17
For the next week or so, Slocum moped around, wishing that something would happen and longing for the time Holbrook would be up and about again. He picked up two more of the mob members and locked them up. The ones he had locked up first were getting very restless. Mostly he stayed away from the jail because of the noise. And they were beginning to smell a bit raunchy, too. He was sitting in Maudie’s place one afternoon drinking coffee and visiting with Maudie when a young man came in.
“They told me that I’d find you here,” he said to Slocum.
“What can I do for you?”
“I got a message from Geordie Gordon and his brother Pete.”
“I don’t believe I know them,” said Slocum.
“Well, they was part of that lynch mob,” the young man said. “In fact, I think they’re the only ones you ain’t got in jail already.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, what’s the message?”
“They said they was tired of hiding out from you. They said if you want them, you can find them at the old Meadows place. They’ll be waiting.”
“Yeah? When?”
“They’re out there now.”
“Is that it?”
“Yes, sir. That’s it. Except for one thing. They don’t mean to be brought in alive.”
“We’ll see about that,” said Slocum. The young man left and Slocum finished up his coffee. He grabbed his hat and stood up.
“You going after them?” asked Maudie.
“That’s right.”
“What’s the point? You said yourself no jury will ever convict those men.”
“But they’re going to spend some time in jail,” Slocum said, “and they’re going to face a jury.”
“If they don’t mean to be brought in—”
“That’s their choice,” Slocum said. “I’m going out there to arrest them. If they decide to fight it out, I can’t help that.”
He got directions to the Meadows place, an abandoned farm-stead, and went to the stable to saddle up his horse. In a few minutes, he was on his way. He wore his Colt, and his Winchester was in the saddle boot. It was a ride of about five miles, most of it on the open road, but when he reached the fallen down gate to the lane that led up to the old house, he found the road tree-lined. He stopped at the gate and studied the trees for a time. He could see no one and detect no movement, but someone could have been hidden away in there waiting to shoot him from ambush. The two men he was after were ordinary citizens. He didn’t really expect an ambush, but one never knew. He dismounted, took out his Winchester and slapped his horse on the rump.
“Go on, big fellow,” he said. The Appaloosa trotted down the lane toward the house. Slocum moved into the trees. He worked his way slowly from tree to tree, keeping his eyes open for any surprises. By the time he had reached the trees nearest the house, he had found none. The Appaloosa stopped not far from the house. Slocum watched the door and the front windows. As he watched, he saw the ragged curtain on one of the front windows move aside just enough to allow someone to peep outside. At least one of them was in there all right.
“Hey, in there. You Gordons,” Slocum yelled. There was no answer. “I know you’re in there. I got your message. Come on out and there won’t be no trouble.”
“We ain’t going to jail,” came the answer.
“You’re going back to town with me one way or the other.”
“Come and get us then.”
There was no easy way to the house. The space between the trees and the house was all clear, and the men inside would have a good view of him if he tried to make a run across there. And he had no target to shoot at. The men were in the house, but he couldn’t see them. He had to start some action somehow. He looked around on the ground until he spotted a fist-sized rock. Leaning his Winchester against a tree trunk, he picked up the rock and hefted it a time or two. He decided that it would do just fine. Taking the rock in his right hand, he reared back and tossed it with all his might. It was a good throw, crashing through the front window on the left of the door, shattering the glass. Almost immediately there were shots from inside the house. None of them came too close to Slocum. Even so, he pressed his back against the far side of a tree trunk. He waited till the shots stopped.
Then he stepped quickly around the tree and fired a shot from his Colt. It went through the window, but it did no damage. He didn’t expect it to. As soon as he fired, he moved back to the far side of the tree. Several shots answered him from the windows. He waited again before stepping out. This time he saw a figure at one of the windows. He fired, and he heard the man yelp and saw him fall away from the window. He could hear the voice from inside the house. “Pete. Pete.”
Then everything was quiet again. Slocum waited, and in another minute, the front door was flung open and Geordie Gordon stepped out with a gun in each hand.
“Come out and fight, you son of a bitch,” he yelled. “You’ve killed my brother. Where the hell are you? You dirty bastard. Come out and fight like a man.”
Slocum stepped out in the open, his Colt in his right hand. He leveled it at Gordon.
“Drop your guns, Gordon,” he said.
Gordon raised both guns and began firing. One bullet kicked up dust just a few inches from Slocum’s right foot. He heard another as it whizzed by close to his left ear. He fired. His bullet smashed into Gordon’s chest, and Gordon fell back heavily against the front wall of the old house. Slocum walked slowly toward him, keeping his Colt ready, but Gordon did not move. As he stepped up close to the body, Slocum saw the fingers relax and watched the guns fall from the dead hands. He picked them up and walked inside. The other Gordon was dead all right. Slocum gathered up his guns. He went back outside and walked around the house to where he found two horses tied. He put the guns in the saddlebags and led the horses around to the front. In a short time, he had the bodies loaded onto the horses. He caught up his own horse and mounted, and taking the reins of the other two, he rode back toward town.
It was late that afternoon when Slocum rode out to the Zig Zag to visit with Holbrook. He found the sheriff sitting up out on the porch. Josie was there, too, as was old Yates. They all stood up to greet Slocum as he dismounted.
“Come on up and have a chair,” said Yates.
As Slocum climbed the stairs and took a chair, he jabbed a thumb toward Holbrook. “What’s this?” he said.
“I tried to keep him down,” said Josie, “but it was no use. He was wanting to ride to town today.”
“That might be a little premature,” Slocum said.
“Hell,” said Holbrook, “I’m all right. I need to get back to work.”
“I’d sure as hell welcome that,” Slocum said, “but not till you’re ready.”
“I’m ready.”
“Not till the doc says you’re ready.”
“Thanks, Slocum,” said Josie. “I need all the help I can get to keep this stubborn jackass down.”
“You want a drink, Slocum?” Yates asked.
“I wouldn’t mind,” Slocum said.
Josie stood up. “I’ll get it,” she said. She went into the house. “Cy,” said Slocum, “I got something to tell you. I got all those boys in jail now, except two. The last two decided they’d rather shoot it out than go to jail. I killed them both.”
“Who were they?” said Holbrook.
“The Gordon brothers.”
“Damn,” said Holbrook. “They always seemed like pretty nice fellows to me.”
“I wouldn’t know about that,” Slocum said. “They were two of the boys in that lynch mob, and they sent word in to me that they were waiting for me at the old Meadows place. I had to get directions to it. When I got out there, I asked them to ride back into town with me, but they decided to shoot instead. That’s all I know.”
“Well, I guess they asked for it,” said Holbrook.
“Yeah,” Slocum said. “Well, I’ll be just as glad when you’re back on your feet, and I don’t have to make no more of them kind of damn decisions.”
“Hell, Slocum, you’re doing all right.”
“I don’t like it worth a damn. And besides that, you lied to me about that damned conscription. You was probably out of your fool head whenever you admitted it to me, but you did confess, and you told me that it was all a damned lie.”
“I reckon I kind of remember telling you that. What if I was to say that I was lying that time?”
“That won’t wash,” said Slocum.
“No, I didn’t think so.”
“It was a dirty trick.”
“I reckon so.”
“A damn dirty trick, you son of a bitch.”
“Well, hell, Slocum, I guess you can pull out anytime you’ve a mind to.”
“That’s a fine thing to say to me at a time like this.”
“Like what?”
“You’re all laid up and not worth a shit, and you’ve still got all this trouble around here. I can’t run out on you now.”
Josie came back out onto the porch just then. She was carrying a tray with a bottle and three glasses on it. She put the tray down on a table and poured three drinks, handing one each to old Yates, Slocum and Holbrook. They each thanked her, and Slocum said, “Ain’t you having anything?”
“I’m going back in the house and leave you three to your men talk,” she said. “I’ll leave the bottle here.”
Josie went back in. The men each took a sip of his drink. Holbrook said to Slocum, “So you ain’t leaving me, huh?”
“No, not just yet anyhow.”
“Well, I hate to break up your little confab,” said Yates, “but just what are you two planning to do about all this trouble we been having?”
“Sim, I—”
“He ain’t going to do nothing,” said Slocum, interrupting Holbrook. “Not for a little while yet. In the meantime, the two men that we were sure were doing all the dirty work are dead. There just wasn’t no helping it. We still don’t know who it was paying them. So there ain’t a damn thing we can do now.”
“So that’s it?”
“If we’re right, then whoever we’re after ain’t got anyone to do the dirty work now. We’ll have to wait till he hires someone else and they start in again.”
“So we just wait till he kills another cowboy, huh?”
“We hope it won’t come to that, Sim,” said Holbrook.
“Yeah, but there ain’t no g’arantees.”
“You got any suggestions? We’ll damn sure listen.”
“Well, you can try to figure out who it is behind all this and get him before he hires any more gunnies.”
“Mr. Yates,” said Slocum, “we been trying to do that all along, but we just got nothing to go on.”
“Just be patient with us, Sim. We’ll get it done. I’ll be up and out of here in another day or two. Then we’ll really get busy.”
“Well, all right.”
“Wait a minute, Cy,” said Slocum. “What do you mean when you get up and around, we’ll get busy? What the hell will we be doing then, and how come I can’t be doing it now?”
Holbrook leaned over toward Slocum and spoke in a soft voice. “Let’s not argue here in front of ole Sim, Slocum. All I meant was that we’ll have time to put our heads together and figure this thing out. That’s all.”
“Say,” said Yates, “that looks like ole X. coming up the lane. What the hell does he want here?”
Slocum and Holbrook both turned their heads to look. Sure enough, X. Jones was riding toward the house. The men all stood up and waited for Jones to arrive at the porch.
“X.,” said Yates. “What brings you around here?”
Jones dismounted and walked toward the steps.
“Come on up and set,” said Yates.
“I just got back from the capital,” Jones said. He sat down, breathing heavily. “Had some business to take care of.”
“So how’d it go?” said Yates.
“Huh? Oh, it went just fine. But that ain’t why I come over here.”
“Well, I—”
“Oh, excuse me, X.,” Yates said. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
Yates got up and went to the door, opening it to yell inside. “Josie, would you bring another glass out here?” He went back to his chair to sit down again. In another minute, Josie came out with a glass.
“Oh, Mr. Jones,” she said. “Welcome.” She poured him a drink, excused herself and went back into the house. Jones sipped his whiskey.
“Now, X., what were you about to say?”
“Well,” said Jones, “I heard some very interesting stuff while I was at the capital. Some of it might have something to do with what’s been going on here.”
“Well, stop beating around the bush and tell us,” said Yates.
“The railroad’s coming through here,” said Jones.
“The railroad?”
“That’s what I said. The railroad’s coming, and it’s cutting right through our ranches. Yours and mine. It’ll run on through Guadalupe and out through the property of all the small ranchers. In another two months, there’ll be railroad men out here to buy up all the property they need.”
“What if we don’t want to sell?” asked Yates.
“You know how the railroad operates,” Jones said. “The government works right alongside them. They’ll decide what land they need, and then the government will condemn it. They’ll get it all right.”
Yates was a little slow, but Slocum and Holbrook were looking at each other.
“So whoever it is we’re looking for,” Holbrook said, “somehow got advance word of this.”
“That’s sure what it sounds like to me,” Slocum said. “He’s trying to run off as many as he can, buy up the places and be ready to sell to the railroad when it comes through.”
“Slocum,” said Holbrook, “I think I ought to take a closer look at those land records.”