by Dan Arnold
“Aside from Bob and me, there are only six people in this town who know you’re still alive. Every one of them is in this house. Mrs. Poole will keep your secret and I imagine she can get the others to agree to the plan as well. Other than Ophelia, everyone will be moving on to Denver, where they can spread the word that Wes Spradlin died after being shot in a saloon up at North Fork.”
Maybe Wes was crying, or maybe his eyes were just watering from all the gun smoke of the previous evening.
“Adios, Wes,” I said.
I turned to leave the room.
“Wait, John,” he said. “Do you see it? The old man is dead to sin and the new man is born again. I had no idea how I could put the old life behind me and really get on with my new life in Christ. I was carrying too much baggage and too many people wanted to see me fall. This is a chance, John, a real chance. How can I ever thank you?”
I shrugged. “You took up the gun again to help me. I expect I would be dead if you hadn’t. I feel pretty bad about it. So, please, Wes, don’t thank me. Thank God.”
I stepped out of the room and pulled the door closed.
***
I found Mrs. Poole waiting for me down in the foyer.
“Mrs. Poole, the man upstairs has some things he wants to talk to you about. He has some interesting news. Please accept my apologies for complicating your life in this way. I can’t thank you enough for your kindness and generous hospitality…”
She interrupted, holding up a hand.
“Sheriff, the ‘Man Upstairs’ has been trying to talk to me for years. Here lately, I’ve been listening to Him more than ever before.”
She smiled.
“Yes, ma’am, I take your meaning. Anyway, speaking personally and on behalf of the Sheriff’s department, I thank you very much. Bob and I will be leaving now. You let me know if you need any help with anything in the next few days, or with the move.”
She walked over and retrieved my hat from the coat rack.
“Oh my, Sheriff, I’m afraid there is a bullet hole in this as well.”
She held it up so I could see the hole through the brim.
“That was nearly a new hat,” I grumbled. “Oh well, better the hat than the head. I guess.”
“Indeed, much better. Please be careful, Sheriff,” she said, by way of farewell.
I limped outside and stood on the porch for a moment.
It was a beautiful, high-mountain morning with just a hint of autumn’s crispness in it. Though it was August and still summertime, at this altitude autumn was already beginning in North Fork. The Aspen leaves were starting to yellow. Soon they would be golden, and shortly later the snow would fall.
I saw Bob coming along the lane with the buggy. I noticed his horse wasn’t tied behind it.
***
Bob and I walked into the Jubilee House looking for Sheriff Tommy Turner.
“He’s in his office,” the bartender said, pointing to the door near the back of the building.
We found Tommy sitting at the round table in his office. He was finishing the affidavit of facts and listing the names of those killed in the gun battle the night before. He was just finishing the list of those killed or wounded in the shooting.
“Good morning, Sheriff Sage. You’re looking none the worse for wear this morning.”
He nodded at Bob, by way of greeting.
“I’m just finishing this up.”
“Tommy, let me see the affidavit before you sign it.”
“Well sure, here you go,” he said, spinning it around on the table top.
“You know, you were damn lucky everyone you killed last night had either been wanted or had fired on you; both I guess. There could’ve been innocent bystanders killed. You’ll read in there where I mentioned some of the innocents were wounded.”
“Tommy, there wasn’t anybody in that saloon who could have been called an ‘Innocent,’” Bob said.
“Maybe, but I meant people who were not involved in the shooting,”
“You mention here that Ian McGregger was seriously injured.” I said.
“Yeah, well, he was. He was shot in the hand. Lost his pointer finger and his right hand is pretty badly mutilated.”
“He was shooting at me at the time,” I said.
“He claims he wasn’t.”
“He was.”
“That is correct. Indeed, I saw him fire a number of shots. I would have disposed of the man myself, but I was otherwise occupied at the time,” Bob said.
Tommy shrugged
“He says he wasn’t.”
“There’s another thing you failed to mention here,” I said, tapping the paper.
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“Wes Spradlin died as a result of wounds he received in the gun battle.”
I saw Bob give a little involuntary jerk. He glanced at me with some evident approval.
“Oh, I didn’t know for sure. I saw that big black feller carry him off to Aphrodite’s Bower. He died, huh?”
I nodded, sadly.
“Oh sorry, was Spradlin a friend of yours?”
I shrugged.
“We just met recently. One of the single most dangerous men I’ve ever met. It wouldn’t be good to be on the wrong side of Wes Spradlin. But, he was shot down by ‘Point Blank’ Peterson, you know.”
I watched Tommy’s face light up.
“Now that is something. Two top guns, killed right here in North Fork—how about that?”
“It’s not something to be proud of, Tommy.”
“Maybe not, but it will put us on the map for a while. Just think of it, ‘Point Blank’ Peterson and Wes Spradlin killing each other in a shootout. People will talk about it for years!”
I shrugged, again.
“Don’t you think you’d better write it into the affidavit?”
“Yep, I’m on it,” he said, spinning the paper back around. He scribbled away for a while.
“Don’t forget to mention that McGregger fired on peace officers in his saloon,” Bob said.
“He says he didn’t.”
“Tommy, you have called me a liar for the last time.” Bob said, coldly.
Tommy froze, is eyes as big as saucers.
“Oh, uh, well, no I, uh, it’s just that, uh—I have conflicting stories.”
“No, you do not. Write it down, now.
Tommy looked at me.
“I’ll tell you how this is going to work, Tommy,” I began. “When you finish writing, we’ll walk over to the post office and get this Affidavit and Statement of Facts witnessed by the Post Master and one other person, while you sign it. Then, you’re going to make a big sign which says ‘CLOSED BY ORDER OF THE COUNTY SHERIFF,’ and you’re going to nail it up on the Gold Dust Hotel and Casino.
If there are any employees or guests still on the premises, they are to be evicted. I’m sending a deputy sheriff up here tonight or tomorrow to make sure you did it. If not, he will arrest you for obstruction of justice and drag you back to Bear Creek in irons. Then I will come up here with a posse and burn your place to the ground, along with the Gold Dust, and we’ll tear down the Oxbow in the process. I’ll be back here and you’ll be in jail and out of business. Do you have any questions or comments?”
“Well, what about Ian McGregger? He won’t like it. He’ll be mad as hell in fact.”
I shook my head. I thought Tommy had more sense.
“Where is he? We’ll take it up with him, right now.” I said.
“I heard someone took him down to Bear Creek last night, to get his hand doctored.”
I slapped the top of the table.
“Okay, then, you won’t have a problem with him today. Stand up and start acting like a lawman. As long as I have your cooperation, I will stand by the terms of our agreement. You have the rest of the thirty days to get this town in order. I expect we’ve given you a pretty good head start.”
He thought about it for a moment.
“Yeah, all right I can do that,” he nodded.
>
“You can, and you will, or you won’t believe what happens to you and this town in the next twenty four hours,”
He looked some put out.
“Okay, I said I’ll do it.”
“Good decision, now finish writing this affidavit.”
***
After the affidavit was signed by Tommy, me, and two witnesses, we walked back over to the Jubilee House.
“Well, Tommy, I hope I won’t have occasion to see you again anytime soon.”
“Yeah, me too,” he agreed.
“You’ll be meeting my deputy, like I said, tonight or tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I can hardly wait,” he growled.
“And, there’s another fella you’ll be meeting soon. There’s a preacher coming here to start a church. I don’t know his name, but I suspect he’ll look familiar to you. I expect you to give him your full support. There’d better not be one bit of trouble with him, or I’ll hear about it.”
“Shoot, that’s no problem. Fact is there’s been considerable talk about getting a church going up here. I’m not opposed to it at all,” he said, brightly.
I grinned at him.
“That’s good to know, Tommy, really good to know.”
Bob was trying hard, and failing, to hide his smile.
37.
Bob’s big black horse was tied at the hitching rail outside Tommy’s Jubilee House. He walked over and got him, while I carefully climbed back into the buggy. He mounted the black and I slapped the reins on the back of the buggy horse. We started down the road for Bear Creek.
We rode along in silence for a few minutes, until Bob spoke up.
”That was an interesting turn of events. I admit, I never saw it coming. Don’t get me wrong now. I held little hope there would not be gun play, although I knew you wanted to avoid it. Still the outcome of this little adventure has been, for lack of a better word, enlightening,”
I considered his choice of words.
“I’ll admit I never anticipated you would have resigned your appointment as deputy sheriff.”
“Ah, well, there is more than one way to skin a cat. I knew there would probably be an opportunity to reap some reward from the trip up here.”
“I would’ve considered just finding and arresting the Thorndykes to be reward enough,” I said.
Bob looked at me.
“Yes, you would. You see, that is the difference between us.”
I chuckled.
“Well, Bob, it’s one of them.”
He nodded.
“The problem is you fail to grasp the simplicity of the Darwinian concept of survival of the fittest. You see, Mr. Darwin has explained there are inferior and superior strains in all aspects of biological life. The stronger prevail over the weaker. It’s the natural order, my friend.”
“I’m familiar with the theory.”
“Well then, you must be aware criminals are by their very nature inferior humans and it follows that we being superior humans should prevail. In fact by removing the inferior criminal element we are improving the breed. It’s rather the same principle as culling the herd.”
I looked over at him.
“That is unmitigated horse shit, Bob.”
He looked offended.
“In what way?”
“In several ways; the first is that human beings were created by God. We are not descended from apes, lizards, fish, or pond slime. I’m aware you don’t believe it, but that’s the way I see it..
Second; all people everywhere suffer from the same inferior imperfection. It’s called sin, Bob. It is the way we are, naturally. You have it, I have it, and everyone everywhere has it. It’s a fatal disease, and no one of us is superior to others; we are only different in the ways we manifest our sinful nature.
Third; the things we tend to think make someone superior—strength, height, speed, appearance, or even seeming intelligence—are relative as to whether or not they contribute to superiority and generally comparative within the context of a given time, place, and circumstance. What seems superior in one situation may be inferior in another.
For example, there are times and places when strength is inferior to speed, or speed is inferior to appearance, or appearance is inferior to intelligence, if you follow me.
Seldom does any individual have all of the attributes you might think are superior. Even those who do seem to have them are still flawed by their sinful nature.
Fourth; there is no proof people who commit crimes are somehow inferior human beings.
Fifth; the notion the strong have the natural right to eliminate the weak, for any reason whatsoever, is horribly wrong and a clear example of a different manifestation of the same exact sin nature I alluded to earlier. If a person thinks they are superior to someone else, they are morally flawed.”
Bob smirked.
“Oh, well, my mistake. I might have expected you to be a bit backwards on this subject. You observe life through a religious lens. Science trumps religion every time though, John. Sorry, but it does.”
I shook my head.
“Bob, you draw that word ‘Science’ as if you were drawing a gun. As if the mere use of the word ‘Science’ settled a matter. Remember what the word ‘science’ means. Science is the study of creation. Study, involves observation and experimentation, to form theories, not conclusions. Charles Darwin simply expounded a theory based on his personal observations. A theory is not a fact.”
“Perhaps we should discuss something other than evolution.” Bob suggested.
I grinned.
“I think you mean something other than the Darwinian theory of evolution.”
He just frowned.
Bob gets frustrated, sometimes.
He changed the subject.
“Did you observe, as I did, a certain connection between Emma and Wes?”
I nodded in agreement.
“Well, they do have some history.”
“Rather unseemly behavior for a preacher, don’t you think?” Bob asked.
“I don’t think so. Wes was a different man when he knew her in the past. They hadn’t seen each other for more than a decade. I observed you have some familiarity with Mrs. Poole yourself.”
Bob shrugged, in acceptance.
“Indeed, however our relationship has been purely professional.”
“Hmmm, now how exactly do you mean that, Bob?”
He chuckled as he considered the implications.
“I first met Emma in Missouri, right after the war, when I was working as a Pinkerton agent. She was Emma Rafferty then, having not yet met Frank Poole. In her line of work, she was in a position to meet a variety of people without anyone paying much attention. She listened and learned things useful to me, and I was able to gather the information without drawing undue suspicion on either of us. It was a good business arrangement. She gathered intelligence on suspects for which I was willing to pay. We have continued that relationship on occasion over the years.”
I nodded.
I’d suspected something of the kind.
“I suppose it was she who first gave you the tip on how to locate the Thorndykes,” I said.
Bob gave me an innocent look.
“I never reveal my sources, John.”
“Good policy,” I observed.
We rode along in silence for a while.
“Bob, I have to say I’m pleasantly surprised by your generosity in collecting the reward money on Andrew Peterson, so Wes can build a church,”
He considered his response.
“I am not completely without character, John. I told Wes I intended to collect the reward on Martin Pogue, Zach Sherman, and Smiley Burnett. I didn’t know for sure whether Sherman and Burnett were among the dead until I talked to Tommy Turner this morning. Finding them in the saloon was exactly the sort of windfall I had hoped for. It’s the reason I resigned from the sheriff’s department.
Wes thought about it for a while, He was the one who pointed out the fact Peterson
was wanted and Tom Russel was just a name he was using. Five thousand dollars is a lot of money. Wes indicated he couldn’t collect the reward for personal reasons, but he wanted something good to come from the whole hideous affair. He suggested I should collect the reward for Peterson, as well as the others.”
“It must’ve been tempting, didn’t you think about just keeping the money?” I asked.
Bob chuckled.
“Oh, yes. Five thousand dollars is nearly five years of salary, if I’m working for you. At first I was quite tempted, but considering Pogue, Sherman, and Burnett together will bring me that much, I decided a fifty/fifty split would be more equitable.”
I looked at him.
“Especially when you consider the fact Wes probably saved both of our lives, Bob,”
“Yes, I did consider that.”
“How did you arrive at the idea of building a church?”
“I told Wes I wanted something good to come out of this as well. I asked him if he could think of a good use for the money.”
“Well however you worked it out, I’m proud of you.”
Bob was silent for a moment. Then he spoke up.
“I think I will come out ahead in this deal yet, John.”
“Oh, in what way?”
“I plan to collect the reward on Homer Thorndyke as an added bonus. I’m free to do it now, and I expect the price on his head will go up.”
I’d been thinking about Homer myself. Where was he? Why hadn’t we found him in North Fork?
“Have you got any idea where to start looking for him?”
Bob shook his head.
“Not this morning, but I will pick up his trail in due course. I expect he won’t run very far.”
“Why is that?”
“Really, John, it’s elementary. Have you no skill at recognizing the obvious. He won’t go far because you are still alive. He’ll want to kill you now, more than ever.”
38.
As we approached the bridge over Bear Creek, my house on the edge of town came in to view. I could just barely see the kids playing in the yard.
“Bob, I have to stop at the house for a little while. Then, I need to go on into town. I want to talk to Doctor Johnson, and I need to get this affidavit recorded in the courthouse. I don’t think I can make the walk back and forth. I’ll need to use the buggy, but when I’m done with it, it has to go back to the parsonage.”