Bounty of Greed

by Paul Colt

  “He’s what?”

  “Marshal Widenmann didn’t much like it, either. He said he wanted to hear that firsthand from Marshal Sherman. That’s when the trouble started.”

  “Trouble?”

  “Yeah. That’s when Sheriff Brady or Marshal or whatever he is now, asked Marshal Widenmann to hand over his badge. He refused. Deputy Hindman showed up with a shotgun and they arrested him.”

  “Arrested him! On what charge?”

  “Brady said something about disobeyin’ an order. They took him to the stockade at Fort Stanton.”

  “And you think they might be after me?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. You ride with Marshal Widenmann, I just thought maybe.”

  What the hell is goin’ on?His mind raced. “Do you have a room for me?”

  The clerk nodded. He picked a key off the board behind the counter and turned the register around for Ty to sign in.

  Ty laid a dollar on the counter. “Mind if I don’t sign? I’d just as soon no one knows I’m here until I figure out what the hell is going on.”

  The clerk took the dollar. “I ain’t seen you in more than a week.”

  Fort Stanton

  Civilian visitor privileges weren’t standard issue in a military stockade. Fortunately, Ty’s friend, Colonel Dudley, arranged a pass with no questions asked. He followed the sergeant down a dark corridor between two rows of bare cells. The chill air smelled an odd mixture of disinfectant and urine.

  “You got a visitor, Widenmann.” He opened the cell door. “Call when you’re finished.”

  Widenmann sat on a bunk made up with a coarse wool blanket. “Ty, good to see you, I was afraid I might rot in here before anyone figured out where I was.”

  “What the hell are you doing in here, Rob?”

  “Good question. Somebody got to Marshal Sherman. Whoever it was persuaded or ordered him to appoint Brady a special deputy marshal. I’m guessin’ Dolan wanted me off the Tunstall investigation and that was the fastest way to do it.”

  “You think it was Dolan?”

  “He’s got influence in Santa Fe. Brady’s not smart enough to figure this out let alone get me locked up in here.”

  “Why lock you up here? What’s wrong with the jail in Lincoln?”

  “Smart really. I’m a civilian prisoner in military custody. The army is just holding me. Brady is the arresting federal officer. I’ve got no appeal, unless I can get to Sherman or a federal judge. Neither one is handy. I’d have more options in civilian custody.”

  “I can’t get you out of here the way you got us out of the lockup in Lincoln.”

  “Nope. That’s the point. What you can do is have McSween get to work on it. Maybe he can figure something out.”

  “I’ll go see him right away.”

  “Be careful. If you’d been with me they’d likely have locked you up too. Stay clear of Brady until we get this sorted out.”

  “I plan on it. Guard!”

  The sergeant major announced Ty.

  “Colonel Dudley will see you now.”

  Ty stepped into the office. He cocked his head toward the door. “May I?”

  Dudley nodded. The door clicked closed.

  “Have a seat, Ty. How did it go with Widenmann?”

  “What’s to say? They’ve got us in a box. We don’t have many options.”

  “I’m afraid you’re right. In fact that box is about to get deeper.”

  Ty wrinkled his brow. “What do you mean?”

  “Governor Axtell has requested army support for the civil authority in Lincoln.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’m sending a troop into Lincoln to support Sheriff Brady.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m afraid I am.”

  “Can’t you question that based on the situation?”

  “I could try, but my orders come down the War Department chain of command. They get it from the president, who authorized intervention at the governor’s request. So in the end, Governor Axtell is the controlling legal authority. All I can do is follow orders.”

  Lincoln

  McSween rubbed his chin between thumb and forefinger considering the facts as Ty described them. The desk lamp cast a long shadow against a bookcase lined with neat rows of leather-bound law books. An island of light floated across the desktop, painting both men in sober masks of light and shadow.

  “Rob probably has the right of it. This is some of Dolan’s work. He’s the only one around these parts with the kind of influence it’d take to force Sherman to reverse himself. Brady won’t drop the charges. The post commander’s hands are tied. Sherman could order him released, but whoever put him up to appointing Brady in the first place won’t sit still for that. Maybe we could persuade Sherman to order him transferred to Santa Fe. If we get him out of Lincoln, the political pressure should cool off and Sherman can find a way to release him.”

  “But what about Tunstall’s murder?”

  “Well, we still have you and all of Brewer’s duly sworn deputy marshals. You ought to be able to finish serving the rest of the warrants.”

  “Well, all those duly sworn deputies will only stay that way as long as Brady doesn’t catch up with them. He’s about to get some help in catching up with them from the army.”

  McSween rubbed the bridge of his nose. “All right, we need to get word to Dick. He and the boys need to lie low for a spell until we deal with the Santa Fe problem.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “I’m not sure. Chisum says his lawyer knows President Hayes. I need to talk with John. We need to get Evans or one of his boys to implicate Brady or Dolan or both.”

  “I don’t know, Alex. All of that strikes me as a long shot.”

  “Likely is. We both know Brady and Dolan had a hand in John’s murder, whether they were there or not. They may be long shots, but they’re the only ones I can come up with. You go along down to the Flying H and tell Dick what’s happened. I’m going to South Spring. We need help. It’s time for Chisum to get involved if he cares to win this thing. Come along, I’ll show you out.”

  McSween led the way through the darkened parlor by the dim light, spilling from the office door. He clasped Ty’s hand at the front door. “Make sure you know where to find Dick and the boys once we’ve sorted this out. I’ll see you at South Spring in a few days.”

  The door latched shut behind Ty.

  “You’re going to South Spring?” Susan stepped out of the shadows, ghostlike in a flowing nightdress.

  He nodded.

  “I’m going with you.”

  “What about the store and the bank?”

  “Lucy can take care of things here. Dolan has his problem with you. I’m your wife. Truthfully, I don’t feel safe here.”

  “Yes, my dear, I see your point.”

  By the time he left McSween, the hour had passed time for respectable calling. He paid it no mind. He had to see her before he left town. No telling how long he’d be gone this time. He couldn’t just disappear, not again, not now.

  He’d never been to the upper floor of the widow’s house. He had a vague sense of direction from hearing Lucy come down. The rest was guesswork helped some by a bright full moon, painting the scene a ghostly white. Lace curtains on the front bedroom window, plain cotton on the back. The back of the house overlooked open plain. She likely had the back bedroom. He tossed a pebble up to the window he hoped was Lucy’s. It clattered against the glass and bounced off the sill. Nothing. He tried again. Two pebbles this time. They made twice the clatter. Nothing. Hell, he might wake the dead before he woke whoever was in that room.Then again maybe he had it wrong and no one was in there. He bent to find stones for one more try. The back door creaked.

  “Ty, is that you?” Her voice was hushed.

  “Yeah.” He went to the back porch. The moon gave her an otherworldly glow an Indian might have taken for a night spirit. She motioned him into the darkened k
itchen. No man with red blood would mistake her for a night spirit when she melted in his arms. He found her lips, soft and liquid. He traced the smooth curve of her spine to the small of her back, her skin warm to his touch beneath a light night shift.

  “What a nice surprise.”

  Her breath tasted sweet in his mouth. She wriggled close and held him tight, the press of her hips saying more than words.

  “What brings you by?”

  “You.”

  She purred when she smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

  “I had to see you before I left town.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m on my way down to the Flying H to see Brewer. Brady’s arrested Rob. He’s got him locked up over to Fort Stanton.”

  “Brady? Stanton? What’s that all about?”

  “Dolan’s playin’ politics to get Rob off the Tunstall case. Mc-Sween figures he’s after me too. I need to get out of town and lie low for a spell.”

  “Oh.”

  He heard her disappointment. It gave him a warm feeling he held tight.

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “Hard to say. I’ll send word when I can.”

  “Damn, just when I was gettin’ used to havin’ you around again, cowboy.”

  “I don’t like it, either.”

  “Good.”

  She kissed him, soft and innocent, still plain with want.

  “Lucy, I’d like you to quit workin’ at the store.”

  “Why? Alex and Susan need me.”

  “Dolan is uppin’ the stakes in this game. I’m afraid shootin’ might start any time now. I don’t want you mixed up in the middle of that.”

  “I’ve been takin’ care of myself a long time now. I can handle it. Besides, like I told you before, a girl’s gotta eat.”

  “This is different.”

  “No, it ain’t. But you can make it different.”

  “I plan to.”

  A smile wrinkled her moon-frosted nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Ah, well, you know. We’ve known each other a while now and we keep . . .”

  “We?”

  “I keep, well maybe we should. Lucy, would you?”

  “Ty Ledger, are you askin’ me to marry you?”

  “I, ah, I guess I am.”

  “I thought you’d never get around to it, cowboy.”

  “Well?”

  “Well what?” Moonlight caught a misty liquid in her eye.

  “Will you?”

  She kissed him with a fire fair near to burst his britches buttons.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Flying H

  Ty pushed hard, making the ranch in a day and a half. He loped into the yard under a bright blue midday sky, drew rein at the corral and swung down. Fred Waite eased out of the barn holding a rifle he put up when he saw who it was.

  “Where’s Brewer?”

  He tossed his head. “In the house.”

  “Will you take care of my horse, Fred? He’s had a hard trip.”

  “Sure thing.” He set the Winchester beside the barn door and took the lathered horse’s lead.

  Ty set off for the house on a long stride. Early spring sun promised a warm afternoon. He took the porch steps in a clump as Brewer opened the front door. The Bonney kid hovered at his shoulder.

  “Ty, what brings you down here?”

  “A bit of trouble we need to discuss.”

  “Come in.” He stepped back. The Kid melted into a far corner of the room. Brewer crossed the cabin to a long wooden table. “Coffee?”

  Ty nodded. He pulled back a chair. Brewer poured two cups from a pot on the stove and took a place across from him. He passed a steaming cup of “been standing there”–strong coffee across the table.

  “Brady’s arrested Widenmann.”

  “On what charge?”

  “Obstruction. Brady ordered him off the Tunstall case. Rob refused.”

  “Brady can’t order a US marshal to do anything.”

  “He can now. Sherman appointed him special deputy. He’s got Rob locked up over at Fort Stanton. McSween doesn’t see an easy way to get him released. Somebody pressured Sherman to get Brady appointed. Sherman’s got no good reason to listen to McSween.”

  “Dolan.”

  “That’s how I figure it. There’s more. Governor Axtell has asked the army to assist civil authorities in maintaining law and order in Lincoln County.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means Brady will be coming after you boys with an army escort. This thing is comin’ to a head. McSween is on his way to South Spring to get Chisum’s help, for all the good that does. The truth is, we can’t stand up to the army. You and the boys need to clear out of here. Our only choice is to take to the hills until we figure out what to do next.”

  Brewer braced himself with a sip of coffee. “So, what about Tunstall’s killers?”

  “McSween says we’re all still duly sworn deputies. We can finish serving the warrants as long as we don’t get caught.”

  “What the hell is that going to accomplish?”

  “Maybe one of them will talk. Maybe somebody will implicate Brady or Dolan or both. It’s not much, but it’s the best we’ve got for now.”

  The Kid rested a hand on the butt of his gun. Like hell it is.

  Brewer pushed his chair back, having reached a decision. “We’ll clear out of here as soon as we pack our gear.”

  “I’ll ride down to South Spring to stay in touch with Mc-Sween and Chisum. Where can I find you boys if we need to?”

  “There’s an abandoned rock house in the hills across the Pecos from Roswell at Bottomless Lakes.”

  “I know it.”

  “We’ll scatter when we leave here so as not to leave much by way of a trail. We’ll drift up there by our separate ways. We should be there in a few days’ time.”

  South Spring

  McSween wheeled the buggy through the gate at a jog and nosed the bay mare up the road to the house. Susan rode silent beside him, suffering the effects of the journey. He bore a grim set to his jaw. He’d brooded over the situation on the long ride down from Lincoln. By every estimation he could conceive, the battle for Lincoln was about to be joined. Much would depend on his ability to persuade Chisum to see things his way. With Chisum’s help, Dolan must surely see himself overmatched. He drew lines at the house, set the brake and stepped down. He came around to offer Susan his hand down. She accepted it stiffly and followed him up the porch step. The Navajo girl answered his knock.

  “Is Mr. Chisum in?”

  She nodded and opened the door.

  “Who is it, Dawn?” Chisum called from the parlor.

  “Alex and Susan McSween,” she answered.

  Chisum’s shadowed frame filled the sun-washed arched parlor entry. “Alex, what brings you down here? And Susan, what a pleasant surprise.”

  She locked her eyes in his with a small smile that said more than simple greeting.

  “The situation in Lincoln has taken a turn for the worse. I hope you’ll excuse the intrusion. We need to talk.”

  Chisum broke away to the lawyer. “Of course. You sound ominous.”

  “I’m afraid I am.”

  “Come in.” He led the way to the parlor.

  A tall, impeccably tailored English gentleman rose to greet them. Despite his years he gave the appearance of having been forged out of steel from the crisp cut of his iron-gray hair and beard to the icy glint in his slate eyes. Even his suit appeared struck by a smith.

  “Alex, Susan, may I present Montegue Leverson. Montegue, this is Alex and his lovely wife, Susan McSween.”

  Leverson bowed stiffly.

  “I believe I mentioned Montegue to you, Alex. His law practice is in Colorado, but he finds time to represent me when matters warrant. Alex is a lawyer himself, Montegue. He’s the man I mentioned in regard to the troubles in Lincoln. Have a seat.”

  McSween took a seat
on the sofa facing the fireplace. Susan favored Chisum with a warm glance and took a seat beside her husband. Leverson and Chisum took seats flanking the hearth glow.

  “I’m afraid matters in Lincoln are coming to a head. It appears Santa Fe is taking a hand on Dolan’s behalf. Marshal Sherman appointed Brady a special deputy marshal.”

  “Brady. Why would he do that?”

  “It smells like Dolan’s friends in the Santa Fe Ring. Brady orderedWidenmann off theTunstall case. When Rob questioned the order, Brady arrested him. They’ve got him locked up in the stockade at Fort Stanton.”

  “Smart. No local jurisdiction to appeal to,” Leverson said.

  “There’s more. Governor Axtell has asked the army to support civil authorities in Lincoln.”

  “Brady,” Chisum said.

  “The governor visited Lincoln at Dolan’s request.”

  “So where does that leave us?”

  “We still have Deputy Ledger and Brewer’s men to serve the rest of the warrants as long as Brady and his army escort don’t catch up with them. Ty rode down to the Flying H to warn Dick. He’ll take the boys into hiding. Ty will be along to let us know where to find them.”

  Chisum rubbed his chin. “It looks like things is coming to a head.”

  “That’s why I’m here, John, We need help if we hope to win.”

  Chisum sat back, folding his hands in his lap. “I reckon we all knew it’d come to this sooner or later. You can count on me, Alex.”

  Flying H

  Captain Purington called a halt in the hills northeast of the ranch. Brady drew rein at his stirrup. A troop of black cavalry strung out behind them. Purington extended the glass from its pouch at the cantle of his McClellan saddle. He fitted the eyepiece and swept the ranch yard below.

  “Looks pretty quiet down there. How do you want to proceed, Sheriff?”

  “We need to search the place. We may be met with armed resistance. What do you suggest, Captain?”

  “With your permission, Sergeant Cahill and a detachment will accompany you to the ranch for your inspection. I will hold the balance of my command in reserve in the event of hostilities.”