by Ben Ray
‘I don’t have any spare socks, Doc,’ Adams said.
‘Why am I not surprised,’ the doc replied. ‘I’ll give you one o’ mine. On second thoughts, I’ll give you a pair.’
The doc left the room and went to his bedroom and rummaged around for an old pair of socks.
‘Shall I kill him now?’ Clarke said.
‘Hell, no! He’s done my foot. We’ll pay him and leave, scout the town awhile and see what we can find out about the James-Younger gang, or what’s left of it.’
‘OK,’ Clarke replied, ‘if you think that’s best.’
‘We don’t want to make our presence felt. You kill the doc and the town will be on guard. We gotta keep quiet,’ Adams said as the doctor returned.
‘Thanks, Doc,’ Adams said, smiling. ‘How much do I owe you?’
‘Five dollars would cover it, if that’s all right with you?’
‘Fine by me. Thanks, Doc,’ Adams handed over the money as Mackay slid the sock on and passed the right boot to Clarke.
‘There you go. I got a spare stick you can use, try and keep your weight off the foot for a week or two, OK?’
‘Thanks again, Doc, we’ll be on our way,’ Adams said as he swung his legs off the table and, holding the stick in his left hand, hobbled towards the back door.
‘It’s easier goin’ out the front door,’ Mackay said.
‘It’s OK, Doc, our horses are out back.’
‘Take care, fellas,’ the doc said, and watched them leave.
It didn’t take them long to discover their missing animals.
Reuben was ready as he watched a shard of light dimly light up the path from the doctor’s house.
Two men stood there wondering what the hell had happened to their animals. ‘You sure you tied ’em up real good?’ Adams asked Clarke.
‘Sure, I did. I ain’t stupid.’ Clarke was affronted.
‘Let’s get back inside. Someone must have seen us,’ Adams said.
‘Or the light from the doc’s surgery,’ Clarke said.
‘Whatever,’ Adams said, ‘let’s get back inside.’
The doc had just taken his dressing gown off as the two men burst into his bedroom.
‘What the—’ the doc stood, shocked.
‘Who’d you tell?’ Adams asked.
‘Tell what?’ Mackay was perplexed. ‘How could I tell anyone anythin’. You woke me up, remember?’
Adams looked at Clarke. ‘He’s right, there’s no way he could have told anyone,’ Adams said.
‘So, we got ourselves a hostage.’ Clarke grinned. ‘No one’s gonna start shootin’ while the doc’s here, are they.’
‘Damn!’ Reuben said to himself.
He ran back to Main Street and waited there for a moment, before crossing back to the sheriff’s office. The men on the boardwalk wondered what the hell was going on and, one by one, they entered the office.
‘They went back inside the doc’s place,’ Reuben said. ‘But I got a good look at them and it’s definitely Adams and Clarke.’ He took out two Wanted posters and spread them on the desk.
‘Anyone see these two tonight?’ Reuben asked.
They all shook their heads. Most of them were either getting ready for bed or already asleep when Ely and the mayor had called for their help.
‘So, they snuck into town. Why? Who are they after?’ Reuben then sat in silence.
‘They could have been tracking us,’ Ely said. ‘Though God knows why.’
‘They thought we were members of the gang,’ Reuben said.
‘What gang?’ one of the men asked.
‘The James-Younger gang, or what’s left of them.’
‘Why would they want to get them?’ another man asked.
‘These two are ex-Quantrill raiders, they didn’t want to get them, they wanted to join them.’
‘So, what do we do now?’ Ely asked.
‘We wait for them to make their move. They can’t stay in there forever,’ Reuben said.
‘Keep the men on the rooftops, but I want two men at each end of the alleyway behind the doc’s house. Ely and I will stay here and keep an eye on the front. If they’re gonna try and make a break for it using the doc as a hostage, they’ll come out the front door with him as a shield.’
Reuben looked at each of the men eye-to-eye, then said: ‘OK, let’s do this.’
The men dispersed quickly, taking up their positions.
Everything that could be ready, was ready. Now all they had to do was wait.
‘OK, Doc, get dressed, we’re quitting this here town and you’re gonna help us get out.’ Adams glared at Mackay with such intensity that the doc feared for his life if he didn’t do what he was told.
He dressed.
‘Clarke, check outside, see what’s out there,’ Adams ordered.
Clark went through to the doc’s living room and peered out the window. As far as he could see, there was no movement, no sign of life at all. In fact, it was pitch black.
‘Nothin’ movin’ out there at all,’ Clarke said, picking up his Winchester and checking the magazine. It was full.
‘Where’s the livery?’ Adams asked Doc Mackay.
‘Behind the sheriff’s office, down the far alleyway,’ Mackay replied.
‘OK. That’s where we’re headed. You lead the way. My gun will be on your back. One false move, one sound and you’re a dead man. Got it?’ Adams said, the menace in his voice sent cold shivers up the doctor’s back.
Slowly, Clarke cracked the front door, half expecting a hail of bullets. But nothing happened. He opened the door fully and took a step forward, then Adams pushed the doc in front of him, his Colt pressing against Mackay’s spine.
All three stood on the front porch for a matter of seconds before stepping down onto Main Street, heading to their right.
‘Here they come,’ Reuben whispered.
He and Ely had their rifles trained on Clarke as he was an easy target standing to the doctor’s right. Adams, stick in his left hand and his right hidden behind the doc, was to his left.
‘We gotta take Adams out first,’ Ely said, moving his rifle slightly to the right. ‘I reckon he’s got a gun in his right hand.’
‘Reckon you’re right,’ Reuben agreed, ‘let’s hope no one starts shooting, otherwise the doc’s a gonna.’
‘I can see all of Clarke,’ Reuben said, ‘but only half of Adams.’
From the other side of the office, Ely said, ‘I got three-quarters of Adams. If’n the doc don’t change direction, we should fire on three.’
‘Try not to kill them,’ Reuben said. ‘I want them alive to face trial.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ Ely replied.
‘OK. One – two – three.’
Ely got Adams in the hip at the top of his left leg. He collapsed immediately, losing hold of the walking stick.
Clarke managed to fire a shot that shattered the office window, but Reuben’s aim was as true as Ely’s. The doc just stood still, looking like the statue of a frightened rabbit.
The four men based at the rear alleyway to the doc’s house, rushed onto Main Street, ready to shoot. But Reuben was on the boardwalk and shouted for everyone to hold their fire.
‘You OK, Doc?’ Reuben called out.
‘I-I think so. I’m not hit if that’s what you mean, but I peed in my pants.’
There was a wail of laughter as Mackay made his way back to his house.
‘You better bring them back in,’ the doc said over his shoulder. ‘In about five minutes!’
Reuben and Ely disarmed both men writhing on the ground. Adams had been shot more in the buttocks than his hip, and Clarke was hit high on the right thigh.
‘Who the hell are you?’ Adams gasped.
‘I’m Ely Watson, Pinkerton agent. This here is Reuben Chisholm.’
‘You killed the Carver family and burned their house down, then you killed my wife and burned our house down, too,’ Reuben said through gritted teeth. ‘And now you
’re both gonna hang.’
‘We never killed your wife,’ Clarke said. ‘There was no one at the second house. We just took some vittles and ammo and rode on.’
‘You telling me the truth?’ Reuben asked.
‘Mister, whoever you are, I’m lyin’ here with a slug in my leg at the mercy of anyone who decides to finish me off. Why would I lie?’
‘Reuben, we better get these two into my surgery, so’s I can get these slugs out,’ Doc Mackay said. ‘There’s a stretcher behind the door. I’d better see to Clarke first. Adams just has a slug in his backside.’
The stretcher was brought out and Clarke was carried into the surgery and laid on the operating table.
Reuben followed on, and while the doc cut Clarke’s jeans off, Reuben went through his pockets to try and find any identification.
He brought out a sheriff’s badge.
‘Well, at least we now know what happened to the sheriff,’ Reuben said. ‘You kill him?’
‘Ain’t no point in denyin’ it,’ Clarke said, pain etched on his face as the doc got to work.
‘Now I need to find Grace,’ Reuben said. ‘All these years I been chasing you two and I should have been looking for her.’
‘You weren’t to know,’ Ely said. ‘If she is still alive, we’ll find her.’
‘Thanks, Ely. I appreciate the help.’
Four men entered the surgery, carrying Adams and laid the stretcher on the floor in a corner out of the way.
The doctor worked on; he used no form of anaesthetic as he dug the bullet out. He wasn’t going to waste his whiskey on the killer of his friend, the sheriff.
Removing the bullet, he poured some black powder in the wound, struck a Lucifer, and Clarke nearly hit the ceiling. Then, having sewn the wound, he bandaged it and told the men to lay him on the floor and move Adams onto the table.
He went through the same procedure, taking no notice of Adams’ moans, and finished his work.
‘That’s it. Take ’em to the cells,’ the doc said, taking a cloth to clean his bloodied hands before taking a swig of whiskey.
‘There’s nothing more to do tonight,’ Reuben said, and thanking the men for their help, suggested they all get some sleep.
There was no way Reuben would get any sleep that night. His wife, Grace, might still be alive. A thought that had never occurred to him, so convinced was he that she had been killed, just like the Carver family.
Now he had hope. Now he had something to live for.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The night sky began to recede as the sun slowly rose in the east, sending shards of red-white beams across the landscape.
There was a knock at the door and Sally stood on the boardwalk with fresh coffee and three plates of ham and eggs.
‘Thought you’d need some food,’ she said.
Ely, smelling the coffee and food, opened his eyes and yawned, before standing up and stretching. ‘That’s mighty fine of you, ma’am,’ he said.
‘I’ll bring the prisoners some food a little later,’ she demurred.
Reuben thanked her and put the tray on the desk.
Sally left the office, and Ely was certain she was blushing, although whether it was because of him or Reuben, he didn’t know.
The two men tucked in just as the mayor arrived and grabbed the third plate. ‘That Sally sure cooks a good breakfast,’ he said as he sat.
‘So,’ Ely began. ‘What’s the plan?’
‘I need to find Grace – if she’s still alive. It’s been over five years.’
‘Where the hell do we start?’ Ely asked.
‘I’m heading south,’ Reuben said. ‘Back to my old homestead. That’s where it started, and that’s where I’ll begin.’
Mopping up the egg yolk and ham fat, Reuben finished eating, drained his coffee mug and stood.
‘You leaving right now?’ the mayor asked.
Before Reuben could answer, the door burst open and a townsman Reuben didn’t know rushed in.
‘Mr Chisholm, sir. You better come outside. NOW!’
Without hesitation, Reuben rushed through the door, gun in hand.
‘You won’t need the gun,’ a soft, female voice said.
Reuben stood stock-still, hardly believing his eyes.
‘Grace! Grace, is that you?’
She dismounted and rushed towards her husband. They hugged and then a long, luxurious kiss followed.
‘But . . . how . . . I mean. . . .’ Reuben was speechless.
He led her by the hand into the sheriff’s office, poured two cups of coffee, and the mayor and Ely made a subtle exit, leaving them alone.
‘I saw the riders approaching and instinctively knew they were up to no good by the way they were galloping. I guess I panicked at first, but then I saddled up and rode south as fast as I could. I found shelter and waited two days. No one had followed me, so I slowly made my way back to the homestead. It was burned down and there was no sign of you. But the buggy was there, provisions rotting in the sun.
‘I was sure you were dead, but then I noticed the wagon’s horse was missing, and your saddle from the corral fence, so I knew you were alive. I didn’t know what to do. I rode into town, but no one seemed to know where you’d gone, so I stayed with Maud Whitely. You remember her? She owned the milliner’s store.
‘Days turned into weeks and weeks into months and finally months into years. I had to do something as it was obvious you weren’t coming back.’
‘But how did you end up here?’ Reuben asked.
‘I often went back to our home, but never saw any sign of you until the sheriff rode with me one day and pointed at the ground. It was high summer, and the ground was rock hard, but there were old tracks there. I saw the tracks of two horses, obviously old, and then I found a third. I knew it was you. I don’t know how, but I did. They headed north, so did I.’
‘But Cannon Falls?’
‘I rode for three days and ended up in a small town, I can’t remember its name, but there was a newspaper there, and a story about a failed bank robbery in Northfield. Your name was mentioned.’
‘So you went to Northfield?’
‘Yes. But you’d already left, chasing someone called Anderson. You were talked of as a bit of a hero for capturing this man, but then he was busted out of jail, which was why you had left Northfield, determined to get him back.
‘I hung around for three days, but you never returned, Eventually, I discovered which way you had headed, so I went north. I’d become quite a good tracker, believe me, I could read sign. There were a lot of tracks, some older than others, so I knew you or someone was following the older tracks.
‘I lost them for long periods, but I carried on up the trail and came across two campsites, miles apart. South of the first campsite, I came across a buggy with a grazing pony. I couldn’t see anyone nearby, so I rode on. I didn’t know where you were headed for, but I kept to the trail, and here I am, five years later.’
Reuben stood and hugged his wife again, tears running down both their faces. It was the mayor who interrupted their reunion.
He coughed in the doorway.
‘I thought you might want this,’ the mayor said, holding the sheriff’s badge towards Reuben. ‘What do you say, Sheriff?’
Grace took the badge and pinned it on Reuben’s vest. ‘He says yes,’ she replied for him.
Reuben smiled.
Cannon Falls had a new sheriff and, once the circuit judge had visited and condemned both Clarke and Adams, Reuben and Grace settled down to a peaceful and happy life.
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