The Misadventured Summer of Tumbleweed Thompson

The Marshall slipped his revolver from its holster, and the three men drew closer. “I don’t know how you got him to come with you, and I’m surprised he’s just riding along with you, easy as pie. But, just the same, I’ll make sure you boys get the reward money.”

My mouth flopped open, and I could only stare as Marshall Boggs leveled his gun at Wendell and yanked the reins from his hands. “We’ll take it from here, boys.” The two deputies flanking him moved forward and tugged Wendell roughly from Jubilee’s saddle. He stumbled as he dismounted, and they yanked him to his feet.

I turned to Tumbleweed. “Say something,” I hissed. Where was Charlotte? Ma and Pa? Anyone who knew Wendell and could set the Marshall straight?

Tumbleweed raised his hand. I let out a sigh of relief. “Did you say reward money?” he asked.

“Sure did, son. The U.S. Marshall service has a five-hundred dollar bounty on the heads of every member of the Clean Shave Gang, going back three years. After we got the telegraph from the station at Green River that the train had never arrived, we started to put things together. Took some time, but we finally got the break in the case we needed late yesterday. So I telegraphed for these fine deputies of mine here, Deputy Mars and Deputy Quincy. They arrived a short while ago, and we were just making plans to head out after the Gang. This sure makes our jobs a lot easier.”

“Hang on!” I cried, dismounting in a flash and jogging toward the Marshall. “Wendell didn’t rob that train. It was Trent Berger and two other guys. One of them works in the mayor’s office. I was there. I saw it!”

Marshall Boggs paused. “You think I’m simple? I know he wasn’t acting alone. But he’s the leader of this gang, and based on the evidence we received yesterday, he’s behind a half dozen other jobs from here to California. As soon as the Federal judge arrives, we’ll be able to hold a preliminary hearing to start the process of getting some justice for the U.S. Government.”

Evidence? Hearing? My head began to whirl.

“Matter of fact, if Hayes is as savvy as we think he is, we’d better search these boys, too. You fellas mind?” The two deputies passed Wendell off to Marshall Boggs and moved toward us. One gestured for Tumbleweed, and he dismounted limply.

“Hey—what’s the big idea?” I asked, as the second deputy slipped his hand into my coat pocket. Soon, he had removed my slingshot from my back pocket, along with the collection of marbles and rocks I had gathered for ammunition.

“Well, well—look at this,” the other deputy chortled. I turned to see Tumbleweed standing wide-eyed, his face suddenly gone pale as the deputy raised two fistfuls of bank notes in the air. “Looks like a whole pile of loot from the robbery yesterday,” he added.

“It’s not the full stash by any stretch, but it’s something,” Boggs said. “What did you do, Hayes, get the kid to take the money so you wouldn’t get caught with it?”

“That ain’t mine,” Wendell said through clenched teeth. “And anybody with any sense would see how foolish it would be to keep the money on me.”

“That’s right,” Boggs said. “So you probably got the rest hidden somewhere between here and the train tracks. I don’t think you were expecting the kids to come find you, but when they did, you must’ve figured you had the perfect way to bring the money back into town. You figured that way it couldn’t be traced to you. Or maybe, it was their reward for helping you hide it all. Which is it?” His face twisted cruelly as he leaned toward Tumbleweed.

But the heat of the day and Tumbleweed’s weakened condition proved too much for him at this sudden confrontation. Tumbleweed wobbled and crumpled sideways. The deputy who had been searching me grabbed Tumbleweed as he fell.

Marshall Boggs signaled to the deputy with the money, who passed the bills over, then slapped metal handcuffs onto Wendell’s wrists. Shoulders slumped, Wendell allowed the Marshall to steer him past us. “If you’ve got something else to tell me, you know where to find us,” Marshall Boggs said.

Suddenly, Ma and Pa appeared at the edge of the crowd, Charlotte between them. Tumbleweed’s Ma and Pa were close behind them, and they tended to their fallen son as Marshall Boggs tucked the money into a satchel over his shoulder.

“You’ve got to believe me—Wendell’s innocent,” I said to Ma and Pa.

“That very well may be true, but we’ve got to take care of some of our own business back at the house,” Ma said, and from the tightness in her jaw, I knew Wendell would have to wait.

I glanced at Charlotte. “Your Pa’s not back yet with the Sheriff ?”

She shook her head. “They’re still in Denver.”

I frowned. Of course. It had only been two days since they’d left. “Can you at least wire him word or something?” I asked the Marshall.

He grinned tightly beneath his broad mustache. “You don’t get to call the shots on my investigation, son. It’s like I told you that day in the church, this business with the Clean Shave Gang isn’t just business for me. They killed two of my men. It’s blood.”

My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach, and I could only watch mutely as the Marshall headed out of sight. The crowd began to mutter, and I could only wonder whether they were as convinced of Wendell’s innocence as I was. Boggs had the badge. And he spoke with authority. Maybe they were already starting to believe him.

I turned to Ma and Pa. “I know I owe you a huge apology over leaving home yesterday. But I’ve got to go talk to the Marshall.”

“You’re right in saying you owe your Ma an apology, and probably more,” Pa said. “But we both can tell there’s a right noble fire burning inside you over this. And that wouldn’t be the case unless justice was at the root of it. So if you’ve got something to say to the Marshall, you go ahead and say it. We’ll be right behind you.”

I dashed after the Marshall and caught him at the front door of the jail. His dark eyes narrowed as I caught my breath. “You don’t know when to quit, do you, son? I don’t know what sort of debt you owe Silas Hayes—”

“Wendell Jenkins.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“His name’s Wendell Jenkins now. Silas Hayes is gone.”

“No matter, I can tell you’ve got something to say to me, so why don’t you get it over with, so we can get on with our business.” He opened the door and pointed inside. I sat in front of his desk, my pulse throbbing in my temple as the Marshall stared down at me from under his wide-brimmed tan hat.

“There were three men out there who robbed the train. Their names are Trent Berger, Alton Plunkett, and Gerald Hackensack,” I began. Then I laid it all out for him—what I’d seen on the train, the cabin on Mosquito Ridge, and the ranch over the Utah border where we’d caught up to them.

“See, I know most of that already, except for the part about the cabin.”

“You do?” I asked.

He nodded. “I know a lot more than that, in fact. I know all about Wendell Jenkins, as you called him, and his involvement with the Clean Shave Gang.”

“But that’s just it. He’s not involved.”

“Not involved?” he asked. “Then how might you explain the crate I received yesterday afternoon in the post office? I’m not going to get into everything, seeing as how you’re just a twelve-year old kid, and I don’t feel obliged to explain myself to you. But suffice it to say that there’s enough evidence in there of Wendell Jenkins’ leadership of the Clean Shave Gang to win a case in front of any judge anywhere in America. Or in the Colorado territory,” he added.

Suddenly, Berger’s words at the ranch came back to me. We’ve been busy setting a few traps for you in town. And when all is said and done, you’ll be the one who takes the fall for all of this. No wonder they hadn’t given chase. They didn’t need to.

“But the cabin,” I said. “The other men…”

“Well, whoever these other men are, I’d guess they’re halfway to Nevada by now. But, we can mosey out there tomorrow if you want. With Wendell locked up, I’ve got a bit of time on my hands. I’ve just now sent a telegraph to Denver for Judge Crawford, so he can come and conduct our preliminary hearing tomorrow.”

“Hearing?” I asked. “What’s that?”

He leaned forward, smirking broadly. “It’s my way of locking things up tight here. If Judge Crawford decides there’s enough evidence to build a federal case against Hayes, then the Marshalls will take custody of him and he’ll be transferred to Kansas for trial.”

“A federal case?”

“Silas and his gang crossed a bunch of state lines with all their crimes. That makes them federal suspects.”

“He wasn’t leading them when they did all of that,” I interrupted.

Marshall Boggs’s jaw tightened. “So you say. I say that even though Colorado isn’t an official part of the United States yet, America still has the ability to take someone into custody here.” He winked at me. “That’s where Kansas comes in. It’s an official state. So the trial would take place there. Does that all make sense now?”

I nodded, feeling my throat start to tighten.

“Like I said, Eugene,” he said, lowering his voice and smiling, “I’m not the outlaw here. Your friend and his pals are.”

I squeezed my fingers into fists until I had to bite my lip against the pain. Why couldn’t he see the truth?

“Now, if that’s all,” the Marshall said. “I believe I’ve answered more than enough of your questions for one day. You come by tomorrow morning bright and early, we’ll take that ride out to the ranch you described for me, y’hear?”

I nodded, my fingers still balled as I rose and shoved back my chair. As I left, I could see the briefest glimpse of Wendell in his cell. Ma, Pa, and Charlotte stood as I exited the jail.

“Well?” Ma asked.

“He has a lot of evidence,” I said. “A lot. But it must be all fake. The Gang must have made it look like Wendell was behind their jobs, and planted all those documents in Wendell’s shop or something before they left.”

“And what about the money?” Pa asked. “That does look bad.”

I paused. “I don’t know why Tumbleweed took the money,” I said. “But it plays right into the gang’s plans.”

Charlotte laced her arm through mine. “We’ll make him see the truth.”

“The Marshall said he’d be willing to ride out tomorrow to the ranch where they took Tumbleweed. It’s a half-day’s ride. Would you let me go?” I asked.

They glanced at each other. “I’ll come with you,” Pa said.

“Okay,” I said. “I don’t even know why I’m going, really.”

“You’re going because you’re not giving up,” Ma said.

“And,” Charlotte added, squeezing my arm, “you’ve got a whole bunch of resourceful individuals by your side. We’ll figure something out.”