CHAPTER 22
The attempted holdup of the Bank of Tinhorn gave the people of the little town something to discuss for several days after Walt Doolin had buried the bodies. Mayor Harvey Baxter did not hesitate to remind the members of the town council he had recommended the hiring of young Flint Moran as a deputy for Buck Jackson.
Clara Rakestraw was quick to remind the women working in Clara’s Kitchen she had suspected something was up when Buck and Flint started having breakfast together. “I knew it was something big about to happen. But Buck wouldn’t admit it.”
Flint’s curiosity about the fate of Ada Tubbs reared again when Buck received a WANTED notice in the mail stating she was a fugitive from the law on charges of the murder of jail guard Leon Rafer and also a suspect in the disappearance of Texas Ranger Matt Conway.
Buck looked at the notice, then handed it to Flint. “Looks like Matt Conway caught up with Ada.”
Flint took the notice, read it, then reread it. “Looks that way, all right,” he agreed. “I was afraid he might not take Ada to be the dangerous woman she is. I swear, that’s sorry news. He seemed to be a decent man. I’da thought when he went missin’ they woulda sent some more Rangers down here to look for him.”
“Maybe they did,” Buck commented. “They just didn’t come through Tinhorn. They mighta thought we sent him on a suicide trail, and they’d pick up their own trail. Suits me. As long as they keep it outta Tinhorn, I don’t care what they do about her.”
It was not as easy for Flint to dismiss Ada Tubbs. By nature, he was the type who liked to see things finished, especially if he was involved with their beginning. And there was no doubt in his mind he was as much a spark as any to light the fuse that set Ada Tubbs off. Beginning with the arrest of her husband, then spoiling her attempts to free him, and finally killing him, he could well imagine the burning hatred she carried for him. If that wasn’t enough, he also killed one brother and had a part in the killing of her other brother.
He felt sure he had come to know Ada well enough to be certain she would not reconcile herself to permit him to go unpunished. That she was a woman made it doubly troubling for him. He wasn’t comfortable having a woman to settle with. That’s why he hoped the Rangers would find her and arrest her, and why he was happy when two Texas Rangers rode into town one afternoon shortly after Buck brought Ralph’s dinner back to the jail.
Time was getting along toward the middle of the month and the occasion of Ralph’s trial. Ralph was beginning to realize his leisurely existence was rapidly coming to an end.
Buck tried to console him by telling him that after his trial, he wouldn’t leave Tinhorn right away. “Most likely you’ll serve your sentence at the Huntsville Unit, and you’ll have to wait here till a deputy marshal gets here with a jail wagon to take you there.”
He heard someone come into the office then, so he left Ralph to his dinner and walked out of the cell room to find two strangers standing in front of his desk.
“Sheriff Jackson?” Ranger Henry Birch asked.
“That’s right.” Buck sized up him and his companion, a tendency that had become a habit after years as a lawman. “What can I do for you?” he asked the tall slim man with a considerable amount of gray in his mustache and sideburns.
“Henry Birch, Texas Ranger, Sheriff. This is my partner, Ranger John Duncan. We’re hopin’ to find some trace of Ranger Matt Conway, and maybe run Mrs. Ada Tubbs to ground.”
“I was wonderin’ why we hadn’t seen you Rangers before this,” Buck said. “Matter of fact, we thought Conway might show up here again, maybe with Ada Tubbs in tow. He seemed like a sensible young feller. I’d hate to think he came to harm at the hands of Ada Tubbs. You boys are here right after we had an attempted holdup of the bank. It might interest you to know one of the outlaws was Ada’s brother. We have reason to think she and her father are in cahoots with the other outlaws, south of here somewhere.”
John Duncan spoke up then. “We’d like to talk to this brother of Ada’s.”
“Sorry, he’s talkin’ to the devil right now. Didn’t but one of the robbers get away after that holdup.” Buck went on to tell them about the bank robbery and how the one survivor managed to escape. He summed it up by saying he strongly suspected Ada, her father, and her brother had joined up with the family of the one man who escaped. “And now, there ain’t no brother, so it’s just Ada and her pa.”
The two Rangers listened with great interest, and when Buck finished, Henry Birch asked a question. “Where is that deputy of yours? The one that took Conway to Ada Tubbs’ home, where Conway started following that trail of horses?”
“Flint? Why, he oughta be showin’ up here any minute now,” Buck said. “He went to his boardin’ house to eat dinner. What about you boys? You can still make dinner at Clara’s Kitchen.”
“Thank you just the same,” Birch said. “We had a little somethin’ when we stopped to rest the horses.”
Buck was about to tell them they were missing an opportunity for some good food, when Flint walked in the door. “Here’s Flint now. Flint, these two fellers are Texas Rangers and they’re hopin’ to find Ada.”
“Howdy, Flint,” Birch introduced himself. “I’m Henry Birch.” He nodded toward his partner. “He’s John Duncan. We was hopin’ you might take us to Ada’s home, so we could take a look at that trail Conway followed. You think you could do that?” He glanced at Buck then. “That is, if your boss says it’s all right.”
Buck didn’t comment, so Flint said, “Sure, I can take you out to the Trask place, if that’s what you want. But I’da thought you’d have better luck followin’ a trail on the other side of the river yonder.” He nodded toward the back of the office. “And it oughta be about three-and-a-half miles closer that way.” He looked at Buck and asked, “You tell ’em about the bank holdup?” Buck said he did, so Flint told them about the escape route Malcolm “Smith” and one or two others had taken. “That trail is a fresher one, and I think it leads to the same place that trail from the Trask place led to.”
“That sounds like somethin’ we’d wanna take a look at,” Birch said. “Can you take us over and show us the tracks?”
“Be glad to. We’ll ride over. It ain’t far, but you have to cross the river.” Flint led them out the door to the horses tied at the rail.
Buck followed them out but elected to stay at the jail and let Flint take care of the Rangers. They got on their horses and Flint led them across the open field to the bank of the Neches River, where he guided Buster across. On the other side, Flint dismounted and pointed out the tracks he felt sure were left by Malcolm during his retreat.
Still in the saddle, as was his partner, John Duncan remarked, “There’s a helluva lot of tracks along this bank, goin’ both ways. How do you know which ones are the tracks we’re lookin’ for?”
“Well, you know for sure you ain’t interested in the tracks headin’ north,” Flint answered him. “All you care about are the tracks headin’ south. And there are a lot of ’em goin’ that way, too. Most of ’em are old tracks from an attempted jailbreak. If you look a little closer, you can see tracks left by three or four horses, newer tracks. Those are the ones you wanna follow to be sure.”
“You’re pretty good at trackin’, ain’tcha?” Henry Birch asked.
Flint shrugged. “I don’t know. I never thought about it. I reckon anybody who’s done a lot of huntin’ has done some trackin’.”
“And you can identify Liam Trask and Ada Tubbs, too?” John Duncan added.
“Yeah, I can identify Trask, but you won’t have any trouble identifyin’ Ada,” Flint said.
“You’re the one who brought Ada Tubbs to Tyler and turned her over to the jail there,” Birch said. “How’d you like to help with her capture? I think we could use you on this job.”
“I wouldn’t mind goin’ along with you fellas, but it’d be up to the sheriff. He’s kinda strict about protectin’ the town. He hired me to help him do that, so it’s up to him. If he’s all right with it, I’d be willin’ to ride along with you.” Truth be told, he was eager to join in the hunt. “I’d have to get a packhorse. I don’t have any idea how far we’d be goin’.”
“All you need is a plate and a cup,” Birch said. “We’ve got enough chuck to feed half a dozen of us.”
Flint grinned. “It’s up to Buck. Whatever he says is fine by me. That’s where my paycheck comes from.”
“Fine,” Birch replied. “Let’s go back and talk to the sheriff.”
* * *
As Flint had suspected, Buck wasn’t too crazy about the idea. He had become quite comfortable knowing Flint was keeping an eye on the town, especially when he felt like retiring to his room early in the evening.
“I know it looks pretty peaceful here in Tinhorn right now,” Buck admitted, “but you can’t never know when you’re gonna get some half-crazy gunslinger come ridin’ into town. I had to do some high-powered arguin’ to get the town council to let me hire Flint, so he needs to be seen on the street all the time.”
“You’ve got a helluva reputation, Sheriff. It sure would be nice to be able to tell my captain how you cooperated with the Texas Rangers in the capture of Ada Tubbs. He’d most likely pass it on to the governor himself.” Birch paused when he saw Buck rolling that over in his mind. “Without him, we wouldn’t know Liam Trask if we did bump into him. Or Ada, either, if she was wearin’ a dress and wasn’t totin’ a gun.”
“Oh, hell. You wanna go after ’em?” Buck asked Flint.
Flint nodded in answer.
Buck gave in. “All right, but you’d better not get my deputy shot,” he said to the Rangers. “Flint, you watch yourself. Be careful what you walk into. There ain’t no tellin’ how many people are mixed up with that bunch of horse thieves and bank robbers.”
“Don’t worry. I have to come back. My room and board is paid up to the end of the month.” Flint turned to the two Rangers waiting for his answer. “You ready to get started? I’ll take a few minutes to go by my room to get my bedroll, a plate, and a cup, then I’ll meet you back here.”
* * *
They left Tinhorn and rode about eighteen miles before striking an old trail running east and west that had obviously been a commonly used road in years past but was rapidly being shrunk by weeds and small trees. The tracks they followed turned onto the old trail and headed east. Since it was time to rest the horses, they stopped at the first good stream and made their camp. Already late in the afternoon, it would be dark in an hour or less. They decided to stay there for the night.
John Duncan took on the responsibility for cooking supper, and Flint had to admit he did a pretty good job of it. They sat around the campfire, eating bacon, beans, and hardtack fried in the bacon grease. It was washed down with coffee strong enough to leave scratch marks on his throat.
After a couple of cups, Flint was inspired to remark, “I ain’t sure I’m man enough to be a Ranger, if you have to live with coffee this strong.”
Henry laughed. “That’s John’s idea of good coffee. It won’t be so rough when I make it”—he chuckled—“hell . . . if anybody else makes it. When John makes it, he just fills the whole pot up with coffee, then adds a little water if there’s any room left.”
“I notice you don’t ever spit any of it out,” John responded in his defense.
“That’s only because it’s so strong you can’t pucker up to spit,” Henry came back.
They all got a chuckle out of that.
Then Henry asked, “Flint, is that your first name or last?”
“First name. My name’s Flint Moran.”
“I’ll have to remember that when I’m writin’ up my report on this job and sayin’ as how you tracked Ada down like a bloodhound.”
“I expect you’d best wait to see if we find Ada.” Flint decided he liked the two Rangers. Henry, definitely the older one, seemed a patient man and one who would doggedly stay on a fugitive’s trail forever. John, on the other hand, appeared restless at times, impatient to get the job done. They seemed a good match for each other and probably made a good team.
The next morning, after a ride of only a little over a couple of hours the trail led them to the Angelina River. The outlaws hadn’t crossed the shallows. Instead, they’d followed the river south.
“It’s been a while since I was in this part of the state,” Henry remarked, “but I’d say Nacogdoches ain’t but about fifteen miles east of here.”
That was of slight interest to Flint because he had never been there. However, the tracks he continued to follow gave him no sign he might visit Nacogdoches any time soon. A few miles farther a small log cabin built on the bank of the river came in sight. As they approached it, they saw an old woman sitting in a rocking chair on the little porch.
“Mornin’, ma’am,” Henry called out when they pulled up even with the porch.
“Mornin’,” Aunt Minnie Brice returned. “You fellers lost?”
“Seems that way sometimes,” Henry answered, “but we ain’t lost. We know where we are, but we ain’t sure where we’re goin’.”
“Lawmen?”
“Yes, ma’am. Texas Rangers,” Henry answered.
“Then you ain’t lost. You’re headin’ in the right direction, and you ain’t but about ten or eleven miles short.” She reached down to pick up her spit can and spat a stream of snuff into it.
“What makes you say that?” John asked.
“You’re lookin’ for the Fletcher place, ain’t you?” Aunt Minnie responded. “I seen ’em ridin’ north the other day. And I seen ’em when they came back, but there wasn’t but three of ’em that came back. I reckon you settled with the rest of ’em. Did they get anything for their trouble?”
“No, ma’am,” Henry answered. “They tried to rob a bank, but they weren’t successful.”
“Well, there won’t be many folks around these parts that’ll be grievin’ over that,” Aunt Minnie remarked.
Since there was nothing left to ask the old woman—she had volunteered the last name of the party they’d followed and told them how far it was to his ranch—Henry saw no need to linger. “It was nice talkin’ to you, ma’am, but I guess we’d best move along. A good day to ya.” He gave his horse a nudge and started out again.
Flint and John gave Aunt Minnie a polite nod as they followed Henry out of the yard.
Back on the trail, Henry pulled back to let Flint lead, even though there was no need for Flint’s sharp eyes. They knew they were only a couple of hours away from the ranch of the man who now had a full name—Malcolm Fletcher.
John couldn’t resist japing his partner about the brief encounter with Aunt Minnie. “It sure took a long time for you to dig that information outta that old lady. I know I was impressed at how you finally got her to come out with all that information. Weren’t you, Flint?”
“It sounded to me like Malcolm Fletcher and his crew ain’t too popular with the other folks around here,” Flint remarked. “I would have expected her to close up like a clam if we had asked her how to find Malcolm Fletcher. Looks like you didn’t need me to ride along on this trip after all. Tracks so easy to see, you don’t even have to get off your horse, and an old woman who talks like a parrot—I’d better try not to get in the way.”
“It never hurts to have an extra gun with you when you don’t know for sure what you’re walkin’ into,” Henry told him. “Don’t worry. You’ll be all right.” He glanced at John and John nodded.
The Rangers had talked about the possibility of riding into a stronghold of outlaws to try to arrest Ada Tubbs. Maybe that was a question they should have asked the old lady on the porch. As it stood, all they knew for certain was three riders had escaped from the failed bank holdup. One of them was Malcolm Fletcher. They didn’t know who the other two were.
The other unknown was Flint Moran. The young deputy looked so much like deputies they had seen in other towns, little more than errand boys for the sheriff. How much they could depend on him in a gunfight was hard to say. On the night just passed, when Flint sought the solitude of the bushes to answer nature’s call, John reminded Henry the young deputy had been given the responsible job of transporting Ada to the Ranger station in Tyler. He had obviously successfully delivered her and was not carved up with a chisel like the guard Ada killed in Tyler.
Using the old lady’s information, the two Rangers decided to go only half the distance between her cabin and the Fletcher ranch. They preferred to rest their horses before riding on, not wishing to arrive at the ranch with tired horses. Had they known how many horses were grazing on three different pastures beyond the barn, they might not have worried. Flint might have advised them there were probably fifty extra horses at Fletcher’s, but he didn’t know for sure Trask and his son had driven them there. Anyway, he was not inclined to offer his opinions on how they should conduct their search for Ada. He figured the Rangers had a reliable approach to an arrest, and he was just along for the ride.