The Dawn of Fury

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The Dawn of Fury Page 54

by Compton, Ralph


  “You would be more than justified,” said Harrington. “Fact is, after I’ve telegraphed the Missouri attorney general’s office, I’ll contact the Pinkerton office in Kansas City. They should know what Miss Amy Limbaugh’s intentions are, and that as a result of their being involved, you’re in a position to bring charges against them. If they persist in hounding you, then I’d suggest you do exactly that. Now let’s ride to Fort Dodge and send those telegrams.”

  “He’s a killer.” Amy shouted, “and I’ll find him without the Pinkertons.”

  “He could have shot you dead and claimed self-defense,” said Harrington. “Instead, he disarmed you. That’s not the mark of a killer.”

  Reaching Fort Dodge, Harrington sent the telegrams, and in less than a quarter of an hour the Pinkertons responded. Harrington read the message and passed it on to Nathan. The telegram was simple and to the point. Sheriff Harrington was to detain Amy Limbaugh until a Pinkerton operative could question her.

  “I reckon it won’t stop her from comin’ after you,” said Harrington, “but she likely won’t have the help of the Pinkertons. Won’t be another train out of Kansas City until tonight. That’ll give you a head start.”

  “Thanks,” Nathan said.

  They waited for almost an hour for the Missouri district attorney’s office to respond, and when the telegram came, it satisfied Sheriff Harrington.

  “You told it straight,” said Harrington. “The shooting was ruled self-defense and the state has no charges against you. When that Pinkerton varmint steps down from the train, I’ll shove this in his face.”

  When they reached the jail, Nathan dismounted. “Before I ride out.” Nathan said, “I have some advice for Miss Amy Limbaugh.”

  Unlocking the door, Sheriff Harrington went in, Nathan following. Amy Limbaugh just stared angrily at them, gripping the bars.

  “Well, Amy,” said Harrington, “Stone told me the truth, and the Pinkertons have asked me to keep you here until they can talk to you. If you know how, I reckon you’d better come up with some truth of your own.”

  “Damn you,” she shouted, “you can’t hold me without charges. What are the charges?”

  “I don’t know all the fine points of the law,” said Harrington, “but we can always use attempted murder. The Pinkertons may have some of their own. Without their knowledge, you used them with the intention of committing a crime. Legally, Stone can sue the socks off them, and they know it. For that matter, when the Pinkertons are finished with you, Stone can file charges of his own. I certainly wouldn’t blame him.”

  “No charges,” said Nathan. “When the Pinkertons have had their say, turn her loose.”

  “Damn you,” she said. “I don’t want any favors from your kind.”

  “You’ve had your first and last favor from me,” said Nathan. “The next time you pull a gun on me, I’ll kill you.”

  Nodding to the sheriff, Nathan stepped out the door, closing it behind him. Mounting, he rode to the livery for his packhorse. While he expected Sheriff Harrington to truthfully present his case to the Pinkertons, he still intended to confront them personally. With that in mind, he rode eastward, toward Kansas City.

  Kansas City, Missouri. July 12, 1873.

  The Pinkerton Detective Agency was housed in a two-story brick building. As Nathan stepped into the lobby, Amy Limbaugh and a pair of hired guns observed him from their hiding place across the street.

  “Find some cover and spread out,” said the girl. “When he leaves the building, wait until he’s down the steps and away from it. Then cut him down.”

  Nathan was shown into the office of Roscoe Edelman, a regional director of the Pinkerton Detective Agency. Edelman said nothing, waiting for Nathan to speak.

  “There’s a gun-totin’ female name of Amy Limbaugh who aims to kill me,” Nathan said, “and through Sheriff Harrington in Dodge, I’ve learned the Pinkertons are responsible for her being on my trail. Now I’m here to tell you the straight of it, that the Limbaughs have no legal case against me, and I can prove it. If just one more sheriff comes after me as a result of your damn telegrams, I aim to purely raise hell and kick a chunk under it. Do you understand?”

  “I am not accustomed to being threatened,” said Edelman coldly, “and I refuse to be intimidated by a mouthy gunman. We have acknowledged our mistake, and we will no longer concern ourselves with your whereabouts. That’s all the consideration you’re going to get from this office. Close the door on your way out.”

  Fighting his temper, Nathan turned and walked out, leaving the door wide open. There was little to do except return to the livery where his horses and Cotton Blossom waited. Nathan had left the building and was at the foot of the steps when the first shot rang out. Lead slammed into his left side above his pistol belt, throwing him back against the steps. There was no way he could make it back to the safety of the building, and he rolled off the steps, drawing his right-hand Colt. Belly-down, he became a more difficult target, and for just a moment, his antagonist forgot his cover. Nathan shot him twice. A second man fired, his slug kicking dust in Nathan’s face. He fired once and had the satisfaction of seeing the killer stumble and fall. But another slug tore into Nathan’s left thigh, and he realized he was caught in a three-way cross fire. The third bushwhacker was to Nathan’s left and much nearer. He fired once and Amy Limbaugh screamed when the lead struck her under the collar bone. All three bushwhackers were down and Nathan was struggling to his knees when the sheriff and his deputy arrived. They stood facing Nathan, their Colts drawn and ready.

  “I’m Sheriff Wilhelm,” the lawman said. “Drop the gun. The party’s over.”

  “I didn’t open the ball, sheriff,” Nathan said. “Three bushwhackers cut down on me and they’ve all been hit.”

  “You’re just hell on little red wheels with a pistol, ain’t you?” the sheriff said. Then he spoke to his deputy. “Karl, see to them that’s hurt.”

  “You that’s been hit,” Karl said, “hold your fire. I’m a sheriff’s deputy.”

  Nathan staggered to his feet and Sheriff Wilhelm allowed him to keep his guns. The sheriff still hadn’t holstered his weapon, waiting for Karl’s report.

  “He’s right, sheriff,” said Karl. “There’s three of ‘em, and one’s dead. The other two are wounded, but they’ll live. One of ’em’s a ... uh ... female.”

  Before Sheriff Wilhelm could react to that, a crowd had gathered, drawn by the gunfire. One young man, a press card under his hat band, spoke directly to the sheriff.

  “Sheriff, I’m Brandon Wilkes, with the Liberty-Tribune.”

  “I know who you are,” Wilhelm growled, “and I got no time to talk to you.”

  “I’m not here to talk to you,” said Wilkes coolly. “I want a story from this gentleman who seems to have survived all the shooting. Mr ... ?”

  “Stone,” said Nathan. “Nathan Stone.”

  Karl, the deputy, arrived, with his Colt cocked. Ahead of him stumbled a bearded man with the left side of his shirt bloody and a bleeding, weeping Amy Limbaugh. Nathan suspected the girl was playing on the sheriff’s sympathy, and to his disgust, Wilhelm seemed to be responding.

  “Ma’am,” Sheriff Wilhelm said, “the doctor’s office ain’t far. Can you make it, or do you need help?”

  “Sheriff,” said Nathan, “this is the second time this little hellion has tried to kill me. By God, if you don’t take that Colt away from her. I’m going to.”

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  1 A heavy barge, rowed to and from anchored vessels.

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  4 Ugly dog.

  5 Libby Prison, in Richmond, was an old converted warehouse the Confederacy used to imprison captured Union soldiers. Ironically, after Grant took Richmond, Libby became a Confederate prison, and many captured Rebs were held there until their eventual release.

  6 Bean was eventually evicted from the house for nonpayment of rent. That part of San Antonio is still known to some as “Bean Town.”

  7 An exclusive district in the eastern part of New Orleans.

  8 The St. Charles Hotel dining room was highly popular in Old New Orleans.

  9 The term “honky-tonk” is Southern, attributed to the post-Civil War Negro.

  10 The Thompsons were born in Knottingley, England, Ben in 1842 and Billy in 1845.

  11 By 1869, the “pretty girl” concept had moved west to San Francisco.

  12 Average consumption was a cord of wood an hour.

  13 The “Texas” was named for the State of Texas. Nobody knows exactly why.

  14 Cullen Baker was born in Weakley County, Tennessee, in 1835.

  15 McDonoughville existed until 1913, when it merged with Gretna.

  16 A “center-fire rig” is a saddle with a single cinch in the center.

  17 First demonstrated by its inventor, Richard J. Gatling, in 1862.

  18 Near present-day town of Texarkana, which is on the state line between Arkansas and Texas. Texarkana was founded January 15, 1874.

  19 Oldest settlement in Lee County. James Shaw and Titus Mundine (early settlers) gave the townsite in the early 1850’s, naming the new town for Lexington, Massachusetts.

  20 Lee County was officially created in 1874 and named for Robert E. Lee. Giddings, thirty-five miles south of Lexington, became the county seat.

  21 Iron gray.

  22 A common remedy used on open wounds of cattle, horses, and humans.

  23 Dodge City was founded in 1872, eight miles west of the fort.

  24 The Rockies.

  25 Under the Gaslight was written by rising playwright Augustin Daly.

  26 City of Gold. In 1878, this became the site of Alamosa, Colorado.

  27 The Rio Colorado rises in intermittent draws in northeast Dawson County, Texas, flowing six hundred miles across the state, crossing or touching twenty-eight Texas counties on its way to Matagorda Bay and the Gulf of Mexico.

  28 At this time, San Angelo was “San Angela.” The town’s history began with the location of Fort Concho (1867) at the junction of the north and main Concho Rivers. Bart DeWitt established a trading post across the river on the nearest available site. The town was eventually named San Angela, honoring Mrs. DeWitt’s sister, a Mexican nun. But the name had to be changed when the Federal government—prior to issuing a bank charter and establishing a post office—objected to the masculine “San” and the feminine “Angela.”

  29 The White River, flowing southeast out of New Mexico.

  30 Twenty miles northwest of present-day city of Amarillo.

  31 Lake Meredith

  32 In 1873, this village would become the town of Medicine Lodge, Kansas. Near here, in 1867, the U.S. government and the five tribes of plains Indians—the Apache, Arapaho, Cheyenne, Comanche, and Kiowa—met and agreed upon what became known as the Medicine Lodge Treaty. It was a dismal failure, and was the government’s last attempt to make peace with the Indians. It was in Medicine Lodge (1899) that Carrie Nation began her antisaloon crusade.

  33 The fledgling town became Dodge City in 1872, when the railroad arrived.

  34 Near the present-day town of Liberty, the seat of Clay County.

  35 The Chisholm Trail.

  36 Crocodile Ranch

  37 In 1873, the town of Cuero, Texas, was founded on Cuero Creek.

  38 After accidentially shooting Williams to death, Hickok is not known to have ever fired another shot at a man.

 

 

 


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