Thomas ran through town, intent on getting to the jailhouse as soon as possible—hopefully in time to keep Red Fleming from breaking his brother out of jail. The only person there to stop him was the odd job man, Harvey Ludlow.
He got to the jail and burst through the front door, drawing his gun as he went. He needn’t have bothered. It was quiet. Nothing seemed amiss, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. He moved slowly toward the door to the cell block, peered inside, saw that none of the cells had open doors. Maybe he had somehow beaten Red Fleming there.
He entered the block, noticing a form on the cot in Harry Fleming’s cell—but he was sure it wasn’t Fleming.
“Ah, no,” he said, opening the door and rushing into the cell. He grabbed the man and turned him over. It was Harvey, and he was dead, stabbed.
“Damn it, Harvey.”
He left the cell, ran to the back door of the jailhouse and out into the alley. It was deserted, but there in the dirt were the tracks of two horses. Red Fleming had killed Harvey, and gotten away with his brother, Harry.
Thomas ran back through the jailhouse, hurrying back up the street toward the saloon.
As Shaye and James exited the saloon, leaving Candy and the other Fleming men inside, they saw Thomas running toward them.
“What happened?” Shaye asked.
“Fleming,” Thomas said, out of breath. “He killed Harvey and got his brother out. They’re gone.”
“Harvey’s dead?” James said, shocked.
The three Shayes stood there for a moment in silence.
“He used all that talk about him bein’ a fast gun to outsmart me,” Shaye finally said.
“He outsmarted all of us,” James said.
“What about these others?” Thomas asked. “Do you think they know where he’s goin’?”
“Probably not,” Shaye said, “but there’s that one, called Candy . . . Let’s go back inside and ask.”
They went into the Renegade and saw five men still standing at the bar. The sixth man, Candy, was gone.
“Okay, boys,” Shaye said, “new plan.”
The men turned to look at Shaye and his sons.
“You again?”
“I want you to put your guns on the bar,” Shaye said. “Hold them with two fingers, please.”
The men didn’t move, but they also didn’t have Candy to look to for guidance.
“It’s five to three now, fellas,” Thomas said. “You can’t like the odds.”
For a moment Thomas thought the men would go for their guns, but one by one they laid their pistols and rifles on the bar, holding them with two fingers.
“Bartender,” Shaye said, “collect that iron before somebody gets brave, please, and stow it below the bar.”
“Yessir,” the bartender said. He gathered all the guns and quickly removed them from the bar.
“Okay,” Shaye said, “now we can talk without anybody gettin’ stupid. You.” He pointed to one man, the one who’d made the comment about the stray dog. “What’s your name?”
“Bentley.”
“Okay, Bentley,” Shaye said, “where was your boss goin’ after he broke his brother out?”
“I dunno,” the man said. “He didn’t tell us stuff like that.”
“We was just a distraction,” another man said.
“And you already got paid?” Thomas asked.
Bentley nodded.
“What about Candy?” Shaye asked.
“He went out the back after you went out the front,” Bentley said.
“Is he goin’ to meet the Flemings?” Shaye asked.
“Probably,” Bentley said. “He’s been ridin’ with them a long time.”
“And he never said where they were goin’?”
“Never,” Bentley said. “Red would kill him if he talked.”
Shaye exchanged a glance with each of his boys, then looked at the men again.
“Okay,” Shaye said, “your visit to Vengeance Creek is officially over. I want you all out of town within the hour.”
“What about our guns?” one man asked.
“You’ll get them back as you ride out,” Shaye said, “unloaded. Try the north end.”
He turned to leave, and his sons followed.
“What do we do now?” Thomas asked when they got outside.
“I should put together a posse,” Shaye said, “but that’ll take time.”
“And all I have to do is saddle my horse,” Thomas said.
“Do a little more than that, Thomas,” Shaye said. “Outfit yourself. It may take you a few days, or longer, to track them.”
“Right. What about you?”
“I have to stay in town,” Shaye said. “I told the mayor I’d be here if and when Cole Doucette comes to town.”
“Okay, then,” Thomas said. “You two be careful.”
“And you,” James said, looking concerned.
Thomas ran off down the street toward the livery.
“Pa, don’t you think I should go with him?” James asked, turning to his father.
“No,” Shaye said, putting his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I’ve got another job for you.”
“What?”
“Thomas is gonna track the Flemings,” Shaye said. “I want you to track Candy.”
“But . . . how? I’m no tracker.”
“You know what I’ve taught you, James,” Shaye said. “Candy went out the back door. That means he must have had a horse there.”
“Okay,” James said. “So Thomas has to track the two Flemings alone, and I leave you here to face Cole Doucette by yourself.”
“With any luck at all,” Shaye said, “Candy will lead you to the Flemings and Thomas. Together, you’ll be able to take them.”
“And you?” James asked. “What if Doucette gets here with a gang? And what if the mayor’s just jumpin’ at shadows, and Cole Doucette’s not comin’ here at all?”
“Look, son, that’s a chance we’ll have to take,” Shaye said.
“But Pa—”
“I made the mayor a promise. So go saddle your horse.”
“Yessir.”
James knew better than to argue when his father had his mind set on something.