by Unknown
Finally, he saw Adam bellied up to the far end of the bar, having a beer with the friendly proprietor. Threading his way through the crowd, Matthew was finally able to reach him. He tapped him on his shoulder and said quietly, not wanting the other patrons to overhear what he had to tell him, "Adam, I need to talk to you . . . outside."
Adam's smile froze, then disintegrated when he saw the expression on his brother's face. Something in Matthew's voice and manner sent a wave of apprehension over him. "Trouble?" he asked, pushing the mug away from him.
"Yes, but let's discuss it over at the jail. It will be safer to talk there."
Adam cleared the way much faster than Matthew had, not by shoving or pushing, but merely by the manner in which he carried himself. He knew it was senseless to let his imagination run wild, but there was an uneasiness deep, down inside him.
"A man from the Bar 4 just rode in a while ago and told me there has been some trouble," Matthew said, when they reached the jail.
Icy fear twisted around Adam's heart. "Blair. . . ?
"No, it's Warren, he has a broken leg."
"A broken leg! How did it happen?"
"On his way home yesterday, someone took a shot at him and it spooked that high-spirited horse he's so proud of. Warren was caught off guard and when the horse bucked, his foot hung in the stirrup. He was dragged about half of a mile before he could get the horse to stop."
Adam thought about it for a moment. "That high-spirited horse could have saved his life, though. The man gunning for Warren might have thought he hit him."
"So that was the reason the ranch hand said they didn't want anybody to know what happened," Matthew said slowly. Then he shook his head with disgust. "You must think I'm awfully dumb at times. A schoolboy would have figured that out."
Adam shook his head and chuckled. "No, you're not dumb, just inexperienced, that's all. You should have been around when I first started out. Your mistakes pale in comparison to mine. So when I point out particular details you have overlooked, don't be disturbed by it. I'm doing it to teach you so you won't have to learn it the hard way." His expression sobered. "What else did the man say?"
"One of the hands was riding in last night to ask if we had heard anything about Coy, and he found Warren lying on the side of the road. He went back to the ranch for help after he made him as comfortable as possible. He said that Warren told him to tell you that he was in good hands but that he would be laid up for a few months, and there wasn't anything we could do because he didn't see who took a shot at him. Warren also said that since there was a shootist running loose, he wasn't going to risk a man's life by sending him in to ask about Coy every day, but if we heard something to let them know and they would do the same."
Resting his head against interlaced fingers, Adam leaned back in his chair to think about what had happened. Ultimately, he said in a low, composed voice, "It looks like someone is finally making a move on the bigger ranchers."
"You still think it's Tom Bastrop?"
"Yes."
"Why Tom Bastrop? Why not Radigan? He is the one man in town that we know who really has it in for Warren."
"I agree with you, Radigan is the most logical suspect. It really all depends upon the circumstances, but sometimes you shouldn't look for the most logical. I've found what helps me the most is playing my ‘what if game."
Matthew's eyes narrowed curiously. "I’m not sure that I follow you."
"What if Tom Bastrop purposely looked Warren up yesterday to try and talk him out of joining that land rush? What if he had a man planted out there by the road leading to the Bar 4?"
"Oh, I understand what you mean now."
"Warren said himself as long as he was riding shotgun over the Bar 4, he could probably keep everything under control out there." Leaning forward in his chair, Adam said in a controlled voice, "I guess now we will have to wait and see what happens. I have a gut feeling though, if Tom Bastrop is the man behind all of this land grabbing and rustling—or, even if he isn't —it will all probably come to a head before too much longer."
Matthew remembered Adam's statement several times during the next few days and wondered if his brother had been gifted with a second sight.
Adam's theory about the vigilantes proved to be right. A gang of men—twenty strong —began brazenly terrorizing the area. Five men were ruthlessly murdered, houses were burned, crops were destroyed, and cattle were wantonly slaughtered. But not a single witness was found who could shed a glimmer of light on the identity of those responsible.
Many of the families — even those who held land leases that were still binding for the next thirty years —whose farms had been burned and looted simply packed up and moved out, too afraid or their spirits too broken to stay and fight the marauders. When Adam learned they were selling their leases, he thought he would be about to obtain the evidence he needed, but much to his consternation, they were bought by different people-people he had never heard of, and no one else in the area had either.
There still was no word about Coy, and that made Adam feel even more apprehensive. He did not even want to think what it would do to Blair if her brother was guilty of those heinous crimes. He longed desperately to see her, to hold her for a mere five minutes in his arms, but he and Matthew were too busy for him to squander the time it would take to ride out to the ranch then back to town.
The animosity against the Townsends increased — even among some of Warren's loyal friends and business associates — when it was learned the Bar 4 had stopped suffering losses. Some townspeople began openly stating that the Townsends were probably behind all of the trouble, since they had remained practically unscathed. Feelings and opinions began running so strongly against them, that when four of the hands came in to town for supplies they were treated with open hostility. Adam sent a letter back by the men, to warn Warren how serious the situation was getting.
It was a couple of hours before dawn. Adam was going through the mail that had piled up on his desk, when suddenly, the door opened and the Bar 4 foreman walked inside.
"Rest easy," Jake said quickly. "I'm bringing good news."
Adam grinned. "That's good. I could use some for a change." He pointed to the coffee pot sitting at on the back of the stove. "Help yourself to a cup of coffee. It's so strong it'll probably eat the hairs off your chest from the inside out, but at least it is hot."
"Much obliged, I believe I will," he said, reaching for a thick crock mug and filling it all of the way to the brim. "I brought you a message. Warren said to tell you that the prodigal sheep has come home, but he clams up tighter than a nutshell when he's asked where he has been and what he has been doing. The only explanation he will give is that he claims to have had important business that had to be taken care of . . . and it couldn't wait."
Trying not to show his relief, he drew his lips in thoughtfully. "I was beginning to worry that maybe something had happened to him."
"We were too."
"And he refuses to say why he left or where he's been?" In spite of his relief, Adam was angry since Coy thought he could slip off the way he had then return days later without even giving an explanation. Everyone said that Warren had been too hard on his youngest brother, but it seemed to him that he should have taken the boy to the back of the woodshed a few more times. Perhaps it would have taught him to show more consideration toward other people's feelings.
"That's right," Jake said after draining his coffee mug and setting it on a small table close to the stove. "I don't know what's gotten into that boy here lately."
"Well, you tell Warren that I will come out within the next few days; I need to ask Coy a few questions. Maybe I can get something out of him."
"Maybe you can." Jake observed him curiously, as though something was puzzling him. "I'll be sure to pass the message on to Miss Townsend, too; that bit of news might help perk her up. Between worrying about Coy, and missing you, her face
has been as long as a country mile here lately."
"Tell her. . . ." Adam's face reddened, as he realized he could not send that particular message to Blair. "Just tell her the same thing you tell Warren."
"All right, consider it done." He glanced outside. "Guess I had better be heading back before it starts to get daylight. From what I've heard it's not too safe for a Bar 4 hand to be caught riding alone. Before I leave though, I have another message for you. When I rode in, one of Tom Bastrop's men stopped me and asked if I would tell you to meet him down at Proctor's woods. He also said something about shooting off a big toe. Anyway," Jake shrugged. "He said you would know what he meant."
Careful not to show any undue emotion, Adam merely nodded his thanks. So, Seth finally needed to make contact. Maybe he had at last been able to learn something that would be beneficial. Adam certainly hoped so; thus far he certainly had no results to show for weeks of hard work. At times, he felt as though his entire future depended upon solving this case.
Adam quickly awoke Matthew after Jake left and informed him of this new development, then he slipped outside. Although grateful that it was still dark outside, he decided against using the main streets as he made his way toward the woods.
Upon arriving, Adam ducked in amongst the huge trees and imitated the nocturnal sound of a nightingale. In a matter of seconds, he heard the reply and stepped out of his place of concealment.
Seth quickly joined him. "I can't chance staying too long and being missed. I can't swear in court about the others, but there was a farm burned out last night and Tom Bastrop gave the order to do it."
Grinning, Adam clenched his fist in a triumphant gesture. "That's what I've been wanting to hear!"
"There is another bit of information I think you'll enjoy hearing. Something else is about to happen. I don't know what it is, but Bastrop is very excited about it. About twenty of us rode in last night —one to two men at a time—in order not to draw any attention. I'll try to stick as close as I can to him, then, play it by ear. I'll go along with whatever you think is necessary though."
Elation blended with Adam's cautious nature. "All right, but you be careful!"
As soon as it became light outside, Adam, armed with his rifle, patrolled the main street. It was quiet and nothing seemed to be out of order, so he returned to the jail to wait.
It was about two hours later that a man burst into Adam's office, out of breath and highly excited.
"Deputy! You need to come over to the undertakers! There's been a killing and they're talking about a lynching!"
Adam and Matthew each grabbed a rifle and a double-barreled shotgun and hurried toward the angry mob that had gathered in front of the undertaker's parlor.
"You men break it up!" Adam shouted. Not getting any results, he fired his rifle into the air, which silenced the mob.
"What are you gonna do. Deputy ... let him get away with it?" an angry voice from the crowd asked.
Adam glared at the crowd. "I'll do whatever is necessary, but first I need to know what all this commotion is about."
"Men, let me handle this," Tom said, pushing his way through. "Deputy, there's been two killings . . . and it looks bad for Coy Townsend."
Knowing he had to keep the upper hand or the mob would gain control, Adam stated bluntly, "Unless there is an eyewitness to a crime, I'll have to be the judge on who it looks bad for. Now, who was killed and why are you all so eager to blame the Townsend boy? Did anyone see him do it?"
"No one saw Coy do anything," Tom said. "Radigan, and one of the men who beat that boy so badly were found murdered and partially scalped this morning. That by itself is enough to make many of these men suspect Coy. They're thinking Radigan paid those men to start the trouble that night of the dance. If so, that definitely puts Radigan in the wrong, but it doesn't justify murdering him. There was a piece of physical evidence found, too. There was a letter addressed to Coy found underneath Radigan's body."
"I say we all ride out to that ranch and get him, then find a tall tree and a short rope!" a man shouted, and the majority of the loud, grumbling voices agreed with him.
Adam fired the rifle to quieten them again. "There will be no talk of lynching! And if you men are foolish enough to ride out to the ranch as a mob, there will be a bloodbath if you try to take him by force . . . and you can take my word on it, Warren won't let him go without a fight. So how many of you men are ready to die today?" He looked at their suddenly thoughtful faces and muttered curtly, "That's about what I thought."
"What do you propose to do, Deputy?" Tom wanted to know.
"I’ll ride out to the ranch and bring him in myself. Warren and I don’t see eye to eye about everything, but considering that Coy is faced with a lynch mob or a fair trial, I’m sure he'll choose the fair trial."
"Yeah, we know how friendly you are with them! What's to keep you from letting him ride off?" someone shouted.
"This badge says I won't let him go!" Adam countered angrily.
Tom raised his hands. "Let's be reasonable about this! Deputy, under the circumstances, since I am an impartial party, why don't I ride out with you? I'm not a newcomer to these parts and these men trust me."
"All right," Adam said slowly. "But I think you people ought to realize something right now; you all know Warren Townsend. He's not going to sit by and let me bring in his kid brother without some kind of assurance that he will be safe. Don't be surprised if he and his men decide to come back with us just to insure Coy's safety. If they come —and I know they will because I would if I was faced with this sort of situation —I don't want any trouble. A double-barreled shotgun doesn't care who gets in its way. And I'll pull the triggers on any man who tries to interfere or start trouble. Matthew, you go to the jail and get it ready, turn loose those drunks you locked up last night."
Adam then looked at Tom, his face tense. "Let's go." When one of Tom's hired guns started walking with them, Adam stopped abruptly. "No, Tom, just the two of us."
Adam and Tom dismounted and tied their horses to the hitch rail in front of Warren's house. Warren, sitting out on the front porch with his leg propped on a pillow-covered stool, smiled and greeted them; then, when he noticed their somber expressions, his face darkened. "I was about to say how good it was to see you, but suddenly, I’m not so sure I’m going to enjoy this visit."
"I don't think you will either," Adam said slowly. "I have bad news."
Hearing the low mutter of voices coming from the porch, Blair walked out of the kitchen, listened for just a moment, then raced outside the instant she recognized Adam's voice.
"Adam! Adam! I was beginning to think you would never come!" she squealed joyously, as she ran and threw her arms around him. When Adam did not respond to her embrace, she stepped back, frowning. Then, it occurred to her that Tom was with him and they barely tolerated each other. She looked anxiously at Warren, and saw the expression on his face, then she slowly noted Tom's obvious discomfort and Adam's pained countenance.
Her heart plummeted to her feet. "What's wrong? What's happened?"
Chapter 29
"It's Coy, he is in serious trouble this time, Sis," Warren mumbled. "Adam has come to arrest him."
"Arrest him!" She jerked her head toward Adam. "On what charge?"
He drew a deep, heavy breath. "Suspicion of murder."
"Murder! "Blair gasped, her countenance twisting into a painful grimace.
Adam steeled himself against the excruciating pain so evident in her eyes. "Sweetheart, I never said he was guilty of the charge."
"Then why arrest him?"
His face was grim. "I have no other choice. You saw the people's mood that night of the dance, when Radigan's store burned —well ... it was much worse today. They turned into an ugly mob, ready to lynch him. I realize this isn't much consolation, but at least in a court of law he will receive a fair trial."
Instead of comforting her,
Adam's words ignited her temper. "Just where will the trial be held, in Doughtery?" She laugh bitterly. "You know how fair that will be!"
"No, not in Doughtery, I’ll have to take him to Fort Smith."
"And stand trial before the notorious Hanging Judge Parker! Why, that makes me feel better already! I suppose you plan to use that as your new motto: Deputy Adam Cahill —he'll hang them now or later!" She began to shake as fearful images filled her mind and she looked away so they could not see the tears that had suddenly filled her eyes.
Tom quickly reached for his handkerchief and pressed it in her hand. He gently patted her shoulder. "Blair, I am so sorry about all of this ... I realize mere words are not too comforting but if there is anything I can do, please don't hesitate to ask."
Nodding, Blair accepted the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. "Warren, are you just going to sit idly by and allow them to take him in?" she asked, sniffing back her tears.
"I don't have any. . . ." His attention shifted to the direction of the barn when he saw Coy walking toward the house.
Seeing Adam, Coy yelled a greeting and started walking toward them.
"Run, Coy, run!" Blair suddenly shouted, frantically gesturing for him to go back.
"Shut up, Blair," Warren roared. "You will get him killed!"
"Adam wouldn't shoot him and neither would Tom!"
"No, but that lynch mob will track him down, and they won't think twice about stringing him up! With Adam he has a chance!"
Hearing their loud voices, Coy began running toward them. When he saw the distressed expressions on everybody's face, he breathlessly demanded, "What's going on here? Looks like you've all just returned from a funeral." He sharply looked at Blair when she gave a strangled cry.
Adam awkwardly cleared his throat. "Coy, by the powers granted to me under the jurisdiction of Judge Parker's Federal Court, I'm placing you under arrest for suspicion of murder."
"Suspicion of murder?" Coy mouthed incredulously.