Ace High (Ben Blue Book 3)

by Lou Bradshaw

  We knew the surviving members of the Slack - Ralls gang, and we knew the Bagley riders we had conscripted into working the cattle drive. So we were on constant lookout for those faces. We saw none of them. If there were any of them around, they were holed up somewhere probably in an abandon shack or house somewhere close to town.

  I talked that possibility over with Marshal McCollum, and he agreed that it was probably the case. But there were dozens such places and most of them were filled up about as quick as they were emptied by railroad men, drifters, and saddle tramps. The town was growing so fast that it wasn’t possible to keep track of who was coming and who was leaving.

  On the afternoon before the hanging, we decided to stay close to the hotel for the evening. There wasn’t any reason to go out. The town was packed with folks coming in for the hanging. There were whole families camping on the outskirts of town, the tent hotel was full up and the saloons were three deep at the bars. But if Slack and Bagley were planning a move, it would be tonight because there’d be no reason for us to stay after noon tomorrow… Funny thing, I’d almost forgotten about the hanging. Now, how’d I let something that important slip my mind?

  I’d been so busy looking out for my own hide, everything else became secondary. Ben was coming out the hotel dining room, with a cup of coffee in his hand, when he stopped dead still to the point of sloshing some coffee on the floor. “Damnation!” he exploded. “It’s misdirection!”

  Startled, I came to my feet and had my hand on butt of my Colt, and I was looking in all directions at once. “What… what misdirection?” I asked with my eyes still searching everywhere.

  “Jasper Stewart, when he was US Marshal in Ft. Smith, kept preaching to Andy and me about misdirection. That’s when you do something one way to make the other fella think you’re gonna do something that you ain’t.” Ben explained. “Like one time, I was carrying my rifle in my left hand and the other fella thought I was a lefty, so I drew and shot him with my right hand…. He was watching the wrong one.”

  “Slack and Bagley are keepin’ us on edge worrying about our own hides, when they got something else in mind. I believe they’re gonna try the jail…. I don’t know why they would go to that much trouble for Ralls, but I’m sure that’s what’s goin’ to happen.”

  “What could Ralls have that would be so important to them?” I asked.

  “I just don’t know, but I’m sure, we’re just the bait… Tell you what we do. I’m gonna saunter over to the jail like I was just visitin’. Tater, about fifteen minutes later, you go out the back way and circle around to the back door of the jail. But for God’s sake keep your eyes open. I don’t know if those boys are gunnin’ for you, but don’t take any chances. Go fully armed… pistol, rifle… and a slingshot if you want to.”

  “Where do you want me?” I asked.

  “Give Tater a good half hour and come on across, real easy like. Sorta like you were looking for me.”

  I figured if they were trying to bust the jail, then it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have some concentrated fire power in there. And if they weren’t pulling a misdirection, and just wanted our scalps… well it wouldn’t be my first overnight in a jail.

  Chapter 20

  I waltzed across that street and up the boardwalk just like I hadn’t a care in the world, but the middle of my back felt like it was one big knotted ball of nerves. With each step I expected to feel the impact of the bullet that would kill me. But it never came, and I was all mighty glad to close that big thick wooden door behind me.

  Ben and Tate were already there as I expected, and Ben had already told the marshal what he thought. The marshal took the threat seriously and was happy to have our help. Mack McCollum was, if nothing else, a cautious man. There was nothing frivolous in the way he ran his office.

  The jail was of adobe construction and well made. It had two windows and a door facing the street, and the windows had heavy wooden shutters with gun ports. The back had a heavy wooden door with a gun port. The sides had only the high barred windows in the cells. The roof was board planks supported by heavy beams. It would take a lot to crack it, but it wasn’t impossible.

  There were four small cells, each capable of holding two prisoners. The marshal, being a considerate man, had put the four prisoners each in his own cell for comfort and a little privacy. But that was no longer convenient. We needed two of those windows, so the prisoners were all moved to the largest cell and a man with a rifle took over the windows.

  I asked if there was access to the roof, and one of the deputies showed me a trap door in the ceiling. The cells were two to a side separated by a gangway in the middle. The trap door was above that gangway. Standing on the jailer’s table, I was able to open the door and look out onto the roof. Just as I’d hoped, there was a rampart around the entire roof. It was only about sixteen or eighteen inches high, but it would offer some cover if we put a man on the roof, which was an idea that I would push for… even if it was me up there.

  I mentioned it to the marshal, and he assigned one of his three deputies to go up and keep a lookout. He wasn’t up there for more than ten minutes when he came to the opening to let us know that there was movement in the saddle shop’s stable. The saddle shop was next to the jail on the left if you were looking from the street.

  “Clancy doesn’t keep a horse there.” McCollum said. “He only lives two blocks away and walks to the shop…. Mostly just keeps supplies and trade in stuff that he’s gonna fix up, out there.”

  He went back to the cell block to tell the deputy to keep an eye on it. Looking up from the gangway at the deputy, he said, “Damn, man, get that hat off your head! They see that thing pokin’ up over the edge and you’ll get a bullet between your eyes. Better yet, come on down, and I’ll go up.”

  The deputy sheepishly let himself down on the table, and the marshal started to climb up. Ben stopped him with, “Marshal, I think you’d be better served down here, in case some citizen needs your services. It’d look funny if you had to come down from the roof to talk to them.”

  I started to volunteer, when Tate jumped up on the table and through the trap door like a squirrel going up an oak tree. Once up there, he tossed his hat down and I handed him his rifle. “Keep your head down boy.” Ben said. “And each time you peek over that cover, you move either right or left. Go up slow and come down slow. Sudden movement attracts attention.”

  Tate came to the opening about a half an hour later and told us that it was Earl Fletch, one of Bagley’s hands, in the, shed and he was getting his nest ready for a siege. He was moving boxes and such around. “Looks like he’s payin’ a lot of attention to the back door….I reckon he’s there to keep anyone from getting’ out.”

  “Max, what do you say if we so a little misdirection business our own selves?”

  “I’m game,” I said, “what have you got cooking up under that red thatch?”

  “Well, sir, if you and me was to walk on down to the eatin’ house, and get some supper, we could probably kinda slither up on that boy in the shed and take him out of this business.”

  It sounded like a plan I could get interested in, so I said, “Let’s do it.”

  We just sauntered down the street like we didn’t have a care in the world. It was the best acting job I’d ever done, and I had a feeling that Ben was putting a show as well. It was coming on to sundown, and lamps were being lit in the shops and store windows. Our spurs jingled on the board walk, and with each step I cursed myself for ever buying those big California spurs.

  We found a table out of sight of the front window, so that whoever was watching us, and we were sure that somebody was, would have to come inside to see if we were still there. Eating a good meal with plenty of strong black coffee always made some of my doubts and dreads go away, and it did help.

  When we’d finished our meal, Ben called the waitress over and asked if there was a back way out of the café. She told us that we could go out through the kitchen. Ben told her that when the
y took the prisoners’ dinners down to the jail, to fix up five big sandwiches for the guards. She had curious expression on her face, but Ben told her to keep it hush hush, and that he’d explain in the morning.

  I paid for our suppers and took off my spurs as did Ben, and we handed them to her. I told her, “I’ll pick these up in the morning and follow it up with a nice tip…. If I don’t, then you keep em and put em in with your dowry… that’ll fetch them fellas coming round. She laughed and said her husband might not like her getting a dowry together.

  Out through the back door we went. From where we were, we were less than a hundred yards from the stable, but we couldn’t see it due to several outbuildings between us and it. According to the deputy and Tate there didn’t seem to be any more of them hid out in any of the other buildings, but we didn’t take any chances.

  We moved out away from the café, until we were a good fifty yards out. The stable was in full view from there. To say the stable was in full view was a stretch. The bulk of it was just a black mass standing out against other black masses. Except our black mass had a cigarette’s glow in what would be the side window.

  We moved on slowly and quietly. Coming up to the stable from the rear, I went to the right and Ben to the left. When I got near the open door, I said in a hoarse whisper, “Fletch… Fletch… you in there? Bagley needs you for somethin’… I’ll take over here.”

  There was some rustling around inside with a little bit of cussing and grumbling. When he appeared at the door and turned to face me in the dark, I could see him squinting to make out my face.

  “Who the hell are…” was all he got out before Ben crushed Earl’s beat up old hat with piece of cord wood he’d picked up along the way. He fell against me, and I kept him from hitting the ground. I held him up and Ben turned him around and draped him over his shoulder. I picked up Fletch’s rifle and we headed for the back door of the jail.

  I tapped on the door and said Max Bell and Ben Blue… The little gun port opened, and I could hear the bar being removed, and then the door opened. We went in and Ben dumped Earl into an empty cell rather unceremoniously. I took a fire bucket and just as unceremoniously dumped the full contents on his stubbled face. There was a good deal of choking, gagging, and coughing, which was followed with some groaning and some really vile words… but we’d all heard em before, except maybe that young deputy.

  Poor Earl Fletch, he was having a bad evening, and it was about to get a good deal worse. Ben bent over him while the man tried to focus his eyes. When he was finally able to see what he was looking at, the first thing he saw was a scowling Ben Blue, who immediately grabbed him by the shirt front and almost effortlessly lifted him off the cot, slammed him against the adobe wall, and gave the man’s aching head another reason to hurt.

  “Do you remember what I told you boys about staying out of my way? Well, I meant it then and I still do.” With that, he shoved Fletch out into the gangway. Grabbing him by the back of his vest and shirt collar, Ben drug him out through the cell block door and dumped him in a heap against the far wall. He was fully awake by that time, and he was in mortal fear.

  By this time Marshal McCollum was becoming used to Ben’s ways and was well aware that he’d not seriously hurt anyone without cause. But he also sensed that Ben was a little unorthodox when it came to messing with someone’s fears and imagination.

  “What do you think we ought to do with this feller, Marshal?” Ben asked.

  “Well, Marshal,” McCollum replied, “since these are Federal prisoners, and you’re carrying the Federal badge, I’d say this was your show.”

  Ben rubbed his chin and thought for a half minute and said. “I’m goin’ to have a little chat with Mr. Fletch here, and see if I can get some answers… Bell, you take this here shotgun and stand in that walkway between the cells. If any of them try to warn those boys outside, I’d like for you to shoot him… If you don’t mind, please and thank you.”

  I took the weapon and a handful of shells and said, “Not at all, Marshal, it would be my pleasure… Oh, you know of course that when I shoot one of them it’ll probably do a lot of damage to all of them.”

  “Well, they’re gonna hang tomorrow anyway… probably disappoint a lot of folks, but it can’t be helped… If my friend, Fletch here doesn’t give me some answers, then he’s going in that cell with them… if he’s smart, he’ll get behind someone when one of them starts yellin’.”

  The whole time Ben was talking, Earl’s eyes were following every move he made. The look in those eyes, reminded me of a rabbit facing a coyote with no place to run.

  Ben turned to Fletch and helped him to his feet. Then he pulled a chair up for him and took one for himself. “Now Mister Fletch, tell me, why you fell in with your old wicked friends after I’d given you a chance to make a fresh start…. I distinctly remember tellin you fellas to head for Montana or somewhere like that…. What have you got to say for yourself?”

  From my post just inside the cell block door, I could see and hear everything that was said. Fletch sat there studying his hands resting on his knees. He was breathing heavily and I was afraid he was going to pass out. The man truly was in fear for his life.

  Ben gave him a few long seconds to answer, but Fletch just sat there shaking and staring. Finally, Ben reached over to take hold of the man’s shirt and he snapped back from wherever it was he had been. His head came up and his hands came up in a defensive move to protect his face. “Don’t… don’t kill me, please… please.”

  “That’s entirely up to you, Fletch… Now why didn’t you take off for the high country like I told you?”

  “I… couldn’t … Bagley wouldn’t let me… I mean… he come and got me… I mean he told me to. When he said he needed my help and all… I had to help him… you know how it is with kinfolk?”

  “So Bagley’s your kin… is that it?”

  “He’s sorta my kin, but Ralls is my most my kin… then Bagley.

  “Explain.”

  Fletch must have thought that the longer he talked, the longer he would live because once he started talking, he let it all out. It seems that Ralls was Bagley’s half brother, and a whole bunch of the clan came out from western Tennessee and eastern Arkansas after the war. Bagley was older and came out first, and then sent for his mother and Ralls, which started the family migration.

  “How does Slack fit in? Is he a relative too?” Ben asked.

  “Nossir, he ain’t no kin…. Him and Ferd…uh Sheriff Bagley was out here holdin’ up stages and stealin’ cows till they got enough money to start ranchin, That’s when Bagley sent for his ma and Ralls.”

  Ben turned to the young deputy and said, “Would you mind locking him up in one of the empty cells?” And the deputy ushered Fletch into the cellblock.

  “Mack,” Ben said to the marshal, “what are the chances of getting those four out of here and up to the county jail? Do you think it can be done with a buckboard or some kind of wagon?”

  McCollum thought for a minute and said, “I don’t see any reason we couldn’t. I’ll send one of the deputies over to the livery… He’s got an ambulance that he rents out as a hearse…. Frank, go down to the livery and get his ambulance and bring it to the back door. Don’t dally, and don’t let anyone see you.”

  “Well,” Ben said, “at least that explains why Bagley and Slack were so anxious to keep Ralls from hanging… family.”

  While we waited for the ambulance to arrive, Ben worked on Fletch some more. He learned that there were six others including Bagley and Slack. There wasn’t much of a plan, other than wait until the town got quiet. Then they would rush the place and smash in the door with a battering ram, and shoot everyone wearing a badge. Fletch was to sit in that stable and shoot anyone who tried to get out.

  “Why on earth did Bagley have you sittin in that stable hours ahead of time, if he was goin’ to wait till the middle of the night to hit the jail?” Ben asked.

  “Wellsir, he don’t like me much, an he kno
ws I like whiskey a little bit sometimes, so he put me in there to make sure I’d be there…. Guess it would a been okay if I fell to sleep… I’d a woked up when the shootin started.”

  The ambulance arrived, and the prisoners were loaded bound and gagged for the 3 block trip to the Sheriff’s office. McCollum said, “I’ll have to go along with the deputies to explain things to the sheriff. When we get them all comfy and cozy, I’ll come back. I don’t expect any trouble before one or two in the morning.”

  “I’d feel better if you stayed with the prisoners.” Ben said. “If they happen to get wind of the move, then you’ll need a full crew to hold them off…. If we hear shooting, we’ll come a running… Don’t worry about us. When we see them coming we’ll be out the back door in a hurry. They won’t find anyone here but Earl.”

  The ambulance pulled away with its miserable cargo. We settled in for the wait. Tate and I alternated on the roof, switching every hour. We watched the stores and shops close and put out their lights. We watched lights come on in the homes. Then we watched the lights on the ground floors go out and the upper stories went dark soon after. A small lamp was burning in the hotel lobby, otherwise only the saloons showed any light, and some of them had turned out their lights. Window by window the town grew darker.

  Chapter 21

  I was on the roof when the last light in the last saloon went out. I knew that it wouldn’t be long now. The bartenders and working girls were tired and wanted to get to sleep, the drunks would be looking for a place to sleep it off, and we were waiting…waiting to kill or die.

  I guess that’s the difference between those who follow the laws of civilization and those who chose to break those laws. John Q Citizen, for all his faults knows he can he can face serious consequences or death when he breaks those laws. Whereas those on the other side don’t see themselves as getting killed or caught.

  With only the light from a quarter moon, the stars, and a few low burning lamps in the hotels I had to use all my senses. The shadows were deep and dark, but it was dark where there were no shadows. With an almost black background, I was able to move about with no fear of being seen from below. So as long as I was careful with my footing I could have a good listen if not a view of what was happening on the ground below. I couldn’t see my watch, so I didn’t even pull it out of my vest pocket. I figured Tate would let me know when it was time to switch.