Torture of the Mountain Man

by William W. Johnstone

  “But we can have a few drinks, can’t we?” Higgins asked. “I mean, the best place to find out anything is in a saloon.”

  “All right, you can have a few drinks. But don’t forget what you’re there for,” Lanagan said.

  “Come on, Jay,” Higgins said. “Let’s go into town ’n have us a little look around.”

  * * *

  Hatchett MacMurtry had listened in on the conversation between Slater and Lanagan, but he had not participated in it. He had heard Garland and Higgins offer to go into town, and watched them leave, but again, said nothing. Not until the two men were gone, and the remaining men of Lanagan’s gang had found some way to pass the time, did MacMurtry leave.

  MacMurtry had one thing in mind, and that was to kill Smoke Jensen. The one-thousand-dollar reward offered by Lanagan was a good thing, but he was determined to kill Jensen whether there was a reward for him or not. He left the encampment without saying anything to any of the others, because he didn’t want anyone volunteering their help. He wanted the personal satisfaction of killing Smoke Jensen all by himself.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Jay Garland and Bo Higgins sat in the Watering Hole, nursing their beers. This was the third saloon they had been in, and so far they had learned nothing about anyone having been shot the night before.

  “If you ask me, it didn’t never even happen,” Garland said. “On account if it had, seems to me like folks would be talkin’ ’bout it all over town.”

  “You sayin’ you think Slater lied about it? That he didn’t shoot nobody?”

  “He might ’a took a shot, but it was dark, ’n he said his ownself that he run soon as he shot. I’m thinkin’ maybe if he did shoot, why he just plain missed.”

  “Yeah, I’m beginnin’ to think . . .”

  “Do any of you know that feller that was kilt last night?” someone asked of nobody in particular.

  “Are you talkin’ ’bout one o’ them new men that’s come in to deputy with Conyers?”

  “Is that who it was? I just heard that someone was shot ’n kilt last night, but I didn’t know who it was.”

  “Yeah, it was one o’ them that’s come to help the deputy, but I don’t know his name.”

  “He ain’t dead,” one of the others said.

  “What are you talkin’ about, Travis? What do you mean he ain’t dead? I was in the Blanket and Saddle last night when Tobin stuck his head in ’n said he was kilt.”

  “Tobin was wrong. He warn’t kilt, he’s down the doc’s office now. The doc’s got him lyin’ in the back along with the sheriff,” Travis said.

  “How do you know he wasn’t kilt?”

  “I’ll tell you how I know, Morris. I know, ’cause I was down there at the doc’s office last night when they brought him in. He warn’t actually even shot all that bad. They was able to take out the bullet ’n sew ’im up so that he’s comin’ along real good.”

  “Did you hear that?” Higgins asked, with a qualifying nod toward the men who were carrying on the conversation.

  “Yeah,” Garland said. “I heard it. So, it turns out Slater did shoot ’im after all, he just didn’t do a very good job of it.”

  “Quiet, let’s listen in, ’n see what we can find out.” Both Garland and Higgins stared into their beers as they listened to the ongoing discussion.

  “Is it true that the feller that was shot was one o’ the ones that was on the stagecoach when it was held up?” Morris asked.

  “Ha! You mean when they tried to hold it up, don’t you? The outlaws didn’t get the job done ’cause they was all shot down,” the bartender said, joining into the conversation between Travis and Morris.

  “They wasn’t all shot down,” Morris said. “Leastwise, that’s what Sam Parsons told me. And he ought to know, seein’ as he was drivin’ the coach. What he said was that one of ’em turned tail ’n run, soon as the shootin’ started.”

  Garland and Higgins exchanged glances over that bit of information.

  “Maybe so, but the rest of ’em was shot down,” the bartender said, continuing his narrative. “Two of ’em is still standin’ up down there in front of Ponder’s undertakin’ business, ’n the other four is stretched out inside.”

  “Damn, they must be gettin’ pretty ripe, by now.”

  “Yeah, well, Ponder plans on buryin’ ’em tomorrow, whether or not anyone claims to know them two that’s standin’ out front or not.”

  “They didn’t nobody answer my question,” Morris said. “Was the feller that was shot one of them men that was on the stage?”

  “Yeah, the one that got shot was Cal, ’n he was one of the men that stopped the stagecoach from bein’ robbed.”

  “We’ve found out what we need to know,” Higgins said, speaking quietly to Garland. “What do you say we have us a drink or two, then go on back out to the camp?”

  “All right. But there’s one more saloon to check out first,” Garland said.

  “Why? Accordin’ to what we just found out, the feller that Slater shot is still alive in this saloon, you think maybe he’ll be dead in the other one?” Higgins asked.

  “I ain’t concerned about that. It’s just that, as long as we’re in town, seems to me like we ought to enjoy ourselves a bit, ’n visit all four of the saloons.”

  “Yeah,” Higgins said. “Yeah, come to think of it, that’s a pretty good idea after all.”

  * * *

  The Weatherford stagecoach was moving quickly and smoothly down the Weatherford and Audubon Road. Julia Conyers and Tamara Greene were the only two passengers in the coach, and Tamara was talking in a slow, halting voice, often interrupted by quiet sobs. Julia had asked no questions to solicit such a response, but Tamara had opened up to her. Until now, Tamara had not spoken of the horrors she had witnessed when her father was killed, nor had she spoken of the indignities she had suffered.

  Even as Tamara related the story it was if she were reliving it, because as she spoke, her facial expressions displayed the pain and her eyes filled with tears that flowed down her cheeks. At first Julia thought that perhaps she should stop Tamara because the memories were so painful to her, but then she realized that Tamara needed to talk about it, that this was necessary for her to get the terrible trauma out of her system.

  “I don’t know how long it was after Mr. MacMurtry left, before Mr. Smoke arrived. Some of Papa’s cows had wandered over to Sugarloaf, and he was bringing them back. I’m sure glad that he did. I . . . I really don’t have any idea what I would have done if he had not come when he did.”

  Julia took a silk handkerchief from her purse and handed it to the young girl.

  “I am glad he came as well,” Julia said. She smiled at Tamara. “And would you like to know what I am even happier about?”

  “What’s that?” Tamara asked as she wiped her eyes.

  “I’m glad that he brought you down here to live with us. With both Dalton and Rebecca gone, it was beginning to get very lonely for Ben and me. Why, you came along at just the right time.”

  “I am so thankful to you for taking me in, as you did,” Tamara said. “Of course, I’m thankful to Mr. Smoke and Miz Sally as well but . . .” Tamara paused in mid-sentence.

  “But what, child?”

  “They always seem to be so busy. And they travel a lot. Oh, not while I was with them, but I remember Papa talking about how much they traveled. I used to think what a wonderful and glamorous thing that must be, to travel all the time. But, as I have grown older, I can see the benefits of staying in one place.” Tamara smiled through the tears then returned the handkerchief and reached out to hold Julia’s hand as she did so. “And of course, I could not think of a more wonderful place to be than Live Oaks. It was so much a part of my youth.”

  “Your youth?” Julia laughed. “Heavens, child, you are still in your youth. You should enjoy it while you can.”

  A shadow passed across Tamara’s eyes.

  “No, ma’am, I have no youth, except in my memories. My
youth was taken from me.”

  Julia felt a terrible jolt of pain as she realized that Tamara was right, her youth had been taken from her.

  “AUDUBON!” The driver’s shout came down into the coach, interrupting the moment. It was a welcome interruption as far as Julia was concerned.

  When the coach pulled to a stop in front of the Audubon Stage Coach Depot, Tamara saw Sally and Becca waiting for them, having been informed by a telegram Julia sent from Weatherford. One of the employees of the depot opened the door and helped them down. Tamara was warmly embraced by Sally, while Julia went into Becca’s open arms.

  “Well, look at you!” Becca said when she saw Tamara. “What a beautiful young lady my new sister turned out to be! This can’t be the little girl who once chased me trying to put a frog down my dress, can it?”

  “Oh! Did I ever do something like that?” Tamara asked, with an embarrassed gasp.

  Becca laughed. “I’m afraid you did. But, what little girl hasn’t done things in her past that would embarrass her now?”

  “I can name several things you did,” Julia charged.

  “No, Mama, don’t, spare me the embarrassment, please,” Becca replied, joining the others in the laughter.

  “Come, we have a room for the two of you at the Del Rey Hotel,” Sally said. “I hope you don’t mind sharing a room, it’s the last one left.”

  “We don’t mind at all,” Julia said, answering for both of them.

  “Mr. Bond, would you see to the luggage of my mother and sister, and have it sent over to the hotel?” Becca asked the employee of the hotel depot.

  “I’d be glad to, ma’am,” Mr. Bond replied.

  Sister, Tamara thought. That was twice now that Becca had referred to her as her sister. It was a little thing, but it gave her the best feeling, and the greatest sense of inclusion of anything that had happened since that awful morning when her parents were murdered.

  “Where is Mr. Smoke?” Tamara asked.

  “He is doing something for Dalton,” Sally answered. “I don’t know if you have been told, but he’s working as a deputy sheriff here for a little while. I do expect him to show up for dinner tonight.”

  “And will Pearlie and Cal be there as well?”

  Sally and Becca looked at each other, and Tamara was troubled by the expression she saw on their faces as they exchanged glances.

  “Pearlie will be there,” Sally said. “But, you haven’t heard about Cal. You couldn’t have, there was no time to get word to you after it happened.”

  “After what happened?” Tamara asked, anxiously.

  “Now, don’t get too alarmed,” Sally said. “Cal was shot but . . .”

  “Oh, no! Cal was shot?”

  “Yes, but he was not badly wounded, and he is recovering nicely. He just needs a few days of recuperation is all, so, no, he won’t be coming to supper tonight.”

  “Where is he?” Tamara asked. “Can I see him?”

  “Of course you can. He’s down at the doctor’s office and I know he would be very glad to see you,” Sally said.

  “I want to go see him.”

  “We’ll go together,” Sally said. “But, why don’t we get you and Mrs. Conyers checked in first?”

  * * *

  The Ace High Saloon was across the street from the stage depot, and MacMurtry was just dismounting in front of the saloon when he saw the passengers step down from the stage. At first it meant nothing to him, beyond the mere greetings that occurred with the arrival of any stagecoach, but one of the women passengers caught his attention, and he stood there for a moment, staring at her.

  It was Julia Conyers!

  MacMurtry recognized her because he had once worked on Live Oaks Ranch, and Julia Conyers, who was Colonel Conyers’ wife, was well known to everyone who worked on the ranch. She took an interest in the welfare of all the hands, so she was often seen in one capacity or another. And since she was quite attractive, she was the kind of woman one could remember.

  If Julia Conyers was here, then that meant that Deputy Conyers really was the same Dalton he had known before. But why was Dalton Conyers acting as a deputy sheriff when his father was one of the wealthiest men in the state? Had there been some sort of falling-out between father and son?

  That was possible. As he remembered Dalton, he was sort of a high-strung kind of person, always just on the edge of getting into trouble. Julia Conyers always put up with him better than the Colonel. It would be like her to come visit him, even if his old man had turned him out.

  But who was the young girl with her?

  He would have to find out. He wasn’t sure exactly how he would do it, but he had a feeling that, somehow, he might be able to use one or more of these women to help him get to Smoke Jensen.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  As she had promised, right after Julia and Tamara were checked in to the hotel, Sally took Tamara down to the doctor’s office so she could visit with Cal.

  “Just let me check in back to see if Cal and the Sheriff are ready to receive visitors,” Dr. Palmer said.

  “Don’t tell Cal who is with me,” Sally said. “We want to surprise him.”

  Dr. Palmer nodded, and stepped into the back. A moment later he reappeared.

  “Cal is ready for visitors.”

  Sally went to the door, then, with a smile, indicated that Tamara should wait for a moment.

  “Miss Sally, it’s good of you to come see me,” Cal said by way of greeting.

  “I didn’t come alone.”

  “Pearlie? You brought Pearlie with you?”

  “No, the person I brought is a lot prettier than Pearlie.”

  “Well, Good Lord, Miss Sally, who isn’t prettier than Pearlie?”

  Sally chuckled, then turned to wave toward the door, where Tamara had been waiting just on the other side.

  “Tamara!” Cal said with genuine appreciation for her visit. “What a wonderful surprise!”

  Cal introduced Tamara to Sheriff Peabody, then for the next several minutes they talked.

  “How do you like Live Oaks Ranch?” Cal asked.

  “Oh, it’s wonderful there,” Tamara said. “Mrs. Conyers and the Colonel have been just ever so nice to me.”

  “There’s another reason you like it there, too, I’m told,” Sally said, with a smile.

  “Another reason?” Tamara asked.

  “I’m told that you have a beau.”

  “Oh,” Tamara replied with an embarrassed smile. “You must be talking about Billy Lewis. But he isn’t my beau.”

  “Really? What is he then?”

  “Well, he’s my . . .” Tamara stopped in mid-sentence, then a huge smile spread across her face, “beau,” she concluded.

  “Oh, and here, I thought I was your beau,” Cal teased.

  * * *

  As Sally and Tamara were visiting with Cal, Garland and Higgins were in the Blanket and Saddle Saloon. And it was there that Garland came up with the idea that he and Higgins could finish the job Slater had started.

  “What do you mean?” Higgins asked.

  “Think about it, Higgins. This feller Cal that they’ve been talkin’ about is lyin’ down there in the back of the doctor’s office. We could wait ’til midnight or so, then sneak in there ’n kill ’im just real easy. That would leave only two of ’em left.” He smiled. “And not only that, but we would be gettin’ that five hunnert dollars that Slater is thinkin’ he’s a-goin’ to get.”

  “Yeah,” Higgins said returning the smile. “But it wouldn’t be two left, it would be three, countin’ the deputy.”

  “Hell, the deputy ain’t nothin’ a-tall. He couldn’t do nothin’ by hisself, which is why he had Smoke Jensen ’n them other two come down here to help ’im out in the first place.”

  “Maybe the deputy ain’t much, but this feller Smoke Jensen is. You’ve heard ’em, how they are talkin’ about ’im, ’n all. The way I been hearin’ it told, why, they say that Jensen is the fastest man with a gun there is,
or even was.”

  “Yeah, well, here’s the thing. You put a whole bunch o’ sticks together, ’n you can’t hardly break ’em. But, you take ’em on at a time, ’n you can break ’em just real easy,” Garland said.

  Higgins looked confused. “We’re goin’ to break some sticks?”

  “No, dumb ass, I was just tellin’ you that to make a point. What I’m sayin’ is, we’ll kill ’em one at a time, ’n we’ll be startin’ tonight, with the feller that’s a lyin’ down there in the doctor’s office.”

  A look of understanding replaced the confused expression on Higgins’ face, and he smiled.

  “Yeah!” he said. “Yeah, I see what you’re talkin’ about now. If we do it one at a time, why, we’ll always have ’em outnumbered.”

  A man stepped into the saloon at that moment and stood just inside the batwing doors, surveying the bar area. Dull gray eyes were looking out from a rough, brooding face.

  “There’s MacMurtry,” Garland said. “What’s he doin’ in here?”

  “He said he was goin’ to kill Jensen, remember?” Higgins replied.

  “Yeah. Maybe we can work out somethin’ so’s that we work together.”

  “Huh, uh,” Higgins said, shaking his head. “I don’t mind goin’ after someone who’s lyin’ already shot oncet, down in the doctor’s office. But I don’t want nothin’ to do with Smoke Jensen.”

  “I ain’t talkn’ ’bout us goin’ after Jensen. I’m just sayin’ that maybe whilest MacMurtry is goin’ after Jensen, it’ll keep Jensen ’n the others busy, ’n it’ll make it even easier for us to kill Cal.”

  “Yeah,” Higgins said. “Yeah, I see what you mean.”

  MacMurtry, seeing Garland and Higgins sharing a table, got a beer, then walked over to join them.

  “What have you found out about the man Slater shot?” MacMurtry asked.

  “He warn’t kilt,” Garland said.

  “So we’re goin’ to do it,” Higgins added.

  “Are you saying Slater didn’t even shoot ’im?” MacMurtry asked.

  “No, he shot ’im all right, only now, this feller Cal is down at the doctor’s office lyin’ there shot, but not dead,” Garland said.