Kill Crazy (13 page)

“You son of a bitch!” Harper shouted. Jumping up, he jerked his pistol from his holster and pulled the trigger. The hammer fell on an empty chamber.

“What the hell?” he said. Raising the pistol as a club he came toward Duff, and, once again, Duff laid him out on the floor, this time knocking out a couple of teeth in the process. Harper went down again.

“Have you come up with any idea of what to do with him?” Duff asked.

“I suppose you could just keep knocking him out,” Biff said with a chuckle.

“I think I'll just tie his carcass belly down across his saddle, take him about five miles out of town, and drop him off,” Duff suggested.

He picked Harper up, threw him over his shoulder and took him outside, followed by everyone who was in the saloon at the time. Those who were on the street soon joined the saloon patrons.

“Who's the fella that Duff just laid across the saddle like that?” one of the street people asked.

“That's Harper,” Schumacher said.

“Harper what? Only Harper I know is a gunfighter.”

“This is that Harper.”

“What happened to him? Is he dead?”

“No, he ain't dead, but he's goin' to be some pissed with he comes to. What happened is Duff MacCallister come up behind him and dropped him like a poleaxed steer,” Schumacher said.

“Why did he do that?”

You'll have to ask MacCallister that.”

Harper began to regain consciousness as Duff was tying him across the saddle.

“Here! What the hell is going on?” Harper demanded.

“We're going to take a ride,” Duff said, mounting Sky, then taking the reins to Harper's horse and leading him out of town.

Most of the townspeople followed the two men down the street, laughing and calling out to Harper.

“Harper, I thought you were a gunfighter!”

“Ha, Harper, tell me, how does the belly of your horse look?”

“You'll regret this, MacCallister! I'm going to kill you, first chance I get!”

Marshal Ferrell stepped out into the street in front of Duff then, and held up his hand.

“Hold up, Duff,” he called. “Didn't I just hear him say he was going to kill you?”

“You damn right I'm goin' to kill this son of a bitch!” Harper shouted angrily.

“Well now, Mr. Harper, you have just talked yourself into jail for threatening murder. Bring him over to the jail, if you would, Duff.”

“Aye, the jail is as good a place as any for him,” Duff replied.

Chapter Eighteen

The little town of Bordeaux, Wyoming, was on the Chugwater Creek in Laramie County, about fifteen miles north of the town of Chugwater. The land immediately around Bordeaux was arid and too poor for farming or ranching. Many tried though, and a few even managed to eke out a meager existence. There were some who searched for gold or silver, and though little of those commodities were found, enough nuggets turned up to hold out tantalizing prospects, thus the hunt continued.

Despite the bleakness of its agricultural and mining prospects, Bordeaux was, nevertheless, a bustling town. It saw a surprising amount of money flow through its half a dozen saloons, whorehouses, gaming establishments, and cafés.

Bordeaux supported a most unusual enterprise. Outlaws who were on the run often wound up in Bordeaux. And since many of those same outlaws were fleeing from bank robberies or other sources of ill-gotten gains, money was in abundance. Bordeaux existed to provide a safe haven from those on the run, and it found the rather unique venture to be most profitable.

Bordeaux had a town marshal and a deputy. The marshal was C.F. Cline, a man of average size, but with a face that was scarred from the pox he had as a child. His unattractiveness was exacerbated by a scar that caused his upper lip to be misshapen. One wall in the marshal's office was decorated with wanted posters, but they were all for show. Neither Marshal Cline nor his deputy had ever made any attempt to apprehend any of the men on the wanted posters, nor did they intend to. The way that Cline explained it, he had been hired by the people of Bordeaux to keep the peace in Bordeaux.

Whatever happened outside Bordeaux was none of his business. If a man who had a price on his head in Colorado, or the Dakota territories, or even anywhere in Wyoming, happened to pass through Bordeaux, he was just as welcome as any other traveler, so long as he didn't disturb the peace in Bordeaux. In addition, Cline had a very loose definition of disturbing the peace.

The outlaws were very aware of Marshal Cline's policy toward wanted men, so they tended to behave while in his town and around him. In fact, some of them even became friends with him and the Marshal's “Rogues' Gallery” became somewhat well known throughout the West for a most unique reason. Almost three-quarters of the wanted posters on the wall in the sheriff's office were autographed by the very outlaw whose face graced the dodger.

Johnny, Short, Evans, and Calhoun were in Bordeaux, having come there from Chugwater. They'd come for several reasons: one, because it was a place of refuge for them; two, because here they could spend some of the money stolen from the bank; and finally, because here they would meet up with Jim and Leroy Blunt. Ike Thomas had already joined them.

“I've taken one more man into our group,” Johnny said as the five men gathered around a table in the back of Red Eye Saloon. “He'll be here soon as he takes care of a little job I've give him to do.”

“Who is that?” Ike asked.

“Harper.”

“Are you talking about the gunfighter?” Ike Thomas asked.

“Yeah.”

“He ain't comin'.”

“What do you mean, he ain't comin'?”

“He's in jail down in Chugwater.”

Johnny smiled. “He killed MacCallister, did he? Well, he knew the chance he was takin'.”

“No, he didn't kill 'im. He threatened to kill him, and the marshal throw'd him in jail.”

“He threatened to kill him? Why would he do a dumb thing like that?

Ike shrugged. “Beats the hell out of me. But what I heard was that MacCallister had Harper tied, belly down, on his saddle, leading him out of town. Ever'one in town was laughin' at Harper and he got mad and yelled out that he was goin' to kill MacCallister. The marshal heard him, and, like I said, throw'd him in jail.”

“I thought Harper was supposed to be good,” Short said. “How did MacCallister get him belly down on the saddle?”

“I don't know,” Ike said. “I never heard the tellin' o' that part of the story.

“Hell, if he's that dumb, we're probably just as well off without him,” Calhoun suggested.

Al Short smiled then, and stood up. “Here comes my two friends, Jim and Leroy.” He waved them over, then introduced them all around.

Leroy was short and wide, with powerful shoulders, no neck and no hair so that he somewhat resembled a cannon ball. Jim, on the other hand, was tall and thin. They bore little resemblance to each other, for all that they were brothers.

“Al said to come join you folks. What you got in mind?” Jim asked.

“Money,” Johnny answered. “I've got money in mind.”

“How much money?” Jim asked. “The reason I ask is, Al said somethin' about two hundred fifty dollars.”

“Apiece,” Leroy added.

“To start with. But once we finish this job, if you boys want to stay on, there will be other jobs that make lots more money.”

“He's tellin' the truth, boys. I can testify to that,” Short said.

“Are you boys interested?”

Leroy smiled. “Hell yes, I'm interested.”

“Me too,” Jim added. “But I'm wonderin' what this first job is that you have planned.”

“There's a couple of men in jail down in Chugwater. I want to get them out.”

“Why?”

“Because they were working for me,” Johnny said. “And I like to take care of them that works for me. If you two was workin' for me and you got caught and put in jail, wouldn't you like for me to get you out?”

“Besides which, one of 'em is his brother,” Short said.

“You got a plan? 'Cause I ain't exactly too keen on attackin' a jail head on,” Leroy said.

“Don't worry, that ain't nothin' near what I got in mind.”

“Look here,” Jim said. “This two hundred and fifty dollars you was talkin' about. We ain't goin' to have to wait 'til you brother is out of jail afore you pay that, are we?”

Johnny smiled, then reached down into his pocket and pulled out two little packets of bills, each packet bound by a piece of twine. He handed a packet to each of the two men.

“Here is the two hundred fifty dollars, right now,” he said. “And like I said, after this, there will be more money. A lot more money.”

Jim and Leroy smiled broadly upon receipt of the money. “We ain't goin' to get started right away, are we?” Leroy asked. “The reason I ask is, I ain't had me this much money in two or three years maybe. I'd like a little time to enjoy it.”

“You'll have a little time to enjoy it,” Johnny said. “I'm goin' to send Ike back down to Chugwater to take a look around for us.”

“What are you sendin' Ike for?” Evans asked. “Hell, why don't you send me?”

“We've already spent too much time there now. Someone might see you and start putting things together.”

 

 

Back at Sky Meadow, Duff and Elmer were engaged in conversation when Elmer squinted as he noticed a man on horseback on the road from Chugwater. “That's Willie Pierce, ain't it?” he asked, pointing toward the rider.

“Aye,” Duff replied. “I saw him when he crossed the stream.”

“What do you think the deputy wants out here?”

“Wouldn't it be nice now, if he was coming for to tell us that they've recovered the money?”

“Yeah, but somehow I got the idea that he ain't comin' for that,” Elmer said. “ 'Cause if he was, I figure he'd be comin' at a gallop, all a-whoopin' and a-hollerin' and takin' on, so.”

“Aye, I think you are right,” Duff said.

The two men watched as the deputy approached, never moving faster than a rather quick lope until he reached the gate that led into the compound. There, he urged his horse into a trot.

“Good morning, Deputy Pierce,” Duff said. “Would you be for steppin' down and havin' a wee bit of tea, with us now? Or coffee if you prefer?”

“I wish I could, Mr. MacCallister, but the marshal told me to be gettin' on back. That's what he told me. ‘Deliver the message to Mr. MacCallister, then come on back here,' he told me.”

“All right,” Duff said. “What is the message?”

“Justice of the Peace Norton is goin' to have the preliminary hearin' first thing tomorrow mornin', and Marshal Ferrell wants all the witnesses to stay at the Antlers Hotel tonight, just so's he can sort of keep an eye on things.”

“Oh? And would the good marshal be havin' any special reason for such a request?” Duff asked.

“No, sir, nothin' particular, and he didn't tell me to bring you in neither, so I reckon if you say you don't want to come in then I'll just go back and tell him, you said no.”

“There's no need for that. I'll come in if that's what the marshal wants.”

“Yes, sir. He said it would only be 'til after the preliminary hearing. Of course, Justice of the Peace Norton, he ain't really a judge,” Pierce said. “Not so's he can actual hold a trial 'n' all. He is a justice of the peace, so 'bout the only thing he can do is hold a hearin' to see if a fella needs to go to a higher court, and that's what he's fixin' to do.”

“All right,” Duff said, taking the last swallow of his tea. “Let me get my horse saddled, and I'll go back with you.”

“Yes, sir, that's pretty much what the marshal was hopin' you'd do.”

“Don't worry none about the ranch,” Elmer said. “I'll look after things while you're in town.”

“I'll nae be worryin' with you here,” Duff called back over his shoulder as he started toward the stable.

 

 

When Duff and Deputy Pierce reached town, they went straight to the Antlers Hotel. Cindy Boyce and Bernie Caldwell were waiting with Deputy Mullins in the lobby.

“Go ahead 'n' get signed in, Mr. MacCallister,” Deputy Pierce said. “Don't worry, the court will pay for your hotel room.”

“And the court is taking us out to dinner tonight too,” Cindy said enthusiastically. “Isn't it exciting?”

“No,” Caldwell answered. “I would much prefer to be home with my wife and children. Besides, I don't consider being a possible target of those murderers exciting in the least.”

Duff signed the guest register, then came back to the lobby to join the others. Cindy made a point to move so that she was as close to him as she could get.

“Here, I just met you, and already you are taking me out to dinner,” she said, smiling flirtatiously at Duff.

“No, ma'am. The city of Chugwater is taking you out to dinner,” Duff corrected.

“It's almost the same thing though, isn't it?” Cindy said. “I mean, we will be eating together.”

When Marshal Ferrell arrived a few minutes later, he greeted Duff and the others. “Folks, I'm sorry about this, but I just think it is prudent to take precautions. So if you're all ready, we'll go have our dinner now, the city's treat.”

 

 

Ike Thomas was enjoying his two-hundred-and-fifty-dollar windfall. He spent the entire afternoon with one of the girls at the Wild Hog. He played cards for a while, and now he was at the City Café, enjoying a dinner of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, and biscuits. He was just about finished with his dinner when he saw Marshal Ferrell, his deputy, and two men and a woman come in.

“Mr. Lambert,” he heard the marshal say to the owner. “Give these good people anything they ask for. The city will be paying for it.”

“The city?” Lambert replied, curious by the statement.

“Yes, indeed. These are our witnesses to the bank holdup. The city is feeding them tonight, and putting them up in the hotel so they will be handy for the preliminary hearing tomorrow.”

Norman Lambert smiled at the potential size of the meal order. “Mr. Collier,” he said, summoning his maître d'.

“Yes, sir?” Collier replied, responding to the summons.

“Take these nice folks back to our New York room and seat them at the banquet table.”

“Yes, sir,” Collier replied.

Lambert looked at Duff and the others. “I am sure you will find something on our menu that you will enjoy.”

 

 

The banquet table was in the New York room, which wasn't really a completely separate room, but rather an alcove from the main dining room. Here, the banquet table was always preset with china, silver, and crystal, and a gleaming chandelier hung over the middle . . . the dangling crystals acting as prisms to glisten in many colors.

“I'll have a Caesar salad, shrimp cocktail, steak, potatoes, and champagne,” Cindy said after perusing the menu.

“Yes, ma'am,” Collier replied.

“Marshal, are you sure the city is goin' to pay for all this?” Deputy Pierce asked. “She just ordered the most expensive things on the menu.”

“The mayor assured me that the city would,” Marshal Ferrell replied.

The orders given by Duff and Caldwell were considerably more modest. Even though the mayor had told Marshal Ferrell that the city would pay for everything, Ferrell breathed a sigh of relief that the orders of the two men had not been as extravagant as Cindy's.

Ferrell and Pierce joined them, also at the city's expense. This was a treat for Pierce, who rarely got to eat at a place this fancy.

 

 

“He is at the City Café right now,” Vi told Meagan.

“I wonder why he came to town without telling me?”

“I don't think this is a social call. He's having dinner with Marshal Ferrell, Deputy Pierce, Mr. Caldwell, and that saloon girl from Fiddler's Green.”