Vigilante Dawn

by Ralph Compton

Jarrett answered that by leaving the table and walking straight over to the row of doors on the other side of the room. He didn’t make it halfway before one of the armed men stepped up to block his path.

  “Mr. Gein wants you to wait,” the armed man said.

  “I’m sick of waiting,” Jarrett replied.

  “Then go somewhere else.”

  “Only place I’m going is into that room right there.”

  The man had been keeping one hand resting on the grip of his holstered pistol, presumably as an implied threat. Since that threat wasn’t helping him very much at the moment, he made good on it by drawing the pistol. “I’ve got my orders,” he warned. “And so do you. Now make yourself scarce until someone comes to get you.”

  Jarrett wasn’t quick on the draw, but he managed to pull the Colt from its holster without losing his grip or snagging the barrel along the way. Considering how much he’d drunk in such a short amount of time, he considered that to be fairly impressive. Even more impressive was just how quickly he sobered up once he found himself a hairbreadth away from getting shot.

  “Now what?” Jarrett said in the toughest voice he could manage.

  Fortunately the man in front of him was even more surprised by Jarrett’s actions than Jarrett himself. After taking a moment to weigh his options, the man nodded and slowly lowered his gun. Jarrett kept his Colt at hip level as he moved toward the door separating him from Gein.

  Tensing, the man who’d just holstered his weapon started to bring it out again. “I still can’t let you do that,” he said. At least this time, it sounded less like a demand and more of a request. He wasn’t alone when he spoke. The men Jarrett had spotted earlier at the bar were now moving closer to back his play.

  “Stand aside,” Ackerman said. Jarrett hadn’t even noticed the deputy approaching the growing collection of armed men, but he was mighty relieved to hear the younger man’s voice in such close proximity.

  Even though Gein’s men had a slight advantage in numbers, something kept them from pressing forward.

  “No need to make a scene here, gentlemen,” Jarrett said. “I was supposed to speak with Mr. Gein again and that’s all I intend to do. Something tells me he won’t appreciate a fight breaking out and driving all these customers away no matter what might have been the cause of it.”

  The man closest to Jarrett looked slowly about. So far, their little skirmish of words hadn’t attracted more than a dozen curious stares from customers who were undoubtedly used to seeing much worse in the wee hours of any given night. Rather than lose any more face in front of his partners, the man who’d first drawn down on Jarrett circled around him with hands held slightly out to the sides. Jarrett let him pass but kept him in his sights.

  “Mr. Gein,” the man said while knocking on the door. “That rancher’s here to have a word with you.”

  “Give me a second,” Gein said from the next room.

  Jarrett could sense that his standoff wouldn’t remain peaceful for much longer, so he stepped forward and tried the door himself. It was locked. His fingers were still wrapped around the handle when the door was pulled open by Gein himself.

  “What is it?” Gein snarled. When he saw who was in front of him, he recoiled a bit in surprise. Jarrett caught sight of another door on the opposite side of that room, along with a fleeting glimpse of a man hurrying through it. Although he couldn’t see much of that man, Jarrett was able to make out straight black hair covering the back of his head and a set of sharpened spurs attached to the heels of his boots. Before he could try to get a closer look, Jarrett’s view was obstructed by a large and angry part owner of MacGrearey’s.

  “You’re trying my patience, Mr. Pekoe,” Gein snarled, “and it was still thin from the last time we spoke.”

  “Who was that?” Jarrett asked.

  “What business is it of yours?”

  “Was he one of the men trying to sell you my cattle? Or maybe he was one of the men trying to change the brand on the ones that are already here.”

  Gein took hold of Jarrett by the front of his shirt and pulled him into the small room with so much force that he nearly tossed him through a wall. “I don’t appreciate you or anyone coming into my place to give me orders.”

  “Tell me who that man was and don’t try to tell me it was something involving another order of business. I doubt you conduct much important business at this hour.”

  “You gonna use that pistol or just hold it and expect me to quiver in fear?”

  Jarrett looked down as if to remind himself that the Colt was still in his hand. A quick glance over his shoulder was enough to tell him that Ackerman was still nearby and keeping an eye on the other gunmen. Holstering his weapon, Jarrett said, “We can talk like men without armed guards.”

  “Agreed,” Gein said with a polite nod. The look he gave to the men who’d allowed Jarrett to enter the room wasn’t nearly as polite when he closed the door in the closest one’s face.

  Chapter 24

  Once they were alone in the room, Gein turned to Jarrett and said, “Now, what’s gotten into you?”

  “I don’t like being ignored.”

  “I wasn’t ignoring you. I was just collecting as many facts as I could before deciding on a course of action. It’s called looking before you leap. You might want to try it sometime.”

  “Not tonight,” Jarrett said sharply. “What facts did you collect?”

  “Some cattle from your herd are here,” Gein said. “And before you make another accusation, I hadn’t been told about it yet. Only a few were brought in to see if I was interested. I would have had a look at them in the morning.”

  “What else were you talking about?”

  “I asked how they were acquired. It’s usually not a concern of mine, but I’ve found it to be quite beneficial for the bigger picture if I’m no longer so closely associated with killings. He didn’t say much, but I got enough to be comfortable that the story you gave me is mostly the truth.”

  Suppressing the urge to squabble over being accused of telling “mostly” truths, Jarrett said, “The deal was for you to hand them over to me.”

  “I realize that. He’s only one man and you damn near lost him by charging in the way you did. You’re lucky he didn’t catch a look at you or things could have taken a turn.”

  “Why didn’t you keep him here? I would have dealt with him.”

  Gein approached Jarrett so he could place a heavy hand on his shoulder. Leaning in close to stare directly into his eyes, the large man explained, “There are more of them here in Muriel. He was already suspicious enough and if he was given one more thing to worry about, he would have warned the others. They would have cleared out of town faster than you could collect those other two friends of yours.”

  Now that the whiskey haze had been burned from his head and his breath had slowed to a normal pace, Jarrett was thinking a lot clearer than before. Gein’s words made sense, which went a long way in making him feel even more grounded. “You said those rustlers are nervous. Why?”

  “On account of that deputy you brought along,” Gein replied.

  “Someone recognized him?”

  “No, but he reaches for that badge pinned to his chest more often than a gunfighter itching to skin his revolver. Plenty of men caught a glimpse of tin under his jacket, and one of those rustlers must’ve done the same.”

  “Damn it.” Jarrett sighed.

  “It’s not a complete loss. It may have hurried the process along since that man I spoke to was all too happy to have our talk at this hour instead of waiting for me to have a look at those cattle.”

  Jarrett ran through several options in his mind. While most weren’t as bad as they could have been, none of them inspired much confidence. “You think that man will be willing to come back here?”

  “Only if he wants money for them cows. Since rust
lers don’t care about much else, I’d say the odds of him coming back to see me are pretty good.”

  “Are you going to hand the men over or not?”

  Gein took his hand from Jarrett’s shoulder, only to put it back again with a solid yet friendly slap. “I give you my word and it’s good as gold. Besides, that man who just left here tried to lie to me about a few things to swing a better deal for himself. That, piled on top of everything else they’ve done, will make it a pleasure to see them get what they deserve. I deal with thieving scum out of necessity, Mr. Pekoe. Thieving, lying scum who’d kill an innocent family is something else. Even a man in my line of work needs to be able to look at himself in a mirror.”

  Jarrett didn’t know whether he should fully trust Gein or not. His instincts pointed him very clearly toward taking him at his word, which confused him even more.

  “The man that left here was Sol Carter,” Gein said. “That name mean anything to you?”

  Jarrett didn’t need much time before he said, “Never heard of him. Of course, those men didn’t exactly take time to make proper introductions before burning my ranch to the ground.”

  “Of course they didn’t. I’d say that, between the two of us, we’ve done enough for one day. Why don’t we both get some rest and reconvene here at noon tomorrow?”

  “Noon? I thought you said you were meeting with them in the morning.”

  “I am,” Gein replied. “But these men are suspicious by nature. I’ll need time to let them get comfortable before trying to detain them.” Gein scowled as he dropped his voice to something closer to a snarl. “This isn’t the sort of thing I do very often, so it’s got to be done right. If word gets out that I treated one of my customers this way, things will get difficult for me. Considering the men who are my customers, you don’t want to know how difficult that is.”

  “Right.”

  “Now you and your friends will stay somewhere other than here for the night,” Gein said while pushing Jarrett toward the door through which he’d entered. “I’d recommend the Wheatley Inn. It’s just down the street from here next to a pair of dry wells. You can’t miss it. Keep your heads down and for the love of God, keep that deputy on a short rope before he finds himself at the end of a long one.”

  Shaking loose of the big man’s grasp, Jarrett asked, “What should I expect when I get back here? More posturing from your men?”

  “You stepped too far tonight and I let you get away with it. Don’t put me to the test again.”

  Taking full advantage of the advice he’d been given, Jarrett thought better of the threat he was about to make and nodded in agreement instead. Gein opened the door and all but shoved him through it.

  Outside, things were much closer to normal that Jarrett had been expecting. Although Ackerman and Gein’s men were all still within close proximity of the door, they sat at their own respective tables and none of them looked as though they’d been scrapping with the other. Ackerman stood up a bit too quickly, which prompted the others to stand as well.

  “Everything all right?” the deputy asked.

  “Yeah,” Jarrett said. “Or it will be once we get out of here.”

  “We’re leaving?”

  “Just this saloon.” Looking over to a table where two of Gein’s men sat, Jarrett added, “And we’re coming back tomorrow.”

  The man in Jarrett’s sights seemed less than thrilled about that, but he wasn’t going to do anything at the moment. Gein’s men all kept their eyes on Jarrett and Ackerman as they headed for the front door and allowed them to leave without further incident. None of the customers were inclined to do much either. They were too busy drinking or laughing with the working girls to be anything to Jarrett other than elements of a backdrop.

  “What happened in there?” Ackerman asked once they were outside. His face was thin enough already, but his worried expression and pale color made him look even slighter than normal.

  “Those men were just trying to do what Gein pays them for,” Jarrett said in what was supposed to be an assuring manner.

  “That’s not what I meant. What happened with you? I mean . . . one moment I was sitting there eating my eggs and you were at the bar drinking your whiskey. The next second, you were worked up into a lather and picking a fight with armed men.”

  “I guess it could have seemed that way.”

  “That’s how it was! What were you thinking?”

  Giving Ackerman a shove to get him moving faster, Jarrett walked beside him down the street. “I should ask you the same thing,” he said. “Everyone in there knows you’re a lawman. Everyone that matters anyway. And before you try to defend yourself, think about how many times you started to show a damn tin star in a town that’s home to one of the most prosperous outlaws in three counties.”

  Ackerman winced, started reaching for his badge as if to make sure it was still hidden, and then winced again. “Point taken.”

  “It’s all right.” Jarrett sighed. “We both made a few bad decisions, but someone’s looking out for us because we’re making progress despite ourselves. Where’d you say Lem got off to?”

  “Playing cards down the way,” Ackerman replied while nodding toward the only other spot in town that didn’t look like a dead lump of shadows.

  “I’ll go get him and you find us someplace to sleep. I heard there’s a hotel down by a couple of dry—”

  “Found you,” Lem said as he crossed the street.

  Ackerman finally relaxed now that the other two were present and accounted for. “We were just going to try to find you,” he said. “Let’s get some sleep and put this night behind us.”

  “Not yet,” Lem said. “There’s still a thing or two that needs to be done.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jarrett asked. “And why are you smiling like that?”

  Lem’s only response was to turn his back on them, walk to the other side of the street, and motion for the other two to follow him. Jarrett did so reluctantly and Ackerman came along only because he wasn’t about to let them out of his sight. Lem took them down the street, around a corner, and to a small storefront that was dark and closed up tight. He circled around to a side door and eased it open.

  “What is this place?” Jarrett asked.

  “Don’t know,” Lem replied. “Some sort of store, I think. Doesn’t matter.”

  “Doesn’t matter?” Ackerman whispered. “How could it not matter? Where’s the owner of this place?”

  Lem shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you.”

  “Couldn’t or won’t?”

  “What the hell difference does it make? If you don’t like it so much, you can wait outside. Just try not to make a spectacle of yourself.”

  The door led into a small, narrow room. Inside that room, light from a single lantern cast just enough of a glow to show them the way farther into the building without running into anything along the way.

  “I’m just doing my job,” Ackerman said while nearly avoiding walking into the doorframe. “And since I am the ranking member of this group, it’s high time for me to lay down a few rules. Before we go any farther—”

  Jarrett was already in the next room and stopped dead in his tracks. “Stop,” he said. “Just . . . stop talking. I need to think.”

  Being the first one to get through the door, Lem walked ahead a couple of steps to circle around a chair positioned near a table where the single lantern was resting. Tied to that chair was a slender man with straight black hair. A bandanna was tied around his mouth to muffle his screams, and blood was caked on his chin. One of his eyes was swollen shut. The other was filled with a mix of panic, desperation, and rage.

  Ackerman might not have appreciated being told to shut up, but he wouldn’t have been able to say a word at that moment anyway.

  Chapter 25

  “What . . . what is this?” Jarrett stammered.
“Who is that?”

  Lem circled the chair like a bird of prey that had already spotted its next meal on a canyon floor. “Don’t you know who this is?”

  He did know, but Jarrett couldn’t be certain. Not until he got a closer look. As he approached, the man tied to the chair thrashed as much as he could. Considering how well he’d been bound by those ropes, it wasn’t much.

  Finally Ackerman found his voice again. “You’re holding this man prisoner? You can’t do that!”

  “Looks like I already did,” Lem replied while gesturing toward the chair.

  “Is he . . . under arrest?”

  Stepping back while crossing his arms, Lem said, “You’re the lawman, not me. If it makes you feel any better . . . go ahead and arrest him.”

  Ackerman studied the prisoner from head to toe. “Why is he here?” the deputy asked.

  Lem kept his eyes on Jarrett as he said, “I couldn’t exactly have him running around loose. Besides, he’s the reason we’re in this cow town. Well, one of the reasons anyway.”

  Hunching over to get a closer look at the prisoner’s boots, Jarrett reached out with one hand to scrape a finger against the sharpened spurs attached to one heel. “This really is him.”

  Lem nodded. “I was walking to that other saloon when one of Gein’s boys pointed him out to me. Said I should keep an eye on him if I was looking for those rustlers. I followed him for a short spell and he eventually came back to MacGrearey’s. Didn’t have to wait long before he hurried out a back door. He was in such a rush he didn’t know I was there until it was too late.”

  Jarrett straightened up and looked down at the prisoner in disbelief. Since Ackerman looked as if he was about to burst, Jarrett told him, “This is one of the rustlers we’re after.”

  “Are you serious?” the deputy gasped.

  “Yeah. He was having a word with Gein and left as soon as I got there. His name’s Sol . . . Carter. Isn’t that right?”

  Upon hearing that name, the prisoner stopped struggling. Jarrett stepped around to stand directly in front of him. Bending slightly at the knees, Jarrett put himself mostly at the seated prisoner’s eye level.