Rosa's Land: Western Justice - book 1 (15 page)

A hand grabbed Riordan, who was in a deep sleep, and he came up fighting and striking out.

“Keep your hands to yourself!”

Riordan sat up in bed, and by the lantern that the man was holding, he saw that it was Heck Thomas, probably the best of Judge Parker’s marshals. He always got his man, though not always alive. “What is it, Marshal?”

“Get up. Get your clothes on and get your gun.”

“What for?”

“You’re going to ride with me on a little job. I’m going to give you a taste of what it’s like on the scout.”

Riordan at once came off the bed and began to throw his clothes on. He strapped on his pistol, his rifle, and followed Heck out.

“Get yourself a horse.”

“I know which one I want, Marshal. Maggie over there.”

“That ain’t no horse. She’s just a big pet.”

“Well, she’s not mean and she doesn’t buck, and you know, Marshal, I’m not very good with horses.”

“Well, throw a saddle on her. She looks strong enough. I guess she can keep up.”

Quickly Riordan saddled up.

Heck, who was sitting down smoking a cigarette, said, “Go in the kitchen there and get us some grub. Enough to last two or three days.”

“What kind?”

“Anything we can keep down.”

Quickly Riordan went into the kitchen, grabbed two sacks, and filled them with things they might use on the trail. He threw in some dried beans, bacon, some hard rolls, some salt meat, and several other things.

When he returned outside, Thomas said, “Okay, let’s go.”

They left before the sun peeped over the western ridge. Riordan kept waiting for Thomas to tell him something about what they were after, but Thomas said nothing.

All morning all Riordan heard was, “Catch up! Put the spurs on that nag. We ain’t got all day. You ride like a squaw!”

Since this was fairly well true, Riordan could hardly answer, so he kept up as best he could. When they stopped for a meal, he did the cooking, which amounted to frying some bacon and slicing some biscuits he had brought and breaking out a bottle of honey. They ate the crunchy bacon, poured honey all over the biscuits, and got their hands all sticky. As soon as they were through, they sat there drinking coffee.

Heck stared at him for a moment then said, “We’re out for Sudden Sam Biggers.”

“Is he an outlaw?”

“Well, not much of one. He’s pretty small potatoes, but we’ve got to pick him up.”

“You think there’ll be any shooting?”

“No, Sam ain’t a killer.” He took another bite of biscuit and then wiped the honey from his lips and mustache. “But he’s got a brother who is. His name’s Hardy. He’s a mean one, and they got a cousin, Dent Smith, that’s rough enough to suit anybody. If we catch them, we’ll serve the papers on Sam, get the cuffs on him, and bring him home.”

“What if his brother’s there or this cousin of his?”

“Well, we’ll have to do it anyway.”

Riordan began cleaning the frying pan and then stored it away, for he knew they would leave as soon as possible. “Has this Sudden Sam ever killed anybody?”

“Nope.”

“What’s he wanted for?”

“He’s wanted ‘cause he robbed Jim Tyler’s widow.” Heck’s eyes glinted with anger. “He was my partner, Jim was, as good a man as I ever had. He got killed by Henry the Fox. I’m going to stop that gentleman’s clock. You see if I don’t! I’ll get him sooner or later.”

“Henry the Fox? What is he?”

“He’s the roughest outlaw in the Territory. His real name is Henry Beecher.”

“And he’s the worst man in the Territory?”

“Yeah, I reckon he is, and that’s saying a lot. He’s got some pretty bad ones working for him. Sal Maglie, Hack Wilson, Red Lyle. A couple more. When they get together it’d take an army to stop ‘em. They’re all tough. They can all shoot.”

After putting the remnants of the food and the utensils away in the pack and tying it on the saddle horn, Riordan climbed on his horse. When Heck came up beside him, he said, “How much did Sudden Sam steal?”

“Two hundred and fifty dollars … and two chickens.”

The report amused Riordan. “So we’re out after a chicken thief?”

“No,” Heck said, his voice hard, “we’re after a low-down skunk who stole from my partner’s widow, and I intend to have his hide for it. We’ll put him where the dogs don’t bite him.”

“Is he fast with a gun, this Sudden Sam?”

“Not a bit. He’s slow as mud.” He laughed harshly. “Why, you could get a shave and a haircut while he’s pulling a gun. But his brother, Hardy, he’s fast as lightning, and so is their cousin, Dent. You just let me handle them if we happen to run into ‘em. They’d shoot you before you could pull a gun.”

Riordan was cooking the last of their bacon and heating the last of their beans. They had traveled hard for three days with no success. Heck had spoken very little, so Riordan had kept his own counsel. Now he put the beans and bacon onto the tin plates and poured the coffee into the tin cups and walked over. “Marshal Thomas, got the grub.”

Heck had been lying down taking a nap. He got up stiffly, stretched, and looked down at the meal. “That ain’t much,” he said.

“It’s all we got, Marshal.”

“Well, we got to have grub. I’ll tell you what.” He picked his plate up and began shoveling the beans into his mouth at a fierce rate and washing them down with boiling coffee. He seemed to have no feeling in his mouth. It was said that Heck Thomas could drink coffee boiling straight out of the pot. “We’ll go over to Mason Peterson’s store. It ain’t but about ten miles. We can get what we need.”

Riordan made sure the fire was out, climbed on board Maggie, and said, “Get up!”

Heck was amused. “One thing. There ain’t no danger of that horse gettin’ a bit between her teeth and runnin’ off with you.”

“No, she’s a lady, she is.”

“I never rode her, but she holds up pretty good.”

“She’s a strong girl.”

“What are you doing out here anyway?”

Riordan was surprised. “What do you mean … out here in the prairie with you?”

“No, why are you washing dishes and shoveling refuse when you could be doing something easy? You got some education. You been to college?”

“Yes, a little.”

“What you doin’ out here then? You could work in an office.”

“I did help out some in an office at my dad’s factory when I was younger. Couldn’t stand it. Got bored stiff.”

Heck suddenly grinned. “If we run into Henry the Fox you won’t be bored stiff.”

“Well, have you ever gotten close to him?”

“Oh yeah. Traded shots with him, but both of us missed. He’s a slick one, he is. Not very big. He’s got small eyes, and they’re green. He’s not heavy. He’s kind of built like a—I don’t know, like a panther or something. That’s why they call him the Fox, I guess.”

They rode on for a time as Heck Thomas described Henry the Fox in his wrongdoings, and finally he said, “You ought to quit this. Go on back and do something that pays more. You’re not going to be shoveling out horse stalls the rest of your life, are you?”

“I hope not.”

“Why do you want to be a marshal?”

“I’ve never done anything hard. Everything’s come easy to me, and I wanted to find out if I could do something hard.”

“Well, you picked a good one. Not what you’re doing now, washing dishes, but if we run into some of these outlaws, or wild Indians, you’ll find out if you can take it hard. What if you can’t?”

Riordan took a deep breath and looked over at Thomas. “Well, I’ll have to spend the rest of my life doing something I don’t want to do.”

“Most of us do that anyway.”

They reached the makeshift store a few hours later. Mason Peterson served them himself. They were able to get coffee, beans, salt meat, and a few other things.

After they had acquired all the goods they could think of, Thomas said, “Mason, we’re on the scout looking for Sudden Sam Biggers. You seen him?”

Mason was a well-built man. He had lost most of his hair but was not bad looking. “Why, it’s funny you should ask, Marshal. He was in here yesterday with his brother Hardy and Dent Smith.”

“Aw, we just missed ‘em.”

“Well, I can tell you where he’s going. I heard ‘em talking. They’re going for Sam’s cabin.”

Heck looked glum and shook his head. “I was hoping to catch Sam alone. It’d be easier to take him in.”

“Well, Dent and Hardy won’t take easy, but you know that.”

“Thanks a lot, Mason.”

The two went outside and loaded the grub and other supplies. Heck was quiet.

“What’s the matter, Marshal?”

“Blast it! Seems like everything goes wrong. It’d be easy to take in Sudden Sam, but there’ll be three of ‘em. If we bump up against ‘em, and it comes down to facin’ ‘em off, you try to keep Sam. Even you can outdraw him.”

“You want me to shoot him?”

“Well I don’t want you to powder his nose! What do you mean? Don’t you know what we’re up against here?”

“Well, what about the other two?”

Heck was silent. “I can’t beat ‘em both. I don’t know what it’ll be like, but that’s what it is bein’ a marshal.”

“I wish you had a good man along instead of me.”

“You keep Sam off of me, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

For the next few hours they rode in a westward direction. There was no question of getting lost because Heck knew exactly where Dent Smith’s cabin was.

They stopped late in the afternoon at a stream on the lee side of a mountain. As they watered their horses, Riordan pulled some cheese and crackers out of the sack, and the two munched on them. After they had finished, Thomas brushed the cracker crumbs from his mustache and said, “We’re getting pretty close. We’ll reach the cabin before dark. I don’t want to take ‘em on after nightfall, so we’ll get ‘em out before then.”

They continued riding, passing a herd of deer feeding off the bark of saplings, and after a while Thomas threw up his hands and said, “There it is.”

“I don’t see any cabin.”

“That’s it.”

“That’s not a cabin.”

“Well, I guess you might say it’s a cave. A dugout.”

It was a small structure only about ten feet by twenty. Half of it was sunk back into a clay bank. The part that was sticking out was poles and sod and a roof of sod supported by a center pole. There was a shed adjoining it, and the horses were stamping and blowing out their breath.

“Look there. They got a fire going. Must be cooking.” He suddenly said, “Take that coat off.”

Surprised, Riordan took off his coat.

“Now, take a side approach. Climb up that hill, get up on top, and put that coat on that pipe sticking out up there where the smoke’s comin’ out. That’ll go back and smoke ‘em out. As soon as you get the pipe covered, come back here. We’ll catch ‘em as they come out the door.”

Quickly Riordan did as he was ordered. The slope was not steep. He stepped out upon the sod roof carefully. It held his weight, so he put the coat over the pipe sticking up. He saw it was going to drive the smoke back, so turning he made his way back to Thomas.

“Don’t stand close to me. Get over there about ten feet away.”

Riordan’s nerves grew tense. Soon he heard coughing, and the door burst open and two men came out.

“One of ‘em is still in there,” Heck complained. “That’s Sudden Sam on the left and his brother Hardy on the right. You watch out for Sam. I’ll take care of Hardy.”

Suddenly Thomas raised his voice. “This is Heck Thomas, Sam. I’m takin’ you in!”

“You ain’t takin’ nobody in!” The voice was rough, and it was Hardy who spoke. “Sam ain’t done nothin’.”

“Hardy, you stand away. I’ve got no trouble to pick with you, but I’m taking Sam in.”

“No, you ain’t.”

What happened then was so quick that Riordan could not logically follow it. He was watching Sam, but then out of the corner of his eye he saw Hardy draw his gun. Heck must have drawn his own because he got his shot off first, which drove Hardy backward.

Riordan then saw, at almost the same moment, another man come out of the cabin. He knew it must be Dent Smith. He was holding a rifle up, aiming right at Heck when Heck shot Hardy. Without thought, Riordan pulled his gun and in one practiced motion got off a shot. It caught Dent Smith in the throat. He dropped the rifle and fell back gurgling. He grabbled around on the ground, trying to speak but making only unintelligible noises.

Heck went over and kicked Dent’s rifle away and looked down. “Well, you’ve kilt your last man, Dent Smith.”

Riordan looked down at the man he had shot. He was sick, but he knew that he had done what had to be done. “I didn’t want to kill him,” he said hoarsely.

Heck shook his head. “You didn’t have no choice.” They watched as Dent Smith died, finally stiffening into that attitude of death. Heck Thomas turned and said, “Well, this bothers you, don’t it, boy?”

“Yes, sir, it does.”

“You never shot a man before?”

“No, I never did.”

“Well, it’ll bother you some. It goes like that. It did when I got my first man. But Dent Smith is a bad one. He’s killed four men and one woman, and he would have added me to his score if you hadn’t got him. I know it’s going to be hard for you, but you done good. As good as any marshal could have done.” He sighed then nodded at Sudden Sam and said, “Let’s get this worthless critter in the pokey.”