BLACK FEATHER ROSE WITH A START as he heard a horse gallop into the village. He rushed outside and could just make out Coal in the early morning glow beginning to light the eastern sky.
“Coal! Come here, boy!”
The big horse trotted to him, his head moving up and down with a quiet nicker.
“Easy.” Black Feather took Coal’s reins from the saddle horn and rubbed Coal’s nose and cheeks. He whispered soothing words and patted the lathered neck until the big horse calmed, then led him to the lake so he could drink.
Rain Water’s steps were soft, but Black Feather always recognized them. “Where is Fire Hawk?”
“I do not know, Mother, but he must be in trouble.” He un-cinched the saddle and set it on the grass. “Coal has come to take me to him.”
“I fear for him, Black Feather. There are too many enemies for him to face alone.”
Wind Runner and Claw Of The Eagle came running.
“Is Fire Hawk hurt?” Wind Runner asked.
“I do not know, but I must prepare for a long ride to find my brother.”
“We are going with you, Black Feather,” Wind Runner said.
“It is not necessary for you to go.”
“Yes it is,” Claw Of The Eagle folded his arms across his chest. “Fire Hawk treated our wives as his sisters. That makes him our brother.”
Black Feather looked at the two warriors. “Then we will go together. Go prepare to ride and to fight. We’ll leave as soon as Coal is rested.”
“I will send a rider to tell Gale Jasper he is in trouble,” Rain Water said. Then she opened her arms to the men. “Warriors, may the spirits guide you...bring my son home.”
“Wake up, Lee! You have a visitor,” the jailer shouted.
Jasper sat up on his cot. A short man with horned rimmed spectacles stepped up to the iron bars. He looked no older than sixteen years. An over-sized broadcloth shirt was stuffed into baggy nankeen trousers that hit his leg just above the ankle, showing off shoes that even an expert cobbler wouldn’t have been able to fix. The state of a suit coat that barely buttoned over his thin frame matched the condition of the shoes.
“Hello, Mr. Lee. I’m Willis Harwick, lawyer and counselor at law. I hear you’ve been looking for a legal counsel but no one will take your case.”
“I don’t mean any offense, Mr. Harwick, but are you sure you’re old enough to be a lawyer?”
“Why yes, sir. I’m twenty-eight years old and a graduate of Harvard Law School. I was admitted to the bar nine months ago. I know that doesn’t indicate a wealth of experience but I assure you no one would fight harder for your rights.”
Jasper looked the young man over and remembered the words of Hawk. Do not judge every one by how they look. The outwardly meek often have great strength and courage in their hearts. Trust those with clear eyes and clean tongue…
“Well, at least you’re honest about it. What’s your fee?”
“Uh, honestly, Mr. Lee I haven’t really thought about it.”
“What do you usually charge?”
Willis glanced at his feet and interlaced his fingers in front of him so tight Jasper thought he might break them off. He took a deep breath. “To be perfectly honest with you, Mr. Lee, you would be my first client.”
Jasper’s eyebrows raised as he breathed in and released a deep breath. He considered Harwick’s words for a moment, thinking the man’s resume was a might short, but his heart was true. “One last question. Do you know what’s goin’ on here?”
“Why, yes, you’ve been charged with thirteen counts of murder.”
“Where did these murders supposedly take place?”
“I don’t know yet. Somewhere in Kent County, I assume.”
“Actually, the gunfight took place in Cassidy County and only one person knows who killed those men.”
“If that’s true it presents significant legal issues for the prosecution to overcome.”
“It really doesn’t because I’m bein’ railroaded. If you take my case you’ll be up against a corrupt government. It could get dangerous.”
Willis straightened his back and a resolve and fire lit his eyes. “Well, sir, I became a lawyer to do some good in this world. I’ve heard rumors about the corruption here. I would be honored to fight such monstrosity on your behalf.”
“Okay, Mr. Harwick, you’re hired.” Jasper reached down, loosened the top of his moccasin and removed a strip of cowhide holding gold coins. He counted five coins and handed them through the bars. “That should get us started.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Willis…”
“Yes, sir?”
“Call me Jasper.”
“Thank you, Jasper. ”Willis reached through the bars and shook Jasper’s hand. “You won’t be sorry.”
“Here’s an extra forty dollars. Get yourself fixed up with some decent clothes. I want my lawyer at least dressed as well as the lawyer against me.”
Willis’ face tightened and flushed as he fought back tears. “Thank you, Jasper.
Two days later Stan rode into Kentville. The warmth as the sun climbed into the sky replaced the chill he felt when he left Fort Hurley in the early morning. In his inside vest pocket he carried two “John Doe” warrants that authorized the arrest of the men matching the description of the killers.
He pulled up at Mrs. Colson’s Boarding House and Restaurant, dismounted and went inside, taking a table at the window with a view of the Governor’s office.
A teen aged girl walked up to him. “What can I get you, sir?”
“I’d like some steak and eggs with coffee, please.”
“Breakfast comes with some of mom’s fried potatoes, if that’s okay?”
“That would be fine.”
“I’ll get the coffee right up for you.”
Stan leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs. The girl set his coffee on the table. He took a sip and watched the people and traffic on the street. He was hoping to confront the suspects in front of the governor’s office to minimize the chance of gun play. The governor’s men taking on the US Marshal in front of so many people would be bad publicity for the politician.
Ten minutes later the girl brought his breakfast. “Did you hear the news about the big trial?”
“No, can’t say I have.”
“They caught that gunfighter, Jasper Lee. They say he killed thirteen men.”
“Hmm, that’s interesting.” Stan picked up his fork. “Thanks for the news, young lady.”
“You’re welcome, sir. Enjoy your breakfast.”
Stan ate his breakfast thinking about Jasper Lee. He found it interesting that a case had been made when as far as he knew no investigation had been done. As he sipped on another cup of coffee, the governor’s buggy rolled down the street with his escorts. Stan stood and dropped two dollars on the table, then he walked out into the street.
He approached the governor’s carriage but two men stepped in front of him. They matched the descriptions Bernie had given him. “I need to see the governor.”
“Yeah, doesn’t everyone. Make an appointment,” the man with the scar sneered.
The governor stepped out of the coach.
“Governor!” Stan yelled.
The man with the scar cocked back to throw a punch, but a kick to the groin dropped him to the ground. The second man grabbed the grip of his pistol but before he could clear leather he was staring down the barrel of Stan’s Colt.
“United States Marshal! Don’t move!”
The man let go of his gun and raised his hands.
“What’s the meaning of this!” The governor roared.
“I’m Stan Barstow, United States Marshal.” He knelt and manacled the hands of the man with the scar who lay moaning in the fetal position. “I’m arresting this man for the murder of a deputy town marshal.” Stan removed the man’s gun and saw it was a .41 Remington.
“Murder, why t-that’s preposterous!” the governor stammered.
Stan showed the governor the warrant. “Not hardly, Governor.”
“Well, these warrants have no names, only descriptions. This is hardly proper.”
“You’ll have to take that up with Judge Abramson of the federal district court, sir. For now these men are under arrest.” He turned to the other man. “I need to take a look at your gun.”
The man hesitated.
“Do as the marshal says, Carlos,” the governor ordered. “We have nothing to hide.”
Using two fingers, Carlos pulled his Army Colt and handed it to Stan.
Stan looked on the barrel and saw it was a 44-40 caliber. “You’re under arrest, too, Carlos.” He turned the man around and tied his hands with a leather tong, one of several he carried in his back pocket.
Norris puffed out his chest and stepped toward Stan. “I don’t take kindly to you arresting my two best men.”
“And I don’t take too damn kindly to my deputy being shot in the back!”
The governor’s face flushed bright red. A crowd had formed and he looked around and then straightened his coat and tie. “I’m sure this is all a mistake and we will get it rectified. Don’t worry men, my lawyers will have you out of jail before your cots are warm.”
Stan helped the man he kicked stand up. “What’s your name?”
“Reece Burton.”
“Well Reece, you’re under arrest for the murder of Deputy Coy Jeffers.”
“Carlos, what’s your last name.”
“McElroy.”
“You’re under arrest for the murder of Rich Delton. Get on your horses.” Stan helped both men get mounted, tied their hands to their saddle horns then led their horses to his. He took a rope and hitched the horses in tow with his, mounted and headed out of town at a fast trot.
As he headed out Sheriff Lock rode up to him.
“What’s goin’ on?”
“I’m United States Marshal Stan Barstow. These men are my prisoners.”
“You’re shittin’ me!”
“No, I’m not.”
“Well, bud, I think you just bought yourself a whole heap of trouble.”
“Thanks for the tip.” Stan spurred his horse past the sheriff. When he looked back the sheriff was headed for the governor’s office.
The governor was already in a bad mood when his nephew came through the back door to his office.
“What in hell are you doing here? I told you to stay at the ranch.”
“Your foreman kicked me off the ranch just because a couple of cowboys don’t like me.”
“Goddamn it! Things are going to hell around here! Can’t you even...”
A knock at the front door interrupted Norris’ tirade at Moore.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Sheriff Lock, Governor.”
“Get in here, Morey.”
Lock stepped in and closed the door.
“I take it you saw the new US Marshal taking Carlos and Reece out of town.”
“Yes, sir. I did.”
“This is serious. Those two know too much and that marshal is too damn smart for his own good.”
“Whaddya want to do?” Lock took off his hat and wiped his forehead.
“The marshal can’t make it back to Fort Hurley with Carlos and Reece. You got enough spare men to take care of that?”
“No, sir, I don’t. Not for a job like that. The most I have for it is two men.”
Moore rested his fists on the governor’s desk. “My men and I can take care of it, Uncle.”
The governor leaned toward the outlaw. “Get your hands off my desk.”
Bart jumped back and looked down at the governor.
Norris stared back until Moore looked down at the floor and shuffled his feet.
The governor turned to Lock. “Morey, get your men and meet back here. Bart you do the same.”
“Don’t worry Uncle Cornell, I’ll take care of it.”
“You’re not doing a damn thing except staying here with me where I can keep an eye on you.”
“Uncle, this is my kind of job. I can do it right.”
The governor thought for a minute. “How many men do you have?”
“Four.”
“All right, Morey tell your men Bart is in charge. Bart, I want you to kill all three, the marshal, Reece and Carlos. Make it look like some bandits ambushed them. I just don’t want any witnesses. You understand?”
“Yeah, I understand.”
“Set the ambush just this side of the Ft. Hurley junction. That’s far enough away so it won’t be able to be traced back here. Do a good job of burying the bodies.”
“I’ll go get my men,” Moore said as he started toward the back door.
“And tell the men they’ll get an extra fifty dollars if the job is done right.”
“Yes, sir, Uncle Cornell.” Moore rushed out of the office.
“Morey,” the governor scribbled a note for the judge. Before you get your men, go give this to the judge. I want to make sure the trial starts today. We gotta keep the folks thinking about Jasper Lee while we finish the rest of our business.”
Lock took the note. “I’ll take care of it.”