CHAPTER 9
Unaware that Ned Stark and three of his gunmen were making a visit to the jailhouse, Perley and Possum were talking to Ralph Wheeler about the possibility of forming a citizens’ protective committee. “Vigilantes are what you’re referring to, isn’t it?” Wheeler responded.
Perley shrugged. “Call it what you will. We’re talkin’ about a group of men who will protect their town from predators like Ned Stark. ’Cause when a gang of outlaws as big as the one Stark has lands on your doorstep, one sheriff can’t handle it without help.”
“I don’t know, Perley, it’s been a long time since I’ve fired a gun, and I expect it’s the same with most of the merchants in town. We’re getting too old to think about gunfights.”
“There’s still a few men around that are young enough to take up arms when the cause is to protect your homes and your families,” Possum insisted. “What we’re talkin’ about for you is to help organize the ones who will fight, if it’s necessary. You’re the mayor, so most everybody is already used to listenin’ to you, and you could head up the committee.”
“It looks like we’re gonna have to do something,” Wheeler said. “I have to agree with you there. It seems like it happened to us all of a sudden—shootings, fights, and destroying property. Tell you the truth, I’m beginning to think I used poor judgment in the hiring of John Mason.”
“I wouldn’t give up on Sheriff Mason too soon,” Perley said. “I think he has to know he has the backing of the whole town behind him. Right now, he thinks he’s alone in his fight against people like Stark. Make sure you invite him to come to the council meetings, let him know what’s goin’ on, and find out how to help him. I think he just needs to know he’s got backing, so he knows which side he’s on.”
“Maybe,” Wheeler allowed. “We never have asked him to come to any meetings we’ve had. I reckon it had to come to this problem with Stark’s gang for us to realize we’re gonna have to take a stand.” He paused, nodded a couple of times, and said, “I’ll contact the council for a meeting and see what we come up with. You’re invited.” Perley and Possum started to leave, but Wheeler stopped them. “Perley, how long are you gonna be here?”
“Well, I think some of the folks here think that I’m the problem because of the two gunfights I was in. But I plan to stay here till Bison Gap’s outlaw problem is settled, or till I’m told to leave—whichever one comes first.”
“I’ll let you know when the meeting’s set up,” Wheeler said and walked them to the door. Outside, Possum suggested they should talk to John Payne and Horace Brooks to get an idea if they were willing to back the sheriff. Before they stepped off the boardwalk in front of Wheeler’s, they felt the zip of a bullet pass between them and smash Wheeler’s window. Both men dived for cover at the same time they heard the report of the pistol.
“Yonder!” Possum shouted, “Between the jail and the saloon! Four of ’em!” Perley looked where he pointed and saw four men on horseback. Both he and Possum drew their handguns and fired at the riders, already galloping away along the creek bank, and already out of range for their pistols. When they had disappeared from view, Possum got up from beside the boardwalk and brushed the dirt off his trousers. When Perley got up, Possum said, “Danged if it ain’t got downright dangerous walkin’ around with you.”
“That shot passed right between us,” Perley replied. “How do you know they weren’t shootin’ at you?”
“I got a pretty good idea,” Possum said.
Thinking it safe to come out now, Wheeler came out complaining. “He shot out my window! Did you see who he was?”
“It weren’t a he,” Possum answered. “It were a them. There was four of ’em.”
“We’d best get down to the jail to see if they’re all right,” Perley said. “Those four mighta done for Floyd.” He started running toward the jail, and Possum followed. They heard Wheeler yelling behind them that he was going to call the meeting for that night.
* * *
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Ned Stark demanded after they had galloped their horses far enough to get out of sight and reined them back to a walk.
“Hell, open season,” Eli crowed. “You said it would be open season on that feller today. And you said that was him, coming out of the store. For a hundred bucks, it was worth a shot at him.”
“You damn fool,” Stark cursed him, barely able to control his rage. “We were way too far for an accurate shot with a handgun, and on a horse to boot. You ain’t got the brains of a stump. What you just did was cost us the chance to ride on into town where somebody could get a good shot at him. Now, thanks to you, we have to hightail it and try again some other day.”
Eli shrugged and said again, “It was worth a shot.”
“Who said you had the right to take that shot?” Jack Sledge asked.
“Hell, there weren’t nobody stoppin’ you from takin’ it, was there?” Eli responded.
“The rest of us had better sense than to throw a pistol shot at him from that distance. Like Ned just said, you’re dumb as a stump. Now that jasper is gonna be watchin’ for us every time he goes outside.”
“You know, Sledge, I ain’t sure I like your attitude when you’re mouthin’ off at me,” Eli informed him.
“Not likin’ it and doin’ somethin’ about it is two different things,” Sledge replied.
Tired of the bickering between the two, Stark finally barked, “You two wanna stop right here and see if you can kill each other? ’Cause I’m tired of hearin’ all that jawin’. Eli, you messed things up for all of us with that crazy shot. Now he knows who we are. He’ll be extra careful every time he steps out the door.”
“We was so far away, he couldn’ta got a good look at any of us,” Eli insisted.
“We just came from the sheriff’s office, you damn fool,” Stark had to point out. “Mason could tell him it was one of us—so could Floyd Jenkins. We’re all gonna have to be a lot more careful now to try to get a clean shot at him. You might have to ride into town and call him out in the street to see if you’re a better man than Curly or Quirt.” His comments gave all three of them something to think about, since all three knew how fast Curly and Quirt had been before they called Perley Gates out. Their best bet was an ambush or sniper shot.
Stark let them think about that as they rode back to the ranch. His mind was still working on who in town was the person, or persons, who called in this gunslinger. There was also Possum Smith to worry about. Mason said he came to town with Perley Gates. He might look harmless—old-looking, with his white beard and long hair in a braid, hanging between his shoulder blades. It was hard to tell how dangerous he was, however. The two of them were in pretty thick with the runty little blowhard, Rooster Crabb. Maybe Rooster was the one who sent for Perley Gates. To be safe, Stark decided it best to eliminate all three of them to get the town back the way it was.
* * *
While Stark was simmering over his aborted mission into town, Perley and Possum hurried across the creek to the jail, anxious about the prisoner’s condition. Sheriff Mason met them at the door. “I ran outside as soon as I heard the shot,” he said, “but they were already gone. So I don’t know who fired it. Did anybody get hit?”
“No, they missed,” Perley said as he walked on past him to go inside. “What about Floyd, is he all right?”
“Yeah, he’s all right,” Mason answered. “I wouldn’t let anythin’ happen to one of my prisoners.”
Perley wanted to see for himself, so he went into the cell room where he found Floyd alive but still shaken. “Are you all right?” Perley asked.
“Yeah, I reckon so,” Floyd replied, “if I count gettin’ scared out of my mind. That maniac drew his pistol, cocked it, and held it on me for what seemed like an hour, tryin’ to decide whether to shoot me or just scare me to death.”
“Sheriff Mason make him put it away?” Perley asked.
“Hell, no,” Floyd responded. “He wasn’t even in the room. He stayed out in the office. The only ones in here were Stark and one of his men, that big one that looks like he oughta be swinging in a tree in a jungle somewhere.”
That was disappointing news to Perley, causing him to think that maybe he had been holding on to too much hope for the sheriff’s turnaround. If he wasn’t strong enough to protect his own jail, how could he ever become strong enough to protect the whole town? “Did the sheriff say you had to stay in jail?”
“No,” Floyd answered. “He said I could go now, if I wanted to, but I didn’t want to, not with those killers in town. Now, I ain’t sure what’s best. I thought I was safe in jail, till I sat here lookin’ at that pistol stickin’ through the bars, pointed straight at me.”
Floyd’s accounting of the visit by Ned Stark and his three men caused great concern for Perley. He thought that jail cell was the safest place Floyd could be, and he knew he was responsible for making Floyd feel safe there as well. Now, it appeared he was wrong, dead wrong, had Stark pulled the trigger. It was doubly troubling because he thought the sheriff had the potential to stand up to his job. Part of his ploy to get the sheriff to arrest Floyd, and put him in jail, was to try to push Mason in the right direction. Well, my plan ain’t working, he thought, looks like it’s going to be up to the town council to save their town. Back to Floyd then, he asked, “What do you wanna do now? If you wanna go back to your place, I could stay with you tonight, if you want me to, or you could bunk in at the hotel, like Rooster does.”
“I do need to get my shop open again,” Floyd replied. “Today’s Saturday, and that’s usually a busy day in the barbershop.” He paused to insert, “And tomorrow’s Sunday, and I’m goin’ to church for damn sure. If you wouldn’t mind, maybe you could sleep in my place tonight. I’d surely appreciate it.”
“All right,” Perley said. “I’ll stay at your place tonight. I’ll bring my bedroll. I’ll go tell the sheriff to let you out.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Floyd said, “it ain’t locked.” He opened the door and came out of the cell. “I just thank the Good Lord Stark didn’t try to open it.”
“I’ll be leavin’ now, Sheriff, if there really ain’t no charges for what I did. I ’preciate your offer to let me stay again tonight, but Perley said he’d stay at my place tonight. That’s just in case Stark’s men come back again.”
Both Possum and the sheriff looked surprised when they heard that. “Wouldn’t it be better if you was to come to the hotel and stay with us?” Possum asked.
“Perley offered that, but like I told him, today’s Saturday, my busiest day, and I’m already late opening the barbershop. I expect I’ll be workin’ late tonight, so I’d rather stay at my place. Besides, they might charge me to stay at the hotel.”
“What about Stark and the other three?” Possum asked the sheriff. “Ain’t you goin’ after ’em? They took a shot at us. If you need a posse, I know me and Perley will ride with you, maybe get some other volunteers.”
Mason hesitated before answering. “If they were still in town, I’d most likely arrest ’em. But even if I did, we don’t know which one of ’em fired the shot. They could even swear that the gun went off by accident, so I figure there ain’t much sense in goin’ after them, since nobody got hurt.” Perley looked at Possum and shook his head. The sheriff’s answer was disappointing to hear.
As they walked out the door of the sheriff’s office, they were met by Richard Hoover, the postmaster’s son, on his way to the jail. Seeing them on the steps, the boy called out, “Mr. Wheeler sent me to tell everybody there’s a council meetin’ tonight after supper, seven o’clock, at the hotel dinin’ room. He said to be sure and tell you, Sheriff.”
“The dinin’ room?” Possum questioned. “I thought they used to hold those meetings in the Buffalo Hump.”
“I expect they shifted this one to the dinin’ room so Emma could attend,” Perley suggested.
“Hell, Emma’s got a lot more bark on her than that,” Possum remarked.
* * *
As everyone should have expected, including Emma Slocum, there were some who wanted the council meeting held in the saloon as in previous meetings. Foremost among the protesters was Henry Lawrence, quite naturally, since he was the owner of the Buffalo Hump. He maintained that nothing of any substance had ever been decided over a cup of coffee, and several of the others voiced their opinion that Henry was right. When it appeared attendance of this very important meeting might be seriously lacking, Ralph Wheeler found himself with the task of reporting the problem to Emma. She was surprised that afternoon when the desk clerk, Wilbur Ross, stuck his head in her office door to tell her that Wheeler was there to see her. She got up from her desk to receive him. “Afternoon, Ralph, what can I do for you?”
“Howdy, Emma,” he responded. “It’s about the special meeting of the council tonight.” She smiled and gave him her full attention. “There are going to be some hard choices we’ll be asking the members to make.”
“I understand that to be the case,” Emma said. “Possum told me about some of the problems that will be discussed. Is there something pertaining to the Bison House Hotel that you’re concerned about? Because I assure you that Possum and I as owners of the hotel are in full accord with what is best for Bison Gap.”
“Good, good,” Wheeler responded, “I knew we could count on your support.”
His voice trailed off and he appeared puzzled. “Ralph, is there something else?” she asked.
“Might as well, just spit it out,” he declared. “In a meeting like this, we’ve always needed a little bit of something stronger to drink than coffee. Strong drinks help make strong decisions.” He hesitated, trying to decide how to tell her the majority of the members didn’t want to meet in the dining room.
“That’s easy enough to fix,” she said. “Why don’t we have the meeting in the Buffalo Hump?”
Her suggestion caught him completely by surprise. “What? Why, with you being a lady and all, I was afraid you’d be offended and refuse to attend.”
She laughed. “I hope you’ll find that I’m just as much a lady in a saloon as I am anywhere else. There’s more room in the saloon, anyway, and Rachael will be delighted to hear you’ve decided to change the meeting site.”
“That’s mighty gracious of you to understand,” he said. “You’ll attend then?”
“Yes, indeed, I’ll be there, me and my partner, Mr. Possum Smith. We’re not gonna miss this meeting.”
* * *
After making sure Floyd Jenkins didn’t have any of Ned Stark’s men posing as barbershop customers waiting for him to open his door, Perley and Possum stopped by the hotel briefly before riding down to Rooster’s cabin to tell him about the meeting. He had left after breakfast that morning to return to his cabin to care for his stock. They knew he would be fighting mad if the town council held a meeting and he wasn’t there. In spite of the fact he was not an official member of the council, he made sure his complaints and suggestions were always heard. They found the little man slopping his hogs when they rode down the path from the creek-side trail.
“Hope we ain’t intrudin’ on a family reunion,” Possum called out to him.
Without missing a beat, Rooster answered right back. “Not at all. Relatives are always welcome. Just find you a place at the trough.”
Continuing the banter the two always seemed to enjoy, Possum said, “Me and Perley rode out here to tell you there’s a council meetin’ called for seven o’clock tonight at the Buffalo Hump. The members of the council, of which I am one, wanted me to tell you it’s for members only, so you ain’t invited.”
“Like hell, I ain’t!” Rooster erupted to Possum’s satisfaction. “I’ll have my say about it.” He hesitated, then asked, “What’s the meetin’ about?”
Perley answered him, “They’re finally gonna sit down and do some serious talk about settin’ up a vigilance committee to protect the town.”
“Well, it’s about time,” Rooster said. “I’ve been tellin’ Ralph Wheeler that for I don’t know how long. They already know I’ll ride with the vigilantes.”
After they talked about what might come as a result of this meeting, they told him about Ned Stark’s visit to town that morning and the fact that either him, or one of his men, had taken a shot at them when they were coming out of Wheeler’s Store. “Well, if that ain’t a sign we need that meetin’, I don’t know what is,” Rooster commented. They stayed with him, helping with some of his chores until it was getting around suppertime and he decided to go in with them to eat at the hotel.
“I’ve gotta go check on Floyd,” Perley said, “make sure he’s all right. He was a little shaky after his visit from Ned Stark this mornin’.” That led to a discussion about Stark’s visit to the jail and Perley promising to spend the night with Floyd.
“Whaddaya have to spend the night with him for?” Rooster asked.
“Stark came after him for proppin’ Curly’s body up outside his shop,” Perley said. “And Floyd said Stark came close to shootin’ him in his jail cell. So he’s scared Stark might still be plannin’ on comin’ after him, but I doubt he will now.”
Rooster saddled up his horse and the three friends rode into town. When they got there, Perley stopped at the barbershop to see how Floyd was getting along. He appeared to be fully recovered from his morning fright. Still working, he told Perley he’d fix himself something to eat and see him later at the meeting. So Perley went from there to the stable to put Buck away for the night, then he went to the hotel for supper. When he got there, Possum and Rooster were already eating, so he sat down at the table with them.
Seeing him come in, Rachael picked up the coffeepot and a cup, and brought it over. “Thank you, ma’ am,” he said, politely. “Reckon you’re disappointed to hear you ain’t gonna host the big council meeting tonight,” he japed.
“I wasn’t too tickled to hear Ralph Wheeler wanted to have it here in the first place,” Rachael claimed. “Just extra mess to clean up.” When Possum asked her if she was going to the meeting with Emma, she answered no. “Emma and you are the owners of this business, and I’m not likely to volunteer to ride with the vigilantes, so I reckon I’ll just be happy with whatever you and the others decide. Likely, nothing much will come of it, except Henry Lawrence will sell a lot of whiskey.”
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that,” Rooster remarked with a chuckle.
The discussion focused upon the possibility of the members finally deciding to take up arms and lasted long after supper was finished. When it was approaching seven o’clock, they left the dining room and walked down to the saloon. Ralph Wheeler was already sitting at the head of a long table that Henry Lawrence had arranged out of several small saloon tables pushed together. In deference to Emma Slocum, Ralph had pulled a chair up beside his to set her a little apart from the men. When Emma arrived a few minutes before seven, she went to the other end of the table to sit beside Possum, wishing to be treated as a partner and not a woman. Perley had to smile when Rooster went up to the head of the table and sat down in the chair set aside for Emma.
The meeting started on time, and right from the beginning, it was obvious that the topic to be discussed was of concern to everyone there. Henry Lawrence had taken the liberty of writing an oath of allegiance to the town of Bison Gap and a promise to defend it. After a brief paragraph stating that, he left spaces for everyone to sign the sheet, which he described as a contract to defend the town. It served its purpose, for the signing of the sheet turned into a solemn commitment to the future of Bison Gap. This, of course, came after a heated discussion of the recent course the town had taken toward a wide-open retreat for the lawless. Halfway through this discussion, a late arrival entered the meeting that caused a general pause in the call to arms. Starting near the front door, the noisy pockets of debate subsided like the ebbing of a wave as he moved toward the council table in the back of the room. “I’m sorry I’m late. I hope I’m not interrupting the meeting,” he said.
“Why, no, sir, Reverend Poole,” Ralph Wheeler responded, obviously flustered to see the Baptist minister appearing in the saloon, especially when practically all the men in town were there to pledge their intent to start a war. “We were just meeting to discuss some of the problems that needed to be fixed.” His initial thought was that the preacher couldn’t have come at a worse time. And his message of brotherly love and love thy neighbor had a time and place, and the place was in the church, not the saloon.
“I heard what the meeting was about,” Reverend Poole said. “And I came to join the vigilance committee. I own a rifle, and I know how to use it.”
There followed a moment of shocked silence, broken by a sudden burst from Rooster Crabb. “Hallelujah, Preacher! Have a drink of likker.”
“Maybe just one,” Poole said and sat down in a chair John Payne pulled out for him.
With the meeting taking on the new feeling of a righteous crusade, the sheet of signatures was soon filled with the names of volunteers. Many of the names were in spirit only due to age and physical capability, but there was a core of a dozen men who seemed capable of forming a home guard, ready to respond in force when trouble threatened. Future “training” meetings were scheduled to follow to organize an effective response. As interested as anyone there, Sheriff John Mason could not help but be amazed by the response of those in attendance and didn’t hesitate to volunteer when asked if he would help with the training meetings. It gave him a lot to think about, especially in regard to Ned Stark. He was startled momentarily when Perley leaned over his shoulder and spoke quietly, “Looks like you ain’t alone anymore.”