CHAPTER 20
Those gathering around the long kitchen table at the Fletcher ranch were enjoying a hearty supper of fresh butchered beef. Eager to hear the scouting report brought back by Malcolm and Harley they were also entertained by Malcolm’s accounting of his encounters with the Tinhorn lawmen. He drew big belly laughs telling of the apple pie incident and the evening when Deputy Moran bought him and Harley a drink. Ada Tubbs was the only one who found none of the encounters with Deputy Flint Moran humorous. Her hatred of the man who had caused her so much internal pain was too great to permit anything having to do with him to be funny.
“Ain’t you afraid he got to know you so well he’ll recognize you on sight when you go into that bank?” Vike Trask asked.
“I ain’t goin’ into that bank,” Malcolm corrected him. “I’ll be just another rider holdin’ your horse outside the bank. You young men will be inside the bank gettin’ the cash, just like me and your pa did when we were young men. Ain’t that right, Liam?”
Trask said it was.
“Harley knows what to do. This ain’t his first holdup. He’ll tell you what to do. Justin will go in with you and Harley. Me and Willy will be outside holdin’ the horses. Ada says she can guard the remounts with your pa. We picked out a nice little creek about three and a half miles north of Tinhorn to hold the fresh horses. The night before we hit ’em, we’ll camp about a hundred yards down that creek. We’ll leave that bank at a gallop and drive our horses as fast as they’ll go all the way to that creek. Then we’ll slap our saddles on fresh horses and be long gone before they can get up a posse to come after us. But we ain’t gonna be on that Tyler road. Me and Harley looked it over, and what we’ll do is just ride farther down that creek about another hundred yards where it empties into the river. We’ll let the posse go to Tyler.” Malcolm grinned. “They’ll be ridin’ north while we’re ridin’ south.”
That sounded good to everybody and they voiced their approval.
“They have a bank guard?” Justin asked.
“No,” Harley answered him before his father could. “They ain’t got no guard. We saw a couple of tellers through the windows. We watched ’em when they closed the bank, and nobody came out except one man—the feller that owns it, I reckon. Couldn’t be much easier. It’ll be a good one for your first time, Vike.”
“Ain’t that a helluva lot of trouble, drivin’ those extra horses up north of Tinhorn?” Ada asked. “Seems to me you’d have enough head start on a posse, anyway. And it don’t seem to me like you’d want to drive a bunch of wore-out horses with you when you’re tryin’ to make a getaway.”
“In this game, it always helps to have an extra ace in your hand,” Malcolm answered. “There’s right about three hundred horses out yonder in our pastures. I ain’t worried about losin’ seven of ’em. If you’re likin’ that dun geldin’ you came here on, you’d best pick you another one outta the herd.”
Ada didn’t reply right away. She just looked at him as if she couldn’t believe him. Then she said, “I’ll just ride my dun up to that creek. I don’t need no extra horse. Since I’m not goin’ into town with you, my dun will be just as fresh as your other horses. You don’t have to lose but five horses outta your herd. Pa won’t need an extra one, neither.”
Malcolm laughed. “I swear, you’re right. I forgot about that.” He looked at Trask and quipped, “Maybe Ada oughta be the boss of this gang.”
His comment was a notion she’d had, but she refrained from saying so.
“Well, it seems like we know what we’re gonna do,” Justin said. “So when are we gonna do it?”
“I’m thinkin’ we oughta drive those extra horses up above Tinhorn tomorrow and make our camp on that creek. Then we ride into the bank before it opens day after tomorrow. Whaddaya think, Liam? That all right with you?” Malcolm asked the question simply to placate Trask, so he wouldn’t feel like he was being left out.
“Okay by me,” Trask answered. “I just wish I could be part of the holdup.”
“I know you do, partner,” Malcolm responded, “but we can’t take a chance on somebody recognizin’ you. I’m gonna have to wear my other hat and cover up my face. Ain’t nobody likely to recognize me unless I go into the sheriff’s office, the saloon, or the hotel dinin’ room. I ain’t plannin’ on goin’ in any of them places.”
The planning continued for quite some time, although there was little left to work out. They decided to take one packhorse but to load it with only cooking utensils, the coffee pot, some flour, and some bacon. They didn’t want to load the packhorse with anything approaching the weight of a rider and saddle.
That afternoon, Malcolm and the boys went out among the horses grazing in the first pasture to cut out a horse to ride into town. Many of the horses were not saddle broken and the operation provided a few laughs. More than one first choice was rejected due to the possibility of being bucked out of the saddle during the getaway. After the final selections were made, the chosen horses were taken to the barn and released into the corral.
Early the next morning, Melva, Nelda, and Ada served up a big breakfast to send Ada and the men off on their mission. Well accustomed to being left with only the youngest son to do the male chores till the men returned from their mischief, Melva and Nelda were just as glad that Ada was going with the men. As Nelda once confided to her mother, Ada was like having a ghost around, and she never smiled.
Thirteen-year-old Cody begged to be included in the gang, but his father had a set rule when it came to age. Justin had not been allowed to participate in the family’s unlawful endeavors until he reached his fourteenth year. The same rule applied to Cody.
“You ain’t got but half a year before you’ll be fourteen,” Malcolm told him. “Besides, I need a man to take care of the ranch and the women while we’re gone. You’ll be the head man till I get back.”
“It ain’t the same as bein’ part of the gang, Pa, and you know it,” Cody complained.
Malcolm ended the discussion. “But that’s the way it is. Take care of your mother and sister, and we’ll be back in a couple of days.”
* * *
In the town of Tinhorn few seemed to notice they were seeing the sheriff and his deputy out on the street more often than the day before—especially in the morning but also in the afternoon. The change in routine was noticed perhaps the most in Clara’s Kitchen when Flint, but especially Buck, was there for breakfast at seven o’clock sharp.
It did not escape comment. “Well, this is a special occasion,” Clara said in greeting. “The sheriff is having breakfast with us this morning.” She couldn’t help adding, “I certainly hope Rena isn’t ill.”
“Damn, Clara,” Bonnie said, upon overhearing her remark. “That was mean.”
“That was kinda mean, wasn’t it?” Clara replied. “I’m sorry, Buck. I’m always happy to see you, even if you think Rena’s breakfast is better.”
“Doggone you, Clara,” Buck replied. “You know dang well I don’t think no such a thing. It’s just that I don’t get hungry for breakfast till later in the mornin’, and you’re closed then.”
She looked at the deputy. “There must be some reason you two are here so early this morning. What is it, Flint?”
“We were just thinking we could save a lot more of the day, if we got an earlier start on breakfast. Would you rather we leave and come back later?”
“No,” she said with a look of distrust on her face. “Go sit down and Mindy will wait on you.”
“What’s wrong with me?” Bonnie asked indignantly.
“Or Bonnie,” Clara said, knowing Bonnie was protesting just to get Mindy’s goat when she came from the pump and discovered Flint in the dining room.
Bonnie hurried into the kitchen to fill two cups. Carrying them back to the dining room, she discovered Buck and Flint had taken the table by the window. “Are you gonna sit here?” she asked, standing before them, still holding the coffee cups.
Buck looked at her, then gave Flint a puzzled look. “It’s kinda obvious, ain’t it?”
“This ain’t your favorite table,” Bonnie informed him. “You always sit at that table by the kitchen door.”
“Yeah, but this is breakfast,” Buck replied with a perfectly serious face. “This is my favorite table for breakfast.”
“Since it doesn’t matter where I sit, can I have that cup of coffee?” Flint interrupted.
She gave them an exasperated frown, placed the cups on the table, and returned to the kitchen.
Flint and Buck turned their attention toward the bank next door, although it was a little early yet to expect anyone there. As they ate, they would keep a watchful eye out the window the whole while. Since it was the end of town Flint had seen Malcolm and Harley leave Tinhorn from, they figured it would likely be the end of town to watch for strangers seeming to drift in. Thinking of Buck’s little word exchange with Bonnie over the table, Flint was encouraged to see that, in spite of his forced change of schedule, Buck still maintained his sense of humor.
“Those two plates ready for Flint and Buck?” Bonnie sang out when she saw Mindy come in the back door carrying two full buckets of water she had offered to get for Margaret. “Oh, Mindy,” she teased, “the sheriff and his deputy came in and they asked for me to wait on ’em.”
Mindy looked alarmed at once. She looked at Margaret, who was looking back at her with a slight grin. Slowly Margaret shook her head then picked up the two plates she’d prepared and handed them to Mindy.
Mindy walked by a grinning Bonnie and whispered, “You really are a witch, aren’t you?”
Like Bonnie, she was surprised to see the two lawmen sitting by the window but didn’t hesitate to glide right over and place the plates before them. “Good morning, gentlemen.”
Both gave her a big smile in return.
“Is there anything else I can get for you?”
When they said they were fine for the moment, she returned to the kitchen and a grinning Bonnie.
In spite of the threat to their town that occupied almost all of their thoughts, Buck could not resist asking a question that had baffled him before. “Flint, it ain’t none of my business, but have you ever thought about what a nice gal that Mindy is?”
No doubt, especially when heavier thoughts were on their minds, that his question surprised Flint. “Yes, I suppose I have. She is a nice gal. One of the sweetest I’ve ever met.”
“She’d sure make some lucky man a wonderful wife,” Buck remarked. “Don’t you think so?”
“I sure do,” Flint replied at once. “I’ve always thought that ever since I met her. She’s the kind of woman who could make a man happy.”
“It’s hard to let her know you’re interested, though, ain’t it?” Buck pressed. “I mean, to come right out with it and tell her how you feel.”
“I reckon it is, Buck. But if you’re lettin’ the age difference stop you from gettin’ up your nerve, there’s a lot of women that prefer an older man. Gives ’em a sense of security, I guess. You’ll never know unless you ask her.”
“What?” Buck put his fork down. “I ain’t talkin’ about me, you blitherin’ idiot. I’m talkin’ about you and Mindy.”
“Oh,” Flint uttered, then grinned. “I can’t think about things like that. I can’t afford to support a wife on the pay I get for this job. Even if she was interested in me in a marryin’ way, it wouldn’t be fair to her. I can’t afford to take care of her.”
“Right,” Buck said when he couldn’t think what else to say. “Right,” he repeated. “Ain’t none of my business, anyway.” There was nothing he could do to solve that problem. He had to respect the young man’s sense of responsibility toward marriage. Most men in his circumstances would go after the girl, whether they could afford her or not. Nothing more was said for several long minutes as sheriff and deputy concentrated on their food.
It was a relief for Buck when Clara asked if they wanted Margaret to go ahead and fix Ralph’s breakfast.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied at once. “We’re about done here.”
They got up from the table and walked over to Clara’s register and Flint paid for his breakfast. Then they waited there and made small talk with her while they waited for Ralph’s breakfast.
In a minute, Mindy came out with the plate wrapped with a heavy cloth to keep it warm. She walked straight to Flint and gave it to him.
“Thanks, Mindy. I know Ralph will be glad to get this.”
“Will we see you back here at dinner?” she asked.
“Yep, I expect so.” Flint turned and followed Buck out the door.
Since there was no activity on the street at all, and certainly no strangers to be seen, they walked back to the jail where Ralph was eager to get his breakfast. Flint made another pot of coffee, so Ralph could have all he wanted then walked out onto the little front porch and looked up and down the street that was just beginning to show some life.
A few strangers to Flint had come into town, but they were driving farm wagons, and some had women and children with them. He and Buck walked the street in opposite directions a couple of times. At eight-thirty, they walked back toward the bank, on opposite sides of the street, both carrying rifles as well as their sidearms. With past attacks on the jail in mind, both were aware the street was not the only approach to the bank. On that side of the street, Flint was also watching the open spaces between the buildings and the river. On the other side, Buck had some small trees for cover within twenty yards of the stores’ back doors, so he was able to walk unnoticed.
They saw no strangers on horseback drifting into town. At nine o’clock, teller Eugene Bannerman opened the front door to the bank, and like Robert Page on alternate days, he picked up any trash he saw lying near the bank’s entrance. Buck, across the street at the post office, walked out and signaled Flint to join him at the bank’s door. Going inside, they saw Harvey Baxter standing in the doorway of his office, watching the door.
He walked out to meet them and greeted them with one word. “Anything?”
“No, sir,” Buck said. “We’ve been watchin’ the town pretty close. So far, there hasn’t been anybody we can’t account for. But that don’t mean we can afford to assume today ain’t the day. They could come ridin’ in here any time of day and attempt to rob you, so we’ll be watchin’ all day. Although, we still think it’ll come in the morning at openin’ time. Maybe not tomorrow mornin’,” he hedged, “but it won’t be long.”
“Well, I can’t say that’s encouraging.” Baxter sighed. “But I appreciate your and Flint’s diligence on the bank’s behalf.” He shook his head and confessed, “When I was unlocking that front door this morning, I fumbled so long trying to get the key in the lock, I thought I was gonna get knocked in the head or something.”
“We had our eyes on the bank,” Buck assured him. “We weren’t gonna let nothin’ like that happen. And like I said, we’re gonna be watchin’ the bank all day. Even when we eat. Through a window over at Clara’s is where we can watch the bank.”
“I appreciate it,” Baxter said.
They started to leave, then Buck thought of one more thing. “Have you told your tellers about this yet?”
Baxter said he had not.
“Good. I think it’s best not to, until it happens. Then we can just let ’em out the back door, and they’ll be safe.”
* * *
While things were peaceful as usual in the town, a small troop of riders were making their way north with intentions to alter that state of mind. As carefree and cheerful a band of riders as you would expect on their way to a carnival or a fair, the Fletcher-Trask gang rode at a comfortable pace. Seven in number, five of them led a spare horse. Except for the ever-somber Ada, they joked back and forth with each other. Sitting tall in the saddle, her wide-brim hat pulled down squarely on her head, she felt cheated by not being able to participate in the robbery and the possible opportunity to get a shot at Flint Moran. Accustomed to her constant moody disposition, the rest of the party left her to her own hell.
Late in the afternoon Malcolm Fletcher signaled for them to stay close to the trees along the Neches River and to keep quiet. They were about to bypass the town of Tinhorn. Once they were past the town, a ride of a little over three miles took them to the creek he had told them about. Crossing over the river, they followed the creek upstream.
Malcolm pointed up the creek. “It’s about a hundred yards on up before we get to the spot that would make a good camp. Another hundred yards and we’ll be at the Tyler road we’ll be riding outta town on when we’re makin’ our getaway. As thick as these trees are along the creek, we can go ahead and make a small fire. It won’t be seen from the road, even if anybody’s ridin’ by tonight.”
Reaching the spot Malcolm had picked out, they watered the horses and let them graze. Some of the boys gathered wood for the fire for Ada to cook some bacon, prepare some simple pan bread to go with it, and make coffee to wash it all down with. It was a family outing with prospects of better things to come in the morning. The only restriction was there would be no whiskey that night. Malcolm and Trask had laid down the law. They wanted no fuzzy heads riding into Tinhorn in the morning.
When it was time to roll out the bedrolls the horses were tied on a rope line between two trees, and the two-family gang of outlaws turned in for the night. They had no need for an extra early start in the morning, for they were only three-and-a-half miles north of the town. Since the bank didn’t open until nine, they planned to ride in, hopefully unnoticed, a little before that time, and be the bank’s first customers of the day.
“And the last customers of the day,” Malcolm whispered as he thought over the plan one more time.