Lawdog: The Life and Times of Hayden Tilden

by J. Lee Butts

  A week to the day after Missy left town, Handsome Harry pulled up a chair beside me in the U.S. marshal’s outer office. “Hayden, I just heard that Saginaw Bob and his most recent gang of disciples robbed a bank in Texarkana yesterday.”

  “Yesterday? Who told you?”

  “Got a telegraph message from local law down there. He said Bob managed to murder a bank teller, and two blundering gobs of spit with him trampled a child to death as they fled the scene of the crime.”

  “No one tried to stop them?”

  “Posse of farmers and storekeepers chased ’em into the Choctaw Nation. They gave it up when Bob and his bunch ambushed them over near the Kiamichi Mountains and killed an Arkansas deputy sheriff.”

  “Good Lord, Harry. Three more dead?”

  “There’ll a lot more than three by the time we’re able to put a stop to the Preacher. That slippery, ground-huggin’ snake’s been around a long time. I suspect he’ll kill again before we can do anything.”

  I jumped out of my chair and jerked the office door open. “Not if I can stop ’im.”

  Judge Parker gave me a fistful of John Does. Billy and I were on the trail the next day. We took a tumbleweed wagon and a jailer named Ellis McPherson with us. I pushed ’em hard and managed to get to the Jacks Fork River in little over a week. We poked around in every crevice and ravine we could find. Even spent three days on Pine Mountain—nothing out there, absolutely nothing.

  When the weather started to go bad, Ellis said, “We best lay up at the first stock station we can find. This here stuff is gonna get a lot worse before it clears up.”

  Two days later we pulled up in a rotten hole in the ground that had a sign over the stockman’s shed that read, ANTLERS—HOME OF THE BIGGUNS.

  Ellis stopped the wagon. “I wanna get out of this stuff, but I gotta tell you boys that I don’t care for the look of this place at all.” He had a good point.

  “Looks a lot like Kingfisher Creek, don’t it, Hayden?” Billy laughed, but I could tell it wasn’t really a joke. “Even so, we need to get our animals sheltered and get inside ourselves. This stuff is changing to ice fast. My butt’s gonna be froze to my saddle pretty soon.”

  “He’s right, Hayden.” Ellis broke ice off his hat brim. “I don’t mind the cold so much myself, but these horses gotta get out of it and right soon.”

  Billy and I followed the wagon as it rolled up to the largest of the so-called houses. Several smaller shacks and sheds surrounded it. We rode past all of them and stopped just outside the door with the sign over it. As Ellis tied the reins to his hand break, a volley of gunshots exploded from the windows and doors.

  Billy and I jumped off our horses. Pulled rifles and shotguns as we went down. Landed behind the water trough. The horses pulling the tumbleweed bolted. Then, a second volley splattered mud, ice, and wood splinters all around us.

  We lay on our backs looking at our toes. Billy grinned and punched me with his elbow. “Can you believe we were less than twenty feet away, and they just burned up almost a dozen rounds and didn’t even hit us, a horse, or the wagon?” He rolled over on his side and yelled, “Ellis, you alive?”

  “Yeah, I’m alive. I’m under the porch. So don’t shoot me when you start blastin’ these dumb clod kickers. But hurry up and do somethin’. They’s big ole dogs under here. The sons-a-bitches ain’t real friendly. They’s a blue tick hound next to me has the biggest teeth I done ever seen on a dog!”

  Billy chuckled. “Hayden, if we had a stick of dynamite you could pull that Morgan Bryce trick again. We’d jus’ blow ’em outta there.”

  “Billy, I can’t believe they fired on a party of marshals. They have to know who we are. Everyone in the Nations recognizes these wagons.”

  “Well, ole hoss, it’s mighty obvious you ain’t been at this long enough. I’ve had people shoot at me when I’ve been in the company of fifty deputies.” Another round of gunfire sent ice balls flying all around us.

  “Sweet Jesus, Billy. We can’t just lay here forever.”

  “Nope. You’re right about that. ’Course, these boys might just be drunk on some kinda homemade skullbuster and don’t have any idea what they’re doin’. But we’re not gonna find out layin’ here on our backs.”

  He jumped to his feet with one of those sawed-offs in each hand. I almost passed out. “Billy, what the—?” He took three steps toward the porch and fired one barrel from each of the guns at the front door. Buckshot ripped it to shreds. The other two barrels opened the windows on either side of the splintered entry.

  Tall and thin like he was, nobody would believe he could’ve pulled such a stunt. I didn’t believe it, and I saw it. The discarded shotguns bounced off the frozen ground as he leaped to the right side of the open doorway with a pistol in each hand.

  He motioned me around the corner of the rough plank building. “You cesspool-dwellin’ pieces of human dung had better come outside with your hands in the air, right now. If I have to come in there, I intend to kill everything living.”

  “That’s it, Billy. Talk to ’em. I thought they’d done killed me. I want ’em all dead,” Ellis yelled from under the porch. “If you leave any of ’em alive, bring ’em out here, and I’ll beat their worthless asses to death with one of these dogs.”

  Rounded the corner of the back wall in time to find the legs and behind of a big-bellied fat boy danglin’ from the only window. He’d jammed that ample gut in so tight he couldn’t get loose.

  Ran back to the front. Ellis sat in a rockin’ chair on the porch. “Billy’s inside,” he said. Dirt covered him head to foot, and pieces of straw stuck out of his shirt and breeches. He pulled makings from his vest pocket and started rolling a smoke.

  Stepped over the shattered door. A dead man leaked blood underneath it. Looked like he’d been peeping through one of the cracks when Billy blasted it.

  “Hayden, come over here and help me get this big stupid jackass out of the window.”

  Man hanging in the window had a bloody gash on top of his head, but didn’t appear much troubled by it. Billy wiped off his pistol with a bandanna and sighted down the barrel to make sure the monstrous tub of gut’s skull hadn’t bent it.

  Fat man rubbed his head with the back of his bloody hand. “Damn you, you badge-totin’ bastard, that hurt!”

  “Yeah, well, it’da hurt a lot worse if’n I’d shot you with it.” Billy looked at me and grinned. “Grab that arm and let’s see if we can get his considerable carcass outta this crack he’s done got stuck in.”

  Well, we worked like field hands for almost ten minutes and didn’t have any luck till Ellis went ’round back and pushed while we pulled. That finally broke him loose. Ellis slapped him in shackles and made him sit out on the steps in the icy rain. Dragged his friend’s body outside and dropped it beside him.

  Ellis kicked the big man on the leg. “What was his name, Tubby?”

  “Smith. Gander Smith.”

  “And you? What’s your name?” Billy kicked him from behind.

  “Spenser Donahoue.” He stole glances at the corpse, but refused to give it a real good look.

  Billy grabbed the man by the ears and pulled his head around. “Look at your friend there, Spenser. He’s dead, dead, dead, and you’re one lucky sucker you dropped your pistol when you tried to climb out of that window or you’d be layin’ right there beside him.”

  Donahoue stared at the shot-riddled body of Gander Smith and started to blubber like a baby. Then he confessed to everything from original sin to the murder of President Lincoln. After about ten minutes of screaming and crying, he pissed himself.

  “Aw, Jesus.” Ellis jumped away from his captive. “Good Lord, man. Don’t you have any self ree-spect at all?”

  I got tired of all the bawling and whimpering and started to walk off. But just as I turned away, something caught my ear. “What’d you just say?” Grabbed the neck of his jacket and jerked him back onto the porch.

  He dropped to his knees and pleaded like
a man about to be executed. “I didn’t run over that little gal in Arkansas. Gander done that, and you kilt him deader’n Andy-by-God-Jackson. It warn’t me. I swear it. Gander done it! Gander wuz the one!”

  “Where’s Saginaw Bob Magruder?” Veins in my neck popped out like rope twisted for a noose.

  “What? Who? What’cha mean? I doan know no Saginaw Bob. I ain’t never he-erd of no Saginaw Bob.” It was almost pitiful to hear a grown man whimper that way.

  Several of the stockmen who lived in the surrounding cabins came out about then. They milled around the wagon and gaped at Gander Smith’s shot-peppered body.

  A tall feller who heard Donahoue yelled, “The fat dung slug is lyin’. That there Saginaw Bob was with ’em when they come. But he left early yesterday mornin’. We ’uns was happy to see him go. He kilt our foreman and head stockman ’thin ten minutes of arrivin’. He carried a big Bible with a pistol inside it. Man read the book at ’em when he shot ’em. Most evil thang I ever witnessed.”

  Whatever Donahoue saw when I turned back to him strangled off all the whimpering he had been doing. Stood in front of him with the Winchester at waist level and put the muzzle against his temple. Billy leaned against the wall right next to me, and later said he barely heard me speak.

  “You’ve got ten seconds, maggot. I want to know where Magruder went. If I don’t know by the time I say ten, there won’t be anything left of your head but the bone that holds it to your shoulders.” Levered a shell up and started counting. Got to eight, and Spenser Dona-houe—thief, murderer, rapist, and child killer—messed his sizable britches.

  Took my hat off and held it in front of my face to knock down the pile of brains I figured would splatter the porch. “Nine.”

  “He’s gone to Texas!” he screamed. “Snuck off on us. Left us here with nothin’. Took all the money and left us here. Gone to Texas, I swear it.” Tears rolled down his cheeks, and the smell from his pants spread.

  Lowered the muzzle and let it rest on his shoulder. “If I find out you’ve lied to me, you worthless pile of dog dung, I’ll decorate trees with your guts. If Judge Parker hasn’t hung you first.”

  Billy put his hand on my shoulder and pulled me away from the outlaw. “Always wondered what them dime novel writers meant when they said, ‘The man’s voice sounded like spit sizzlin’ on a hot stove.’ I know exactly what it sounds like now.”

  Jumped off the porch and started running toward Thunder. Billy ran behind me and screamed, “Where you goin’?” Come on, Hayden, where you goin’?”

  “You heard him. I have to go to Texas,” I yelled over my shoulder.

  He caught me, grabbed my arms, and twirled me around. “Listen to me, Hayden. We can’t go anywhere right now. Weather’s too bad. I’ve been out here longer than you, and I’m tellin’ you, we’ve got to hunker down here for a while. Ellis was dead-on right. This stuff’s gonna get a lot worse before it gets better. Anyone caught out in it just might die.”

  Tried to pull away from him. He held tight. “I’d watch your back if you wanted to carry that big ole Winchester right into Satan’s private vestibule, and you know it. But I can’t let you go out in this stuff. You’ll die, and Bob’ll get away. We’ll catch him someday, Hayden. I promise. Today just ain’t the day.”

  Reality settled in. Sagged against my saddle. He eased his grip. Icy rain fell like bullets. Thunder jerked and stamped at the discomfort. “You understand, don’t you, Billy? I can’t let that man live if there’s a chance I can send him where he belongs. But you’re right. Weather is probably going to get much worse. I can feel it. By the time it passes we’ll probably just have to go back to Fort Smith and wait for spring before we do any more wagon work. Thieves and killers are just like us. They’ll either have to go south or den up till the grass greens up again.” Grabbed the reins and led Thunder to one of the shelters beside the head stockman’s house. Felt awful because I’d missed Magruder again.

  We took over one of the smaller empty shacks and set ourselves up for a long stay. For the next three weeks, we played poker, talked, told lies, and tried to stay warm. Thought I knew weather, but Billy had been more accurate than I could’ve imagined. Freezing rain stuck to everything in sight. Ground got so slick it was almost impossible to go outside. Trip to the outhouse became a dreaded occurrence. Well water froze. Put rocks in the bucket and dropped it straight down but couldn’t manage to bust a hole in the stuff. Had to break hanging ice off the roof and cook it on the stove for drinking water. Couldn’t even think about taking a bath. Ellis got pretty ripe. ’Course, he didn’t bathe much to begin with. But, some of the dogs got to where they just loved the man.

  When it finally warmed up and everything thawed a bit, we dragged ourselves back to civilization. Arrived in Fort Smith with only Spenser Donahoue in custody. Felt bad enough about pulling Billy and Ellis along on that wild goose chase I paid them each fifty dollars out of my own pocket. It was the least I could do.

  During the cold frozen weeks until spring, my love for Elizabeth grew. When we weren’t together, I found myself thinking of her. Almost without fail, those thoughts would lead directly to memories of the time I spent with Missy Talbot. Tried to put her out of my mind, but didn’t have much luck at it. I was drawn to each of them for different reasons and sensed a profound guilt because of those feelings. My mother had taught me to love one woman above all others, and I’d begun to see how difficult such a thing could be. If Elizabeth knew about Missy, she never mentioned it.

  Eventually I began to think in terms of marriage and the possibility of a family. I’d never given much thought to such a thing in the past, but there it stood directly in front of me in all its blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty. Couldn’t bring myself to deny that I much preferred Elizabeth’s company to the barrenness of my room at the Pines. And, besides, Missy had made it abundantly clear before she left that our “friendship” would remain just that as far as she was concerned.

  Then, spring popped out on us. The dogwoods blossomed, and the job took me back to the Nations for weeks at a time. My thoughts of love and marriage had to be put on a back burner.

  During one of those raids, we captured another introducing rascal named Dunlap Wing. As I led him from the wagon to the courthouse, he started mouthing off to some of the other prisoners. “Well, you boys can talk big all you want, but none of you is anywhere near the man my friend Bob Magruder is. If’n you mess with Dunlap Wing, you mess with Saginaw Bob. Such actions could be deadly for the doer.”

  Grabbed that human blowfly by the collar and shoved him into a side room off the hall that led to the old cellblock. Slammed the door shut and pulled one of the new ivory-handled Colts Billy had found for me. “I don’t have time to talk this over, Wing. Tell me where you last saw Bob Magruder. If I don’t have that information in the next ten seconds, there’ll be a small item in tomorrow’s Fort Smith Elevator about how a petty whiskey runner named Dunlap Wing got himself shot six times while trying to escape from the custody of Marshal Hayden Tilden, hero of the Plains.” Cocked the pistol and pushed it into his right ear.

  “Christ on a crutch! You don’t have to get violent with me, Mr. Tilden. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” He shrank into a quivering heap on the floor. “Saw Bob in Dallas ’bout three or four weeks ’fore you caught me. That means ’bout a month or so ago, he was there. I swear it! That’s all I know!”

  “Where in Dallas? Where was he staying?”

  Wing struggled to his feet. “Bob likes them young whores, you know. They’s a pair of twins in particular he really likes in Dallas. Names is Hunter, Sally and Susan, I think. Anyways, they plies their trade at a house called Gertie’s over near the Trinity River. You go to Gertie’s, and you’ll be real close to Bob.”

  “You’d better be telling me the truth, Wing. If not, I’ll come back and see to it that you’re in misery up to your armpits.”

  “It’s all the truth. Honest to God. But I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell Ma
gruder that it wuz me what ratted him out. That’s just in case he kills you afterward, you understand. ’Cause if he found out about this little talk we done had here, my life wouldn’t be worth a pile of petrified prairie dog fritters.”

  Bix Conner passed just as I pulled Wing from our meeting. “Bix, would you move this man inside? Have something I need to take care of.”

  “Sure thing, Hayden.”

  Wrote Judge Parker a quick note, swung by the stable, saddled Thunder, and rented another horse. Stopped at Reed’s long enough to kiss Elizabeth good-bye, then rode as fast and as long as my body and two horses allowed.

  Ten days or so later, stepped off Thunder’s back and stood in front of the Empress Hotel. Missy Talbot, owner and operator, ran from the building—and jumped into my exhausted arms.

  8

  “MY VISIT TODAY DOESN’T REQUIRE YOU TO UNDRESS”

  SHE KISSED ME on the cheek and stepped away from the bed the next morning. “You know, Missy, guess I could just try to fool myself and say it’s because I’m still tired and hungry. Or maybe the memory can’t compare to the reality. But I do believe you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.”

  “Why, Marshal Tilden, you silver-tongued devil. You know exactly what a southern girl loves to hear, don’t you?” She smiled and disappeared from the room to return a few minutes later carrying our breakfast on a lacquered tray.

  She bathed me. Made me feel like the only man alive. Her attentions were such, that for brief moments during that first day, I almost forgot why that bone-jarring trip brought me to her.

  On my second night in her bed, I dreamed again of the horrors of Arkansas Post. The dream still came to me often. It always ended when I found what the Magruder gang left of my mother. At that point, I’d jerk myself back into consciousness and sit, shaking violently, on the edge of my bed. The nightmare seldom bothered me during my hunts in the Nations. But when I relaxed, the terror of that day always weaseled its way back into my thoughts.