Me & My Little Brain

by John D. Fitzgerald

  I could feel Frankie's hands on my knees begin to tremble.

  "You don't ask me what I want," he cried as tears came into his eyes. "You only ask me what they want."

  "But, Frankie . . ." Mamma started to say something, but Uncle Mark interrupted her.

  "Let him talk, Tena," my uncle said. Then he looked at Frankie. "What do you want, son?"

  "I want to stay here!" Frankie cried.

  He broke away from me and ran over to Mamma, who picked him up and held him on her lap. He put his arms around her neck.

  "I won't go!" he cried. "Why can't you be my new mamma and John's papa my new papa and John my new brother?"

  Uncle Mark placed his hand over Aunt Cathie's hand. "I guess that settles it," he said and his voice was hoarse.

  Aunt Cathie's eyes were blurred with tears as she nodded. "I know, dear," she said.

  "I know how much this meant to you and to me," Uncle Mark said, "so we will do the next best thing. Sheriff Baker will be back Monday. We will go to the orphanage in Salt Lake City and adopt a boy."

  Aunt Cathie's face brightened with a smile. "And a little girl," she said.

  Then Uncle Mark smiled. "And a little girl," he said.

  Frankie pulled his head back and stared into Mamma's face. "Does that mean you're going to adopt me?" he asked and seemed to be holding his breath waiting for her answer.

  "Yes, dear," Mamma said as she kissed him on the cheek.

  Uncle Mark turned to Papa. "I'll have Judge Potter draw up the adoption papers in the morning," he said. Then he smiled at Frankie. "Well, Frankie, at least I'll get to be your uncle and Cathie your aunt."

  Frankie pointed to Aunt Bertha. "Aunt Bertha will be my aunt too," he said with a happy smile.

  When I arrived home from school the next afternoon, Aunt Bertha told me that Papa, Mamma, and Frankie had gone to Judge Potter's chambers. I was too excited and curious to go out and play. I waited in the parlor for them. In a few minutes the front doorbell rang. I opened the door and saw Mr. Kramer.

  "I stopped at your father's newspaper office but he wasn't there," he said. "Is he home?"

  "No, sir," I said. "He is with Judge Potter and I don't know exactly when he will be back."

  Alex Kramer took out a purse and removed a twenty-dollar gold piece, which he handed to me. "Please give this to your father for me and thank him for the loan. I am leaving town right away."

  "You got Mr. Ferguson the team of mules," I said.

  "Yes," Mr. Kramer said. "And he paid me a very handsome price for them."

  "I tried your system but it didn't work," I said, because I thought he should know.

  "Perhaps you don't have the knack for it," he said.

  "That is what Papa said."

  "Well, goodbye, John," he said. "And once again, please thank your father for the favor."

  Papa, Mamma, and Frankie returned about fifteen minutes after Alex Kramer had left. They were all very happy.

  "You are now my very own son," Mamma said, picking Frankie up in her arms and hugging him. "I promise that I will love you just as your own mother loved you."

  Papa patted Frankie on the head. "And I promise I will love you just as your own father loved you," he said.

  Papa then left for his newspaper office. Mamma went to change her clothes. I was alone with Frankie. I held out my hand.

  "We are brothers now," I said as we shook hands. "Do you know what that means?"

  He nodded. "You want back your wagon and the other things," he said.

  "No," I said. "A deal is a deal. But you don't get anything else I own just by saying it is yours. The most important thing about being brothers is that when they share a secret, they don't tell anybody, not even their mother and father."

  "You mean about the ghost," he said. "I wasn't really going to tell on you even if you didn't give me all those things. I don't tattletale on people I love."

  I wasn't one for getting mushy but I couldn't help it. I picked him up and hugged him.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Escape of Cal Roberts

  I NEVER REALIZED UNTIL Frankie became my adopted brother how nice it was having a younger brother. I enjoyed teaching him how to play dominoes and checkers and other games. I liked reading to him. It was fun just to read aloud books like Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. I got a nice warm feeling inside making a slingshot, whistles from tree branches, and other things for him. And the way he looked up to me made me feel important. It was terrific knowing he would be waiting at the front gate for me when I came home from school, and would run to meet me as if I was the greatest fellow in the world. I think the bond between us was even greater than if he had been my real brother.

  In the middle of November I got Tom's bike back from Sammy. It was a mess. The tires were worn down to where you could hardly see the treads. Both of them had been punctured several times. Sammy had fixed the punctures himself. We didn't have a bicycle shop in Adenville. There was a special needle that came with the tool case. Elastic bands were stretched on it and then dipped in a special glue. The needle and elastic bands were inserted in the hole in the tire. Then the needle was withdrawn, leaving the elastic bands with glue in the hole. Finally, matches were used to burn off the elastic bands and vulcanize the hole. The sprocket was in even worse condition. It slipped, and the brake was rusty and didn't work right. Mr. Harmon at the Z.C.M.I, stored looked it over and said it would be better to order a new sprocket. I was able to clean up the chain and spokes.

  It was just a week after I got the bike back that Papa came home one evening looking worried. As usual, he postponed the bad news until after supper when we were all sitting in the parlor. Mamma could always tell when something was bothering Papa just as I could.

  "What is the matter, dear?" she asked.

  Papa exhaled some smoke from the cigar he was smoking. "Mark received a telegram this afternoon stating that Cal Roberts and five of his gang escaped from the penitentiary," Papa said solemnly. "They are believed to be heading this way."

  "Oh dear God!" Mamma cried.

  I didn't blame Mamma for being alarmed. Cal Roberts and his gang had terrorized southwestern Utah until they finally had been captured and convicted. They were cattle rustlers who stole cattle from big ranchers and drove them over the Nevada line to sell. Papa had often said the gang had committed enough crimes, including murder, to hang all of them ten times. But the only witnesses they ever left behind were dead witnesses. They wouldn't have been arrested and convicted this time if the night herder they shot had been dead as they believed him to be.

  Mr. James Bowman owned a big ranch about twenty miles from Adenville. All the ranchers employed night herders for several reasons. The night herders protected the steers, especially calves, from wolves and coyotes and mountain lions. They also played a harmonica or sang to the cattle if there was a storm to prevent the herd from stampeding. And they acted as lookouts for rustlers.

  About a year before a night herder named Charlie Felkner had been riding night herd on the Bowman ranch. One of the Cal Roberts gang got close enough to shoot Felkner in the back with a rifle. The night herder fell from his horse. He was wounded and knew he couldn't fight off the gang by himself so he pretended he was dead. In the bright moonlight he recognized Cal Roberts. The rustlers cut out fifty head of prime beef and began driving the cattle toward the Nevada line.

  The rustlers would have got away this time too if Felkner had been dead, because he wasn't due to be relieved by another night herder for four days. That would give the rustlers plenty of time to drive the stolen cattle over the Nevada line and sell them.

  Felkner managed to climb on his horse after the rustlers had left and ride to the ranch house. Mr. Bowman got six of his cowboys and rode into Adenville about eleven o'clock that night. Uncle Mark swore them in as deputies and also deputized several other men.

  The posse caught up with the rustlers the next morning. There was a gun battle during which one of the rustlers was killed a
nd one deputy wounded. Gal Roberts and the other five of his gang surrendered, knowing they didn't have a chance against the posse. They were brought to Adenville for trial. They couldn't be charged with murder because they had only wounded the night herder and deputy. District Attorney Vickers decided to prosecute them for cattle-rustling. They were convicted by a jury and each of them sentenced to twenty years in the penitentiary.

  Cal Roberts stood up in court after the sentence was pronounced. He swore he would break out of the penitentiary and get even with Judge Potter, District Attorney Vickers, and the foreman of the jury. Papa had been the foreman of the jury. That was why Mamma was so worried.

  Aunt Bertha clasped her hands tightly in her lap. "Do you think he will try to keep that horrible threat he made in court?" she asked breathlessly.

  Papa knocked the ashes off his cigar into an ashtray. "It is quite possible," he said. "You can only hang a man once for murder, no matter how many people he kills. Roberts and his gang killed two prison guards in making their escape. However, I do believe Mark will have the situation well in hand if they do come here seeking revenge."

  "Just what precautions is Mark taking?" Mamma asked.

  Papa told us Uncle Mark was putting up wanted posters for the six men all over town. This would enable anybody who hadn't seen the gang at the trial to recognize them. Uncle Mark had also sworn in twenty deputies.

  "Mark seems to think," Papa continued, "that if they are going to strike, they will do it at night. Roberts and his gang will realize that every man in town will be wearing a gun during the daytime."

  "Just how would they strike at night?" Mamma asked.

  "Mark has a theory and it seems like a good one," Papa said. "He believes the gang will sneak into town after midnight when the saloons and other businesses are closed. There are six of them. Mark believes two will go after Judge Potter, two after District Attorney Vickers, and the other two after me to make good Roberts' threat. Mark wanted to put the three of us in a room at the Sheepmen's Hotel where it would be easier to guard us. But we all refused to do it."

  "Why?" Mamma asked. "It sounds like a very sensible thing to do."

  "Because we had ample time to study the character of Cal Roberts during the trial," Papa said. "He is a very vain and vindictive man. His vanity will force him to try to carry out his threat. If he finds we are beyond his reach, he is vindictive enough to seek revenge upon our families. He would not hesitate to kill women and children." Papa paused for a moment. "But even if none of this were true, we are not the type of men who would let scum like Roberts drive us from our homes."

  "Then Mark will protect our homes," Mamma said.

  "He will place armed deputies on the back porch and the front porch of all three homes," Papa said. "There will also be an armed deputy across the street from each home. These deputies will be on duty from darkness to dawn. Mark and five deputies will sleep days and be on duty at the Marshal's office at night. There will also be armed deputies patrolling the streets both day and night. I agree with Mark that Roberts would be stupid to attempt anything during the daytime and that the gang will strike at night."

  Frankie, who had been sitting on the floor with me, got up and walked over to Mamma. "I don't want the bad mans to hurt my new papa," he cried.

  Mamma was so worried she didn't bother to correct his grammar as she picked him up and hugged him. "Don't you worry about it, dear," she said. "Your uncle Mark will take care that the bad men don't hurt anybody."

  Frankie and I went to bed after Papa said the outlaws couldn't possibly reach Adenville that night. Frankie knelt to pray.

  "Please God," he prayed, "don't let the bad mans hurt my mamma and papa and brother and Aunt Bertha. If the bad mans must hurt somebody, let it be me. Amen."

  I held Frankie in my arms that night until he fell asleep. I couldn't help but be moved at his love and goodness.

  The next morning after breakfast I watched Papa strap on his holster with his revolver before leaving for the Advocate office. I thought for sure there wouldn't be any school until the outlaws were captured. But I was as wrong as a fish who decides he can live out of water.

  Adenville was an armed camp for the next two days and nights. Three deputies were guarding our house from the time it got dark until daylight. Ken Smith was on our front porch with a shotgun and pistol. Don Huddle was on our back porch, also armed with a shotgun and pistol. And Ben Daniels was across the street from our house armed with a rifle and pistol. But nothing happened until the third night.

  Uncle Mark was right about the gang striking at night. But he was wrong about how they would do it. They didn't sneak into town. All six of them rode into town about two o'clock in the morning. They rode at a gallop right down Main Street shooting out windows in the Marshal's office and places of business. They exchanged shots with deputies on patrol, but nobody was hit. It is almost impossible to hit a man hunched over in the saddle on a galloping horse. And it is also almost impossible for the man on the horse to hit anything while riding at a gallop.

  The gang stopped when they reached the end of Main Street on the east side of town. They got off their horses and took cover by the livery stable and blacksmith shop. They had Main Street on the east side covered this way. A gun battle began to rage between the deputies and outlaws.

  The deputies guarding the three homes heard the shooting. They believed the outlaws were cornered, so they left their posts. Uncle Mark and the five deputies came out of his office right after the shooting started. They mounted their horses and rode down to the other side of the railroad tracks. The outlaws were shooting blindly down the street. Deputies were shooting back from behind empty beer kegs, a water trough, and from doorways of buildings.

  Then Uncle Mark saw the deputies who were supposed to be guarding the three homes come running down Main Street. That was when Uncle Mark proved he was a very smart law officer. He figured this shooting was just a diversion to draw the deputies away from the three homes. He guessed that Cal Roberts had left part of his gang at the end of Main Street, while he and the rest of his gang were circling around the outskirts of town and going back to the west side. Uncle Mark had a terrible decision to make in a second. But he knew as a lawman his first duty was to protect Judge Potter. He ordered two deputies named Johnson and Stevens to follow him. They rode at a gallop to the Judge's house.

  Judge Potter and his wife had been awakened by the sound of gunfire. They got out of bed, put on their robes, and went into the parlor. Judge Potter called to the deputy who was supposed to be guarding the front porch. He received no answer. Then he went to the back porch and discovered that deputy also gone. He armed himself with a rifle and sat in the parlor with his wife. He was watching out the front window when he saw two men ride up and dismount in front of his house. They kept their heads down and it was too dark for the Judge to recognize them. They walked to the front porch. The two men were Cal Roberts and Jack Austin.

  "Are you all right, Judge?" Austin called through the front door. "Mark Trainor sent us to check on you. The gang is bottled up on the east side of town."

  Judge Potter didn't recognize the voice but assumed my uncle had sent two deputies after discovering the others had left the Judge's home unprotected. He opened the door. Austin grabbed the rifle away from him and used the butt of it to knock Mrs. Potter unconscious.

  "Get the rope," Cal Roberts said, holding a pistol against the Judge's head. "We don't want any shootin' to attract attention."

  Austin ran to his horse and came back with a rope. The outlaws had planned carefully. The rope had a hangman's noose on the end of it. He put the noose around Judge Potter's neck and tightened it.

  "Goin' to hang you, Judge," Roberts said, "just like you would like to hang me. Goin' to hang you on that tree in front of your house. Then I'll get them other two and hang them too."

  Uncle Mark saw the two horses in front of the Judge's house and he and his deputies dismounted a block away.

  Then al
l three of them ran toward the house. The outlaws were about to hang Judge Potter when Uncle Mark got within revolver range. He shouted for the outlaws to surrender. Austin ran for his horse. Uncle Mark shot and killed him.

  Using the Judge as a shield, Cal Roberts fired three shots. One bullet hit Deputy Johnson, who fell to the ground. Uncle Mark and Deputy Stevens were afraid to shoot back for fear of hitting the Judge. Then Roberts threw the Judge to the ground and fired a shot at him before running for the corner of the house. Uncle Mark and Deputy Stevens opened fire. Uncle Mark said later he believed one of their bullets had hit the outlaw.

  My uncle had told me one time that any outlaw who belonged to a gang of bandits was a coward at heart. He said the only outlaws with real courage were the ones who worked alone. Cal Roberts proved my uncle to be right that night. He must have become panic-stricken after Austin was killed. If he'd had real courage and used his head, he would have put his pistol to Judge Potter's head and threatened to kill him if Uncle Mark didn't let him escape. My uncle admitted he would have done just that to save the Judge's life. But Cal Roberts, facing danger all by himself, ran instead.