One Man's Fire

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One Man's Fire Page 11

by Ralph Compton


  The gun in Eli’s hand was the focus of Cody’s attention. Since it was held in a somewhat casual grip and pointed at the ground, there was no way for Cody to get a good enough look at the cylinder to see if it was loaded or not. Without anything else to go by, he looked back to Eli’s face. The expression there told Cody that he could very well be the next thing filling a hole on that deserted property.

  “I swear.” Cody gulped. “It wasn’t my idea.”

  “I know,” Eli calmly replied. “You never came up with any ideas. Why should you start now?”

  “To hell with you, Eli! You and yer law dog!”

  “Keep digging.”

  When Cody didn’t start moving, Saunders took a step forward. With Eli doing such good work thus far, he’d been content to let him do the talking. He didn’t say a word as he raised his gun and fired to drill a hole through the short pile of freshly turned soil next to Cody. The outlaw jumped and grumbled under his breath as his hands scooped deeper into the hole he’d created.

  It wasn’t very long before the scraping that Eli had heard became louder. “What’s that?” he asked. “Better pull it up so we can have a look.”

  “Hank and Jake both sent me here to fetch this,” Cody insisted. “Told me where to dig. I’m just doing my part. You know how it is.”

  “Then I suppose they didn’t tell you what’s inside that box?” Eli asked.

  “No.”

  All Eli had to do was cock his head and give half a grin to let Cody know he wasn’t about to sneak that lie past him either. This time, the other outlaw didn’t bother trying to defend his statement. “It wasn’t me that made the deal,” he moaned. “I’m just the one to come and collect the money. Maybe you should ask that one there about money,” he snapped while pointing at Saunders. “I hear he took his share to make that massacre happen.”

  “You mean this money?” Saunders asked while digging into one of his pockets to remove a small bundle of cash. “I’ll be using this for expenses to track down the rest of your gang. And the only reason it was a massacre was that you, Jacob Welles, and that one-eyed fella couldn’t stop pulling your triggers.”

  Squatting down with his arms propped upon his knees and his .38 dangling where it could be easily seen, Eli asked, “What’s the plan from here, Cody? You supposed to deliver this money to Jake and Hank?”

  “No, they’ll just let me keep it and ride off to Old Mexico without them. Of course I’m supposed to deliver it to ’em.”

  “Where are you meeting them?”

  Cody’s eyes began to wander between the two men in front of him before gazing up to the skies above them all.

  Thumbing back the .38’s hammer was enough to bring Cody’s attention back to earth. “Where are they?” Eli asked. “Answer me.”

  “Or what? You’ll shoot me?”

  “What problem could I possibly have with shooting you?” Eli asked. “You and the others handed me over to be killed.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Keeping his head cocked, Eli narrowed his eyes and asked, “Don’t I?”

  That question barely needed a second to sink in. As soon as it did, Cody’s rocky facade crumbled away to reveal a sorrowful, vaguely pathetic grimace. “That wasn’t my idea either. I swear to all that’s holy, it wasn’t.”

  “I believe you.” Before Cody could draw any hope from that, Eli added, “But you went along with it well enough. What should I do about that?”

  “Take the money in this box,” Cody offered meekly. “That’d make Jake and Hank real upset and make you real rich.”

  “You mean they’ll be upset when you tell them about me?”

  “No! I wouldn’t!”

  “Then how would you explain the missing money?” Eli asked. “Aren’t they waiting for it right now?”

  “Yeah, but…” The more Cody tried to speak, the harder he winced. It was almost as if gears inside his skull were grinding.

  “Because you’ve got to tell them something,” Eli continued, adding even more logs to the considerable jam inside Cody’s head. “You can’t tell them you couldn’t find it. Even you’re not stupid enough to mess up digging a hole.”

  Cody’s eyes snapped open as wide as they could get as he was hit by a sudden inspiration. “I’ll tell them the money wasn’t here! They’ll think them rich fellas double-crossed them. Jake was worried about that anyhow!”

  “What rich fellas?” Eli asked.

  “The ones who Hank told us about. The ones who offered to pay for us to go after that wagon and take whatever was inside. The ones who wanted us to let everyone know how many guns were guarding that money and how tough that wagon was.”

  Eli could feel the lawman’s self-satisfaction rolling in like fog from a lake at dawn. Twisting his own face into a disapproving scowl, Eli said, “I don’t think Jake or Hank would believe they were double-crossed. After all, they trusted those rich men enough to sign on to their plan. They also tossed me away like so much trash, so they had to have a lot of faith in what those men were selling.”

  Cody thought that over. His lips puckered together and parted again to form the front portion of words that he eventually decided not to utter. His eyes rattled in their sockets, and the considerable amount of forehead above them crinkled into furrows. “Hank never did like you. He always said we should be rid of you.”

  “But Jake never thought that way,” Eli said with confidence. “He and I had plans for some mighty big jobs. Jobs that would make us all rich. Why don’t I give you a moment to think about that.”

  “And I’ll want you to take a moment to toss me your pistol,” Saunders said. After Cody’s gun hit the dirt in front of him, the sheriff tossed the handcuffs over. “And put these on in the meantime. Can I have a word?”

  Eli followed Saunders a few steps away where they could speak without being heard by Cody while also keeping an eye on him. “You really think those cuffs are necessary?” Eli asked. “They didn’t do much to keep me from functioning.”

  “More of a message. I want to know about what that man was saying. Some of it was making sense, but you wrote it off. You think we can trust what he tells us? There’s only so far intimidation will take you. After that, a man will say anything he thinks we want to hear.”

  Eli nodded. “You’re right. Time to go with the other plan.”

  The two men had consulted with each other for less than a minute, which was more than enough time for Cody to get the handcuffs on and not quite enough for him to get to the knife secreted in his boot. When Eli glanced down at the scabbard tucked mostly out of sight, Cody stopped trying to be discreet and lunged for the blade.

  Eli rushed at him while bringing the .38 up to bear. He wasn’t worried about the outlaw seeing if it was loaded or not, because he pressed its barrel directly against Cody’s forehead. “Wrong move. Drop it.”

  The outlaw did as he was told while showing Eli a glare that could have melted the paint off a boilerplate. That shifted to a more familiar expression of confusion when Eli tapped Cody’s leg to show him the little key held tightly against his palm. “When I stand up,” he whispered, “I’ll help you to your feet. When I give the signal, we’re running for it.”

  “All right, you two,” Saunders bellowed. “Back here where I can see you.”

  “What signal?” Cody asked.

  Eli stood, grabbed one of Cody’s arms, and hauled him up. Without missing a beat, he twisted around and pointed the .38 at the sheriff and shouted, “Now!”

  Whatever Cody might have lacked in intelligence, he always made up for in spirit. This time was no exception, as the outlaw turned away from Saunders and bolted for the closest stand of trees. Saunders fired a few shots at them, which sailed wide or high of their mark. Cody was still breathing heavily with his back pressed against a tree when Eli rushed over to him.

  “I knocked him out,” Eli said.

  Cody took a quick look to find Saunders lying on his side. “When’d you do that?”
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  “While you were running here. He was forcing me to work with him. I know about the deal that Jake struck and can’t blame him or Hank for getting themselves out of a losing situation.”

  “Sorry about that,” Cody wheezed. “I truly didn’t have anything to do with that part.”

  “I know. We should probably split up,” Eli said while unlocking the handcuffs with the key he’d shown earlier. “Tell me where we’re supposed to meet Jake.”

  At first, Cody wasn’t ready to say much else. When the handcuffs fell away from his wrists and landed at the dirt near his feet, he was feeling much more charitable. “They’re in Cheyenne. I’m to meet them there.”

  “What’s in Cheyenne?”

  “The rest of the money that was supposed to be on that wagon,” Cody replied with a sneering, almost boyish grin. “Them fellas that set things up with Hank think they’re so smart. The money’s bound for Cheyenne in a wagon that ain’t nothing like the one we captured. It should get to Cheyenne soon, if it ain’t there already. Either way, Jake says the men guarding it won’t be expecting anyone to hit them after all that happened at this ranch. It was just smoke and mirrors, like a stage show. That’s what Hank said.”

  “Yeah,” Eli sighed, trying his level best to keep from showing the disgust he felt. “I just bet it was.”

  “You gotta know I’m sick about what happened with you and all.”

  “I know. Where’s your horse?”

  “Just over yonder.” When Cody glanced in another direction to where he’d tied off his horse, Eli cracked the .38 against his big head. The dim-witted outlaw crumpled onto his side, where he lay like a big oafish dog that had found a soft spot to take a nap.

  And just as Cody seemed to have found his place, Saunders climbed up out of his and walked over to get a closer look. Nodding while scratching just beneath his hat band, the sheriff said, “That worked better than we’d hoped. Put him down quick and clean.”

  “I learn from the best,” Eli said as he reflexively rubbed the aching spot on his own head that still flared up on occasion.

  “Thought you’d let him get a little farther before dropping him like that.”

  “So did I, but he just had to flap his gums about how sorry he was that I was handed over to those rich men. No matter how bad a liar he is, he could never get himself to stop. I could only stomach so much.”

  “He tell you where he’s supposed to go?”

  “Cheyenne. Just like you said.”

  “Great,” the lawman sighed. “Knew that much already. I hope this wasn’t a waste of time after all.”

  “Waste of time? Not hardly.” Eli hunkered down to sift through the fallen outlaw’s pockets. Having ridden with Cody for as long as he had, Eli knew exactly where to look for the knife as well as a holdout pistol tucked in his left boot. The knife and scabbard found a new home under Eli’s belt, and the holdout pistol remained in his hand. It was a .22 that was dirtier than anything else to be found in the outlaw’s boot. Saunders eyed it cautiously. “Not only did we confirm what you heard about Cheyenne, but we got some money to help us get there a little quicker.”

  “I told you I already had confirmation about Cheyenne.”

  “No offense, but hearing reports that way means less than nothin’. There was a stretch of time when two different newspapers said me and Jake were blazing a trail through the Dakotas or being chased out of Leadville.”

  “Which was it?”

  With a grin, Eli said, “It was Iowa. Me, him, Hank, and this bigheaded idiot lay low after pulling off a string of little jobs in Missouri. That right there is what reliable sources tell you. For the real story, you gotta go to someone who’s got a vested interest in knowing the truth. Cody may be dumb, but he sure is vested. Why’s there still a sour look on your face? You think I’m lying about what Cody just told me?”

  “No. It’s that,” Saunders said while nodding toward the pistol in Eli’s grasp.

  The jovial expression Eli had been wearing moments ago quickly faded. “One partner tosses me to the wolves and the next one can’t bear to ride with me unless he’s got the upper hand and outguns me.”

  “You’re still a prisoner in my custody,” Saunders said. “What would you do in my place?” After Eli handed over the pistol, the sheriff shook his head and cleared his throat expectantly.

  “All right, fine,” Eli growled as he handed over the knife as well. “I suppose you’re going to hand him over to those vigilantes back in Seedley?”

  “I watched him when the shooting started on the day that wagon was brought in here. This one shotgunned at least two men before they knew what was happening. Would you like me to go easy on him because he’s your friend?”

  Eli looked down at Cody for as long as he could stomach the sight of him. “He’s not my friend. He knew what he was getting into when he took up a gun and threw in with the likes of Jake and Hank. Just like the rest of us.”

  “Then it’s settled. Help me tie him up.”

  Chapter 12

  Saunders might not have allowed Eli to carry any live ammunition, but he did let him keep Cody’s gear and saddle. Cody himself was wrapped up and thrown across the back of his horse. He looked like an overgrown caterpillar lying across Eli’s old saddle. Whether he feigned unconsciousness or was truly asleep for the duration of their short ride together didn’t matter much. It was a quiet journey to a small town farther down the trail, which they reached just past sundown.

  “Glen Becker is a good enough man,” Saunders said as they approached a storefront labeled BAKED GOODS & SHERIFF BECKER’S OFFICE. “Good enough to watch over this one until he hands him over to someone else.”

  “Hands him over to who?” Eli asked.

  “If he’s got a price on his head, he’ll arrange for someone to collect him. If that’s too much trouble, he’ll send for a federal marshal. They come through here every now and then and are always willing to clear out someone else’s trash.”

  Eli glanced up and down the single short street that looked to contain most of the town’s businesses. “Federal marshals come here?”

  “Marshals, bounty hunters, judges, there are all sorts of men passing through towns like this one who’d be more than happy to take a wanted man in and claim credit for it. Just like there are plenty of retiring old-timers like Sheriff Becker who’d rather give away someone like your friend than deal with him personally. You saw firsthand what a mess that can shape up to be.”

  “Only when you break the rules,” Eli reminded him.

  “Would you rather I stick to the rules?” When he didn’t get a response to that, Saunders said, “Didn’t think so. Stay put. I’ll be right back.”

  Saunders climbed down from his saddle and then hefted Cody over one shoulder as if he were unloading a sack of feed the horse had been carrying. Midway through the process, Cody woke up and began to struggle. The outlaw made a lot of noise and attracted a whole lot of attention without doing much else. Saunders carried him into the multipurpose storefront and emerged with a bundle wrapped in white cloth. He stuck his hand into the bundle, pulled something out that was the size of a ball, and tossed it to Eli, who caught it and had to toss it from hand to hand to keep from being burned.

  “Fresh from the oven!” Saunders announced.

  The little ball of bread had a sweet smell that made it impossible for Eli to wait long enough for it to cool. Sure enough, when he took a bite he tasted a hint of honey. “Swapped Cody for some sweet bread?”

  “Nah, the bread was a bonus. Ol’ Glen’s wife is as good a baker as you’ll find in these parts.”

  “What about Cody?”

  “I don’t know,” Saunders replied through a mouthful of bread. “Can he bake anything this good?” Before Eli could look any more disgusted, the lawman added, “You worry more than a fretting hen. Have some more bread. It’ll make you feel better.”

  Oddly enough, a few more bites of the honey bread did make Eli feel better. But he wasn’t a
bout to tell Saunders that.

  “Sheriff Becker is keeping him chained and shackled to an iron post that’s been in that spot longer than the rest of the building,” Saunders continued.

  “Chained and shackled?”

  “Yep,” Saunders said with a nod. “Hands and feet, all wrapped up and tied to that post. Satisfied?”

  “I suppose. What’s to become of him after that?”

  Saunders shrugged. “Ain’t my jurisdiction.”

  “I thought you lawmen watched out for each other.”

  “We do. But we respect each other enough to let another man do his job. Old Man Becker may not be the sort to charge into a fray, but he’s handled his share of bad men. Besides, between his sons, nephews, and one grandson, he’s got more deputies than I ever had. If memory serves me correct, that hotel right over there is clean and serves some good flapjacks every morning. Let’s get us a room so we’re fresh for the morning ride.”

  “A room? As in…just one?”

  “Don’t start grousing about me trusting you again,” Saunders sighed. “You’re staying in my sight and yes, you will be cuffed to something so I can be sure you won’t run away in the middle of the night.”

  Eli shook his head, but didn’t bother complaining. He’d expected as much as far as the restraints were concerned. In fact, he was surprised he’d been granted as much freedom as he had. When he’d first imagined joining Saunders on this venture, he pictured himself being slung across a horse’s back in a manner similar to how Cody had entered town. Eli thought about asking what the name of the town was, but decided against it. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be there long enough for it to matter.

  The hotel Saunders had mentioned was within sight of the bakery passing for a sheriff’s office. For that matter, everything in that town was within sight of everything else. Their room was big enough for both men to be inside it without stepping on each other’s feet, and Saunders even allowed Eli to roam free within its confines. The outlaw knew better than to take that as anything other than the test it was. Saunders watched every move he made. When Eli looked down at the street from his window, Saunders moved his hand to within inches of his holstered Colt.

 

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