“You’re lucky you ain’t,” the leader answered. “Now let’s ride.”
Twenty minutes after the raid started, it ended just as suddenly. Most of San Leanna was ablaze. Bodies were scattered in the streets. All the horses had been driven out of Munson’s Livery by the attackers, no animal left for any possible pursuers. Smoke, along with the hoof beats of the retreating Ghost Riders horses, drifted into the night sky.
● ● ●
Jim, Smoky, J.R., and their new riding companions, Chuck and Eddie McIlroy, had spent several frustrating days trying to find any sign of the Ghost Riders. It seemed as if the renegades had disappeared from the face of the Earth without a trace. However, they had just run across four white-robed men, who were hunkered down in the brush overlooking a small ranch, apparently preparing to attack once night fell. The four had no idea the Rangers had spotted them, until Jim’s voice cut through the air like the crack of a whip.
“Don’t move a muscle, any of you, unless you want bullets in your backs,” he ordered. Two of the startled men leapt to their feet.
“That’s far enough! There’s five guns pointed at you.” Jim growled. “Just get your hands up over your heads. You two on the ground, get up, slow and easy. Raise your hands, too. Texas Rangers. You’re under arrest.”
“All right, all right,” one of the men said. “Don’t shoot us, Ranger, please. We weren’t meanin’ any harm. We’re not even wearin’ any guns.”
“Chuck, Eddie, you want to take those masks off of ’em?” Jim asked. “Mebbe you’ll recognize ’em.”
“Gladly, Ranger,” Chuck said. He and his brother stripped the masks off the captives, to reveal the faces of four teenagers, none more than sixteen years old. Their eyes were glassy with fear. Two of them stood trembling.
“Those ain’t any of the Ghost Riders,” Smoky said, with a curse. “They’re just a bunch of snot-nosed kids.”
“You’d better explain yourselves. Start talkin’,” Jim ordered. “Names first.”
“Sure. Sure, Ranger,” the oldest one answered. “I’m Dave Houston. This is my brother Paul, and our buddies, Oscar Prentiss and Roberto Quinones. Our friends Bobby and Bret Coombs live at that ranch over yonder. We was just gonna scare ’em, pretendin’ to be the Ghost Riders. We wanted to get even with ’em for stealin’ our clothes when we were swimmin’ in the creek a while back. We had to try’n sneak back home and get other duds without anyone seein’ us, plumb naked as we was. Only thing, Bobby and Bret had told the Lennox sisters, there’s three of them, what they’d done. Those gals waited for us, and laughed their fool heads off when they saw us. It was downright embarrassin’. So, we were just tryin’ to get back at Bobby and Bret.”
“Did it ever occur to you that you might have gotten your fool heads shot off?” J.R. asked.
“No, Ranger, it sure didn’t,” Dave shook his head. “I reckon we was plumb foolish.”
“I’d reckon you were,” J.R. agreed.
“Take those robes off, so we can make certain you’re not armed,” Jim ordered.
“Yessir, Ranger,” Dave answered. “Right away.”
The four boys pulled off their robes. As Dave had said, none of them wore a gun.
“I guess you’re tellin’ us the truth,” Jim said. “Go on, get outta here. And you might think twice before you try’n pull a stunt like that again. Not only might those folks down below have shot you, if anyone had come along and seen you in those getups they could very well have plugged you, and asked questions later. You’d better get rid of those outfits, too. Folks are on edge, and if they had any thoughts you four were involved with the Ghost Riders…”
“Okay, Ranger. You made your point,” Dave answered. He and his friends gathered up their robes, retrieved their horses, mounted, and rode away.
“Another dead end, Jim,” Smoky said. “Where do we go now?”
“We’re not all that far from Junction,” Jim answered. “We’ll head there, and wire Headquarters. Maybe Cap’n Storm’s got some new information for us. Mount up.”
● ● ●
The Western Union office in Junction was in a room of the Texas Central Railroad station. After sending their message to Captain Storm, Jim and his partners went across the street, to have a quick dinner at the Railroad Café. They were halfway through the meal when the telegrapher hurried in. He looked around the room, spotted the Rangers, and rushed over to them.
“Rangers. I’m certainly glad I found you,” he said. “I’ve got a reply to your wire. It seemed too important to wait, so I brought it over to you. Here.”
He handed Jim a yellow flimsy. Jim read the contents, his blue eyes darkening with anger, glittering like chips of ice.
“Jim. What’s that say?” Smoky asked.
“See for yourself.” Jim handed Smoky the paper.
Ghost Riders hit San Leanna four days ago STOP Wives safe STOP Cp E Storm it read.
“Oh, my Gawd!” Smoky exclaimed.
“What is it, Smoke?” J.R. asked.
“The Ghost Riders attacked San Leanna,” Smoky said.
“Your home town?”
“That’s right, J.R.,” Jim said. “Let’s go.”
They left their meal unfinished, paid their bill, and headed for the train station. A single ticket agent was working the counter.
“May I help you gentlemen?” he asked, when Jim and his partners walked up to his window.
“You sure can,” Jim said. “What time does the next train leave for Austin?”
“There’s one leaving in two hours. The Number 47. It does make one stop between here and Austin, in Fredericksburg. It will arrive in Austin about seven tonight.”
“We’ll need five seats,” Jim said. He pulled out his railroad pass and shoved it under the grate.
“Certainly, Ranger.” He glanced at the pass, then the badges pinned to Jim’s, Smoky’s, and J.R.’s vests. “Now, of course, you Rangers ride on your state passes, but what about the two young’ns with you? They’ll need to purchase tickets.”
“They’re deputies from McCulloch County, and they’re with us on assignment,” Jim answered. “They’ll ride on our passes. I’ll sign the voucher.”
“That’s fine, Ranger.” The agent stamped five tickets for the train to Austin. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Yeah,” Jim answered. “We’ve got five horses that have to ride with us. We’ll need a cattle or box car added to the train.”
“That’s rather irregular, but I’ll see what I can do,” the agent said.
“Just make certain it gets done,” Jim ordered. “We’re on the trail of the Ghost Riders.”
“The Ghost Riders?” the agent echoed. He paled slightly. “The worst outlaw scum to darken the face of Texas in years? You’ll have that box car, Ranger. I guarantee it.”
“Much obliged,” Jim answered. He took the tickets and shoved them in his vest pocket. After that, he and his partners returned to the telegraph office, where Jim composed a message to Captain Storm telling him they had arranged passage on the first train to Austin, and the time it was due to arrive.
“Nothin’ to do now for a couple of hours, until our train pulls in,” he told the others. “There’s a saloon across the street. We might as well get ourselves some liquid refreshment.”
The two hours seemed like an eternity to the anxious lawmen. What exactly had happened in San Leanna? How many people had been killed, people who were friends of Jim and Smoky? How many businesses and homes had been destroyed? And what exactly did Captain Storm mean by ‘wives safe’? Had Julia and Cindy been in town when the raiders hit? Were they safe, but injured? Or worse? Mary Jane, too, crossed Jim’s mind. And where was Charlie? Did he know about the attack? Perhaps most important, had the raiders left any clues behind? Did anyone have an idea where they might be headed next, and was there a posse, or hopefully a company of Rangers, on their trail? The answers would have to wait until they reached Austin.
Jim’s sars
aparilla, and the others’ beers, were without taste to them. They merely sipped at the drinks, each lost in his own thoughts. Finally, fifteen minutes ahead of schedule, they heard the whistle of the approaching Number 47.
“Time to go, boys,” Jim said. They took last swallows of their drinks, then went to the station. Twenty-five minutes later, their horses were settled in a box car, the men seated in the rearmost passenger coach. With a hissing of steam, clanking of couplers, clanging of the locomotive’s bell, and a blast on its whistle, Number 47 chuffed out of San Leanna, eastward bound for Fredericksburg and Austin.
12
Despite their anxiety about what had happened to their home town, Jim and Smoky, as well as the others, did manage to snatch some sleep on the ride to Austin. They awoke at the conductor’s call of “Next Stop – Austin.” When the train rolled into the station, they saw Captain Storm on the platform, waiting for them. They were already standing on the car’s steps while the train was still rolling, and jumped off even before it came to a complete stop.
“Over here, men,” Captain Storm called to them. They hurried up to him.
“Howdy, Cap’n,” Jim said.
“Same goes for me,” Smoky added.
“And me,” J.R. said.
“Who’s the youngsters you’ve got there?” Storm asked.
“These boys here are Chuck and Eddie McIlroy,” Jim answered. “Their pa was sheriff of McCulloch County. Both he and their ma were killed by the Ghost Riders. They asked if they could ride with us, and I said it’d be okay. How bad are things in San Leanna?”
“Glad to meet you boys,” Storm said, as he shook Chuck, then Eddie’s hands, “I’m not gonna sugarcoat things, Jim,” he continued. “They hit your town real hard. Let’s get your horses, and I’ll tell you more as we ride.”
“Okay, Cap’n.”
The horses were unloaded, cinches tightened, bridles slipped into place, then the men mounted. Captain Storm’s blue roan, Major, was tied out front of the station. Once Storm was in the saddle, they put the horses into a fast lope.
“All right, men,” Storm said. “Here’s what we know, so far. First, Jim and Smoke, neither of your wives was in town when the raid happened. They’re both safe. And I let them know you’d be comin’ home tonight. That said, Jim, I’ve got bad news about Charlie’s wife and family. Her mother and father are dead. Mary Jane’s still alive, but in real bad shape. It’s real questionable whether or not she pulls through.”
Jim stiffened in his saddle, but didn’t say a word in reply. He stared straight ahead at the horizon.
“How many others, Cap’n?” Smoky asked.
“A dozen, so far, that we’re certain of,” Storm answered. “The Jarratts, the marshal, Tom Colburn, and the dressmaker, Emma Pullium. The other bodies we’ve recovered were burned beyond recognition, or in so many pieces they didn’t even look human. But we’re positive two of them were the O’Malley’s, who owned a restaurant, and another is Beau Stanton, the saloon owner. At least we’re as positive as we can be. They’re all missin’, and the last anyone saw of them they were in their businesses. There were a few bones left in the saloon, so we’re assuming some of them were what’s left of Stanton. The other remains were most likely customers. The restaurant and Jarratt’s store were dynamited. The saloon was burned to the ground, as was most of the town. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but there’s no other way to describe what happened.”
“Has Charlie gotten the news yet, Cap’n?” Jim asked, his voice thick with anger.
“Not yet.” Storm shook his head. “He and Ty Tremblay delivered some prisoners to Huntsville. They weren’t gonna communicate with me until they got back. They left there three days ago, which means they’ll be arrivin’ home sometime late tomorrow. Jim, I’m glad you got here first. What happened’s gonna be real hard on your boy. You bein’ here for him will help cushion the blow, at least a little. Not that I’m sayin’ it ain’t also rough on you and Smoky. I know you’ve lost a lot of friends.”
“Not as rough as it’s gonna be on those s.o.b.s, when we catch up to ’em,” Smoky said. He took a long drag on the quirly dangling from his lips.
“Cap’n, you have any idea which way those men went after the raid?” J.R. asked. “Is anybody on their trail?”
“Yes, and no,” Storm answered. “With the marshal dead, along with so many other folks, no one was able to go after that outfit until some of us Rangers got there. Josiah Stubbs, the banker, told us they headed north. We did find some tracks which led out of town, toward Austin. Once they hit the main road, those hoof prints got mixed in with all the others. What little sign was left got obliterated by all the traffic, of course. You know how many freight wagons roll over that road. I’m certain once those raiders rode out of town, but before they got to the road, they pulled off their robes and stuffed ’em in their saddlebags, then rode along as if nothin’ had happened, as if they didn’t have a care in the world.”
“But they’d have to be haulin’ a heap of stolen goods, not to mention horses,” Smoky said.
“We thought of that,” Storm answered. “All they’d need was a couple of pack horses to carry whatever they took. As far as the stolen horses, you know horse herds are always bein’ moved around, as they’re bought and sold. Unless those hombres made a slip, there’d be no reason for anyone to suspect they were drivin’ a bunch of rustled horses. Also, I’d wager after they attack they only ride at night, and hole up somewhere before the sun rises. I’d also imagine they switch out some of their horses for darker ones they stole. That way, if anybody did happen across ‘em, they wouldn’t still be mounted on all light horses, which would raise some suspicions. And I don’t need to remind you they don’t leave many witnesses. And pickin’ on small towns, easy targets, they’re long gone by the time any effective pursuit can be organized. I’m afraid we’re up against a tough one, Jim. And of course we’ve got men out there, plus every lawman in Texas is on the lookout for that outfit. But so far, no luck. I figure that’s about to change, though.”
“How’s that, Cap’n Storm, if you don’t mind my askin’?” Eddie questioned.
“Because with Jim Blawcyzk, Smoky McCue, and J.R. Huggins on their trail, it’s only a matter of time before those so-called ‘Ghost Riders’ are run to ground,” Storm answered. “As Jim would say, I’d bet my hat on that.”
“Let’s get movin’ faster,” Jim said. He kicked Sizzle into a gallop.
● ● ●
A little more than an hour after leaving Austin, the five men rode into San Leanna. This time of year, mid-summer, the sun set well after eight o’clock, so there was still enough light for them to see the destruction the Ghost Riders had wrought. Nearly every building in the small town had been destroyed or severely damaged. Some of the rubble had been removed, but most of it still remained, piles of burnt timbers and ashes. Mercifully, it seemed many of the homes had somehow survived, but of the businesses, only Hal Munson’s livery stable seemed unscathed. There was nothing at all left of O’Malley’s Restaurant or the Shenandoah Saloon. The Duncan Hotel had collapsed, only its rear wall still standing, blackened and charred. The few establishments which had not been burned had their windows shattered, their contents looted. The First State Bank of San Leanna still stood, but it had been gutted by fire, its windows were gaping holes, its stone walls blackened by smoke. Even the town’s three churches had not escaped the attack completely. The cross had been shot off St. Cecelia’s steeple, the First Methodist Church’s front windows were blown out, and the Union Baptist Church, which was located closer to the center of town than the others, had one side scorched from the flames which had destroyed the harness shop. The town was eerily quiet. Not one person was in sight, although some of the homes had lamps glowing behind drawn curtains.
As they rode down the main street, a young man stepped from the shadows. He was holding a rifle, and wore a Ranger’s badge.
“Howdy, Cap’n,” he called. “Jim, Smoky, J.R. I figured
you’d be comin’ along any time now. Who’s that with you?”
“Chuck and Eddie McIlroy,” Jim answered. “They lost their folks to this same bunch, up in Brady. They’ve been ridin’ with us.”
“I’m glad to see you’re keepin’ a sharp eye out, Bert,” Storm said, to Ranger Bert Kline. “The last thing we’d need here is looters… not that there’s much left to loot. But there’s always some low-lives ready to take advantage of others’ misfortunes.”
“Smoky, Jim, I’m sure sorry about what happened here,” Kline said.
“Thanks, Bert,” Smoky answered.
“Same here, Bert,” Jim added.
“Where is everybody?” Chuck asked.
“The few folks that are left have already called it a night,” Kline answered.
“There’s no reason for ’em to stick around, with most of the town gone,” Captain Storm said. “Everyone’s undoubtedly worn out, after what happened, plus havin’ to start to clean up this mess. And, they just held the last of the funerals yesterday. I’m certain everyone needs to rest. We’ll come back in the morning. Folks’ll be out and about, gettin’ ready to rebuild. We could stop in at the doctor’s to check on Charlie’s wife, and a couple of others who are there, but they’re probably sleepin’, and I’d hate to disturb them.”
“Are you certain Julia’s not with Mary Jane?” Jim asked.
“No, she’s not. I was here in San Leanna when I got your message. Doctor Watson insisted she go home and get some rest. Cindy, too. They’ve both been here, helping out, since the attack took place.”
“Make that we’ll be back at sunup, Cap’n,” Jim said. “I don’t want to bother folks tonight either, and the sun’ll be settin’ soon, which means no light to look around. But I want to begin diggin’, soon as it’s light enough to get started. Meantime, I want to get home to Julia. The rest of you can spend the night at my place. Except you, Smoke. I’ve got a feelin’ you’d rather sleep in your own bed.”
The Ghost Riders Page 17