Cotton's Devil (9781101618523) (24 page)

He rounded the corner of the jail to cut through the alley and came face-to-face with Cotton. “Whoa, Jack, what's got you so bent?”

“Lucy! Melody's young girl from Kansas.”

“What about her?”

“J-James Lee Hogg! That bastard gave her a beating with the butt of his gun. Hogg's goin' to die and damned soon if I got anything to say about it.”

“You're sure it was Hogg?”

“Sure as you're standin' here takin' valuable time away from my finding that rattler and cuttin' off his head.”

“You're mad, I can see that. Goin' after someone who's a known killer when your head is full of hate is a good way for you to end up on your back. I can't have that.”

“Try and stop me!” Jack tried to push Cotton from his path. Cotton wasn't going anywhere. Jack took a swing.
Cotton dodged and landed a left cross on Jack's jaw that sent him ass over elbows into the dirt. He was rubbing his chin as he tried to get to his feet, lost his balance, and fell back. This time he sat, blinking.

“What the hell did you do that for?”

“I'm committed to savin' your life, you dimwit. Didn't you hear anything I just said?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Then brush yourself off and let's go inside and make a plan. I'll gather some men to spread out in town and look for Hogg. You start loadin' some rifles.” Cotton strode into the jail. Jack got to his knees, working his jaw to make sure nothing was broken, then got to his feet. He wobbled for a bit before finally getting a firm footing. He followed Cotton inside.

Melody burst into the jail, fuming and sputtering.

“What the hell are you doin' sittin' there as if a precious young woman was
not
beaten no more than ten feet from where we sleep every night? I told you what I wanted!”

“Sit down, Melody. We're workin' on a plan to corral this critter,” Jack said.

“I'll
not
sit down!” Melody screamed. “Not while that animal is roaming the streets!”

“We need to put togeth—” was all Jack could get out.

“You two haven't the guts to tackle that son of a bitch, and you know it!”

“Melody, either sit down and shut up or get the hell out of here!” Cotton roared. He slammed his fist down on the desktop. Jack jumped.

Startled by his unexpected response, Melody whirled around, hands on hips, and made a beeline for the door. The last thing she said as she exited was “Never mind! I'll handle that bastard myself!”

Jack started to get up, but Cotton put his hand on his shoulder.

“Let her go, Jack.
We'll
get him; I make you that promise.”

*  *  *

James Lee Hogg staggered into the dining room at the hotel. He saw Arthur Sanborn and dropped into a chair at his table. Sanborn gave him a serious frown, taking note of the man's bloody hands and the crimson on the butt of his gun.

“What has happened, James Lee? What have you done?”

“Nothin' much, Judge. Just a little dustup over at the saloon. I can handle it.”

“Was someone hurt? You have blood all over you. Go wash up.”

James Lee shrugged and stared across the room.

“If you've done something I can't undo, Mr. Hogg, you're on your own. You know that, don't you?”

“Yeah, uh, sure, Judge.”

James Lee pushed out of his chair and slumped out of the room by the back way. He left just as the mayor was coming into the dining room.

W
hen he saw Judge Arthur Sanborn sitting alone at a table in the hotel's dining room, Mayor Plume decided to take advantage of the opportunity to quiz the old man. Since he'd been in town, Judge Sanborn had scheduled no cases, nor had he indicated his preference for a place to hold such trials if he did.

“Judge, may I join you?”

“Why certainly, Mayor. Always happy to share a meal with a man of your caliber.”

“Thank you, thank you. You are
too
kind,” Plume gushed.

“You look as though you might have something on your mind. You looking to discuss anything in particular?”

Tugging at his collar in embarrassment for being so transparent, Mayor Plume cleared his throat and said, “As a matter of fact, Judge, there is a question I'm bound to bring up. That is to say a certain curiosity as to when you planned on having your first trial.”

“I'm gathering information as we speak, sir. And I'll happily announce the first such exhibition of a properly run
court's vital role in controlling the outlawry so often found in the Territory.”

Plume gave the old gent a curious stare.

“Uh, I assume you mean the rustlers and shootists that roam freely about to do their devilry.”

“Indeed, I do. Wherever there are men who take it upon themselves to place their own brand of justice on the populace, there will always be a need for a court to deal with those men in a proper manner.”

“And that manner is…?”

“Death, my good man. Death at the end of a rope or a gun.”

“Certainly whenever there is a death caused by such a man, a hanging is proper. But there is also a need to deal with petty thieves and vagrants who prey on merchants in less serious crimes, but crimes nevertheless.”

“Don't give a hoot about vagrants, sir. Murderers! That's all I'm interested in. And a spectacular hanging will be a good lesson to all who would indiscriminately impose their self-righteous authority upon the innocent.” Sanborn's face had turned red in his rant.

Plume could say nothing. He motioned for the waiter to bring him some coffee.

“I believe I understand what you're saying, Judge, but as a man not well versed in the law, I'm really more interested in what having a judge right in our midst might mean to the community. Whenever a court is in session in other towns our size, business usually picks up considerably. The folks would like that.”

“Ah, yes, I see where your interest lies.”

“So, is there a trial of someone that I haven't heard about coming soon?”

“As a matter of fact, yes there is. Very soon.”

“Wouldn't it be wise to set up a courtroom, then? The town doesn't have one, you know.”

“Won't need one. We'll hold the trial near where prisoners are normally incarcerated and the sentence carried out. For me, that will be on the street for everyone to see. It will be spectacular.”

“Y-you'd hold court in the street?”

“I believe that's what I said, yes.”

“But the dust and dirt from horses and wagons passing by would be most disruptive. Not to mention the sounds coming from the saloon, dogs barking, horses whinnying. I fail to see the advantage.”

“Fail as you will, sir. The site for my first trial is not only perfectly situated but most apropos.”

Sipping from his steaming cup, Mayor Plume displayed confusion and surprise that a judge would not wish his courtroom to be properly appointed with a bench, chairs for a jury, not to mention for the many onlookers who would undoubtedly wish to see the doings. It was obvious from the mayor's words that he was unaccustomed to the ways of the law. At least, Sanborn's interpretation of it. Sanborn abruptly set his empty cup on the table and wiped his mouth. With that, he excused himself.

“Good day to you, sir.”

Plume sat stunned at the conversation he'd just had with the town's new judge. He couldn't fathom how any judge worth his salt would actually believe holding court in the middle of the street would work to the court's favor, toward achieving a fair trial for some poor soul. His confusion also encompassed a fair amount of doubt about the sanity of such thinking. It just plain didn't seem judicial to him. If this man wasn't all he'd claimed to be, it was up to Mayor Orwell Plume to get to the bottom of it. If all was on the up-and-up, so be it. But if not, the sheriff should be told and appropriate action taken. Whatever the appropriate action might be Plume had absolutely no idea. Seeking out the sheriff was exactly what he intended to do.

Cotton's concerns about Sanborn being in Apache Springs were growing by the minute. After Jack made tracks for the saloon in an attempt to get Melody under control, the sheriff stood staring out the open door to the jail. He'd not seen Emily since she'd left to go back to the ranch. The latest
developments concerned exactly how dangerous things were becoming and how it appeared that James Lee Hogg was completely out of control. So Emily didn't yet know about the prostitute's beating at the hands of one Hogg. Cotton knew he should have learned his lesson after the problems that arose from his keeping secrets from her before, but that had had to do with his own actions, not the potential for several lives to be affected by someone else's actions. And the consequences thereof. He was scratching his head, considering if he should ride out and tell her, or send someone, when he saw Thorn McCann coming toward him.
I'm not certain I'm up to listenin' to McCann, right now
, the sheriff thought.

“Sheriff, got a minute? There's something I feel obliged to discuss with you.”

Cotton knew he was trapped. He just shrugged, went back inside, and dropped into the chair at his desk. He waved Thorn to a chair and offered him some coffee, which was declined.

“All right, McCann, what's on your mind?”

“Delilah.”

“What about her?”

“For starters, she's the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Nice to hear it, but I fail to see how that affects me. Or why I might find it noteworthy.”

“I reckon you won't, but there's a point to all this if you'll hear me out.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“You'll be glad you did, assuming you'll give me your undivided attention for ten minutes.”

“You got ten minutes.”

“I got more than that, I got a proposition.”

“Huh?”

“I seem to be a big part of the troubles that have been visited on you. If I hadn't found out from Bart Havens where you were when he hired me to help take you down, Arthur Sanborn would never have known how to find you. That old reprobate would still be lookin'.”

“You told Sanborn?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. Since he'd hired me to find you and bring you back to Texas, he asked if I had any idea where to start lookin'. I told him I'd hired on with a man named Havens to track you and that Havens might know. He told me to stay in touch.”

“And you did?”

“Not exactly. When I realized takin' you back to Texas was the wrong thing to do, as well as dangerous as hell, I sent Sanborn a telegram sayin' I was no longer workin' for him. I told him I thought you were a good man and didn't deserve what he had planned for you.”

“And he figured out where you were by where the telegram came from. He also figured out we'd met by your judgment of my character. That about the way it happened?”

Thorn hung his head and bit his lip. “Uh-huh.”

“Your ten minutes are up. Go back to Delilah. She'll give you more sympathy than you're goin' to get here.”

“I'm not lookin' for nothin' except a chance to make things right.”

“And how do you figure on doin' that?”

“I got a friend in Santa Fe who owes me a favor. A big favor. He works for the governor.”

“Go on.”

“I got a hunch there's something smelly about Sanborn bein' made circuit judge. I'd be willin' to ride up there and maybe get a look-see at the appointment he's claimin' to have received. If you think that'd help matters any.”

Cotton rubbed his chin pensively. He slowly began nodding his head.

“Matter of fact, I think it might help. And it
could
answer a whole passel of questions. Get some supplies from the general store and charge it to the town. Let me know the moment you find anything out, whether you figure it'll be helpful or not. And the sooner the better. Oh, and take the Butterfield. You still look a tad peaked after your run-in with the Indians.”