by Dan Arnold
***
After the service ended, as we were heading outside, Wes Spradlin greeted us at the door.
“Sheriff Sage, could you wait a few minutes. I’d like to have a word with you.”
I looked at Lora.
“Please don’t be long, John. We need to feed these kids and Sarah is about ready for a nap,” She said.
“Actually, that’s what I want to speak to you about. Could I come by your home later?”
Lora gave him a big smile.
“Yes of course, Brother Spradlin. We would be delighted to have you. Won’t you come for Sunday dinner? It’ll just be fried chicken and corn on the cob, collard greens and mashed potatoes with gravy,” Lora offered.
“Why, yes ma’am, I’d like that very much.”
“Do you know where we live?”
“I surely do.”
“Good, we’ll look forward to seeing you, in about an hour.”
23.
Sunday dinner with our new preacher proved to be enjoyable. Wes Spradlin showed us a side of himself I would never have imagined existed. He and I had played with Jacob out in the yard while Lora finished up the meal preparations and Sarah was napping.
We played baseball, using a ball and bat Wes brought with him. It wasn’t the first baseball bat I had seen in Bear Creek. The Bear Creek Fire Brigade had formed a team, and some of my deputies had recently joined up with the police department to form a law enforcement team. I knew baseball was becoming quite popular all over the country. The Cincinnati Red Stockings had fielded an all professional team for at least twenty years. Chicago had been paying players for years. I’d heard the Boston Red Stockings now fielded a team of all professional, paid players. There’d been an organized national baseball league, started during the War Between the States, but this was the first time I’d ever actually touched a baseball.
I played the part of catcher and Wes pitched the ball. Jacob was the batter. At first, Jacob had a hard time even holding the bat. I suppose Wes and I improvised the rules a little, and, in no time, Jacob started hitting the ball.
***
After Lora’s fine dinner, the kids were outside playing and we were sitting around the table in the dining room having coffee and conversation.
“May I ask what you plan to do with those two children?” Wes asked.
Lora and I looked at each other.
“Pastor Spradlin, at this point, there are too many things we don’t know. Those poor kids are just now beginning to trust us enough to even speak. We don’t know what happened to their parents. We don’t know if they might have extended family somewhere. We don’t know what to do.” Lora said.
“We plan to provide for them as best we can until we find their family,” I added.
“Oh, of course, I’m confident you will. The only reason I ask is because, as you know, there are several orphans on the streets here in Bear Creek, and our church is part of the group formed to address the issue. This is something altogether new for me. I don’t have a clue where to start.”
I considered that for a moment.
“Wes, It happens there’s a local business woman who wants to donate some land and a two story house to the county, to be used as a school and orphanage.”
Lora looked startled.
“Where did you hear that?” she asked.
“Mrs. Poole came to see me yesterday morning. She came specifically to make that proposal. We’ve been a little too busy to discuss it.”
“Did you say Mrs. Poole, Mrs. Emma Poole?” Wes asked.
I nodded.
“Do you know her?”
“I used to. She knew me, way back when. I had no idea she was here in Bear Creek.” Wes looked shaken.
Lora opened her eyes very wide and raised her eyebrows, making a face, as though she were saying, “Oh my!”
“I don’t believe Mrs. Poole’s Boarding House is even in Alta Vista County, is it, John?” Lora asked, rather casually.
“No, and she doesn’t own that place. It belongs to the mayor of Waller. The property in question is up in North Fork.”
“I had no idea she was here,” Wes repeated.
“Well, it sure is a small world, isn’t it?” Lora said, with a ‘gee whiz’ kind of grin.
“You must understand! I was a different person back then. I wasn’t a good man at all.” Wes said.
“After all these years, don’t you think she’s forgotten?”
“No, John, I expect not. I killed a man over her. She’ll never forget it. I killed her husband.”
***
How easy it is for passions to turn violent and end with killing. In the history of the world, how many men have been killed in fights over a woman? Human weakness and our sinful nature are always with us. All too common is that story.
Still, no matter how common it may be, an announcement like the one Wes just made does have a tendency to cause a pause in polite conversation.
We could hear the children playing outside.
After a moment, Lora said, “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’ll go check on the children.”
We stood up as she left the room.
Wes shook it off, and breathed a deep sigh.
“It’s funny how the past has a way of catching up to you,” he said.
I nodded. If anyone understood that, it was me.
“How do we move forward from here,” he asked.
“I have business up in North Fork. When I go up there the next time, you could ride along with me. We’ll look over the property and see if it will actually be suitable for the intended purpose. If it is, the County will have a hard time explaining why they aren’t interested in getting the orphanage started. It will cost them next to nothing. Of course, there is still the issue of staffing the place and budgeting for the ongoing maintenance, and so on.”
“Not to mention rounding up the children,” Wes added.
”We’ll see how it all shakes out,” I said.
“Do you think there will be a problem if I’m involved?” Wes asked.
“Is there still bad blood between you and Mrs. Poole?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t seen each other in several years. All that happened long ago and far away from here. At the time, she indicated she had little cause for sorrow at the loss of that particular gentleman. On his best days, he was a bad man and generally worse than worthless. He was a parasite who abused her.”
“Okay, good, we’ll plan on going to North Fork and checking out the property. Do you have a horse?”
“I have both a horse and a buggy. They actually belong to Bud and Mildred, but they are available for my use while I’m here.”
“While you’re here? Are you planning on going somewhere?”
“It depends to some degree on what happens with Bud’s situation. They may or may not return, but if things go well, they may be able to return in a few weeks. I don’t know. In any event, I may need to move on to a location a bit more off the beaten path.”
“Why is that?”
“I am not the same man I was, but the rest of the world doesn’t know it. I made enemies in my wilder days, and while I’ve learned to forgive those who’ve sinned against me, there are those who may come hunting me because they are not the forgiving type. Then there is the matter of my reputation. Bear Creek is a little too easy to find for anyone who might come hunting trouble.”
I spent a moment considering the various implications of these things. Wes had a reputation as a gunman. He’d killed at least eleven men. Sooner or later, someone would come looking for him
“I understand. I expect it will take some time for you to redeem your reputation,” I said.
“Yes, I can only hope I will live long enough to do it.”
“I’ll help in any way I can,” I offered.
“Thank you, John. I intend to earn your trust.”
“You know, I think we need to get started on this orphanage project as soon as possible. Do you want to go up to North
Fork tomorrow, if I can get loose?”
“Yes, I would like that.”
“Well, then, come by my office in the courthouse tomorrow morning. I have some serious issues to address and may not be able to get away. If it looks like I can get free, we’ll head on up there.”
24.
It seemed like Brother Spradlin had only just left, when Lora came back in with another visitor.
“Look what I found wandering around outside,” she said.
Today, Bob was dressed in the manner of a working man. He wore a homespun red cotton shirt over wool pants, with a canvas jacket to cover his guns.
“Hey, Bob, what brings you by here this afternoon?”
Bob held his hat in his hands, looking casually around the room.
“Was that Wes Spradlin I saw leaving?”
“Yes, he’s our new pastor. How do you know him?”
“A preacher? Not the last time I saw him. I don’t actually know him, but I’ve seen him work.”
“What are you referring to?”
“Can I take your hat, Bob? Won’t you sit down?” Lora offered.
Bob surrendered his hat and bowed slightly.
“I guess it was five or six years ago, over in Arizona Territory. I was thinking about taking a job for a big rancher there in a serious conflict with another ranch over some water rights. Anyway, I had just gotten to the little town and was sitting in the only saloon—not to my standards, when Wes Spradlin came in. I had just met three men who worked for the same outfit I was thinking about hiring on with. Those three riders shaped up to be gun slicks rather than cattlemen. When Spradlin came in, they got real quiet and told me who he was and that Spradlin worked for the other outfit in the conflict.
Those three hombres had just enough whiskey in them to make them maybe a tad bit reckless. I don’t know; maybe they figured three against one was pretty good odds, but for whatever reason, they braced Spradlin. They fanned out in front of him and started mouthing off with threats and telling him to quit the country. Your pastor there, Mr. Spradlin, had his back to the bar and he had nowhere to move.
I’ll never forget it. He looked at those men and called them pansies and weak little sisters. He said real men would face him alone, or one at a time. He said those boys were lily livered cowards, and it was those words that opened the ball.
All three of them grabbed for their guns. The first one was pretty quick, but his shot missed Spradlin. When the shooting stopped, Spradlin was the only one standing. All three of those men were shot up and your ‘holy Brother Spradlin’ was calmly thumbing new shells into his guns, still casually leaning against the bar.”
“He killed all three men? Lora asked, clearly shocked.
“Well no, I think one or more of them probably lived, but they were sure enough holey themselves, shot full of holes and finished with fighting.”
“Oh my, that’s horrible,” Lora said.
“Indeed it was. Then, through the thick cloud of gun smoke, I saw Spradlin look over at me, to see if I wanted to try my luck. Now, I, being a man of sound mind and cleverer than most, decided right then and there I would seek other employment in a different part of the country.”
“I just can’t imagine Brother Spradlin could ever do something like that,” Lora observed.
Bob shrugged and turned to me.
“I was hoping you and I could talk for a minute.”
“Of course, but what’s so urgent it can’t wait till tomorrow?”
“It’s about the matter we discussed at some length last night.” He glanced toward Lora.
“Honey, would you bring Bob and me some coffee?”
Lora took the hint.
“This seems to be the day when I have to find busy work, so the men can talk,” she huffed, as she turned and left the room.
“Alright Bob, what’s up?”
“I’ve been all over town today, and I’m pretty sure our friends with a proclivity to rob banks have pulled out. I’m not certain they left, but I know that early this morning, someone bought three horses from the Mexican horse trader over by the fair grounds.”
“It seems like kind of slim evidence. Is it your theory they headed east?”
“There’s more. I learned four white men were sort of camped out in a place over on the other side of the tracks. One of those men was the one who bought the three horses this morning. He was a young fellow, perhaps twenty years of age. He rode in late last week, rented a house, and he was keeping his horse with the Mexican fella.”
“Where were these men staying?”
“There is an old woman over there that was willing to rent out her house for a few days while she went and stayed with her daughter and son in law—the very same horse trader to whom I previously referred. She was upset because her house is small, and she rented it to one man, but when she went by her house early this morning on the way to mass, there were four men in there. She said one night last week there had been five men in the house.”
“Hmmmmm, now that is a coincidence. How did you find out about all of this?”
“I told you, I spent the better part of a week trying to find young Homer Thorndyke. Money talks, and so did the old woman. She didn’t like those gringos at all. She described them to me, and the description fits our missing bandits.”
“Sounds about right. It explains why you couldn’t find your man. Did they get horses from the son-in law?
“They did indeed.”
“So they may have pulled out. They’re gone and so are the horses?”
“Gone, but not forgotten.”
“Well, that’s sort of good news. It’s a relief in a way. I’m glad they’re no longer here in Bear Creek.”
“They won’t go far, John. They still want you dead.”
We hadn’t heard Lora’s approach. “Who wants John dead?” she asked as she brought in a tray with coffee service on it.
Bob never missed a beat.
“Oh, you know, the usual assortment of crooked politicians, social climbers, riff raff, and jilted former lovers,” Bob said.
Lora turned on me, “Tell me the truth, John. Why is everybody avoiding talking to you in front of me? Are you in danger?”
“It just goes with the job, Baby. I didn’t want you to be upset by hearing about ugly aspects of the job.”
“What is it? What’s happened? Is it those Thorndyke brothers, the men who robbed the bank?”
“Yes. They’ve made some threats, but there’s no need to worry. Bob was just telling me they’ve left town, and are now headed for parts unknown.”
“Then you have to find them before they find you,” she said, crossing her arms and setting her jaw.
I looked at Bob, and he smugly raised his eyebrows.
“Why Lora, I think you are correct. Those men do pose a threat to John. We should pursue them. I believe they are desperate and dangerous men given to acts of violence. What do you think, John?” Bob asked, feigning innocent interest.
“Well, I think, at this point, we don’t have any idea where they may have gone.”
“Actually, that may not be quite the case,” Bob said.
“It doesn’t really matter. They have nearly a full day’s head start on us. It would take us some time to get organized and put together a posse. There’s no way we could pick up a trail tonight, even if we knew which way they went, and that’s assuming they all stayed together.” I said.
“Permit me to address some of those comments in the order in which you have presented them. First, it does indeed matter. If we can determine where they may have headed, we can go there and confront them. Second, there is no need to go about trying to organize a whole posse this afternoon. Third, we don’t need to try to track them at all. And, fourth, I believe they will all stay together.”
“What gives you that idea, Bob?”
“Which idea? They are all quite good ideas, and the rationale is above reproach.”
“Stop it,! Just tell me why you think you know
where they may have gone.”
“Well, John, I am a trained detective. I have become quite skilled at finding men who do not wish to be found. I have a keen intellect and the ability to arrive at reasonable conclusions based on deductive reasoning and assessment of the evidence at hand.”
“Yeah, Bob, you’re smarter than the average criminal. I’ll give you that. And you have both experience and skill at tracking down fugitives. But dammit, so do I!”
“Of course, you do. If you would but stop and think for a moment, I believe you would be able to work through the available information, examine the various possibilities, define the probabilities, and make a decision about a course of action. Really, you are so distracted these days.”
I considered beating the snot out of him right then and there, but I didn’t want to hurt my hands—and it was Sunday.
I guess Bob, using his great powers of observation, was able to deduce that I was pretty annoyed.
“Let me ask you this; if you were a desperado and you knew you couldn’t outrun the telegraph, and that every lawman within a hundred miles, to the north, south, or east was on the lookout for you; if you knew the local law would expect you to run to the east; if you knew you had to go somewhere where there was no real law, and where four rough men wouldn’t be noticed or be in the least out of place—if those things were true, but you still needed to be close enough to Bear Creek so you would be able to sneak back into town on any given night, where would you go?”
I was pretty sure I knew where he was trying to lead me, but I needed to challenge his thinking.
“I might head west, up into the mountains, but that would be better for just one man alone. A party of four would leave a clear trail and run through their supplies pretty quickly, especially if they couldn’t take much with them like that bunch had to do.”
Bob made a “move along” motion with his hand, indicating he had already considered those things.
“The best thing to do would be to split up and take off in four different directions, every man for himself.”