This Violent Land

by William W. Johnstone

  “The ten people on the train were all trying to kill you?”

  Dawson got a confused look on his face. “What train? Deputy, I have to confess that I don’t know what this is all about. I’ve never killed anyone on a train.”

  Smoke leaned back against the bench seat and tried not to frown. He considered himself a pretty good judge of people.

  And it sure sounded to him like Clell Dawson was telling the truth.

  Breckenridge

  “Why didn’t you kill ’im?” Sheriff Hector asked.

  “I beg your pardon?” Clell replied.

  “When Jensen came to arrest you, why didn’t you kill ’im?”

  “You’ll excuse me for saying this, Sheriff, but isn’t that a rather strange question for you to ask?” Clell was in the jail and, at the moment, he and the sheriff were the only two men in the building.

  Hector glared at him through the bars on the door of the cell. “You do know what you’re facing, don’t you? You are going to be tried, found guilty, and hung. I would think that with all that hanging over your head, you wouldn’t have just let Jensen bring you in so easy.”

  “Yes, that’s something I wanted to talk to you about. Deputy Jensen said something about me killing people on a train.”

  “That’s right. You are being charged with dynamiting a stagecoach and killing five people, including a woman and child; holding a woman and child hostage, while you forced her husband, a banker, to take thirty thousand dollars from the bank to pay ransom; and finally dynamiting a train where ten people were killed, making the total fifteen people you murdered.”

  “I didn’t do any of that!” Clell insisted.

  Sheriff Hector chuckled and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “What do you mean, it doesn’t matter?”

  “That’s what you’re going to be charged with, the prosecutor is going to make the case, and the judge is going to sentence you to hang.”

  Clell didn’t like the sound of that. “How can you be so sure of that?”

  “Can I let you in on a little secret?” Hector knew he shouldn’t boast, but lording it over a famous gunman like Clell Dawson was just too tempting to resist, even if things hadn’t gone according to plan.

  “Please do, because none of this is making any sense to me.”

  “I know you didn’t do any of those things. Those jobs were pulled by Pete Kotter, Eddie Spence, and Merlin Mathis. I know exactly who did it because”—Hector paused, looked around, then smiled a broad, conspiratorial smile—“I set the jobs up for them.”

  Clell frowned. “You did?”

  “Yes.” Hector laughed. “Now, you tell me what can be a sweeter deal than that? I control the law, so I can control the people who are actually doing the killing, by protecting them from the law. They’re more than willing to share their take with me, and I don’t mind telling you, this has been a very good deal.”

  “Why are you telling me this, Sheriff?”

  “I’m telling you so that you know where you fit into things. Three other men, Potter, Stratton, and Richards, have come to me and asked me to do a job for them. A very big job.”

  Clell gave the sheriff his full attention. “And, somehow, I am supposed to fit into this job that they want done?”

  “That’s right.”

  “How?”

  “These three men want Jensen dead. I expected you to kill him, damn it, not let him arrest you.”

  Things were starting to make a little sense. “Ah. How do you know I’m good enough to kill him?”

  “I just assumed that you were, but you’re right. I should have taken that into consideration. That’s why I’ve come up with an alternate plan.”

  “And what would that plan be?”

  Sheriff Hector held up a finger as if telling Clell to wait for a moment, then he walked over to his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a pistol. “Here is the plan. I’ll find some reason to get Jensen in here so that there are only the two of you. You can use this gun to force him to open the cell for you. Then, once he does that, you kill him and be on your way. Oh, and to sweeten the pot, I’m leaving five hundred dollars for you in the center drawer of my desk. Meet me in Boreas in one week, and I’ll let you in on a deal that can mean even more money for you. A lot more money.”

  Clell frowned. “What if I don’t want any part of this?”

  “Think about it, Dawson. On the one hand you will be tried, found guilty, and sentenced to death by hanging. On the other hand, you’ll have your freedom, five hundred dollars, and the opportunity to make a lot more money.”

  “What if I choose to go to trial and testify about this offer you just made?”

  Sheriff Hector laughed. “So, you’re going to tell the judge that I’m behind all the robberies, and that I tried to pay you to kill a deputy United States marshal. How far do you think you’re going to get with that story?”

  Clell ran his hand through his hair and grimaced. “Not very far, I don’t imagine.”

  “You have only one way of coming out of this alive, Dawson. Now what will it be?”

  “I guess I’m going to have to take you up on your offer.”

  “Now you’re showing some intelligence.” Sheriff Hector opened up the desk drawer and held up a packet of money with a string tied around it. “There are fifty ten-dollar bills in this packet . . . and as I said, a lot more where that came from if you join me in Boreas next week.” He put the bills back in the drawer, then walked back over to the cell and passed a pistol through the bars. “And here is the gun you can use to make your escape.”

  Clell took the pistol. “Suppose I want to make my escape now?” He pointed the gun at the sheriff. “Open the door to this cell now, or I will shoot you.”

  “Go ahead, shoot,” Hector said with a smile.

  “The gun’s empty, isn’t it?”

  “Yep, it sure is.”

  “Let’s just see.” Clell pulled the trigger, and there was a metallic click as the hammer fell upon an empty chamber. “How am I supposed to kill Jensen with an empty pistol?”

  “You won’t kill him with an empty pistol. Once you bluff him into opening the cell, you’ll disarm him and kill him with his own gun. Won’t that be something?”

  “Yes, I see the irony in such an act.”

  Hector frowned. “The what?”

  “I agree. That will be something,” Clell said without trying to explain. “But let me ask you this. What makes you think I can bluff him into opening the cell? I wasn’t able to bluff you.”

  “Ah, but I knew the gun was empty, don’t you see? Jensen won’t know that. You’ll have the drop on him.”

  “I’ll have the drop on him,” Clell repeated.

  “Yes.” Hector nodded, happy Dawson was finally getting his plan.

  “That doesn’t matter. Even if the gun I was holding was loaded, it wouldn’t matter.”

  “What do you mean, it wouldn’t matter?”

  “Reaction time,” Clell explained.

  “Reaction time? What is that?”

  “Someone who is good with a gun—I mean very good—someone very good like Smoke Jensen can draw and shoot before someone like me . . . or you . . . holding a pistol on him could even pull the trigger. That’s because once you see him start his draw, you have to react to that and pull the trigger. And in the time you are thinking about—reacting to—his move, a fast gun like Jensen will have already drawn and fired.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, it wouldn’t matter whether the gun you’re holding is loaded or not, would it?”

  Clell chuckled and shook his head. “I guess you’ve got me on that one, Sheriff. No, it really doesn’t matter. All right, get Jensen in here. If I’m going to do this, I want to do it, and get it over with.”

  After Hector had hurried out of the jail, Clell stood in the cell looking down at the empty weapon in his hand. After a moment, he laughed.

  It was a grim sound.

  * * *


  Smoke was having a cup of coffee in Suzie’s Café when Sheriff Hector came in.

  “Hello, Sheriff. Join me in a cup of coffee?” Smoke asked.

  “Well, I will when you come back.”

  “When I come back from where?”

  “Dawson wants to talk to you. It’s something about three men who have hired some people to kill you. I don’t know what he’s talking about. I think he may be trying to come up with something that he can use in his trial. I mean, do you have any idea what he’s talking about?”

  “Three men, he said?”

  “Yeah. Does that mean anything to you?”

  “Yes, it does mean something,” Smoke said. “Would you excuse me, Sheriff? I reckon maybe I’d like to hear what he has to say.”

  “I’ll be right here when you get back,” Hector said. “Suzie? What kind of pie do you have left?”

  CHAPTER 29

  “Dawson, I understand you have something to tell me about the three men who are trying to kill me,” Smoke said when he stepped into the cell block a few minutes later.

  “Is that the ruse he used to get you over here?” Clell asked. “He told you I have something to tell you?”

  “Yes. What do you mean, ruse? Are you saying you don’t have anything to tell me?”

  “Oh, yeah, I’ve got something to tell you, all right. I’ve got the damnedest story you ever heard.”

  Smoke shook his head. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

  “No, I don’t imagine you do. But I’ll start out with this. I confess that I held up a stagecoach in Pueblo County several months ago. I didn’t get that much money out of it, and nobody was hurt.” Clell smiled. “The newspapers called me the Gentleman Bandit. I admit that was wrong, but I didn’t have anything to do with those robberies where the stagecoach and the train were dynamited. Sheriff Hector was behind those robberies. He told me as much. He set us up, Deputy. You and me. And now he is doing it again. The reason he wanted you to come see me is because he wanted me to kill you.”

  “How did he plan for you to do that?”

  “He gave me this gun to use,” Clell said, producing the gun but holding it by the barrel, butt first. “It’s not loaded.”

  Smoke frowned. “It would be kind of hard to kill me with an unloaded gun, wouldn’t it?”

  “Oh, well, I’m supposed to bluff you with it, make you open the cell door, then take your gun and use it to kill you.”

  “Did he really think you could do that?”

  “I don’t think it matters. Supposedly, if I could pull it off and kill you, that would be good. On the other hand, if you killed me, they would try you for murder, for shooting me in the cell. Either way, it would accomplish the same thing. You would be dead.”

  So far, what Dawson was saying made no sense to Smoke. “Do you have any idea why the sheriff wants me dead?”

  “Do the names Peters, Stratford, and Richards mean anything to you? They are the ones who want you dead.”

  “Do you mean Potter, Stratton and Richards?” Smoke asked quickly.

  “Yes, sorry, I just heard the names once, but that’s them. Apparently, those names mean something to you.”

  “Yeah, they mean a lot to me,” Smoke said. “I’ve been looking for them for a number of years. And I want them dead as much as they want me dead.”

  “Uh-huh.Well, they’re the ones who hired Hector to get it done.”

  Smoke smiled and shook his head slowly. “I have to hand it to you, Dawson, you said you were going to tell me the damnedest story, and I’d say that you just did.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “Not one word of it. Except the part about Potter, Stratton, and Richards. I know they’re trying to kill me.”

  “Look over there in the sheriff’s desk,” Clell said. “If you pull out the middle drawer, you’ll find five hundred dollars there. That is the money I’m to be given for killing you. I’m supposed to meet him in Boreas next week, to join him in some sort of deal that he claims will make me a lot more money.”

  Smoke walked over to the desk and opened the drawer. “I’ll be damned.” He reached in and picked up the packet of money.

  “Here’s the thing, Deputy. Suppose the bluff did work. Suppose I killed you, and took that money. There would be wanted posters out on me quicker than a wink. I’d be wanted for killing a deputy U.S. marshal. And if you don’t believe me now, who would believe me then?”

  “You have a point,” Smoke said. “But what convinces me is this money. What sheriff, making forty dollars a month, is going to have five hundred dollars of honest money lying around?”

  “So, where do we go from here?” Clell asked.

  “Your word alone isn’t going to be enough to convict a sheriff. We’re going to have to have something more, and the best way to come up with that, I think, would be to go to Boreas.”

  “You’ll let me have a loaded gun, won’t you?”

  “Sure, I don’t see why not,” Smoke replied with a chuckle.

  * * *

  Sheriff Hector returned to the jail a short time later to find that both his prisoner and Jensen were gone. The first thing he did was check the middle desk drawer. He was surprised to see that the money was still there.

  Leaving the jail, he rode out to a place called Hidden Canyon, which got its name from the fact that a pinnacle rock guarded the entrance to the canyon. Someone who just happened to be riding by wouldn’t even know it was there.

  Reaching the entrance to the canyon, he pulled his pistol, fired two shots, waited a couple seconds, then fired one more shot. A moment later, he heard the answer—one shot, a pause for a couple seconds, then two shots.

  Hector rode on down into the canyon toward a small cabin that was built against the back wall. Glancing over to the right, he saw someone behind a boulder covering him with a rifle. The man smiled at Hector as he stepped out from behind the boulder.

  “I thought that might be you,” Eddie Spence said.

  “Are Kotter and Mathis in the cabin?”

  “Yeah. You got a new job for the three of us?”

  “For the four of us,” Hector replied grimly.

  “Four of us?”

  “I’ll explain it all inside.”

  The one room cabin was furnished with three cots, a table, three chairs, and a wood-burning stove. The place smelled of bacon recently fried and the musky odor of men who bathed infrequently. A pot of coffee was on the stove, and Sheriff Hector accepted the offer of a cup.

  “What’s up?” Pete asked. “Do you have a new job for us?”

  Eddie jumped right in. “He said he’s going to pull the job with us.”

  Pete frowned. “You are? Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean, you bein’ the sheriff and all.”

  “Something has come up,” Hector said. “I’m not sure it’s going to be safe for me to stay around much longer. So after this job I plan to leave. I would advise you boys to do the same thing.”

  “Go where?” Merlin asked.

  Hector smiled. “Texas, California, Oregon. Hell, when this job is done, we’ll have enough money to go anywhere we want.”

  Merlin’s eyebrows shot up in wonder. “Really? How much money?”

  “Oh, I’d say about twenty-five thousand dollars apiece.”

  “Damn! Where are we gonna get that kind of money?” Eddie asked.

  “We’re going to hold up a gold shipment.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Boreas, Summit County

  Shortly after they arrived in town, Smoke and Clell learned that the Boreas mine would soon transfer some gold bullion to Denver. The amount being shipped was said to be worth one hundred thousand dollars.

  “That’s why you were to meet the sheriff here,” Smoke said. “If he really is behind those robberies, he isn’t going to let this shipment get away.”

  “Yeah, I think you’re right,” Clell said.

  “How much did you get?” Smoke asked.

&n
bsp; “What?”

  “You said you held up a stagecoach. How much did you get?”

  “Fifteen hundred dollars.”

  “Good, there’ll be enough to cover that.”

  “Deputy, I don’t have an idea in the world what you’re talking about. Enough to cover what?”

  “Just this,” Smoke replied. “I plan to set up a little surprise for Sheriff Hector and his cronies, and I’m asking you to join me. You don’t have to, of course, but there are some pretty big rewards out for the men who dynamited the coach and the train, and because I’m a lawman, I can’t collect any of it. That means all of it would go to you.”

  “Yeah!” Clell said. “Yeah, that’s right!”

  “You would probably get enough reward money to pay back that fifteen hundred dollars you stole.”

  “Jensen, you and I both know that paying that money back isn’t going to get me off the hook for that robbery.”

  “No, but if you help me bring in these people, and if you pay back the money you stole, Governor Elbert will grant you a pardon.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Smoke had a ready answer. “Marshal Holloway and the governor are good friends, and the marshal and I are good friends. I’ll talk to Holloway. I know we can get it done.”

  “All right,” Clell said, nodding his head. “All right. It’s about time I settled down anyway. I’ve got a good thing going with the saloon and Tommie Kay. I’ve been afraid to take it any further, but if I get this all put behind me, I could. You’ve got yourself a deputy, Deputy.”

  Smoke shook his head. “I can’t deputize you. If I do, you won’t be eligible for the reward. You’re just going to have to volunteer as a good citizen.”

  Clell smiled. “All right. As a good citizen, I hereby volunteer to help you bring to justice Sheriff Hector and his cohorts in crime. Where do we start?”

  “We start with the Boreas Gold Mining Company.”

  * * *

  “Deputy, I appreciate your offer to guard the gold.” Scott Matthews was the president of the BGMC. “But the amount of gold being shipped is valued at more than one hundred thousand dollars. I simply cannot allow you to use that money as bait.”