On their way out of the office, going towards the stables, Lt. Woodson comes up to the group of men crossing the compound.
David approaches the young lieutenant, asking him about how he’s feeling. The two men continue a quiet conversation all the way to the stables.
In less than an hour, there is a group of ten riders that approach Paul’s livery. Paul is almost beside himself, busy making room for so many mounts. John almost feels sorry for the gigantic man, but then Capt. Richards giving him thirty dollars to watch the ten horses for up to two hours, and Paul’s eyes get considerably larger. John has to fight laughing at the look on the giant man’s face.
As the group enters the hotel, John sees Joseph at the registration desk. He gasps, rushes out from behind the desk and greets the group of people.
“We’re here for lunch,” Capt. Richards says simply.
Joseph nods, motions the group forward, and rushes into the dining room. John fights back a laugh as he hears Joseph call out, “Sean! Boy! W’here’d ya git off ta, now?”
John sees Sean enter from the back door, apparently having been working in the garden. Sean takes one look at the group of people, shakes his head and sighs. He goes through the dining room into the kitchen.
Joseph and Sean come back out after a moment and ask assistance moving some tables around allowing the whole group to sit together. The father and son go back to the kitchen to return several moments later with a tray each of glasses of water for each person. As they return, the last of the party is seated.
Chapter 49
It takes a surprisingly short amount of time for most everyone to decide what they want. The two longest decision makers are the Logans.
The conversation at the table is lively, but respectful. Joey is involved in a discussion with Capt. Logan about the differences in calibers. John is reminiscing about his cavalry days with Judge Logan, Capt. Richards, and David listening in. The lieutenants are quietly chatting about politics in the garrison.
When the food is brought out, Judge Logan rises and prays a blessing over the meal, everyone but John bowing their heads. As he finishes, his “Amen” is echoed by most people at the table.
John is feeling distinctly more uncomfortable as time goes on. He still doesn’t understand why these people put their faith into an unseen force.
The conversation throughout the meal continues as it began. Finally, as the meal is wrapping up, Judge Logan asks Joey, “So, Marshal. Do you have any arrangements for transporting the prisoners to Guthrie yet?”
Joey lays her forearms on the table, then leans on them and nods towards Richards. “Capt. Richards and I talked about that earlier. He’s offering several troopers to come help. It seems that he’s giving them a week’s furlough for helping out.”
Richards grins. “Nah. The boys have had the time off coming to them. I’m just making use of what we already had. Plus, this puts them in the right place at the right time. Guthrie is a much better place for a holiday than either Norman or Oklahoma Station.”
Judge Logan grimaces. “Well, just make sure they don’t get too rowdy. Remember, I’m the circuit judge and I don’t wanna lock any of them up for being too stupid.”
Richards nods. “These troopers are more well-behaved than most marshals. They just need to have time off. You know sleep in a real bed, have a drink, have a woman. The whole troop has been doing things for so long, they need time away to stop being soldiers, and know how to be men again.”
John understands the sentiment. A person will start getting comfortable behind the walls of the fort, or garrison. After awhile, it becomes the world against you, you start seeing enemies where none exist.
Joey nods. “I know a part of that. In my days as a bounty hunter, I had to take time off, or else, I’d start going stir crazy.” She shakes her head. “Who would have thought my first official act as U.S. Marshal would be to do this?”
John looks at her sharply. “How long you been a Marshal?”
“About two weeks,” she chuckles.
John groans. “Only I would be unlucky enough to have to deal with a greenhorn marshal.”
She is about to snap at him, until she sees his broad smile, and the mischievous gleam in his eye. “Well, at least I’m a U.S. Marshal, not just some lowly Town Marshal, well outside his jurisdiction.”
All the men at the table that are in hearing range laugh raucously.
David says above the din, “Point goes to Blackwolf. You gotta catch up John, he’s already ahead of you.”
The laughter at the table increases.
Lunch finishes smoothly. The soldiers head back to the fort. The judge checks in to the hotel, Joey heads over to the train station to make arrangements for the prisoner transport. Lyttle leaves to go back to his office. John and David head off to start gathering supplies.
Their first trip is to the lumber yard. They order more than a hundred dollars in lumber. At first, the foreman of the lumberyard refuses to deliver the wood to Denver, but the additional fifty dollars in delivery fees that John gives him, nudges him into agreeing to the delivery.
With a signed receipt in hand, John and David make their way to the general store. On the way over there, the two have a quiet discussion about what to buy. John confesses to not wanting to make Miss Rebekah have to eat the cost of providing him a room, so he wants to pay his way with items that the hotel can use. David agrees, but is unsure what to buy, what is needed that badly at the hotel.
They both enter the general store, just browsing around, when they are approached by a tall, well-built, well-tanned, young brunette man. When John gives the man an explanation, the look in the man’s eye is speculative. He goes to the back room, returning a moment later with an older man, who could easily be the young man’s father, or grandfather.
The older man takes a look at John, nods and says, “How can I help you today, Officer?” The younger man looks at the older man in surprise, then looks at John with a look of respect.
John nods and explains the dilemma.
The older man listens carefully, stroking his jaw thoughtfully. Then after John finishes his explanation, the older man asks John how many rooms are in the hotel.
David replies, “Eight.”
The older man motions everyone to follow him. He goes behind a counter and pulls out a ledger. He thumbs through it a bit and says, “The lanterns come ten to a crate, the flatware and cutlery come eight sets to a crate. All the crates are packed in straw. The only problem here is, we can’t deliver the crates out of Norman. It’s just me and my son, here, running things. Neither one of us is able to be gone more than a few hours at a time.”
John nods his understanding. “Do you have any lamp oil for purchase?”
The old man flips through his ledger a moment and says, “Yes. We can sell you three five-gallon barrels. You gonna be able to find someone to deliver it all?”
John nods. “If I have to buy a wagon new to do it, I will. Though, I am having other stuff get shipped as well, so . . .”
“You can understand my wanting to make sure you pay before you pick it up, right?”
“Absolutely. Speaking of pay?”
“For the lanterns, the crate will be sixty dollars, for the dishes forty-eight. For the oil, it will be fifteen per barrel.”
John reaches in his vest and pulls out a check. “I’m told this will work most anywhere here in Norman. Will you be willing to accept it?”
The old man looks at the check, thinks a moment, then nods. “I can have Jason go cash it shortly. Though, it should just be a simple transfer between accounts.”
John fills out the piece of paper, signs it, hands it over, then asks, “Where can I get some reliable weapons and ammo?”
The old man points to John’s rig and revolver. “You need more than that?”
John nods. “Outfitting my marshal’s office with weapons.”
“Oh. Best place around here is Spade’s. He’s three doors down across the street.”
“I appreciate the information. Can I get a receipt for all that?” John asks politely.
“Sure.” The old man hands the younger one the check, shooing him towards the bank across the street and fills out the receipt.
John takes the receipt, waves it in a half salute, then turns and leaves, with David following closely behind.
The store has a sign out front saying “Spade’s” and has a picture of the king of spades card. As the two men enter the shop, John’s first impression is the smells of metal and oil. The second, is the smell of freshly dyed leather.
When the door to the shop closes, John hears a bell ring in the back. He also hears a deep bass voice say, “Yeah? Whatcha want now?”
John calls out, “Hello?”
“Oh, sorry. Thought you were someone else.” He sees a thinner black man enter the main shop from the back. Save for the color of his hair, which is a pure silver, the man looks to be in his twenties. He makes a dismissive wave. “Sorry, but I’ve been getting bugged by a local, recently. How can I help you, gentlemen?”
John motions around the shop. “I am looking at outfitting a marshal’s office with enough hardware to stop an army. Can you help us?” John’s smile is broad.
“Oh, I think I can do somethin’ ta help ya. Whatcha thinkin’?”
“I need at least two revolvers, two repeaters, and a three shotguns. All with as much ammo as can be mustered.”
“That’s gonna be expensive. I got several repeaters and revolvers, all with common ammo. The shotguns, well I just put out half a dozen twelve gauges.” He motions around. “I got close to five thousand 45/70 rounds, if you got the money to cover it. The pistols go for thirty dollars, the repeaters, forty-five. It will be twenty for the 12 gauges and on the ammo, four dollars for a box of one hundred.” He crosses his arms. “The question is, how much are you willing to spend?”
John shifts from one foot to another. He does some quick math. “So I can get a pair of revolvers, a pair of repeaters, and a trio of shotguns. The only question I have for you is, how much ammo? Will you be willing to cut me a deal for it? It’s not like I’m not spending enough as it is, right?”
Spade gives John an even look. “I can give you the guns, five hundred rounds, and a hundred shotgun shells for two hundred fifty dollars. That’s the best I can do.”
John nods, then smiles. “I was hoping you were gonna say that.” He counts out the gold in the purse and hands it over. “Done. Can we get some boxes or something to carry it all in?”
The gunsmith looks down at the amount of gold sitting in his possession. He smiles. “Yeah. Just a minute. I’ll get it all put together for you.”
He comes back out a minute later with a long crate, holding numerous firearms and numerous boxes of ammunition. He sets it down on the counter.
John picks up a repeater rifle and flips it over. It is a good condition ‘75 Army 45/70, no special markings, and the action is smooth. He is thoroughly impressed. This good of a weapon for less than fifty dollars? Almost unheard of. He picks up a revolver, turns it over, and works the action several times. It’s tight, but smooth. These guns are obviously meant to be service weapons.
He nods in appreciation of the quality and picks up a shotgun. Just like its brothers, it is in good condition. There are some marks on the shoulder stock, but otherwise, it is perfect. He works the hammers, triggers, and break-open. Everything is in order. He opens all the boxes of ammo. The 45/70’s are wad-cutters. The 12 gauges are slugs.
This would put down a small revolution, alright. Let’s just hope that this equipment will not be needed.
David, having remained silent all this time, whistles lowly. He looks at the weapons, with a look of admiration. “I’m not one much for violence, but those things are real pretty.”
John nods his agreement. “Yeah, I like that the repeaters and revolvers are the same caliber. Too bad they aren’t the same caliber as Baby, here.” He pats the stock of his holstered revolver. “Now I know we have enough ammo in case of trouble.” He notices Spade looking at his gun speculatively. “Lemme guess, you’ve seen someone else carrying this gun before, haven’t you?” he asks archly.
“Nope. I was just admiring its beauty.” He leans forward a bit and asks, “Is that a ‘69 conversion?”
John nods.
“It’s been awhile since I’ve seen one of them. It sure is a beaut.”
John carefully pulls his pistol and shows it to the man. The gunsmith’s eyes widen in appreciation. He holsters the thirty year old gun. “So I would like to get a holster for each of these revolvers. I also want a box of your .45 ammo for Baby.”
“Those holsters will be three dollars each. The .45 ammo is the same price as the 45/70. How much you want?”
“I think a single box will be fine. Since I can’t switch ammo between the revolvers and mine . . . ” John spreads his hands.
Spade nods. He turns and leaves, returning moments later with a pair of plain black holsters, as well as another box of ammo, this one for John’s gun. “So that will be another ten dollars even.”
John reaches for another check when David steps forward and says, “You’re gonna owe me for this,” and gives Spade ten dollars in cash.
“Yeah, I’ll owe ya ten dollars.” John says with a wide smile.
Chapter 50
About an hour later, carrying the box with the guns and ammo, John and David enter the hotel. They are greeted by Joey and Judge Logan, headed to dinner together.
Joey walks up and glances inside the open box for a moment and whistles low. “Nice hardware. Plan on putting down a revolution or something?”
“Never hurts to be prepared. I’m gonna go drop this off in my room, then be right down.” He lifts the box a bit, indicating his plan.
Joey nods, turns, then heads into the dining room with Judge Logan and David in tow.
John smiles broadly. I feel sorry for any man she ever gets together with. He chuckles and shakes his head as he goes up the stairs.
Several minutes later, he sits at a table, looking at a menu, trying to decide what he is in the mood for.
Sean comes up and delivers their drinks when David asks John, “How are you planning on getting all that stuff to Denver and still go by White?”
Sean stops in his tracks as he is stepping away, listening to John’s response.
John takes a drink of his Guinness. “Not sure. I figure I may have to buy a wagon to bring it all back. Either that, or hire someone who has a wagon. Now that we’ve bought it, the hard part’s done.”
Sean turns around and asks, “W’hat all didja git?”
John looks curiously at the young man. “A crate of lamps, a crate of dishes, several small barrels of lamp oil, and a box of guns with ammo. Why do you ask?”
“’Member, ye’re takin’ four casks o’ the Guinness as well, right?”
John shakes his head. “No, I forgot, but that’s okay, I guess they will have to be on the same wagon then. Know anyone that will be able to sell me, or freight that stuff out for us?”
“For a price. Mebbe. Ya sed t’his is goin’ ta Denver?” John nods. “Abou’ how far is it?”
“About fifteen miles, or so.”
“Ya hafta take care transportin’ the Guinness. Too much bangin roun’, it kin blow up on ya. I be right back.” He goes back to the kitchens suddenly.
John looks at the others at the table questioningly. Everyone shakes their head, indicating that they don’t know either.
Sean comes back a couple of minutes later. “I’ll tell ya what. If’n ya kin wait til tamarraw, I kin look at movin’ the stuff fer ya, fer another fifteen dollars. We genrally rent a cart from Paul, for movin’ stuff ‘round Norman.”
John works his mouth a moment. “Throw in a couple cakes of your soap, and you’ll get twenty dollars.”
“Ya got’cha self a deal.” Sean nods, spits in his hand and offers it to John, who spits in his and shakes. “Done and done.”
John nods, smiling. “So that means I’ll give you an extra sixty dollars tomorrow when we check out, right?”
Sean nods in agreement. “Unless ya fo’lks drink a h’ole lot more, t’hat’s all ya’ll will owe, too.”
John smiles in acceptance. He knows they aren’t charging him for stuff they normally would.
Sean excuses himself, turns, leaves and returns a few moments later with the steaming food.
As usual, when the food is set out in front of everyone, David says a prayer over the food, making John feel just as uncomfortable as before. As he finishes the prayer, his “Amen” is echoed by everyone else at the table, save for John.
Joey asks about the supplies they got, to which John explains the wood, lamps, oil and dishes. She seems intrigued by his reasons, asking why he feels compelled to pay like he is.
“I have been paying my own way for thirty years now. If David and Miss Rebekah ever plan to get on their feet, then she can’t be having me stay around, eating up her profits.”
Joey nods, looks at David speculatively, then asks, “So all you’re waiting on, is to get enough money to marry, then?”
David shakes his head. “I want to take my bride home to our house, not my office or her hotel.”
Joey nods in acknowledgment. “I can imagine. I wouldn’t want to get married until I had a place to call my own, either.”
John enjoys the company throughout the rest of dinner. Eating with everyone at the table is like being among old friends. Rarely, has he ever enjoyed his downtime like this.
At the end of dinner, Judge Logan says he is going to try out the hotel’s baths. David immediately volunteers to join him.
John sighs in relief when David says there’s only two bath tubs, and that he and Marshal Blackwolf will have to wait their turns. He sees Joey’s look of gratitude as he effectively volunteers to stand guard over her again.
Several minutes later, Sean comes over and clears the table. David mentions wanting to have a bath, to which Sean replies, “Tha rest ‘o ya’ wantin’ one, ta?”
The Marshal of Denver Page 28