The Taylor County War (11 page)

“I will let that aspersion pass,
marshal, in order to get at a broader point. I have witnesses who
are willing to testify that you have been heard to say, in public
–in this very saloon, in fact –that buffalo skinners are more
worthless than tits on a boar hog. Is that true, marshal?”

“Yes, Jules, they are.”

“Do you know my client’s
profession, marshal?”

Gardner nodded. “He’s a buffalo
skinner, Jules. And Layton over there works at Casto’s tannery
–witnesses at the Wolf’s Den say the argument started over Dace
claiming Layton cheated him on the price of his hides.” He
chuckled. “Skinner was trying to skin the skinner.”

“Since you did not witness that
exchange personally, marshal, it is hearsay. And so is your entire
testimony. You did not actually see anything. You did not see my
client stab the victim; you did not see my client bite the victim’s
ear off. Is that true, or not?”

“It’s true.”

“Then why would you simply assume
my client was guilty, unless it was because of your expressed
dislike for men of his profession?”

The marshal shrugged again. “Well,
Jules, I assumed he stabbed Layton because the knife sticking out
of the victim has the word ‘Dace’ carved into the handle. I assumed
he bit Layton’s ear off, because when I whacked him on the head I
saw him spit it out.”

The audience erupted into
laughter.

Dace Fennels lost faith in his
defense attorney with that slip, and expressed his dismay by
leaping out of his chair and running for the door. Seamus
O’Connor’s long arm snaked out and grabbed the man by the scruff of
his neck. Dace’s manacled hands wrapped around the chair he has
just vacated, lifting it high above his head and smashing it into
splinters over the deputy. Seamus blinked, then lifted the man
until his feet dangled above the floorboards. The Irishman’s fist
crashed into Dace like an express train, and then he dropped the
prisoner, senseless, to the floor.

There was a moment of silence.

“Defense would like to request a
recess,” Traynor said. “Until such time as I can confer with my
client.”

McDonnell looked at his pocket
watch. “I don’t expect your client will be awake and sensate before
supper,” he said. “This court is adjourned until tomorrow
morning.”

A large number of those assembled
gathered at once around the bar once the judge stepped away,
waiting for Rob the bartender to assume his post. The marshal was
tempted to join them, but decided that his best course would be to
return to his office and its constabulary duties, which might well
include an afternoon siesta to better prepare for his late-night
rounds.

Sam stood, a little stiffly, and
made his way to the door. His leg, wounded in the Danby raid in
July, rarely bothered him now, but he continued using the walking
stick he’d had custom made after the injury. He considered it a
dapper accessory, and it had proven handy for dispatching
troublemakers like Dace.

When he stepped out onto the
boardwalk, he found his path blocked. A tall, hatchet faced man in
his late thirties, in a black broadcloth suit and a gray,
flat-crowned Stetson, stood before him. Sam recognized the man
after a moment –the marshal had not met him before, but had seen
him around town recently.

“Good afternoon, Marshal. My name
is Andrew Rogers –I bought the old Peterman spread northeast of
town.” Sam shook Rogers’ proffered hand.

“Mister Rogers,” Sam said. “Welcome
to Taylor County.”

“Thank you, marshal.” Rogers
grinned. “You handled that shylock like a charm in there, it was a
pleasure to watch.”

“Oh, Jules and I like to trip one
another up, but it’s all in fun. Unless you’re the defendant,
trying not to get your neck stretched, I suppose.”

“Nonetheless, I was pleased to see
that you’re a man that’s quick on his feet, figuratively and
literally. That’s a good quality for a lawman out on the frontier
like we are.”

Sam touched the brim of his hat in
salute. “Much obliged, Mister Rogers. Don’t let me keep you from
the bar –Dab’s not likely to run out of hooch anytime soon, but
there’s some fellas in there that are doing their level best to
drain the well.”

“Actually, marshal, I was hoping to
have a few words with you, in private.”

“I was just on my way back to the
office. It’s not far, if you’d like to come along.”

They walked the two blocks to the
marshal’s office. In an effort to make small talk along the way,
Sam asked a couple of vague questions about Rogers’ ranch, the
Rolling-R, then mostly ignored the answers. Cows bored him.

“Here we are, then,” Sam said as he
settled in behind his desk, and gestured at an empty chair for his
guest. “What’s on your mind, Mister Rogers?”

“My men caught several of Tobias
Breedlove’s hands trying to rustle our cows –they had one of John
Hartman’s kids with them.”

Sam nodded. “Oh, yes, I heard about
that dust-up. Although I gather there are different ways of telling
it.”

“I’m telling it like I see it.”

“I doubt many folks around here
have your perspective,” Sam said. “We already had one bunch of
jaspers shooting at our kids and their teachers, it’s a little soon
to be abiding more of the same. And I know two of those so-called
rustlers pretty well. Billy Below and Jimmy Spotted Owl are
straight arrows. Billy’s a pain in the ass sometimes, but it’s a
dull pain.”

Rogers’ eyes narrowed –the
marshal’s statements clearly annoyed him. Sam didn’t give a
damn.

“Besides,” Sam continued, “none of
that happened in town. So it’s all out of my hands –Sheriff
Satterlee is who you need to be talking to. I’d be surprised if he
hasn’t already been talking to you.”

“Oh, I’ve spoken to the sheriff,
all right,” Rogers said. “But you misunderstand me. I’m not here to
ask for your assistance on that matter –believe me, I have it well
in hand. No, my interests where you’re concerned rest squarely on
this town.”

Rogers stared at the marshal
several seconds. Sam resented being forced to rise to the rancher’s
bait –the man clearly wanted him to be suitably impressed with his
dramatic oratory. Jules Traynor was much better at that sort of
thing. Nonetheless, Sam broke the silence.

“Go on, Mister Rogers. I’m
listening.”

Rogers smiled. “That’s what I meant
earlier, marshal. I can see you’re a smart man. You can tell which
way the wind is blowing.”

“Including when it’s blowing up my
ass.”

“No doubt, marshal, no doubt. So
it’s established, then, we can talk straight here.”

Sam waved his arm, a gesture to
talk on. Rogers obliged.

“I like to think I can tell which
way the wind is blowing, too,” he said. “You probably wouldn’t know
it from looking at me, but I’m new to the cattle business.”

“Do tell.”

“Oh, yes. Most of my life I’ve been
a gambler. Not one of those saps who could blow through a fortune
quicker than he made it, with no self control –a professional.
Sometimes I bet small, planning to lose, to get my opponents to
lower their guard, but I go all in on a sure thing. Once I have
them hooked, that is.”

Rogers leaned forward,
conspiratorially. “This,” he said. “This is a sure thing. This
town, this county, this state –and the cattle business. You know
why? The railroad, that’s why.”

“You’re hardly the first person to
realize that,” Sam said.

“Maybe,” Rogers agreed. “But I
realize more than that. I realize my skills. Every small pot I win,
I can use as a stake in a bigger game. That’s how I bought the
Rolling-R, and everything that goes with it, with my winnings from
the Memphis riverboats.”

“That’s all very inspirational,
Mister Rogers, but I’m waiting on the part that involves me.”

Rogers grinned again. “I’m sure you
are. The fact is, the Rolling-R is just the beginning. I’m going to
become the biggest cattleman in this county, and then the biggest
cattleman in the state. Because it’s cattlemen who are going to run
Kansas from here on out, make no mistake. And it’s a short step
from there to the legislature, or the governor’s house. And from
there, who knows?”

“I see,” Sam replied. “You’re a
visionary.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, visionaries bore me, almost
as much as cows do. I’m a practical man, Mister Rogers.”

“Then I’ll cut to the chase. Before
I do any of those things, I have to consolidate my power right here
in Taylor County. I need to buy out the competition, and those I
can’t buy I need to run out. I’ve been buying up the small places
already, here and there, but Breedlove and Hartman are thorns in my
side –them, and even more so that old walrus Sparkman. But he’s too
big for me to tackle head on just yet. They’re not.”

“I figured as much.”

“I’ve been asking around, marshal,”
Rogers said. “I’ve been asking, and listening, and watching. And
I’ve figured some things out myself, about you.”

“Such as?”

“Such as, you’re either in Dab
Henry’s pocket, or you’re in Ira Breedlove’s pocket. Or you’re in
both.”

It was Sam’s eyes that narrowed in
anger this time. “I don’t take well to talk like that, mister.
You’d better tread soft.”

“The truth hurts,” Rogers said.
“From what I’ve seen, you play them, and the other so-called
merchants in this town, against one another and get your cut from
all of them. That’s your business, and it’s what lawmen do, so it’s
of no concern for me. My concern is what I can get from you
–because before too long, my money’s going to be worth more than
any of theirs. If it’s not already.”

“You’re making me mad, but at least
you’re getting to the point. Go on.”

“This is where your jurisdiction
comes in. Dab Henry may be the mayor, but when you go below South
Street, in the part of town they call Dogleg City around here, it’s
Ira Breedlove that has most of the power. And he likes to throw it
around.”

“I guess you could put it that
way,” Sam said.

“Well,” Rogers continued, “his old
man Tobias is in my way. I’ve tried to buy him out and he won’t
hear of it, even though that ranch of his is falling down around
his ears. So I’m going to have to remove him, and when I do that I
remove people hard. All that is outside the city limits, but it’ll
mean Ira Breedlove will be my enemy right here in Wolf Creek. He’d
make a powerful enemy, and I can’t afford any of those nipping at
my heels.”

Sam had not been enjoying the
conversation from the beginning, but he was beginning to dislike it
more. He knew where it was leading.

“And that’s where I come in, I
suppose,” Sam said.

“Of course,” Rogers said. “I’m not
suggesting anything drastic, mind you. But if you were to suddenly
take an interest in Breedlove’s illicit activities, crack down on
him a little –maybe even show him the inside of the jail for a day
or two –he’d be too preoccupied to interfere with my plans for his
old man and the T-Bar-B.”

“I seriously doubt Ira would react
well to that kind of behavior from me,” Sam said. “Or from you, for
that matter.”

“At that point,” Rogers said, “I
suppose we’d have to do something drastic, after all.”

Sam shook his head in
wonderment.

“You sure as hell don’t ask for
much, do you?” the marshal said.

“You have to broaden your
perspective, Marshal Gardner. Look to the future, make an
investment. I’m not coming to you with pipe dreams –I’ve been
laying a foundation. I told you I’ve bought up a few places in
Taylor County –well, I’ve bought out even more small outfits
next-door in Ford County. The Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe is
laying track west –and I’m going to be re-selling those properties
to them at a huge profit. There’s already talk of building a new
town out by Fort Dodge –I’m well off now, this time next year I
will be an extremely rich man. I’m offering you a chance to hitch
onto my wagon, instead of taking a cut off a bunch of penny-ante
saloons and bawdy-houses.”

“You paint a bright picture of the
future, indeed,” Sam said. “But none of that is going to help you
much if you wind up with Ira Breedlove’s Arkansas toothpick in your
gullet in the here and now.”

“You let me worry about that. I
have some pretty tough hands on my place, and I have a lot more
coming. You need to be thinking about yourself. That damned buffalo
hunter they call a sheriff isn’t going to cooperate with me in the
least, he’s made that clear –imagine how much more authority you’d
have, and how much more profit, if you wound up with his job.”

Sam chuckled. “I assume old G. W.
told you to stick your rosy dreams where the sun don’t shine.”

“We didn’t get very far into the
conversation at all, he’s nowhere as reasonable –and as practical
–as you.”

“And what if –and I’m just sort of
thinking out loud, here –what if I was to tell you to stick them in
the same place?”

“That would be very unfortunate for
you, I’m afraid.”

“Do you think I’d be scared of your
gun thugs, Rogers?”

“Probably not, though you should
be. But I have more in my arsenal than that. Fact is, I could spill
everything I know about your part in the illegal goings-on in
Dogleg City, all the way up to the statehouse.”

“That wouldn’t cause me more than a
little mild discomfort.”

“I’m not finished,” Rogers said.
“In addition to that, I have several private detectives in my
employ. They’ve been backtracking you all the way to before the war
–are you willing to gamble they won’t find anything in your past
that will make that discomfort a little stiffer? Or that they
already haven’t?”

“You do cover all the angles, don’t
you,” Sam said. “I’m almost impressed.”

“If I’m going to make an
investment, I have to cover the angles. I’m not just a gambler
anymore, I’m a businessman. I’m buying shares in the Santa Fe
railroad, and I’m buying shares in you. Because they’re both for
sale.”