Mobley's Law, A Mobley Meadows Novel

by Summers, Gerald Lane

  Edson’s mouth dropped open.

  Mobley looked up, eyes afire. He forced his way out of the pincers and stood up. “You boys’re feeling real tough, is that it? You think you can whup on me and that’ll be it? Well, I’ve got news for you. I’ve been listenin’ to you two flap your gums long enough. If you can whup on me, then do it. But I’ll tell you right now, there ain’t two men in this whole world can whup on me when I’m riled, and I am riled.”

  Jack stood, backed up, regretting his words. “Hold it there; you’re in no condition to fight. That wound has barely healed.” He raised his hands, as if to push Mobley back. “Now sit back down. We’re only joking.”

  It was too late. Mobley wailed into Jack, arms and elbows flying in all directions. Jack was surprised by the suddenness of the attack and went down, dirt, mud, and grass flying.

  Edson jumped up. He was reluctant to join in, uneasy about fighting with friends. Mobley clearly needed an outlet for whatever he was feeling, but a fight? Edson danced around the two wrestling men, looking for an opening, not wanting to find one. Jack screamed at him, “Grab him, Edson. Damn it.”

  Edson stopped, took a deep breath, and then piled onto Mobley’s back, trying to pinion his arms. It was no use; Mobley Meadows was a six-foot-six inch whirlwind of elbows, kicking knees and dangerous fists that looked the size of gold pans. Edson took an elbow in the mouth, rolled off the pile, and felt his upper lip begin to swell.

  Jack managed to lift his knee into Mobley’s crotch, expecting him to go flying off in agony. Mobley grunted, but kept on swinging both arms in great roundhouse circles, most of which ricocheted off Jack’s forearms.

  Edson threw himself back into the fight and clamped his teeth down hard on the back of Mobley’s leg. The man howled, and Jack was able to roll free.

  Mobley came at Edson like a madman. Edson saw the maniacal look in his face and backed away to gain fighting room.

  Jack bounded to his feet and threw himself at Mobley’s knees just as Edson came charging back to grab him in a neck lock. Mobley went down hard, but was clearly not out of the fight.

  * * *

  Jack thought he’d been in some good battles in his life, but there’d never been anything like this. Mobley possessed a level of energy surpassing anything Jack had ever seen. They’d fought for half an hour, dry mouthed and dying of thirst, blood and gore splashed on faces, clothes in shreds. By unspoken agreement, neither he nor Edson had taken advantage of Mobley’s chest wound, making sure no blows were landed on his rib cage.

  For an instant, Jack thought he detected a weakness he could exploit. Edson was grappling with Mobley in a wrestler’s grip, forehead to forehead, arms locked on necks. Jack had stepped back to catch his breath, but he now careened back into the fray.

  He grabbed Mobley by the left arm and twisted it back and up behind his head. He managed to turn the man’s big hand back and around and was able to control him by forcing the hand to bend forward farther than it was designed to go. He then pulled the arm straight and planted his free hand on Mobley’s elbow.

  Mobley tried to resist but grimaced in pain each time Jack lifted the arm and applied more pressure to the wrist. Jack could now lead him around bent over double wherever he wanted him to go.

  “Dang you, Jack. That’s not a fair hold.”

  “What do you mean, fair? There are no rules to this fight.” Jack reached around and rapped Mobley on his wounded rib. He immediately regretted the act. A small spot of blood still stained the bandage.

  Mobley groaned in pain, his energy draining quickly. The fight had been taken out of him. Jack knew he could control him at will.

  “Uncle,” Mobley said, his face a mask of pain.

  “What?”

  “I said uncle, dang you. Now let me be.”

  Jack looked at Edson who shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not until you tell us what’s wrong. Now start talking.”

  Jack forced Mobley’s hand farther forward and could see he was in great pain.

  “All right—all right. Oh, Lord Jesus. Where did you learn that hold?”

  “I don’t know. It just came to me.” Jack maneuvered Mobley to the campfire and forced him down by the tall Sycamore. “Now, talk.”

  Mobley gasped. Jack could see the man’s eyes begin to swell. He let him go and sat down next to him. Edson did the same on the opposite side. Mobley hung his head.

  A few minutes later, he began to talk. He poured his heart out about Lydia, how he’d fouled up. He’d found himself tongue-tied, embarrassed whenever she’d tried to be close. He’d wanted to treat her like a queen, but she didn’t like it.

  Jack nodded. He’d once done the same thing. “Some women don’t like to be put on a pedestal like that.”

  Edson shook his head. “That ain’t it. You didn’t recognize her as a competent person. You acted like she might break in two if you didn’t protect her. She didn’t like that, not one bit.”

  Mobley looked up. His eyes were clear but puffy and dark. “How do you know that?”

  “I heard her tell you off at the party. So did most everyone else. Weren’t you listening?”

  Mobley hesitated. He’d been in such a blind panic when she’d started yelling at him he’d heard little of what she actually said. He hung his head again.

  Jack looked at Mobley. “That’s not all, is it? It really isn’t all about Lydia, or you would have gone back to Waco and tried to patch things up.”

  Mobley shook his head. Jack knew he was right. “Was it the newspaper articles, all those lies?”

  Mobley lifted his head and stared off into the distance. “Partly, I suppose. There was just enough truth in what they said to make me ashamed. I was too arrogant. Never considered how my actions might look to others. Yancy Potts said it best. I’m my own worst enemy.”

  “Yancy? When did you see Yancy?”

  Mobley’s jaw muscles flexed, eyes now flat and expressionless. “He came to my room the day after the newspapers came out. He’d found out about you being the son of General Santa Anna. He threatened to tell the papers if I didn’t agree to go along with them, become part of Davis’s gang of corrupt friends.”

  Jack let out a sigh. He’d known it would end sometime. His life since joining Mobley had been the best it had ever been. But he knew it could not last. Nothing good in his life had ever lasted very long.

  He stood up, slapped the dust out of his pants and hooked his thumbs in his belt. “Look here, Mobley. I’m not worried about being revealed. I hate that cabron, Santa Anna. But I’m proud of my heritage as a Mexican. You may remember I was a little reluctant about this Jack Anthony Lopes business, but I went along because I had no other options. I’m not about to stand in your way, or be an obstacle to your success. I’ll just get on my horse and move on.”

  “No you won’t, Jack, because it wouldn’t make any difference. He could still use it against me, anytime. He could take away the one thing that makes any judge effective. Public respect. It doesn’t matter why the public loses that respect, even if the conclusion is based on mindless prejudice. If the public doesn’t respect a judge, thinks he’s stupid or corrupt, he should resign. He can do nothing but bring the entire judiciary into disrepute.

  Riding circuit without you two wouldn’t be the same, so I’d give it up before I’d let either of you go. I’d give it up before I’d sell out to those skunks too, but at that moment in time, I wasn’t thinkin’ too straight. And make no mistake; Yancy Potts is real good at this extortion business. He knew how much being a judge meant to me, so he really put my feet to the fire. If I didn’t go along, he would tell. If I did go along, I’d be giving up everything I ever stood for. Either way, I thought I was up the creek. Must have been in shock for a while, trying to figure a way out. I wanted to keep the job too danged bad.”

  Mobley gazed off across the river. “I’d thought about it for some time, seeing no way out; and then I found myself actually considering what would happen if I sold Jack down
the river. At that moment, it dawned on me what a rotten skunk I’d become. Even thinking about turning against one of the closest friends I’ve ever had, flew in the face of everything I’d ever held dear. Truth, honesty, honor, trust, it all suddenly seemed a charade, my life a lie. There was no job, not even as a federal circuit court judge, worth that. Now, the only thing I can think to do, is resign, like I said.”

  Mobley stood and started brushing off his own pants. “The consolation is that Governor Davis, Yancy, and all their cronies are doomed as well. Richard Coke is going to win the election and they’re going to be out looking for work, just like us. The only one still around will be that damned Judge Hooks. He should be taken out and shot.”

  CHAPTER 44

  The campfire flared furiously as Mobley tossed several dry logs on the coals. He stared at the sparks, pondered their momentary existence, and then leaned back against his saddle, long legs crossed before him. The sound of pounding hooves turned his head.

  Edson raced his horse along the river, frothy sweat flying from its body. What’s he doing? Where are the supplies? He’d sent Edson into Austin to buy more staples. Jack was out hunting. They’d pondered the situation for two days, concluding nothing could be done. Three minds on the problem had made no difference. If Yancy released information about Jack, that would be that.

  A decision had been made. They would track down Ferdie Lance, find him and see that he was hanged for his crimes. Mobley would then resign and retire to Waco. He would not join forces with Governor Davis or his followers.

  It was a good lesson, he’d thought, not to allow events to precipitate regrettable action. While he would always be a man of action, making mistakes as he went, he now recognized that doing nothing was sometimes the best action to take.

  Jack would either survive as his deputy, or he would not. Lydia would accept him back after this was all over, or she wouldn’t. Either way, they would all remain friends and stay together. No one, not even the governor could change that.

  But something was wrong. Edson would not abuse his horse without cause. He continued his hard gallop right into camp, dismounted on the run, Beauty sliding to a complete halt on her own. Dust billowed up, causing Mobley to wave his hat to clear the air.

  Edson seemed out of breath. “You’re not going to believe this, no way, no how.” He looked around. “Where’s Jack?”

  “He’s out hunting. Should be back anytime. What’re you all excited about?”

  Edson walked to the fire and sat, panting. He held a folded copy of the Austin Telegraph in his hand. He handed it to Mobley and shook his head. “Davis lost the election, just like you said, but he’s refusing to step down. The Texas Supreme Court declared the election illegal, the vote no good. Richard Coke refuses to accept the decision. They say Coke’s organizing his forces in Waco and plans a march on Austin. Davis is mobilizing, too, trying to get President Grant to call out the army. It’s all there, in the paper.”

  “Sweet Jesus.” Mobley jumped up, threw his hat to the ground and stomped on it.

  Edson picked it up, brushing the dirt off. “Now, why’d you do that? If you keep stompin’ on that nice hat, all the pretty bead work is going to come off. Can’t you think of some other way to blow your stack?”

  “AAAAAAGGGGG!!!”

  “Damn, Damn, Damn! President Grant was relying on me to keep him informed of this kind of thing so he wouldn’t be caught by surprise. Now, here I am out on the prairie pissin’ into the teeth of a gale. My God, what’re we going to do?”

  “You talked personally to President Grant?”

  “Of course I did. He appointed me to this judgeship. We met at his office after my confirmation. He told me to watch out for Davis and do everything I could to prevent the situation here from getting out of hand. Instead, I came out shootin’ and pushin’ people around. Now, everyone’s mad and getting’ ready to fight.”

  “Hey, stop that. I think everything you did was great. Maybe you shouldn’t have shot Oliver’s ear off, but from what I’m told, he deserved it. Now, stop throwing yourself on the spear.”

  Mobley put his hands on his hips. “Sword. It’s sword, not spear.”

  “What? Well, dang, what difference does that make?

  Sword, spear, they’re both sharp.”

  Mobley turned and paced his way down to the river. He stopped, turned and walked back.

  “Where’s Jack?”

  Edson gestured with both hands, an exasperated look on his face. “You just got through telling me he’s out hunting.”

  “I did? Well, he’s never around when I need him.”

  Edson smiled as Mobley turned and walked back to the river bank.

  An hour later Jack arrived with a small antelope tied across his saddle. Mobley was at the river knee deep in tall grass and thought. He looked up; tossed away the stem of grass he’d been chewing, and strode to Jack’s side. Jack had an uncanny way of discovering and focusing on important issues. He didn’t concern himself with the trivial. He found and dealt with the real problem.

  “Jack. We’ve got some serious thinking to do here. Tell him, Edson.”

  * * *

  Mobley walked back and forth before the campfire, hand scratching his chin. “We’re still stumbling around in the dark. We need to find the Governor’s weak spot. To do that, we have to go over what we know and compare it with what we need. We’ve got to get enough evidence on the Governor to force him out of office. The key lies in what we already know. I can feel it. We just have to root it out.”

  Jack stood and walked a few feet away from the fire. “Right, then. Let’s go over it. At the governor’s party we found out that Davis and Judge Hooks are thick as thieves and probably conspired to have you suspended. We know he’s also tight with that arsebucket from the newspaper, but that’s about all we picked up there and it gets us nowhere. We know Ferdie Lance supplied the Comancheros and organized the attack on the train. Mary Sue Doss told Edson all that, but it’s all hearsay and she wouldn’t make a good witness even if we could convince her to talk. We’ve done our best to find Ferdie Lance, but we’ve failed. Yancy Potts knows all about the governor, but he’s involved so deep, there’s no way we could get him to help us, at least voluntarily. We’ve got to find some other way.”

  Mobley shook his head. No matter how they looked at it, the situation remained the same. He thought of Judge Oliver and the Waco situation. Two judges of equal power had ordered the arrest of the other. Was that the answer? Have Jack and Edson arrest Aubrey Hooks and haul him off somewhere? Mobley would then be the sole legitimate judicial power. He could issue an order the same way Hooks did, without a case before him, overruling the Texas Supreme Court in favor of Richard Coke. But such action would bring massive rebuke, maybe his own impeachment. The federal court would be held up to even greater ridicule. Not only that, Davis would probably refuse to accept the validity of the order. Mobley could not afford to do that.

  “Voluntarily?” Mobley looked up at Jack. “Are you suggesting we should kidnap Yancy, force him to talk?”

  Jack hooked his thumbs in his gun belt. His eyes seemed to flare. “Why not? The skunk is as guilty as the rest. If it’s too much for your sensibilities, let me have him. I’ll have him begging to kiss my bum in less than five minutes.”

  Edson squirmed. He got up and kicked dirt into the fire. Mobley studied him. Something was definitely on his mind. “What do you say, Edson? Should we take Yancy out like Jack suggests, slow roast his testiculars, and put the fire stick to his tallywacker? That’s what the Cherokee would do, isn’t it?”

  Edson snapped around, his jaw jutting forward. He glared back at Mobley. “No! But before we became civilized, before we learned how to scalp, rape, pillage, lie and break treaties like the white man, we’d have turned him over to the women. They’d have peeled him like an onion, one layer at a time. Cook and eat little pieces of his body, using salt and pepper of course, and making sure he stayed alive as long as possible to watch
. The men would have stayed away, minding their own business. Torture is for women, not warriors.”

  Edson turned and stomped off to the river. He threw several rocks into the slow moving water, then sat down. Mobley and Jack looked at each other. Mobley shrugged.

  “What’s really on his mind, Jack? He’s been acting all jumpy.”

  Jack shook his head.

  Edson stayed at the river for most of an hour, and then returned. He held his hat in his hands, fiddling it around and around. Mobley waited.

  “If you could find a way to get to Yancy, would it have to hurt Dixie?”

  Mobley looked at Edson quizzically.

  “What do you mean, Edson?”

  “I mean—I found out some things about Yancy at the party that he would not want known, but there’s no way I’m going to allow Yancy to be hurt by it if it’s going to hurt Dixie. I promised her.”

  “But, Edson—there’s going to be a war. People are going to be killed by the hundreds. Maybe worse.”

  Edson glared down at Mobley, his deep black eyes shining like obsidian. “I don’t care. White men have been killing each other for thousands of years, so what’s a few more matter? But I will not allow Dixie Lee Potts to get hurt. You must promise me. Whatever you do with the information, it will not be used unless some way is found to protect her.”

  “Protect her? Aren’t you the one who said women don’t like being protected?”

  Edson threw his hat down on the ground, thought to stomp on it, and then held back. “Dang you, Mobley, that’s not the same. You were trying to protect Lydia like a child. It was choking her. She’s the one who shot the man who shot you. Have you forgotten? She’s tough, but Dixie ain’t. If we go after Yancy, he’ll be destroyed. If he’s destroyed, Dixie will go down with him.

  Edson sighed. “Look, I know she’ll run her string out someday—all by herself—because she takes too many chances, but I am not going to be the one to make it happen. She’s a special person.”

  Mobley looked at Jack. Jack shifted his eyes between Mobley and Edson, then nodded. Clearly Edson would not relent. “We’ll do everything we can.”