Justice at Red River

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Justice at Red River Page 2

by John Glasby


  ‘You’ll hear all of the evidence from my foreman and the men with him,’ and Foran harshly. ‘Now pick yourself a seat and we’ll get on with it.’

  Fentry made to answer, then thought better of it and sat down at the nearby table. The other two members of the Council, Steadman and Mendall, controlled their dislike of the proceedings, but with an effort, and joined him.

  ‘All right,’ Foran said pompously. ‘This is an open and shut case as I see it. Blackie here trailed some of my beef which had gone missing last night. Reckon those two hombres were driving ‘em by a roundabout route because the boys here caught up with ‘em at one of the dried-up waterholes on the perimeter of the spread where it borders the Badlands. That right, Blackie?’

  ‘That’s right, boss,’ affirmed the foreman. He tossed back his drink. ‘They elected to fight rather than surrender.’

  ‘We only have your word for that,’ Fen try said. He drummed with his fingertips on top of the table.

  ‘You callin’ me a liar, Fentry?’

  ‘No. All I’m saying is that we’ve got two men’s lives at stake here and it seems to me that we’re only going to hear one side of this story. Could be that Phil Carson might claim that beef was his. That would put a very different light on the whole thing.’

  ‘You think I don’t know my own brand, Fentry?’ Foran’s eyes had narrowed down to mere slits. ‘I say those cattle were mine and those two men in jail are rustlers. They also shot one of my boys in cold blood. You’ve heard what Blackie said. They were caught red-handed running the beef off my land. If those had been Carson’s cattle they’d have stopped and let the boys check. As it is, they went under cover and opened fire.’

  ‘I’d like to hear what Carson has to say about this before I make up my mind about it.’

  ‘I’m not wasting any time getting Carson here.’ Foran brought his clenched fist down hard on the table. ‘We’ve got to have law here and from the way Talbot has been handling it so far, with kid gloves, there soon won’t be any law and order at all. Once these then think they can get away with rustling my beef, they’ll go on doing it. I don’t want to have to bring in a bunch of hardened gunslingers to protect my interests, I’d sooner the law took care of them for me. But if it won’t, then I guess I’ll have to go about protecting my land and cattle in my own way.’

  Fentry looked serious. Steadman coughed nervously, fiddled with his coat. Finally, he said: ‘I see your point, Mister Foran. The only thing we all want to be quite clear on, I think, is that there’s no danger of a mistake having been made. It’s very easy, in the heat of the moment to — ‘

  ‘Gentlemen,’ Foran said sharply. ‘Let’s stop talking a lot of nonsense. I didn’t come here to be lectured on how to run my own business. All I want to see is an example made of these two murderers. Now either you see it my way, or I do this on my own.’ His tone became more ominous. ‘I feel sure all three of you have sufficient regard to your own interests to know that I can make a good friend, but a very bad enemy.’ He glanced at Steadman and Mendall, the two bankers, as he went on: ‘I understand that at the moment, most of the other ranchers have credit notes with you which haven’t been paid because of the drought. My own account is the largest you have, accounting for almost seventy per cent of your assets. If I were to take my business elsewhere, to Forbes Crossing, perhaps — ‘ He let the rest of the sentence go unsaid, but the veiled threat was not lost on the two men who flanked Fentry.

  Mendall hesitated for a moment, then gave a quick nod. ‘I’m inclined to go along with you, Foran. Most of this may be circumstantial evidence as far as this court is concerned — I presume we are acting as a court of law here — but nevertheless, in view of the testimony of your foreman, it seems sufficiently strong to warrant a verdict of guilty.’

  Steadman concurred with a brief nod of his head. He did not look up to meet Foran’s satisfied glance.

  ‘And you, Fentry. What’s your opinion on their guilt?’

  The judge ignored the implied sarcasm in the rancher’s tone. He sat slouched in his chair, shoulders hunched forward. Eventually, he muttered: ‘I want it to go on record that I’m not entirely convinced of their guilt, particularly since neither man has been afforded his right to speak for himself. We’re bound by the laws of the United States here in Benton as anywhere else. One of them is that a man is innocent until he’s proven guilty and that he has the inalienable right to speak on his own behalf. It seems that we’ve denied both of these men that right.’

  ‘Nice talk;’ muttered Frisco from the next table. He swung in his chair to face the judge. ‘But we didn’t come here for talk. Those two killers stretch a rope tomorrow at First light.’

  ‘So you’re had your minds made up about them all along. You only wanted me here to make things look legal. You never intended to give either of them a fair trial.’

  Frisco got swiftly to his feet. ‘All right, Judge. You’ve had your say.’ The expression on his thin features was vicious and the older man shrank back from him. ‘Now just do as you’re told and there’ll be no trouble. Otherwise — ‘ He left the rest of his threat unsaid.

  Foran grinned, picked up his unfinished drink, looked at Judge Fentry over the rim of the glass; a cold, appraising look. ‘You heard what Frisco said, Judge. Now I advise you to go home and forget all about this. If there are any questions, particularly from Carson, I think you’ll know exactly what to tell him.’

  Fentry rose slowly to his feet, face tight. He paused for a moment beside Foran’s table, then shrugged his stooping shoulders resignedly and made for the door. Outside, he sucked in a breath of air, held it for a moment as if it could, in some way, rid him of the smell of stale tobacco smoke and whiskey which had pervaded the saloon. The street was dark except for a light in the sheriff’s office just across the road. Acting on impulse, he went over, feet shuffling a little in the dust.

  Talbot was lying back in the big chair behind the desk, his hat tilted forward over his eyes as he pushed open the door and went inside. The sound of the creaking, rusty hinges, slight though it was, brought the sheriff instantly upright, booted heels clattering on the floor. He seemed nervous and jumpy.

  ‘It’s only me, Ed,’ Fentry said quietly. ‘I’ve just been over at the saloon. Foran’s there getting ready for a lynching in the morning.’

  Talbot sighed heavily. He looked suddenly old. ‘That’s what I was afraid of,’ he muttered. ‘I figured that was in their minds when they brought these two riders in.’

  ‘Foran was saying they’d been wounded in a gunfight.’

  ‘That’s right. Pretty badly wounded. They’d both lost quite a lot of blood and one’s got a slug in his chest. They’re both going to die anyway, but I suppose Foran can’t wait for that to happen, he’s got to hurry things on a little.’

  ‘I gather that Phil Carson doesn’t know two of his boys are here.’ Fentry sat down wearily in the chair facing the desk. He stretched his legs out in front of him. ‘Wonder if somebody shouldn’t ride out and tell him. Maybe he’d want to do something about it.’

  Talbot opened a drawer of his desk, took out a half-empty bottle and a couple of glasses. He poured a couple of glassfuls. ‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this, Judge. You know what would happen if Phil did get to hear tonight?’

  Fentry sipped his drink, then nodded heavily. ‘He’d bring some of his boys into town and bust these two men out of jail. Reckon a lot of innocent people might get hurt.’

  ‘That’s the way I figure it. On the other hand, if he didn’t get to know until it was too late, I reckon he might think twice about it. After all, he wouldn’t be able to bring ‘em back.’

  Fentry leaned forward, put his weight on his elbows, but he only felt a slight pressure. There was a curious numbness in his body. I must be getting old, he thought bitterly, to sit here and let two men be lynched and do nothing about it. Fifteen, maybe ten, years ago, he’d have fought tooth and nail to prevent an injustice like this from
happening. But since then so much had happened to dampen his spirit until now it had been put out altogether.

  Talbot said, from a long distance, ‘How much longer are we going to stand by and let Foran run this town just as he likes? He rides in here and starts to take over — slowly at first, until he’s built up a private army of professional killers at his back — until soon, if we aren’t careful, he’ll own everything and everybody. If only the other ranchers would just wake up to the danger, band together, and fight. But we can’t expect any miracles now. They’re all watching out for themselves. Can’t blame ‘em, I suppose. We had everything peaceful until Foran came into the territory. None of the crews around here are professional gunmen like those riding with Foran.’

  ‘We’ve got Condor,’ Fentry said suddenly. He looked at the sheriff with some care.

  ‘No good.’ Talbot shook his head. ‘He’s a funny one, Frank Condor. A fast man with a gun, I’ll admit that and if only half of the stories they tell about him are true, he could outdraw any of Foran’s hired killers. But there’s been something in his past, something he’s running away from, that he never talks about. Nobody knows what it is, but it’s enough to make him shut himself away from this business.’

  Fentry pressed his lips together into a tight, determined line. He got to his feet. ‘I think I’ll go and have a talk with him, anyway.’

  *

  ‘There has to be something we can do to stop this,’ Fentry said. He was watching Frank Condor who was sitting at the table in the dining-room of the small hotel, finishing his supper. ‘If we don’t, then we can say goodbye to law and order in Benton and no decent, self-respecting citizen will be able to walk down that street out there in safety. Believe me, I know what happens in a frontier town like this when somebody as ruthless as Witney Foran rides in to take over.’

  ‘But why are you telling me all this?’ Condor eyed the other levelly across the table.

  ‘I thought you might help us. Two badly wounded men are in jail right now and Foran means to have them taken out at dawn and hanged.’

  ‘And you want me to go out there and stop it?’

  Fentry shook his head. ‘I’ve already given up all hope of that. Nothing is going to stop this lynching. But if it brings people to their senses and if they can get somebody to lead them, I’m sure all of the ranchers will band together to fight Foran.’

  Condor drank down the hot coffee. ‘If you’re lookin’ to me to lead them in this range war, then the answer’s no. I’ve had enough of violence to last me a lifetime. I’ve seen what it can lead to and I want no more of it.’ His tone was hard, emphatic. Bitter too. ‘I’ve seen too many men die by the gun. Good and bad. I came here to get away from all that.’

  ‘If things go on as they are doing, you won’t be able to stay out of it.’ Disappointment edged the other’s tone. ‘Foran won’t stop with hanging these two men. This is just a gesture to let the other ranchers know that he means to be boss. I’ve seen this coming for more than a year now. The smaller men being squeezed out, mortgages called on as soon as their notes come up. Both Steadman and Mendall are in cahoots with Foran. Whether they’re doing it because they like it or because they have no other choice, I don’t know. But the outcome is the same whichever way it is. Men forced to sell their livelihoods for less than half of what their land and herds are worth. If they try to make a stand the ranches are burnt, cattle rustled, crewmen shot from ambush or called in the saloon. Where it is going to stop?’

  ‘Seems to me you’ve brought a lot of it on yourselves. If you’d made your stand a year ago, you wouldn’t be in this position.’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s always easy to be wise after the event.’ Fentry sat silent for several minutes engrossed in his own bitter thoughts. When the big man facing him made no further attempt to speak, he said finally: ‘I suppose I was wrong to think you might be prepared to help the town fight this menace. I don’t know what has happened to make you like this. Maybe it’s none of my business, but — ‘

  ‘That’s right, Judge,’ interrupted Condor bitingly. ‘It is none of your business.’

  Fentry gave a harsh, brittle laugh. ‘I’ve heard a lot of things about you, Condor. Some of them I frankly didn’t believe, others I figured might just be true. They say you used to be some kind of marshal, down on the Texas border; a straight-shooting lawman with a fast gun. They reckon you even outshot Billy the Kid and locked him up once. If any of that’s true. I can’t figure why you should be content to stand by and see all of the injustice that’s going on here in Benton.’

  Condor’s eyes turned blacker, his face shadowed. ‘Better forget about me, Judge. I can’t help any,’ he said flatly.

  For a moment another retort trembled on Judge Fentry’s lips. Then he swung abruptly on his heel and walked quickly out of the dining-room. Condor continued to drink his coffee in the sudden brooding stillness. The street outside was equally quiet except for the faint murmur of sound that came from the Fast Gun saloon at the other end of town. At the moment, all he wanted to do was go along there and get drunk. At twenty-seven, he was a tall, lean man, face burned deep brown by long exposure to sun and wind; a man used to the long trails and hills. As he sat there a sharp feeling ran through him. It had been Fentry’s last phrase which now turned its knife point in his mind.

  He knew that some of his reputation had followed him here, had known it for a long time, just as he had seen this trouble looming up ever since Foran had moved in. Maybe, he reflected bitterly, he had also known that, sooner or later, somebody would put to him the same proposition that Judge Fentry had a few moments earlier and he had known, even then, what his answer would have to be. Sighing, he finished his coffee, rose to his feet, went up the creaking stairs to his room.

  Without putting a match to the lamp, he went over to the window, staring down into the street outside. A cloud snuffed out the moon, but a moment later it returned, throwing an eerie light over everything. A light still showed in the sheriff’s office and on the other side of the street, gleaming silver in the moonlight, more lights flared from the windows of the saloon. This trouble was the town’s burden, he told himself; not his. Yet as he stood there, he had the feeling that his past was catching up on him fast and the thought of it burned away all of the warmth from his body. Going over to the small bureau beside the bed, he opened the top drawer, ran his fingers over the cold metal of the twin Colts which reposed there, the butts smooth with long use, the barrels and mechanism still slick with a faint sheen of oil. He had put them there on his first day in Benton, firmly resolved never to buckle them on and use them ever again.

  Almost savagely, as if bitten by a rattler, he withdrew his hand, thrust the drawer shut with an angry motion. He had his own burden to bear. A burden which had turned a once simple world and existence into something of unguessed shadowed shades that demanded answers and haunted his dreams.

  Two: Lynch Law Talbot

  Talbot had slept for a little while and when he wakened it was nearly dawn, with the slightest indication of grey filtering through the dusty window panes. He got abruptly to his feet, straightening his stiff limbs. Lighting a cigarette, he walked around the desk. There was a dull throbbing in his head, shooting through to his eyes. The cigarette smoke removed some of the sour taste from his mouth and now he was beginning to remember more of what had happened the previous night. Then everything came to him suddenly and his mind was not fully ready for it. The shock of Foran’s threat stiffened his body and then left him limp the next moment. Hurrying over to the street door, he opened it a crack and peered out. The street was silent, deserted. No sign of any impending trouble.

  As his body began to tense again he tried very hard to remain calm. Maybe it had just been a threat and nothing more. After all, Foran would gain nothing by hanging two badly wounded men. Scarcely had the thought crossed his mind than the doors of the saloon opposite swung open and three men stepped out on to the boardwalk. He saw them glance over towards the
jail, had time to notice that Witney Foran was one of them, before he stepped sharply back into the office, closing the door swiftly.

  There was a stock of rifles locked in the cupboard on the wall and for a moment he debated the wisdom of getting one out and trying to stop these men. He had the key in his hand when the door was thrust violently open and Foran came into the office, with Blackie Carron and Frisco behind him.

  Foran said with a deceptive softness: ‘You thinking of breaking out some of those guns, Ed?’

  Talbot stood facing the other, feeling foolish. He saw the sneering look on Frisco’s smoothly handsome features, the right hand hovering close to the gun at his waist, then put the key back carefully on top of the desk.

  Foran grinned broadly. ‘That’s better, Sheriff. Now you’re showing some horse sense. Frisco’s a little trigger-happy this morning. He’s been up all night with the rest of us. We called a meeting to talk over the fate of those two prisoners you’ve got locked up in the cell. We reckon it’s about time the representatives of Benton decided what to do with killers and rustlers. So we tried ‘em both and found ‘em guilty. Now we’re here to carry out the sentence that was passed.’

  ‘You’ve got no right at all to do this, Foran.’ Talbot drew himself up to his full height. ‘I’m the sheriff in town and I take my orders from Judge Fentry.’ He looked from one man to the other. ‘I don’t see him here.’

  ‘He was over at the saloon last night when we had the trial,’ Blackie put in. ‘Now just step on one side and don’t make any trouble. We aim to get this thing over with fast. We don’t have any time to waste talkin’ with you.’

  With an effort, Talbot fought to control the fear in his quaking mind. He knew he was bucking big trouble making a stand like this. None of these men would hesitate to shoot him, sheriff or not, but he felt that he had to make some kind of protest. ‘I want to hear from Fentry about this before I turn those men over to you.’

 

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