Slocum in Shot Creek

by Jake Logan

  “You keep your mouth shut,” Slocum said to Sammy. He turned back to Tommy. “We need to be on alert from now on,” he said. “There’s no way to know when he’ll strike. It could be now, or it could be after the trial.”

  “I’ve been on alert all the time,” Tommy said.

  “Yeah,” said Slocum. “I guess you have been. Stay alert, but don’t be too fast with that shotgun.”

  “You want me to wait for your permission before I shoot?”

  For the first time, Slocum noticed the tone of Tommy’s voice. He detected the resentment in it. He wondered what it was that was eating at Tommy. Finally he decided it was just the situation they were in. Tommy was not used to this kind of pressure. He decided to let it go.

  “No,” he said. “Use your judgmènt. I’m sure that you’ll be fine. Why don’t you take off and get some breakfast. Then get some sleep. I’ll watch things here.”

  Tommy got up and walked out of the office, carrying his shotgun. Slocum glanced out the window and saw that he was headed for the eatery. Then he went to the coffeepot on the stove and poured himself a cup. He took a sip and wrinkled his face. It was not nearly as good as the coffee that Terri Sue made at the eatery. It was coffee, though, and it would do. He sat down in a chair away from the desk.

  “Hey, Marshal,” said one of the four Bartlet men in jail, “when you going to let us out of here?”

  “You’re going to have a trial tomorrow morning,” Slocum said.

  “You got to be kidding,” said the cowhand. “We done a public service.”

  “That’s your view of the situation.”

  Another of the four cowhands stepped up to the cell door.

  “We were on your side,” he said, “but don’t expect it again. When Oates and his boys come riding into town and acting like Quantrill and his men at Lawrence, don’t expect no help from Bartlet.”

  “I don’t need Bartlet,” Slocum said. “Why don’t you boys just shut up?”

  “You better shut up,” said Hyde, in the next cell. “If you don’t, he’ll throw a bucket of water on you.”

  “Slocum,” said the first cowhand, “I’m going to ask you one more time. Are you going to drop those charges against us and let us out of here?”

  “You’ve already heard my last word on that subject. I got no more to say.”

  “Shit,” said the Bartlet man.

  Over in the eatery, Tommy Howard was seated at a table, drinking coffee and waiting for his breakfast order. Terri Sue had served the coffee and taken the order. Tommy, his shotgun laying across the tabletop, sipped at the coffee and stared at Terri Sue. He had to have her. Who the hell did Slocum think he was anyway? The King of Shot Creek? He’d only been in town a short time. He was lording it over everyone, including Tommy. He had his room paid for as well as all his meals and drinks. And he had a good paycheck coming to him. On top of all that, he was getting Terri Sue. Just then she came toward Tommy, carrying a coffeepot.

  “You need a refill?” she asked.

  Her voice was sweet and lovely, but to Tommy it was also deceiving. She was not sweet. She was sleeping with the town marshal. He had seen her go to his room with him and stay the rest of the night. She was a slut.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Thanks.”

  She poured his cup full and then said, “Your breakfast will be ready real soon now.”

  “Thanks.”

  Terri Sue walked away, and he watched her hips sway as she went. He tried to picture them undressed. He tried to picture Terri Sue totally undraped, tried to see her naked, tried to picture her breasts and nipples, her small waist. He tried to imagine himself on top of her, between her legs. He tried to feel what he would feel if his rod were sliding into her twat. She came back with his breakfast and put it on the table in front of him. He watched her hands.

  “Anything else right now?” she said.

  “No. I-I guess not.”

  “Just holler if you want anything, Tommy,” she said.

  He thought about her hands. They were lovely hands, but he knew where they had been. Just last night and this morning, they had been fondling Slocum’s cock. He knew that. He could see them in his mind’s eye, wrapped around the engorged tool. Goddamn her. Goddamn Slocum.

  16

  Tommy finished his breakfast, but he drank more coffee. He did not want to take himself away from the company of Terri Sue, even though in his mind he kept cursing her. He cursed Slocum worse, though. Slocum had turned her the way she was. Goddamn Slocum. Tommy tried to consider his options. He could stay with Slocum and see this job through. That was what he had signed on to do. If Slocum did what he claimed he would do, he would ride away when the job was finished. Maybe Tommy would get the job. Town Marshal Tom Howard. It sounded good.

  But then, maybe they wouldn’t give him the job. What then? What would he do? He wondered if it would be worth his while to hang with Slocum. Take a chance on getting himself killed only to wind up with no job? That didn’t make any sense at all. He had to think up something better than that. What were his options if he should leave Slocum to fight his own fight? There were two other sides: Bartlet and Oates. Both of them had lost men—might be needing more.

  He could quit Slocum and hire on with one of the two big ranchers. But which one? He thought about them. Oates might hold it against him that he had held a shotgun on him and his men that first day they rode in. He had gotten along better with Bartlet. He’d had two Bartlet men in the jailhouse with him for a few days. Bartlet might be his better choice. Bartlet.

  But then, he wasn’t so sure he should quit Slocum, not just yet. He did have some advantages as a deputy marshal. He was carrying that shotgun from the marshal’s office, and it sure did make a difference when he faced gunhands. And he had been bossing cowboys around some. If he were to hire on as an ordinary cowboy, someone would be bossing him around. The way things were now, Slocum was the only boss he had. He liked that. He would like it even better if he were the boss.

  He decided that he would stick with Slocum, but he would secretly be looking out for himself. But he wasn’t sure how to do that. Start playing up to Church and Fall and any other councilmen he could locate to ensure that he would be named marshal when Slocum left? He wasn’t much meant for ass-kissing. The idea did not appeal to him. His thoughts were interrupted when Terri Sue came back to his table again with the coffeepot.

  “More coffee, Tommy?” she asked.

  “Huh? Oh, yeah. Thank you, Terri Sue.”

  She poured his cup full once again, smiled at him, and walked away. Her smile hurt him. It was so pleasant, so sweet, but it hid the real Terri Sue, the slut who was sleeping with Slocum. The—No. He did not like calling her names. It was Slocum. He was the bastard. He was the one who needed cursing. He picked up his cup and took a tentative sip of the hot black liquid. It burnt his tongue. He put the cup back down and resumed his previous line of thought.

  He had decided to stick with Slocum but to look out for his own interests, and he was trying to figure out just how to do that. He had already determined that his best bet, if he were to line himself up with one of the warring factions, would be Bartlet. He decided that while he had a little time left, he would ride out and see Bartlet. That’s what he would do.

  He got up from the table, leaving the hot coffee, and he paid for his meal on the way out. Hurrying to the stable, he got his horse saddled up, mounted, and headed for the Bartlet ranch. All the way out to the ranch, he tried to think about what he would say to Bartlet. When he finally arrived, he still wasn’t sure what words he would use. He rode right up to Bartlet’s front porch and dismounted. Bartlet had heard the approaching horse, and he came out on the porch.

  “Well, hello, Tommy,” he said. “What brings you out here? Has anything happened?”

  “Oh, no, sir,” said Tommy. “At least not yet.”

  There were chairs on the porch, and Bartlet invited Tommy up to take a seat. Tommy mounted the steps to the porch and sat down. Bar
tlet sat where he could face Tommy.

  “Mr. Bartlet,” said Tommy, “I came out to talk to you.”

  “All right,” said Bartlet. “What about?”

  “Well it’s about that Sam Hyde, of course, and about Oates.”

  “What about them? There’s to be a trial in the morning, isn’t there?”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s still on. That is, it’s still on unless Oates and his boys do something to stop it.”

  “They tried that once before,” said Bartlet, “and as I recall, you stopped them.”

  “Yeah. That’s right.” Tommy smiled broadly. “With my shotgun.”

  “You think they’ll try again after that?”

  “I’m afraid they might. Of course, they’ll do it different this time. They won’t just ride up in front, open like, the way they did before. But they’ll try something. I’m about sure of it.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “I can’t tell you that, sir, but I’m sure. Well, I’m pretty sure.”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “I can’t do nothing. Slocum won’t believe me. That’s why I came out to see you.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did. Do you have some plan? What should we do?”

  “I don’t rightly know, Mr. Bartlet. What seems to make sense don’t seem to be right. At least, it sure ain’t legal.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Slocum leaves me to guard the jailhouse at night. If you and some of your boys was to come around tonight to get Hyde out of jail, I reckon I could be looking the other way.”

  Bartlet stood up and walked to the far end of the porch. He stood for a moment, turned, and walked back. He looked at Tommy.

  “If we were to do that, what would we do with Hyde after we broke him out? Hang him? Shoot him? Deliver him to the courtroom in the morning?”

  “I don’t know about that. If you, or someone, was to break Sammy out of jail, I wouldn’t know nothing about it after that.”

  “Hmm.” Bartlet muttered and rubbed his chin.

  “I know what’ll happen though if Oates gets him out. He’ll go free.”

  “Yeah. Yeah. That’s right.”

  “I better be getting back to town now,” Tommy said. “Maybe I’ll see you later tonight.”

  Tommy stepped down off the porch and mounted his horse. He turned to ride out to the road, but he looked over his shoulder and saw Bartlet go back into the house. He paused. Then he looked toward the corral and saw a couple of Bartlet hands messing around there. He turned his horse and rode to the corral.

  “Howdy, boys,” he said.

  “Howdy, Tommy,” said one of the hands. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Aw, I came out to see your boss. Told him that I think Oates is planning to make a move tonight. I think Mr. Bartlet means to beat him to the punch. Only thing is, I think he means to hold Hyde till time for the trial and then take him in to the courtroom. You know, even if he’s found guilty, Oates won’t let him hang. He’ll bust him out first. But I don’t think he’ll be found guilty. I think Oates has paid off Church.”

  “Church? The mayor?”

  “Yeah. He’s going to be acting judge. See you, boys.”

  Tommy turned his horse and rode away, leaving the two cowhands scratching their heads. They watched Tommy until he was well out of earshot.

  “What do you think, Red?” said one.

  “Well, Melvin,” said Red, “I don’t think the boss will go too far with this.”

  “You think maybe we had ought to do it for him?”

  “You know, I reckon maybe we ought to do just that.”

  Tommy rode back to town and went straight to the jail. Leaving his horse tied in front, he went inside. Slocum was sitting in a chair beside the desk.

  “You get fed and rested up?” he said.

  “Sure did,” said Tommy.

  “Then I’ll do the same thing,” said Slocum, standing up and heading for the front door.

  “Take your time, Marshal,” said Tommy. “I’ll be okay here.”

  Slocum went outside and shut the door behind him. Tommy moved around the big desk and took his favorite seat. He placed the cherished shotgun on the desk.

  “Hey, Tommy,” said Sam Hyde. “How about some coffee?”

  “All right,” Tommy said, getting up again. “How about you boys?” he said to the Bartlet hands in the next-door cell.

  “Sure,” they said.

  “Why not?”

  Tommy poured them each a cup of his swill and delivered it into their hands. Hyde took a swig, made a face, and said, “Ugh.”

  Tommy said, “Hey, that’s the best coffee you’ll ever have again.”

  “Wiseguy,” said Hyde. He took another sip and wrinkled his face. “Tastes like shit,” he said.

  Over at the eatery, Slocum was having a good cup of coffee, prepared by Terri Sue. She had no other customers for the moment, so she sat with him at the table.

  “I guess you’ll be leaving after the trial tomorrow,” she said.

  “No,” he said. “If they find Hyde guilty, which I’m sure they will, I’ll have to stick around till the hanging’s done.”

  “How long will that be?” she said.

  “I don’t know, but it’ll be pretty quick.”

  “Well,” she said, “we’ll have to try to take advantage of what time we have left.”

  “Right now?” he said.

  “I wouldn’t mind,” she said, “except I have to keep this place open yet.”

  “I guess I’ll just have to be patient,” Slocum said.

  “Can you stand it?”

  “I think so.”

  “Slocum?” she said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you expecting any trouble before morning?”

  “That’s hard to say,” he said. “Oates might try something. Then again, he might wait till after the trial. The only thing for sure is that Oates ain’t going to let us hang Sammy Hyde without some kind of a fight.”

  “I hope you’ll be careful. I’d hate for anything to happen to you.”

  “Don’t worry,” Slocum said. “As long as Tommy’s got that shotgun, I’ll be all right.”

  “He carried it in here with him to breakfast this morning,” she said. “Laid it on the table in front of him like he was expecting some kind of trouble.”

  “He’s in love with that shotgun,” Slocum said. “I just hope it don’t turn on him.”

  “Oh, he’ll be all right. Won’t he?”

  Back in the jail, Tommy looked at the Bartlet cowhands in the cell. He looked at Sammy Hyde. He thought about what he had said to Bartlet and to the two Bartlet hands. In a few hours, he imagined, someone would arrive at the jail with the intention of breaking all of the prisoners out. They would probably turn their companions loose first. Then all of the Bartlet cowboys together would unlock Hyde’s cell. Probably Sammy would cower in a corner and beg Tommy to protect him. But the others would drag him out of the cell anyhow, because Tommy would simply go out the back door.

  He would go out the back door and—but wait a minute. What would he tell Slocum? He couldn’t just go out the back door, could he? He was supposed to watch Hyde carefully all night long. Maybe he could say he had to take a piss. Yeah. That would be it. Even Slocum couldn’t hold that against him. Okay. So he would say that he had to take a piss and went out just for a couple of minutes. When he came back in, the cells were empty. He could say that he had no idea who did it.

  It could have been Bartlet, in which case they would probably find Hyde’s body hanging from a tree branch somewhere. On the other hand, it could have been Oates, he could say. Oates would have turned Hyde loose and maybe killed the Bartlet riders after taking them out of town.

  He would tell Slocum that they could have a talk with both Oates and Bartlet, but that it probably wouldn’t do any good. Likely they would just have to wait around and see if any body or bodies turned up. If it was Hyd
e’s, then the guilty ones would be Bartlet hands. If it was the Bartlet cowboys, then it would be Oates’s men. Tommy had it all figured out.

  17

  Bartlet thought very carefully over what Tommy had told him. It made sense. Still, Bartlet hesitated to ride into Shot Creek and take on the law. It just didn’t set right with him. He stepped out onto his porch and looked around. The only cowhands he could see were Red and Melvin over at the corral. He yelled at them to come over. In another minute, they were at the porch. Bartlet invited them up to sit with him. He sat quiet, and Red and Melvin looked at one another, wondering what their boss wanted with them. At last he spoke.

  “Boys,” he said, “we’ve got a problem.”

  “Well, tell us what to do to help, boss,” said Red.

  “We’ll do it,” said Melvin. “Whatever it is.”

  Bartlet told the two cowhands what Tommy had told him. Then he told them his feelings about riding into town. Red and Melvin looked at one another again.

  “Mr. Bartlet,” said Red, “we’ll take care of—”

  “I don’t want to know anything about it,” Bartlet said, interrupting. “We never even had this conversation.”

  “Uh, yeah, boss,” said Red. “Well, we better get back to work, hadn’t we, Melvin?”

  “Yeah. Back to work.”

  Bartlet stood up and went back into the house without another word. The cowboys stood up and looked again at one another.

  “When we going, Red?” Melvin asked.

  Tommy was sitting in the jail behind the big desk worrying. He had already set the events into motion, but then, he asked himself, where was the advantage to him? He had been too hasty. His jealousy, near hatred, for Slocum had blinded him. Suppose Bartlet or his boys did come in and break everyone out of jail. That would certainly get things going, but who would come out ahead? It could be anyone: Bartlet, Oates, Tommy, or Slocum.

  He thought about getting word to Oates that Bartlet had plans. That would just about set the war off. He thought hard, nearly hurting his head. Thinking was not one of his best things. He was still trying to figure out where his best advantage lay. Tommy wanted promotion. He wanted Slocum’s job with Slocum’s benefits. And the more he thought about it, the less he could see any advantage coming to him from the range war. The trick was how to make himself out to be a hero. He would have to figure that one out, and fast. Time was getting short.