Chapter Ten

‘Hey, what’s the idea? You can’t keep me here!’ protested Lazlo as he came to.

‘Where you’re concerned I can do any damn thing I want,’ Callaghan told him. ‘I could draw up a real long list of charges against you, including assault and attempted murder.’

‘That’s preposterous. I was merely doing my duty as a citizen.’

‘Whether you like it or not, hanging a man without due process is murder. If any one of us in here had been killed during the attack, that would have been murder too, with you as an accessory.’ The sheriff brought his face up close to Lazlo who now paled visibly and squirmed in his seat. ‘In case you didn’t know, that’s a hanging offence.’

‘Look . . . I just wanted to do right by Arthur Norris. You can’t put me in the same category as him!’ Lazlo raised his bound hands to point contemptuously at Gorman.

Carver shook his head. ‘You just don’t get it, do you? Electing yourself judge and jury makes you just as bad as he is.’

‘We oughta throw you in that cell too,’ added Pike.

‘So, are you going to charge me with anything?’ asked the chastened apothecary.

‘Well, that depends. If you just sit there quietly and do what I tell you, maybe I’ll forget about the charges,’ Callaghan told him.

Lazlo nodded eagerly. ‘OK, Sheriff. I’ll do whatever you say.’

‘Good. Now, there’s just one problem left to solve. Matt, have you still got that old waggon you were storing behind the livery?’

‘Sure I have. What do you want it for?’ asked Carver.

‘It’s a long walk down the street from here to the stage,’ explained Callaghan. ‘We’ll be pretty exposed and that’s when Gaston and his friends will make their move.’

‘Yeah, a high sided waggon with three of us ridin’ shotgun could just give us the protection we’ll need,’ observed Pike. ‘But how do we get it here?’

‘I can go,’ declared Harper.

‘No, Mick, it’s dangerous. You’ve done enough already,’ Callaghan told him.

‘I’m the only one who can get through that back window easily. I’m quick with horses, I can link up a team, drive it around the back and climb back in.’

Carver and Pike exchanged looks. ‘It makes sense, and one of us has to go,’ said the cavalry sergeant.

Callaghan nodded reluctantly. ‘All right, Mick. You can go, but wait until dark.’

The hours of daylight crawled by as the men inside the jailhouse took turns on lookout, played cards and ate their meals. Their two prisoners remained quiet and gave them no trouble, Gorman having given up his whining. Maxwell was like a ghost town, since all those not taking part in Gaston’s act of defiance had been warned firmly to remain in doors. Dusk came and went with no sign of an attack. Callaghan looked out and saw that the moon was almost full, riding high in an inky blackness speckled with stars.

‘OK, kid. It’s time to go.’ He tossed Harper a rifle and told him not to be afraid to use it if necessary.

The young man nodded, gave them all a rueful smile and then squeezed his agile frame out through the back window before disappearing into the night. He crept softly through the back street that ran parallel to the main one until he reached the livery and slipped inside. The horses stirred in their stalls as he lit an oil lamp and held it up, selecting two of the strongest ones to pull the waggon. Sensing a movement behind him, he turned around, rifle at the ready.

‘That don’t look too friendly, Mick. I’ve known you since you came to live here.’ Gaston stepped into the pool of lamplight, and as he emerged out of the shadows, Harper saw that he was swaying slightly. His left hand clutched a bottle of whisky, but a Colt revolver was firmly gripped in his right.

‘That doesn’t look too friendly either,’ replied Harper.

‘Oh, you don’t wanna pay no mind to the fact that I’m holdin’ a gun. I ain’t got no wish to shoot you, Mick. You surely got no wish to shoot me, have you?’

Harper swallowed hard, recalling the blacksmith’s past friendliness toward him. ‘Just let me get these horses and the waggon out the back and I’ll be gone.’

Gaston shook his head, still smiling. ‘Can’t let you do that, boy. You oughta be standin’ by your friends, not helpin’ that sheriff.’ He reached out and placed a hand on the barrel of the rifle. ‘Come on now, just put that down nice and easy, Mick.’

In one swift movement, Harper smashed the rifle against Gaston’s right hand so that the gun dropped from his fingers. Then he lunged forward, sticking the muzzle into the older man’s gut. The blacksmith sank to his knees with a choked cry and the boy then clubbed him over the head with the rifle butt so that Gaston was knocked out cold.

‘You’re right, I was never going to shoot,’ remarked Harper to his friend’s inert form and then quickly led the horses out of their stalls before hitching them to the waggon. The sound of hoofs and wheels clattering along the street sounded like a crescendo in his ears, but no one stirred as he sped back to the jailhouse and drew the waggon to a halt at the back.

‘Did you have any trouble?’ asked Callaghan as he helped Harper climb back in through the window.

‘I had to knock out Abe Gaston. I guess he’ll have a pretty sore head when he wakes up.’

‘Maybe it’ll knock some sense into him,’ remarked Carver. ‘At least you didn’t have to shoot. Too many people have died over this already.’

‘There might be more,’ added Lazlo. ‘Look, Sheriff, maybe I can help out. Let me go talk to the people involved. Perhaps I can persuade them to let things lie. After all, no one wants to be facing charges when all this is over.’

Callaghan considered this for a moment. ‘No, right now you being here is probably the one thing that stops Gaston’s friends from attacking us. I’m not about to give that up. If you want to help, just sit tight and wait until morning. I’ll tell you what I want you to do then.’

‘Will those horses be all right out there?’ asked Pike, changing the subject.

‘Yeah, I brought some feed and blankets for them, and we’ve got enough water,’ Harper told him.

The sergeant nodded approvingly. ‘I could make a good soldier outta you. The rule is that the horses get looked after first, then the men, and yourself last.’

Another night of tense, uneasy sleep followed before the hours of daylight crept toward noon, Callaghan anxiously checking his pocket watch every five minutes. At last it was almost time for the stage to arrive.

‘Ten minutes to go. Mick, you can get that waggon and bring it around to the front now.’

As Harper climbed back through the back window once more, the sheriff unlocked Gorman’s cell and gestured for the prisoner to come out. The disgraced detective shuffled forward reluctantly.

‘Come on, hurry it up. The only alternative to getting on that stage is to get lynched here. What’s it going to be?’

As Gorman emerged, Callaghan shoved him in Pike’s direction. ‘OK, guard him for me, would you?’

Carver opened the door a crack as the waggon drew up outside. Callaghan told him to go in front, rifle at the ready, then Gorman with Pike taking up the rear.

‘You still haven’t said what you want me to do,’ said Lazlo nervously.

The lawman then hauled him to his feet and slid the barrel of a rifle between the hostage’s cuffed wrists, the muzzle resting under Lazlo’s chin.

‘I want you to stand alongside me on that waggon for everyone to see. I hope your friends value your life, because if one of them tries anything I’ll blow your damned head off. Is that clear?’

The apothecary gave a slight nod, his eyes wide with terror, and then the group emerged into the midday sunshine. Carver leaped up beside Harper to ride shotgun and Pike followed, pushing Gorman up on to the waggon in front of him. It was difficult keeping the rifle in position while clambering up on to the vehicle with his hostage, but Callaghan managed it. The two then remained standing as the waggon moved off, the lawman urging Harper to drive slowly.

The street was deserted, the shutters closed at every window, although one or two of them opened a crack so that the curious could take a peep at what was going on. Callaghan held the rifle under Lazlo’s chin with his left hand, a revolver gripped in his right. His eyes scanned the street ahead, glancing up at the rooftops for signs of movement but so far there was nothing. At last the way station came within sight and Callaghan could see the stage approaching in a cloud of dust. It was going to be right on time. Between them and it, however, Gaston stood flanked by two confederates. The sheriff guessed they were the only men he had left. The blacksmith looked a sorry sight with a bloodstained bandage wrapped around his head, but he held his rifle straight and it was pointed at Callaghan.

‘That’s as far as you go, Sheriff. Gorman ain’t gettin’ on that stage.’

Callaghan lowered the rifle slightly as the waggon drew to a halt. ‘For God’s sake, Abe, back off! He’ll kill me if you don’t!’ pleaded Lazlo.

Gaston hesitated for a moment and his two men looked uncertain. ‘Sheriff Callaghan here’s a real upstandin’ lawman. He won’t do no such thing, so don’t you fret none.’

‘Are you sure you want to take that risk?’ the lawman asked.

Gaston nodded. ‘I’m sure. Now, y’all got rifles and so have we. Either it gets nasty or you hand Gorman over. What’s it gonna be?’

Callaghan sighed. ‘You’re right, Abe. I can’t shoot this unarmed man and I don’t want to risk getting gunned down in the street.’ He threw his rifle aside and shoved Lazlo down from the waggon. Gaston grinned and visibly relaxed as he and his companions lowered their weapons. In that split second the lawman moved in an arc, firing his pistol at each man in turn with incredible swiftness. The one to Gaston’s right crumpled as a bullet hit him straight through the heart, the blacksmith got one between the eyes and the third man fell with a choked cry as the next shot ripped through his carotid artery.

‘My God, I ain’t never seen anything like it,’ muttered an amazed Pike.

‘I hope you never have to see it again,’ said Callaghan ruefully as he holstered his weapon. ‘Well, the show’s over so let’s get Gorman on that stage.’

The weary passengers tumbled out to stretch their legs for a few moments when the Concord coach drew to a halt. The last to emerge was a heavyset man with mutton-chop whiskers who wore a deputy marshal’s badge pinned to his cowhide waistcoat.

‘I believe you’re here to collect this man,’ said Callaghan as he shoved Gorman toward him.

The deputy glanced at the dead men lying in the street. ‘I see you had a little trouble, Sheriff. Friends of his, were they?’

There was a moment’s pause before Callaghan and his companions burst into uncontrolled fits of laughter. The deputy shook his head in puzzlement, then bundled his prisoner aboard the stage. A quick change of horses followed and then the three men watched as the stage grew smaller and then faded into the distance, leaving only dust behind it.

As Callaghan turned around, Lazlo appeared at his elbow. ‘I wonder if you’d mind removing these,’ he said, raising his cuffed wrists.

‘Sure, you’re free to go now,’ said the lawman as he unlocked the cuffs.

‘Were you really prepared to shoot me?’

‘What do you think?’

‘It does seem rather strange, considering how important you think it is to uphold the law.’

Callaghan nodded. ‘Exactly. That’s why the rifle I was holding had no bullets in it.’

Lazlo thought about this for a moment. ‘I guess you wanted to give Gaston and his friends a good reason to give up.’

‘You’re right. I figured there’d been enough killing, but you can’t convince some people.’

The apothecary looked down at the dirt. ‘I realize now how wrong I was to get involved. I’m sorry for all the trouble.’

‘Well, you didn’t start it. Abe Gaston did, and now he’s paid with his life. I guess that’ll be a lesson to you.’

‘It certainly will.’ Lazlo extended his hand and the sheriff shook it as the two men parted.

The town was starting to get back to normal now that the drama was over. The corpses of Gaston and his men were removed from the street. Shutters were opened, and people started to come out of their houses.

Callaghan heard a shout of joy and turned to see Christina running down the street toward him. Moments later, they were embracing as townspeople gathered around the happily reunited couple.

‘Well, I guess I’d better get back to Fort Bowie and leave you lovebirds to it,’ declared Pike.

‘Oh no you don’t!’ Christina admonished him as she broke away from kissing the sheriff. ‘We’re going to have the best wedding ever. You must stay for that.’

‘Hey, aren’t I supposed to ask you a question first?’

‘Why do you need to ask when you already know the answer?’

Callaghan shrugged. ‘I guess not.’ Then he kissed her again, and this time there were no interruptions.