dollars I hid in the sack of cartridges for that Sharps rifle. As long as you ain’t give my stuff away, I can pay for tonight.” When that brought a sudden look of awkwardness to the faces of both Reuben and Riley, Pete asked, “You still got my possibles, ain’t you?”
“Why, sure, your stuff’s still here, even though we figured you and Ormond had cut out for good when you took your saddles and your saddlebags, too.” Reuben was quick to assure him. “But I don’t know what to tell you about your fifty dollars. I have to admit, we looked in that sack just to see what was in there and saw them cartridges. But there weren’t no money in there.”
“No money?” Pete exclaimed. “Did you look real good? ’Cause I rolled it up and stuck it under all the cartridges.” When they both shook their heads solemnly, he said, “Well, if that don’t beat all. The only person who knew about it was Ormond. That son of a gun, I was gonna buy supplies with some of that money.”
“Tell you what,” Reuben said, “you don’t worry about what you owe for tonight. I’ll give you credit for whatever you eat or drink and I’ll pay for any transaction you have with either of the girls. How’s that? Maybe we’ll make it right when we get to horse tradin’ in the mornin’.”
“That’s more than fair,” Pete allowed. “I always knew you was an honorable outlaw. We’ll talk trade in the mornin’. Right now, I’d best go take care of my horses.”
“Reckon who got that fifty dollars?” Riley asked after Pete went back outside. “Everybody looked through all that stuff they were carryin’ on their packhorse. It coulda been anybody.”
“I weren’t lyin’ when I said I looked in that bag of cartridges,” Reuben said. “Maybe he was right when he said Ormond musta got it. Most likely took it before they ever got here.”
Out behind the church, Pete pulled the saddle off the gray and the packsaddle off the roan, then he turned the two horses out to graze with the few other horses there at the present time. He congratulated himself again for tearing another page out of Malcolm Hazzard’s book. He never hid any money in an ammunition bag that he could remember, but he would enjoy himself at Reuben’s expense for one night before moving on. He was not really concerned about the law tonight. He figured there hadn’t been enough time for them to get on his trail. When he went back inside, he planned to ask when Reuben expected to see Walt again.
“I expect he’ll show up around here in the mornin’,” Reuben said when Pete asked him the question. “We ain’t seen him since the night after that business at Buzzard’s Bluff. And he usually stops by every two or three days, just to see who mighta turned up here. He likes to keep close watch over who comes and goes here at the church.”
“Well, I hope he does,” Pete said. “I’d like to hear what happened outside the front door of the jail that night.”
* * *
By the time breakfast was over the next morning, there was no sign of Walt Murphy, much to Pete’s disappointment. But he had some horse trading to do with Reuben to take care of, so they walked out to the corral and Reuben took a good look at the gray Pete wanted to trade. “I gotta admit, I’m tryin’ to find the real reason you’re lookin’ to trade this horse, but I can’t find anything wrong with him,” Reuben finally conceded.
“I wouldn’t try to pull nothin’ on you, Reuben. Like I told you, this horse belonged to a U.S. deputy marshal, and those fellers usually ride a good horse. I rode him hard all the way from Madisonville. He never balked once, and I never had occasion to cuss him. I would keep him for myself if I could change his color. But it’s my bad luck that so many people saw me ride off on that gray, and your good fortune tha
t I have to trade him.”
“I believe you’re shootin’ straight with me,” Reuben replied. “You can see what I’ve got to trade here in the corral. Those two in the corner, the sorrel and the blue roan, belong to Riley. The rest of ’em are mine, except that brown over there. That’s the packhorse you left here when you and Ormond took off. You look over the others and tell me which one you wanna look at.”
“First, I wanna remind you, me and Ormond wasn’t plannin’ to take off that night. We was took off by that dry-gulchin’ Ben Savage. We just thought we had too much money to leave layin’ around while we was out lookin’ for our horses. And I’ll admit, we weren’t sure you and the other boys didn’t have somethin’ to do with our horses missin’, just so you could take a look in our saddlebags. That said, why don’t you keep that packhorse I left here and I’ll just keep the one I borrowed from that deputy in Madisonville? And that’ll take care of what I owe you for last night and today, all right?”
“Fair enough,” Reuben answered, “and you take your pick of my horses and we’ll swap even.”
“That sounds like a fair-enough deal to me,” Pete said. He watched the horses for a few minutes longer before declaring, “That red dun looks like a sound horse to me.”
“If it was me, I’d take a look at that chestnut.” The voice came from behind to surprise them. “Lester used to think that was his pa’s best horse.” They turned to meet Walt Murphy as he walked up to the corral. They had not seen him come up to the front of the church. “Riley said you two was out around back horse tradin’,” Walt went on.
“He was gonna be my second choice to look at,” Pete responded, noticing that the mention of his son brought an instant frown to Reuben’s face.
“I ain’t surprised you’re lookin’ to trade horses,” Walt said, “but I am surprised to see you back here. Tell you the truth, I thought you were most likely dead, you and ol’ Ormond, too. Then, I swear, this mornin’ I got a telegram that said to be on the lookout for Pete Russell, escaped prisoner, killed two deputy marshals, ridin’ a gray horse. Never figured I’d ever see the likes of you again. Thought you’d be headin’ for Indian Territory.”
A slow smile spread across Pete’s face. Walt had already received notification, as had all the other town sheriffs in the area. But he didn’t say anything about the missing bank money. He wondered if the sheriff was playing a little game with him, or if there had been no mention of the money. “After that night in Buzzard’s Bluff, when you and the boys came to break me and Ormond outta jail, I figured you mighta headed for Injun Territory.”
“That was a bad deal, all right,” Walt replied. “They were set up, waitin’ for us. Ben Savage was waitin’ for Booth and Flynn when they walked into the Lost Coyote. Maybe the rest of it was my fault because Charlie and Temple were ready to run, but I made ’em go back with me to try to get you and Ormond outta there. But they had that jail set up in ambush, too. Charlie and Temple both went down right away, leavin’ me by myself to try to get to you. I tried, but I found out I couldn’t, so I had to shoot my way outta there.”
“Is that what happened?” Pete asked. “It ain’t exactly the way the sheriff and Savage told it to me, after Savage shot Ormond. They said they shot Charlie and Temple when they broke in the front door, and all they saw of you was your horse hightailin’ it outta town.”
Walt matched Pete’s grin with one of his own. “Well, now, that’s just what they would likely say, ain’t it? I expect you and Reuben and Riley oughta be damn glad I was able to get away from there without being recognized. It mighta been the end of me, but it’da been the end of the hideout here at the church, too.” He looked over at Reuben. “That wouldn’ta been too good, would it, Reuben?” Then he quickly turned his attention back to Pete. “Since you killed them two deputies and got away on one of ’em’s gray and his packhorse, too, I hope it was carryin’ all the bank money.”
His comment brought a laugh and a grunt from Pete and he replied. “His saddle and the one that came off the packhorse are layin’ inside the back door of the church. You’re welcome to all the money you find in ’em.”
Reuben spoke up then. “I had to lend him a little credit to pay for his supper,” he declared. “That’s why we needed to strike a deal on a horse trade.”
“Well, I’m glad to see you got away from them deputies,” Walt said to Pete. “I expect you just missed bein’ the main guest at a necktie party for killin’ that bank guard in Giddings.”
“It was Malcolm who shot that bank guard in Giddings,” Pete responded at once.
Walt smiled. “That don’t make much difference now, does it? You sure as hell shot them two deputies in Madisonville and there were plenty of witnesses to say you done it. How long you figurin’ on hangin’ around here at the church?”
“I don’t know,” Pete answered. He had no intention of telling Walt exactly when he was going. He was still not sure if Walt knew he had the money, or if he was still just fishing in hopes of finding out. “Not long, that’s for sure,” he said. “There’s bound to be some folks lookin’ for me pretty quick.”
“I think you’re smart not to hang around here,” Walt said. “There’s too many folks that know about the church now. Ben Savage is one of ’em.”
“I hope to hell Ben Savage does show up here,” Reuben interrupted. “It’d be the last place he ever set foot on.”
“That’s right, Reuben,” Walt responded, “and I’d like to help you welcome him. But I’m afraid he wouldn’t come alone, so Pete best not be here if that happens.” Back to Pete then, he suggested, “If you’re wantin’ to lay low for a day or two longer while you decide where you’re headin’, I know one place where nobody would look for you.” When he thought he saw a spark of curiosity in Pete’s eyes, he went on, “My place.” When the spark immediately went out, he hurried to explain. “I ain’t talkin’ about my jail. I’m talkin’ about my cabin. Reuben’ll tell ya. I’ve got a little cabin about a mile upriver from town. Ain’t nobody gonna be lookin’ for you there.”
“I swear, Walt, you’d do that for me?” Pete asked, hoping not to sound too facetious. “You bein’ a sheriff and all, I wouldn’t wanna put you in a position to lose everything, if the marshals find out you helped me.” Walt shrugged, as if it was of no concern to him. “I’ll tell you what,” Pete continued, “I’ll decide in the mornin’ what I’m gonna do. I’ll let you know then, all right?”
“Whatever you say,” Walt answered. “Which one of the horses you gonna take?”
“I’m gonna pick the red dun I think.” He looked at Reuben, Reuben nodded his okay, and the deal was struck. He ain’t sure Pete thought, still smiling at Walt. He thinks I’ve got the money, but he’s not sure. “I’ll throw my saddle on him and take him for a little get-acquainted ride, so he’ll be ready to go tomorrow.”
“I’m gonna drink up a little bit of Reuben’s coffee, then I expect I’d best get back to town, so my deputy don’t get the idea he can take care of the town all by himself.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Pete said. “I could drink another cup, myself.”
CHAPTER 14
“That’s what I thought, you lyin’ sack of dung,” Walt Murphy muttered aloud when he saw the red dun gelding, with Pete Russell on his back, leave the small barn behind the church at a casual lope. Leading a packhorse after him, he headed down the path to the road. “Wait till tomorrow, are you? I swear, it’s gettin’ to where you can’t find an outlaw you can trust. Now we’ll see where you hid that money. And when we find it, we’ll divide it all up between the devil and me. Maybe by now there’s a reward posted for you dead or alive. That’ll add a little more to the pot. Too bad the bank money ain’t ever gonna be found.” He climbed aboard the buckskin gelding, and when Pete disappeared around the last bend before reaching the Waco road, Walt came out of the trees on the ridge above the church. At a lope, he rode down to the path and pulled up at the bend before following Pete. After taking a look to
ward the Waco road and spotting Pete heading east on it, he held the buckskin back to let him get out of sight. As soon as he thought he was far enough behind to keep from being spotted, he set out on the road, looking right away for fresh tracks. When he was sure they were the tracks just made by Pete’s horses, he knew he could tail him without being seen.
He had not ridden a mile when he came to the spot where the road crossed the creek. Checking the road up ahead, there was no one in sight, so he rode on across the creek, but pulled up abruptly when he discovered no tracks on the other side. His instant reaction was to look quickly right and left, fearing he had ridden into an ambush and expecting a shot at any second. He released his breath then, relieved that he had not done what he had momentarily feared. Pete had taken to the water. Upstream or down? That was to be decided next. So he looked in both directions and decided on upstream because the growth of trees and shrubs looked heavier up that way. Before he turned the buckskin’s head, he heard the voice behind him. “Where you headin’, Walt? Waco’s back the other way.”
“Damn, Pete, I didn’t expect to run into you,” Walt responded, trying to act totally surprised but not alarmed. “I get over this way once in a while when I come over to visit Reuben. There used to be a bunch of cattle rustlers that liked to camp on this creek. I ran ’em out, and I like to keep an eye on the place to make sure they ain’t come back. What are you doin’? Tryin’ out that dun you just traded for? I don’t think you have to worry. You got a good horse.” He looked beyond him at the red dun and the packhorse, standing in the trees on the other side of the creek and wondered how Pete got behind him. He was evidently expecting to be followed. “You gonna ride over and look at my place on the river tomorrow, like we talked about?”
The Devil's Boneyard Page 16
