A Ranger Redeemed (Lone Star Ranger Book 7)

by James J. Griffin

  “Nate, you heard what that detective said, about the train comin’ in bein’ full of newcomers to the West?” Hoot asked. “We’re gonna have some real fun with ’em.”

  “Yeah, I heard him,” Nate said. “So what? I was a newcomer out here too, not all that long ago.”

  “Yeah, but a trainload of pilgrims won’t know what to expect. At least half of ’em, mebbe more, will be thinkin’ they’re gonna see a bunch of wild, gun-slingin’ cowboys as soon as they get off that train. And that’s just what we’re gonna give ’em… a real western gunfight.”

  “I dunno.” Nate shook his head. “What if one of us gets plugged by mistake? And what’ll Lieutenant Jeb say? Seems to me we’re just askin’ for trouble.”

  Hoot slapped Nate on the back of his head.

  “We won’t be usin’ real bullets, ya idjit. We’ll use blanks. As far as Jeb goes, he’ll probably want to get in on this too. He’s done this before. We all have. Now, let’s get the other boys, so we can make our plans.”

  An hour later, they had gathered all the other men, except for Jeb, George, and Carl, who had begged off, saying he’d leave this hare-brained stunt to the younger men, and were making plans to put on a show that the new arrivals to Texas would never forget.

  “All right, we’re gonna give those tenderfeet a good ol’ western gunfight,” Hoot said. “Eddy, Gavin, Caden, I figure the rest of us’ll face off against you three, since that’ll keep things the way they were before we met up, with y’all ridin’ with another Ranger company. Does that work?”

  “It does,” Eddy said. He pulled his six-gun from its holster, twirled it, then slid it back in place. “But how’re we gonna figure out who’s gonna die, and who’s gonna live?”

  “That’s easy,” Hoot said. “We’re all gonna get plugged and bite the dust. If we’re gonna give those folks a show, then we’re gonna give those folks a show. As far as who dies when, we’ll just figure that out as we go along. Just plan on, if a man gets you in his sights and pulls the trigger, you’ve been hit. If you can act like you took two or three slugs before you go down, so much the better. Don’t die quick. Give ’em a lot of screamin’ and hollerin’, and floppin’ around before you’re dead. Any questions?”

  “I’ve got one,” Caden said. “What about the Lieutenant?”

  “He won’t care,” Hoot said. “In fact, he’d be in on this with us, if he could be. He already knows what we’re up to. His job is to let the marshal know we’re not havin’ a real gunfight, that it’s all a show. How about your sergeant, though?”

  “He won’t care either,” Caden answered. “We probably should let him know what we’re up to, though.”

  “I’ll have Jeb do that,” Hoot said. “Now, let’s go scout out the station, and find a spot for each man to get ready.”

  ****

  The arrival of a train in any frontier town was always a big event. Half-an-hour before the train was due, quite a crowd had already gathered at the station, the Rangers among them.

  Gavin, Caden, and Eddy were seated on a bench, passing a brown bottle, which ostensibly contained whiskey, but in reality held only water, amongst themselves. Hoot was sitting on a barrel, smoking a cigarette and whittling a piece of wood, while Carl, who had changed his mind and decided to take part in the stunt after all, was lounging against the station wall. Eli, Sean, Colin and Austin were standing in a knot, deep in conversation, Eli, like Hoot, smoking. Nate was seated on a chair, sketching the scene. None of them seemed to be doing much of anything, except killing time.

  Anticipation built among the crowd as the time of the train’s arrival drew nearer. Finally, the rails began to hum and vibrate, and a column of black smoke appeared, far out on the prairie. The column grew larger as the train approached. Finally, the locomotive’s whistle shrieked, and with the hissing of steam, the clanking of couplers, and the squealing of brakes, the train rolled into the station and slowed to a stop. Once it did, passengers began descending from the coaches.

  Hoot, Nate, and their partners waited until everyone was off the train. Hoot gave an almost imperceptible nod to Eddy and the Kaminski brothers. Eddy jumped to his feet.

  “What’d you just call me, mister?” he yelled at Hoot.

  “I said you’re a no-good, lowdown, yella-bellied back-shootin’ sidewinder,” Hoot yelled back. He threw himself sideways behind a luggage cart as he and Eddy grabbed for their six-guns. Instantly, the station’s platform erupted in a maelstrom of powder smoke and gunfire.

  Hoot was the first to go down, his dive behind the cart being in vain, when Eddy also dove to the platform, aimed under the cart, and slammed two shots into Hoot’s chest. Hoot screamed, rolled over several times, they lay face-down and unmoving.

  Eli and Caden took aim at each other and fired at the same time, Caden stumbling backward, his hand clutching his chest, until he hauled up against the station wall. He slid to a seated position, and his head dropped, his chin resting on his chest. Eli grabbed his belly, jackknifed, and pitched to his face.

  Sean shot Gavin between the eyes, then he went down, hard, when Eddy shot him in the side. The slightly built Ranger seemed to be everywhere at once. Each time one of the other men believed they had him in their sights, he somehow slipped away, only to pop up and shoot yet another man. After shooting Sean, he spun and gunned down Carl.

  Colin thought he had him dead to rights, but instead, took three shots from Eddy’s Colt right through his middle. Colin grabbed his belly, staggered into a lamppost, then fell to his back, hands pressed to his gut. Eddy whirled and shot Austin twice in the chest, before he could avenge his brother’s killing.

  When Eddy ducked behind a pile of crates to reload, Nate thought he had him cornered. However, Eddy only put two bullets in his gun, and when Nate came around the crates, shoved the barrel of his pistol into Nate’s belly and fired both rounds. Nate grunted, doubled over, and fell to his face.

  Eddy glanced around at the dead Rangers, blowing away the smoke dribbling from the barrel of his gun. From where he had fallen, Hoot extended his arm, lifted his gun, and shot Eddy in the back. Eddy arched in pain, screamed, then his pistol clattered to the platform as he fell to his side.

  Sudden silence descended on the Abilene train station. The passengers who had just alighted from the train stood in shock, as they stared in horror at the carnage… ten men, lying dead on the platform. The silence was broken when Jeb and George ran up to the scene, calling for a doctor.

  Nate was still semi-conscious, lying curled up on his side, with his arms wrapped around his middle, and groaning. Jeb rolled him onto his back.

  “Nate. What happened here?” he asked.

  “Dunno…Lieutenant. Hoot’n Eddy…got into an… argument. Next thing…everybody’s shootin…at each other.”

  Nate sighed, shuddered, and went slack.

  “Looks like this one’s still alive, Lieutenant,” a brakeman called, from where he stood alongside Caden.

  Jeb and George hurried to where Caden was sitting against the station wall, breathing raggedly.

  “Is what Nate just said true, Caden?” George asked. “This was all only a stupid argument?”

  “It…warn’t stupid, Sarge,” Caden answered. “That Hoot…hombre called Eddy…yella. We couldn’t…let him get away…with that.” His eyes closed, and he slumped to his side.

  “Well, if that don’t beat all,” George said. “Lieutenant, I knew your bunch was a herd of no-good stinkin’ polecats. I reckon they got what was comin’ to ’em.”

  He placed his hand on the butt of his pistol.

  “No one talks about my men like that, especially a smart mouthed sergeant,” Jeb growled. His hand hovered over his pistol for just a moment, then he and George grabbed for their guns. Both guns blazed as one, and both men went down, landing on their backs, then rolling onto their stomachs and lying motionless.

  Marshal Cavendish and Harry Smith came hurrying up.

  “What in the blue blazes happened her
e?” Cavendish demanded, of no one in particular.

  “I dunno for certain,” the same brakeman who had been standing alongside Caden, said. “There was some shoutin’, then the next thing anyone knew, all these boys pulled their guns, and started blazin’ away at each other. Looks like they did a good job of it, too. Every last one of ’em got drilled, and they’re all done for.”

  Cavendish turned to the railroad detective.

  “Smith,” he yelled. “I told you bringin’ in the Texas Rangers was a darn fool idea. Most of ’em are worse’n the outlaws they’re supposed to be chasin’. Now, what the devil am I supposed to do with a town full of dead Rangers? Austin sure ain’t gonna be happy about this.”

  “I… I don’t know,” Smith stammered.

  “Well, I sure do,” Cavendish answered. “I’m gonna load ’em on that there train of yours, and let the railroad haul ’em out of Abilene. I don’t care what explanation you come up with, as long as you keep me and my town out of it.” He turned to a group of bystanders. “You men, start pickin’ up these carcasses and toss ’em into one of the cars.”

  Their attention riveted on the marshal and detective, not of the spectators noticed the “dead” men’s shoulders were shaking, as they attempted to suppress their laughter. When two of the men bent over to pick up Jeb’s body, he rolled onto his back and sat up.

  “I don’t think you’ll have to carry me, boys,” he said. “I’ll walk over to the train, and save you the trouble.”

  The men jumped back, then began laughing. Most of the new arrivals gasped in surprise. Two of the women fainted. The others looked on in disbelief when all the “dead” Rangers picked up their six-guns, stood up, and brushed themselves off, while the Abilene residents joined in the laughter, along with the marshal, detective, and the Rangers.

  The townsfolk had observed a scenario like this one many times before. Cowboys were notorious for their sense of humor, and liked nothing more than to put on a fake showdown or bank robbery for a bunch of new arrivals to town. Even the brakeman, who had quickly figured out what was going on, joined in. Finally, hesitantly at first, the emigrants also started laughing. One of them, evidently the leader of a large group, came up to Jeb. He looked at the badge on Jeb’s vest.

  “Do you mean to tell me, Ranger, this was all one big joke?” he asked.

  “Yeah, it was,” Jeb answered. “I’m sorry if it upset anyone, but the boys like to have some fun once in a while by lettin’ off some steam, and puttin’ on a gunfight for new folks. I hope you’re not too angry about it.”

  “Angry?” The man scowled. “I’m not angry…I’m beyond angry. I’m…I’m…” He broke into a hearty laugh. Jeb looked puzzled.

  “I’m about to bust a gut laughin’,” the man continued. “You men sure enough had all of us fooled. And it was one heckuva way to be welcomed to Texas. My name’s Ezekiel Brown. Thanks for makin’ us feel that we’re wanted here. If anybody goes to as much trouble as you did, just to fool a bunch of pilgrims, it shows what we’ve heard back East, that you Texans are a real friendly sort. We’re gonna feel right at home here.”

  “Why, you’re welcome, Mr. Brown,” Jeb said, still taken aback. “And the best of luck to all of you. Now, I’ve gotta gather my men. Despite what it looks like, we’ve got work to do. Adios.”

  “Good-bye to you, sir, and may God ride with you,” Brown answered.

  As the crowd began to disperse, Jeb called his men together.

  “Okay, boys, now that you’ve had your fun, let’s get on back to the hotel, except those of you who are gettin’ on this train. You get your horses loaded, then get on board. It’s high time we got back to work.”

  Carl, Gavin, Sean, and Eli loaded their horses into the box car coupled to the end of the cars, then clambered aboard the waiting train. Once it pulled out, the other Rangers headed back to their rooms. Tonight might well be the last good rest they would have for quite some time.

  7

  Shortly after ten o’clock that same night, seven riders rode down the main street of Abilene. They reined up in front of the marshal’s office.

  “All right, you hombres get down and get inside. You’re headed for the lockup,” Carl ordered.

  The three disheveled train robbers he and his partners had captured slowly dismounted. One of them had a bloody bandage wrapped around his right shoulder.

  “You gonna take me to the doc’s, Ranger?” he asked.

  “We’ll send for him,” Carl answered. “Sean…”

  “I’ll go get him,” Sean answered. He swung his horse around, and continued down the street. Carl, Gavin and Eli shoved their three prisoners through the office door. Marshal Cavendish was sleeping in his chair, with his feet up on his desk. He dropped them to the floor and sat up.

  “What’ve we got here?” he asked.

  “Our first captured train bandits,” Carl answered. “They were waitin’ for the train at the first water stop out of town. I reckon they never expected to find Rangers on board. They put up a bit of a fight, but not much. Sean’s gone for the doc, to tend to the one who did get drilled.”

  “Anyone else get hurt?”

  “Nope. Just this one here.”

  “All right, boys, time to put you in a cell,” Cavendish ordered. “We’ll take care of the paperwork after the doc finishes his work.”

  The prisoners were led down the corridor which led to the cells, and placed in one. Once they were secured, the marshal returned to his office, where the Rangers were pouring themselves cups of coffee.

  “Well, good work,” Cavendish said. “You caught a few. However, I doubt they’re the main bunch.”

  “They sure ain’t,” Carl answered. “One of ’em admitted as much. This was their first attempt. I reckon since the others have been doin’ so well, these three figured they’d give it a try.”

  “And it looks like their first try will be their last,” Cavendish answered.

  “Let’s hope so,” Gavin muttered.

  “Marshal, it’s been a long day,” Carl said. “Soon as Sean gets back, we’re gonna put up the horses, then head on over to the hotel, and let the lieutenant know what’s happened. After that, we’ll get some shut-eye. We’ll come back in the mornin’ to file our reports, and sign the warrants.”

  “That’s fine with me,” Cavendish said. “G’wan, get on outta here. I’ll send your other man along, soon as he gets back. See you tomorrow.”

  ****

  Despite their initial success, the Rangers next spent a frustrating twelve days in their attempts to hunt down the robbers plaguing the Fort Worth, Abilene, and Denver. It was as if the outlaws had dropped out of sight. Only one attempt at a holdup was made during that time, on a local which had no Rangers assigned to it. The train crew managed to drive off the robbers, with no injuries to anyone on board, and no damage, except for some shattered windows and bullet-splintered wood.

  Jeb kept changing the men assigned to the trains, as well as their roles, so they would not become too familiar to the other riders. Nate, Hoot, Carl, Austin, and Eddy were on a return run from Fort Worth to Abilene. Their route would take them across the rugged Palo Pinto Mountains, then through the canyons and draws of the Caprock escarpment.

  Nate had been given the job of fireman, stoking the engine’s firebox with wood from the tender.

  “How ya doin’ there, Nate?” Joe Doaks, the engineer asked, when Nate stopped for a minute to wipe the sweat dripping from his brow. “We’ve still got a ways to go through this canyon, then we’re facin’ a long upgrade. Ol’ Number 27 here’ll be eatin’ a lot of wood.”

  “I’ve never ached so much, or been so hot and dirty, in my life,” Nate answered. “But I’ll manage.” He grabbed another chunk of wood from the tender and threw it into the firebox’s maw. He grunted with the effort. Instead of his usual cowhand’s clothes, he was dressed in a trainman’s outfit, blue-striped work shirt, denims, a blue striped, billed cap, and a soggy red bandana knotted around his neck, an
other hanging from his back pocket as a handkerchief. His six-gun was tucked behind the waistband of his pants, hidden behind his shirt and snugged against his belly. He was soaked with sweat, and filthy from the cinders and ash spouting from the locomotive’s smokestack, coating his clothing and flesh. He sighed, took the handkerchief from his pocket to blow a stream of black, cinder flecked mucus from his nose, and grabbed another chunk of wood, unaware of the drama taking place in the coaches behind him.

  Hoot and Austin were in the first of the two passenger cars, facing each other and playing a game of poker. Carl and Eddy were in the car behind that. Eddy, as always, couldn’t seem to keep still for more than two minutes. He was fidgeting in his seat, getting up and down, pacing the aisle, and constantly checking his gun or fiddling with his hat.

  Carl had taken a seat next to a pretty brunette. They had struck up a conversation. He’d discovered her name was Annette, and she was unmarried. Visions of romance danced in his head. Now, lulled by the rocking of the train and the clickety-clack of the wheels on the rails, they had both dozed off, Carl with his head against the window, Annette leaning against his shoulder.

  Four men rose from their seats, pulled their bandanas over their faces, and yanked out their guns.

  “No one make a move, and nobody’ll get hurt,” the apparent leader ordered. “In case any of you haven’t figured it out, we’re holdin’ up this here train.”

  One of the robbers was right behind Eddy, who started for his gun. The man clubbed him over the back of his head with the barrel of his pistol. Eddy grunted, sagged to the floor, tried to push himself up, then collapsed to his face, blood streaming from a cut on his scalp.

  Carl had jerked awake, and also tried to grab for his gun. One of the robbers put the barrel of his six-gun to the side of Annette’s head.