Devil Rising

by R. B. Conroy

  “So what happened next?” Ed asked.

  “The City Council stepped in and fired Cook for influence pedaling. They closed Faraday down by using that same ordinance against gambling and prostitution. Faraday tried to fight it for awhile, but after several threats were made against his life, he and Cook finally decided that it would be in their best interest to leave Denver.”

  “So they picked our little boom town out here in the desert as their next project,” Ed said disgustedly.

  “Sure looks that way. And if they win two seats on the County Commission, they’ll almost have control of the whole county. They’ll need one more vote, so they’ll try and buy off one of the other commissioners. If he refuses, they’ll use Canady to threaten him or his family.

  One way or another they’ll get their damn vote. Then they’ll fire me and hire a new sheriff of their choosing, probably Cook or Web Norton. And before you know it, they’ll control everything round here. And then they’ll be trying to force Libby out of business so they can take over all the gambling and prostitution. Then they’ll move on to the next town and do the same thing. Soon they will control all the gaming in the entire area.” Jon frowned, shaking his head.

  “How do we stop them, Jon?” Ed asked.

  “Well, the election’s almost over. Faraday and Cook will probably be our two new county commissioners. And to tell you the truth, I’m not entirely sure what to do about it right this minute. But one thing’s for sure, Ed!”

  “What’s that Boss?”

  “It’s going take more than those two snakes to take this town over!” Smoke rose as Jon angrily snuffed his cigar out it the small metal ashtray.

  Ed just shook his head in disgust.

  “Watch the prisoner Ed, I’m going down and talk to Camp Wilson about filling in for Jack for awhile. With all that’s coming down around here, we’re going to need another gun. Camp’s helped me out a few times before. He’s good with a gun and a tough little hombre. I think he’ll jump at the chance.”

  Jon quickly cleared his desk, took his gun belt off the peg, pulled the belt tight, and tied down. “I’m going to stop at the school first and check on the election. See you in a few,” Jon said as he headed out the door.

  Babe was prancing nervously in front of the jail as Jon approached. He quickly untied, mounted up and headed for the little one room school on the edge of town. The big lawman reined to a stop in front of the makeshift polling place. His fast approach startled some of the voters.

  “Sorry folks, didn’t mean to startle you,” Jon said with a smile.

  “No problem Sheriff,” an older man replied. “What can we do for you, Jon?”

  “Oh I was just kind of curious about how the vote was coming along. You got any feel for it, Jeb?”

  The old man looked up at Jon. “Most of the folks I’ve talked to are voting for those British fellas; they’re right popular around here you know. I’d say they’re the ones to beat.”

  “Yea, I’ll bet they are, thanks for the info,” Jon replied. He tipped his hat to the folks and rode to the stables to talk with Camp. He was out front talking to a customer as Jon approached. He looked lean and muscular in his blue denim shirt, jeans and buck-stitched chaps. The youngster shook hands with the departing customer and turned to greet big Jon.

  Camp smiled at his friend. “Howdy Jon! What brings you down to this end of town? You droppin’ Babe off?”

  “No Camp, we got us more serious problems right now,” Jon replied.

  Camp’s eyes narrowed as he looked over at Jon. “Oh yea, what’s up?”

  “It looks like our friends from Great Britain, Mr. Faraday and Mr. Cook, are turning out to be a couple a bad actors. Seems they got a habit of trying to take over all the gambling and prostitution in whatever town they ride into. They did their darndest to take over everything in Denver, but the locals got wind of it and ran them out of town. They’re trying to get elected to the County Commission here so they can throw me out of office and put their own man in. Doesn’t look good Partner.”

  “Hmmm! That’s kind of surprising. I don’t know em, but everybody says they’re right decent fellas,” Camp replied.

  “Yea, those two are smoother than silk. I kind of like them myself.”

  Camp nodded as he replied. “Sorry Jon, but I’m kind of running behind; what can I do for you?”

  “Okay, I’ll get to the point. Malone’s down and we’re kind of short handed right now. I need a good deputy real bad.” Jon looked with anticipation at his young friend.

  “Hmmm...a deputy, huh?” Camp’s hand rubbed the stubble on his chin. “We’re kind of busy right now, but I’m sure the owner, Pat, could fill in if necessary.”

  “Is that a yes? I haven’t got all night.”

  “I know, I know! Pat’s out at the McLennan ranch shoein’ some horses. I’ll talk to him soon as he gets back. If it’s okay with him, I’ll finish things up here and be down.”

  “Sounds good, Camp! I want to pay Faraday a visit this evening and I’d like for you to go with me.”

  “Okay, Sheriff.” Camp nodded and smiled as he hurried back to the stables.

  Jon rode back toward town. Almost at full gallop, he came to a sudden stop in front of the Barbee; dismounted and walked hurriedly into the saloon.

  “Give me a shot of Early Times Sam,” Jon ordered.

  “Comin’ up, Jon,” Sam replied. “You’re kind of in a hurry big guy, something comin’ down?”

  “Yea there is, Sam, I’ll tell you about it later,” Jon said hastily. “Is Libby around?”

  “Who wants to know?” Libby’s mouth curled into a smile as she shouted across the room at her big lover. “What’s up?”

  Jon downed his shot, slid a silver dollar across the bar to Sam. He walked over to where Libby was standing near the faro tables. Taking her gently by the wrist, he led her over to a table around the corner from the door. They both sat down.

  “Tom Baldwin asked me to look into Alex Faraday’s past a little bit; so I wired my sheriff friend in Denver. Looks like he and Cook had concocted a scheme to take over all the saloons in Denver, but before they could do their dirty deed, they got thrown out of town. So they packed up and headed our way. I think they want to do the same thing here,” Jon said.

  “Hmm, doesn’t really surprise me; something just didn’t feel right about those two,” Libby replied.

  “I’m going to deputize Camp and then we’re going to ride out to Faraday’s tonight and have a heart to heart talk.”

  “Please be careful Jon, these men could be dangerous,” Libby said softly as she placed her hand tenderly on Jon’s forearm.

  “At this point, I got no quarrel with Faraday and Cook. We just need to come to a little understanding before this thing gets out of hand.” Jon smiled warmly.

  “I understand, but just be careful anyway, alright?”

  “Alright pretty lady. I got to be going,” Jon stepped behind Libby’s chair. She pulled her beautiful red cotton gown up slightly and stood up, as Jon carefully slid the chair out of the way.

  “I’ll stop by later and fill you in,” Jon said.

  “See you then, handsome.” Libby winked at the embarrassed lawman as she turned to greet some miners.

  “By handsome!” “See ya cutie,” some of the patrons shouted at the red faced Jon as he hurried out of the saloon.

  “I sure wish she wouldn’t do that,” Jon whispered to Babe as he hopped aboard and hurried down Pecos Street to the jail.

  Chapter 6

  Jon set the steaming plate of sausage and beans on the small wooden shelf next to Zing Fuller’s bunk. Fuller lay still on his bed until Jon left and pulled the heavy riveted steel door shut and turned the key. Zing took the hot plate of food off the shelf and sat it on his lap. “Bout time!” he mumbled.

  “What did you say?” Jon shot back.

  “Uh, I said thanks.” Fuller’s thin lips cracked into a smart grin.

  “Don’t thank me, Fuller
, thank the cook at the Barbee. He’s the one does all the cooking.”

  Suddenly the front door swung open.

  “Still need that deputy?” Camp Wilson said as he hurried in the room.

  “Sure do, Camp,” Jon replied, smiling at his young friend. “I thought you might show up, Pat owes me a favor or two.”

  “He told me to take all the time I needed, so let’s get at it,” the anxious recruit replied.

  “Okay Camp, I need to swear you in.”

  Camp walked over to Jon’s desk and put his right hand on black leather Bible Jon kept on the corner of his desk for such occasions.

  “Just follow after me.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you Camp Wilson swear to uphold the laws of Mesquite County to the best of your abilities?”

  “I do.”

  “And do you Camp Wilson swear to stay sober and not use foul or profane language when acting as a deputy of said county?”

  “I do,” Camp replied as Jon pinned the metal badge on the pocket of his blue denim shirt.

  “Heck, if he can do all that, he oughta be sheriff,” Deputy Ed Morgan chimed in as he walked out of the supply room.

  “Now there you go again!” Jon laughed. “Just pipe down Ed and look after the jail while Camp and I pay Faraday a visit.”

  “Will do Sheriff,” Ed said as he winked at Camp.

  Jon and Camp hurried outside, mounted up, and headed west out of town toward the Faraday mansion, an hour’s ride away.

  The desert landscape was showing its stuff as the two riders galloped down the winding trail. The globe mallow, desert lilies, mariposa, and the awesome saguaro cactus were in full bloom on this cool winter day. The delicate beauty of this desert scene was in sharp contrast to the violence that would soon befall this isolated mining town.

  Suddenly, a solitary rider flew past. Jon reined to a stop. Babe reared up a little as the rider charged on, head down and chaps flapping in the wind.

  “What’s that all about, Jon?” Camp shouted as he pulled up next to Jon.

  “Looks like Web Norton, one of Faraday’s boys. He’s probably going into town to meet the stage and check on election results. Might be Butch Canady’s greeting party.”

  “I’ve heard Canady is one nasty varmint,” Camp replied.

  “Yea he is, we don’t need people like him around here.” Jon’s eyes narrowed as he spoke of the nasty gunman. He could feel the darkness growing inside of him.

  “I’ve never met these hombres, what can you tell me about em Jon?” Camp asked as they rode on toward the ranch.

  “Well, Alex Faraday is an educated and cultured man. He’s kinda tall and lean and he has a thin face and a small wisp of a mustache. He’s got black shiny hair and it’s always combed and parted on the left. He looks rich and always dresses to the nines. He likes silk shirts and fancy vests.

  “How about Cook?”

  “Cook’s his right hand man. He was a bare knuckles boxer back in England and held the light heavy weight championship of Great Britain for awhile. He’s a big guy and looks like he weighs two hundred plus. These two are like fire and ice, but they make a nice team. Faraday’s smart and comes up with their crooked schemes. Cook’s pretty handy with a gun and makes a great enforcer for Faraday.”

  “You think they’ll be out here?”

  I hope so. My guess is they’re holed up at Faraday’s enclave waiting for the results of the election. Local custom discourages candidates from being in town during the vote, except when casting their own ballot. They voted in the morning and then rode back out here. They’ll be surprised to see us, I guarantee you that.”

  “Is that the mansion up ahead there?” Camp asked.

  “Sure enough is.”

  “Quite a place.”

  The two lawmen rode slowly toward the front of Faraday’s sprawling estate.

  “I just saw somebody looking out one of the back windows, they probably know we’re here,” Jon surmised as he dismounted and tied down. Jon walked up to the double oak door on the front of the mansion and slammed the gold knocker a couple of times. He could hear someone hurrying toward the door. Suddenly, the door swung open as Clive Cook stepped out.

  “Sheriff Stoudenmire, what a nice surprise! And you also, Mr. ....? “

  “Camp Wilson,” he replied.

  The big Brit nodded at Camp. “Welcome Mr. Wilson, I take it you gentlemen are here to see Alex?”

  “If you don’t mind, Clive,” Jon replied.

  “Well certainly. Mr. Faraday is in his study. Come right in.” Cook stepped back and waved his arm toward the study at the end of the long entryway.

  “Thank you kindly,” Jon replied as he and Camp walked toward the study.

  They looked around at the plush leather chairs and large oil paintings of kings and queens that decorated the beautiful oak hallway. Jon pointed up at a huge antler chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceiling; he smiled as Camp craned to see the large edifice.

  The three men reached the end of the hallway; Jon stepped aside as Cook moved forward and grabbed the large knocker on the den door. He pounded it several times, announcing their arrival. The door swung open almost immediately.

  “Why hello, Sheriff, what a surprise! Please come in,” the ever-gracious Faraday exclaimed, motioning with his thin hand for the men to enter.

  “Sit down, gentlemen, please sit down,” he said politely as they approached his desk.

  “Thank you Alex,” Jon replied as he and Camp sat down in front of Faraday’s large cherry wood desk.

  “And to what do I owe this pleasure?” Faraday asked as he eased into his leather chair.

  “Oh we were just out riding and thought we’d stop in and say hello,” Jon replied. He glanced over at Camp who was trying mightily to keep from laughing.

  “Well I know better than that Mr. Stoudenmire, and I’m a very busy man, so...”

  Jon interrupted the uppity Brit. “You’re right Alex, you are a busy man. With the election about over and a guest coming and all, I’m sure you have plenty to do,” Jon said as he looked directly at Faraday.

  “Guest? I don’t know what you mean Sheriff.”

  “Let’s not play games here Alex. The sheriff in Tombstone wired me just today and told me that Butch Canady had spent the night there and was on his way to Logan’s Crossing to work for an old friend. That friend is you Alex and it concerns me very much. Butch Canady only knows how to do one thing and that’s kill people. I’m just wonderin’ why you hired a man like that to come here to Logan’s Crossing.”

  The muscular Cook, standing to the right of Jon, moved closer as Faraday spoke up.

  Faraday’s eyes narrowed. “That’s none of your affair, Sir. So I would suggest that you mind your own business.” Alex appeared confident with his enforcer, Cook, nearby to protect him.

  “Now you listen to me, Faraday. When somebody brings a hired gun into Mesquite County, that’s definitely my business.”

  Cook moved even closer to Jon; he was now standing just a foot away. The tension in the room was thick as Camp sat up in his chair, hand on his peacemaker.

  “Tell Cook to back off, Alex,” Jon said calmly.

  “I don’t believe that would be proper, Sir. I think the proper thing would be for you and your young friend to leave immediately.” The stuffy Brit thought nobody could match his powerful friend.

  “Tell him to back off Mr. Faraday, the sheriff is starting to get mad and you don’t want to see that!” Camp warned.

  “Oh my, I’m sure that Clive is just shaking in his boots, young fellow. The man’s a famous prizefighter for God’s sake. Now if you boys would...”

  “Let’s go!” Clive Cook shouted as he slapped his large hand on Jon’s shoulder signaling him to get up and get out.

  “Take your hand off me!” Jon said as he started to slowly get up from his chair.

  “I’m not playing around with you Stoudenmire!” Cook’s right hand went toward his six gun.


  Jon’s hand folded into a fist. He quickly turned and blasted the big Brit with a mighty blow to the gut.

  “Ughhh!” The big man’s eyes almost popped out of his head from the force of Jon’s powerful punch. Jon had Cook back on his heels, writhing in pain and gasping for breath. He quickly raised his right arm high above his head and with a violent downward motion he slammed his right elbow into the huge man’s rib cage.

  “Ahggg!” Cook shouted as he fell hard to the floor holding his side and his stomach. Jon looked hard at a shocked Faraday; his eyes were wide as he watched his huge enforcer roll around in pain on his expensive rug.

  Jon shouted at him. “I know what you’re up to around here Faraday. Let this be a warning to you and your hired guns. If you try to move in on this town, you’re gonna have to go through me!” Jon exclaimed. Faraday was speechless.

  “Don’t forget what I told you!” Jon said sternly as he and Camp backed out of the den and into the hall.

  The Brit nodded nervously as he continued to look down at the battered Cook.

  The two lawmen turned and walked through the beautiful hallway, spurs jingling, and out the front door. They yanked the leather straps loose, mounted up, and rode rapidly toward town. As they rode along the dusty trail, Jon felt himself becoming very angry at the developing showdown. The arrogance of the wealthy Brit in the face of the law infuriated Jon. His anger was rising; the darkness was starting to come, darkness that would be the precursor to another orgy of violence. Violence propelled from the very soul of this tormented lawman. The beating of Clive Cook just whetted his appetite; there was a devil rising up once again in Jon, out in the dirt and heat of the desert.

  Chapter 7

  The polls had just closed as Jon and Camp came thundering into town. They reached the front of the jail and dismounted. They hurried up the wooden steps and went inside.

  “Any news Ed?” Jon asked his trusted deputy.