[Texas Rangers 05] - Texas Vendetta (8 page)

Farley arose from his blankets. He gripped Andy’s shoulder tightly enough to hurt. “They’ll cut you to ribbons, and for what? Jayce is goin’ to die anyway. If he doesn’t do it tonight, he’ll do it when the trial is over. Leave it alone.”

“I can’t.”

“Listen to me, Badger Boy. Even if you are half Indian, you’re worth more than Jayce Landon.”

Andy thought that was an amazing admission for Farley. He could not think of an adequate response. “Like the man said, we’re supposed to keep the peace.”

“Ain’t goin’ to be peace in this town till they’ve killed enough of one another that they gag on the blood. You’d best look out for your own skin.”

“What’ll the captain say if we tell him we delivered Jayce and then stood by while a mob shot him to pieces?” Andy cradled the rifle across his left arm and walked out of the stable into the darkness.

The jail was a little more than a block away. He had a strong feeling of being watched, but he could see no one. He heard a horse somewhere behind the buildings, moving into a slow lope.

He pondered whether he should go inside the jail or wait for the Hoppers in front of it. He had heard of mobs burning a jail to get a prisoner. In such an event he could do little from inside. Besides, the jailer was in on the deal. He would probably do whatever he could to put Andy out of the way. He decided to take a stand outside, blocking the door.

The street remained quiet for a while. Andy began to wonder if the hostler’s information was overblown. People sometimes made bold talk but did not have the stomach to follow through. Then he saw several men moving up the street toward him. He tightened his grip on the rifle. Though he could not distinguish the faces, he sensed that these were of the Hopper clan.

Sternly he said, “That’s close enough.”

A gruff voice shouted, “Step out of the way, Ranger.”

Andy thought the voice sounded like Big’un’s. He said, “I’m tellin’ you to disperse.”

The men moved closer but stopped when Andy leveled his rifle on them. Big’un declared, “You’ve got no jurisdiction here. You finished your job when you brought Jayce in.”

Andy’s throat was too tight for a reply. He hoped silence was more threatening than anything he might say. The men huddled, murmuring among themselves. Several more came up the street, joining them. By Andy’s rough count there were fifteen, perhaps more.

One man edged beyond Big’un and the others. He said, “You’re just a shirttail kid. You won’t really shoot us.” He paused a moment, gauging Andy’s reaction, then moved forward again with confidence in his step.

Andy aimed the rifle, but he could not bring himself to squeeze the trigger. The blood rose warm in his face.

He sensed a movement on the street. A pistol blazed, and the man went down. He gripped his leg and squalled in pain.

Farley’s voice was deadly. “Next shot goes in somebody’s gullet.” He fired again, kicking up dust in front of the mob.

Andy expelled a pent-up breath. Farley walked up and joined him in front of the door. His stern gaze never left the Hoppers as he muttered, “The graveyards are full of people who wouldn’t pull the trigger.”

“I tried. I just couldn’t.”

The wounded man lay on his back, gripping his bleeding leg. He kept hollering.

Farley said with contempt, “Listen to that brave son of a bitch, squealin’ like a pig stuck under a gate.”

Members of the mob conferred among themselves. Big’un shouted, “You’re protectin’ a murderer.”

Farley said, “He ain’t been tried yet.”

“We come here to give him all the trial he needs.”

Farley muttered, “If they rush us, shoot the foremost. That’d be the one called Big’un. If that doesn’t stop them, shoot another.”

“You’d do that for Jayce Landon?”

“No, for us. Right this minute we’re in worse danger than he is.”

Big’un shouted, “You Rangers can’t stay here forever. We can wait.”

Farley pointed the pistol at him. “You’ll have to. Now you-all had better scatter because in one minute I’m goin’ to shoot every man I can see.” He held up his watch so he could read it in the moonlight.

The men lingered a little, then began to peel away. Some, like Big’un, shouted threats back over their shoulders, but soon all had retreated beyond sight, carrying their wounded man with them.

Farley said, “You have to talk to people in a way they understand, then be ready to back up what you tell them. Remember that and you’ll live longer.”

Andy shuddered. “You were really set to kill somebody.”

“I would, if there’d been a brave man amongst them. But after one shot everybody started thinkin’ about home and mother. That’s generally the way.”

“You told me at the stable that you wasn’t comin’.”

“I didn’t intend to. I don’t give a damn about Jayce Landon, but I didn’t want to have to tell the captain I stood back and let a mob kill a Ranger. Even an ignorant Comanche Indian.”

A stubborn streak would not allow Andy to show his pleasure. He had taken too much abuse from Farley to grant him the satisfaction. He looked down the dark, empty street. “I don’t understand why none of the Landon bunch was here. Looks like they’d have turned out to protect Jayce.”

“That does strike me a little peculiar. It goes to show that both sides are crazy.”

After they had watched for ten or fifteen minutes Farley said, “I don’t think they’ll be comin’ back for a while. I want to do some Dutch talkin’ to that jailer.”

Andy was not surprised to find that the front door had been left unlocked. He said, “I guess the jailer wanted to make it easy for them. All they had to do was walk in.”

Inside, he locked and barred the door in case some of the Hopper people drank enough courage to come back. He did not see the jailer. Farley walked through the door that led back to the cells. He called, “Come here, Badger Boy. This is a sight to tell your children about if you live long enough to have any.”

The jailer was handcuffed to the bars of a cell. The cell door was open. Jayce was gone.

Farley snickered at the jailer. “Now ain’t you a pretty sight? How did you get yourself into this fix?”

The man’s eyes were downcast. “Jayce has escaped.”

“I figured that out for myself. What did you do, go to sleep on the job?”

“No such of a thing. The sheriff went to see about a fight. Soon as he was gone, Jayce pulled a gun on me. Just a little derringer, but it could kill a man.”

Farley gave Andy a speculative glance. Jayce hadn’t had a gun on him when the Rangers brought him into town.

Andy did not have to think about it long. He remembered how Jayce’s wife rushed up and hugged him. He would wager a month’s pay that she stuck it inside his shirt during the moment of confusion.

He chose not to mention it. The woman had misfortune enough just by being Jayce’s wife.

The jailer wailed, “Are you-all goin’ to get me out of this mess?”

Farley came dangerously near smiling. “We ain’t got the key.”

“Look in the top desk drawer out yonder.”

Andy rummaged around and found it. Freed, the jailer rubbed his wrist, raw from straining against the handcuff. “I think Jayce went out the back door. I heard a horse lope away. Some of his kin must’ve been waitin’ out there.”

Farley grunted. “So now he’s took to the tulies.”

The jailer wailed, “If the sheriff doesn’t murder me, my kinfolks will.”

“I’ve got half a mind to do it myself. On account of you, me and Pickard made a long ride for nothin’. And that mob out yonder could’ve killed us.”

“You got to tell them it wasn’t my fault.”

Andy suggested, “Might be a good idea if we left town. They’re liable to think we had a hand in this.”

“Run away?” Farley took offense at the suggestion. “Last time I ran from anybody it was the state police. I swore I’d never run again. No, we’ll stay and tell them how it was. Next time maybe they’ll hire better help.”

Someone began beating against the front door and shouting for the jailer to open it. The jailer appeared about to wilt. “Oh God, that’s the judge.”

Andy assumed that thwarted mob members had carried their frustration to the Hopper family leader.

Farley said, “Just as well let him in. But nobody else. This place could get crowded in a hurry.”

Reluctantly Andy slid back the bar and opened the door just enough for Judge Hopper to enter. Several men were with him, but Andy pushed the door shut and barred it before any of them could bully their way in. Big’un shouted threats from outside.

Judd Hopper was a tall, angular man with gray chin whiskers and angry eyes that cut to the quick. “What are you Rangers doing here? Protecting the prisoner is the sheriff’s responsibility.”

Farley did not waver under the tirade. “I’m glad you said that. I think your jailkeeper has got a little news for you.”

The jailer hung his head. His voice was little more than a thin squeak. “Jayce is gone.”

“Gone?” The judge took long strides into the back room. His face reddened as he saw the open cell door and absorbed the full import of Landon’s escape. He whirled around, jabbing an arthritic finger at Andy and Farley. “You-all turned him loose. I’ll send you both to the pen.”

Farley gripped the jailer’s wrist so hard that the man cried out. “Tell him the rest before I twist your arm off and beat you to death with it.”

Defensively the jailer explained that Landon had produced a pistol and forced him to unlock the cell. “Next thing I knowed he had me handcuffed to the bars. I hollered, but nobody heard me. Wasn’t nothin’ I could do.”

The judge fumed. “I wish he’d killed you. I guess you know you’re fired. You’ll be lucky if some of my nephews don’t flay the hide off of you. How did he get ahold of a pistol?”

Andy and Farley stood silent. The jailer spoke in a subdued voice. “We didn’t make him take his boots off. Maybe he had it in one of them.”

The judge slammed the cell door shut and then shook it in rage, gripping the bars tightly enough to turn his knuckles white. “I’ll make somebody wish he was in the fires of hell instead of in Hopper’s Crossing.”

Farley beckoned to Andy. “I don’t see nothin’ more for us to do here.”

Hopper demanded, “You’re goin’ to help us hunt him down, aren’t you?”

Farley showed his disdain. “Ain’t our fault you-all couldn’t hold him. Our assignment was to deliver him to the sheriff. We done that, so now we’re leavin’.”

Andy slid back the bar and opened the door. As he and Farley left, a dozen Hopper partisans rushed in, bumping one another against the door in their haste.

Andy said, “The judge is liable to tell them it was our fault. Anything to shift the blame. We better get away from here.”

“We ain’t runnin’. We’re walkin’. We’ll show this bunch we ain’t afraid of nobody.”

“Maybe you’re not, but I am.”

Farley set a slow and deliberate pace toward the wagon yard. They had not gone far before Andy heard someone shout a curse. The voice sounded like Big’un’s. A shot was fired. Farley spun half-around, grabbing his right side.

A man stood in lamplight that spilled through the open jailhouse door. He held a pistol. Andy raised his rifle and made a quick shot. The man went down, twisting in the dirt.

Farley swore under his breath. Andy asked, “How bad are you hit?”

“I don’t know. It hurts like almighty hell.”

“We’d better keep movin’. They didn’t get to kill Jayce Landon, and they’re fired up to kill somebody.”

Andy took Farley’s left arm to give him support. At the wagon yard he found the stableman standing in the open front doors, staring into the dark street. “Heard some shootin’. What …” He seemed to lose his voice when Andy and Farley came into the lantern’s light and he saw Farley’s bloody shirt.

Andy said, “Saddle our horses for us and throw our pack on that mule. Be quick.” He helped Farley to a straight wooden chair and brought the lantern up for a close look. The bullet had struck high up and from behind. “Can you move your arm?”

Farley raised it a little.

Andy said, “Could’ve busted some of your ribs. You’re bleedin’ like a stuck hog.”

Andy took out his handkerchief and pressed it against the wound. “Feel like you can sit in the saddle?”

“I don’t see I’ve got much choice. Them crazy Hoppers’ll be lookin’ to finish the job.”

The stableman brought their horses and the mule. “If I was you-all—”

Andy interrupted. “Is there a doctor in this town?”

“There is, but you’ll be needin’ an undertaker instead if you’ve got yourselves in Dutch with them Hoppers.”

The stableman reluctantly gave directions, then helped Andy boost Farley into the saddle. Andy found the doctor’s house, but he saw that several of the Hopper people were already there. The doctor would be treating the man Farley had shot. The one Andy had shot would probably be brought along shortly.

He said, “We’d better not stop here.”

Farley nodded in painful agreement. “Doctor may be one of them Hoppers anyway. Whole town seems to be infested with them.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to tough it out for a while.”

Farley grumbled under his breath, “Badger Boy, you’re a damned Jonah. You’ll get me killed yet.”