Violence of the Mountain Man

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Violence of the Mountain Man Page 19

by Johnstone, William W.


  “The women you brought in. Is one of them really Smoke Jensen’s wife?”

  Keno laughed. “Yeah, she’s Jensen’s wife,” he said. “Can you imagine that? Jensen’s wife in jail?”

  “Son of a bitch,” Laney said. “This is bad. This is really bad.”

  “Have you lost your mind?” Marshal Craig asked. “What the hell you are doin’ with her? And why did you bring her to my town and my jail? Do you really expect Smoke Jensen to pay a ransom for her?”

  “I’m not actually holding her for ransom,” Van Arndt said. “I mean, that’s what I thought I was goin’ to do when I took her, but the more I thought about it, the more I knew it wasn’t goin’ to work out. That’s when I come up with the other plan.”

  “What other plan?”

  “I’m usin’ Jensen’s wife as bait.”

  “What?”

  “You know what bait is, don’t you?” Van Arndt said. “You use bait to set a trap. Well, sir, that’s what I’ve done. I’ve set a trap for Jensen. Once he finds out I’ve got his wife, he’ll come for her.”

  “Oh, he’ll come for her all right. That is, if he knows you have her.”

  “He knows. I sent Peters to tell him that we are holding her for ransom.”

  “How did he react to that?”

  Van Arndt chuckled. “Most likely, Jensen killed Peters.”

  “What the hell, Reece, have you gone plumb loco? You’re doin’ all this just to kill Jensen?”

  “Yeah, but there’s more to it than just killin’ him. There’s also the money part of it.”

  “What money? And how much money are you talkin’ about?” Craig asked as he lifted the beer to his lips.

  “Oh, I’d say about a hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars,” Van Arndt said easily.

  Craig had just taken a swallow of his beer, and he suddenly spewed it out as he gasped.

  “What? Did you say a hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars?”

  “At least that much.”

  “All right, you’ve got my attention. Go on with your story.”

  “Jensen has one of the biggest ranches in the entire state. With him, his wife, and his two hands dead, there will be no one left behind at the ranch. I plan to move in and take over.”

  “Don’t be foolish,” Craig said. “You can’t steal a ranch.”

  “No, but we can cut out about five thousand head from his herd.”

  “You are absolutely loco. You’re just goin’ to steal five thousand head of cattle, are you? And do what with them?”

  “It’s after spring roundup,” Van Arndt said. “More than likely there are ten or fifteen big herds being moved, maybe more. One more big herd ain’t goin’ to arouse no suspicion at all. We’ll drive ’em up to Harney in Wyoming and sell them there. They’re paying twenty-five dollars a head. Five thousand head and twenty-five dollars a head, you figure it out for yourself.”

  “That is a lot of money,” Craig said, beginning to show a little interest in the plan. “But how are you going to get the cattle in the first place?”

  “He has thirty thousand head wandering all over fifteen thousand acres of grassland,” Van Arndt explained. “With Jensen, his wife, and his two hands gone, there won’t be nobody left at the ranch but a few old Mexicans, and they’ll be so confused by everything that they won’t know whether to pick their nose or scratch their ass. I’m telling you, there won’t be anyone left to keep an eye on things at Sugarloaf. We’ll have the cattle gone and sold before anyone misses them.”

  “Yeah, well, there is one little problem with your whole idea,” Craig said.

  “What is that?”

  “Smoke Jensen is a well-known man in these parts. Killin’ him is going to put ever’ lawman between Canada and Mexico on the hunt.”

  “No, there won’t be anyone lookin’ for us.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “At one time Jensen was a wanted man, and the whole state was plastered with wanted posters for him. Dead or alive. Am I right or wrong?”

  “You are right, but all those dodgers were pulled back a long time ago.”

  “Say there was somebody, a bounty hunter say, who come across one of those wanted posters and didn’t know that they had been pulled back? And suppose that bounty hunter kilt Jensen and the other members of his gang? Would that be murder? Or would that just be an awful mistake?”

  “Well, things like that have happened before. I recollect that a feller by the name of Flat Nose Parker was shot and killed by a bounty hunter after Parker had already be tried and found innocent. The bounty hunter wasn’t charged because the thing is, you can’t always be sure there ain’t no reward posters left out there,” Craig said.

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much what I was thinkin’,” Van Arndt said. “Do you have any old dodgers with Smoke Jensen’s name on them?”

  Craig stroked his cheek for a moment, then broke into a big smile. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do.”

  “Then who is to say that killin’ him isn’t an honest mistake by someone who didn’t know the paper had all been pulled?” Van Arndt asked.

  “Maybe,” Craig said.

  “Ha! It’s damn more than maybe, and you know it,” Van Arndt said. “You know the idea will work, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, it just might work at that,” Craig said. “By the way, Jerry said you had two women in the jail. Who’s the other one?”

  “Her name is Lucy Goodnature. She’s the daughter of Jensen’s neighbor.”

  “What do you have her for? That is just going to make things more complicated.”

  “I hadn’t planned on takin’ her,” Van Arndt said. “It just so happened that she was over at Smoke Jensen’s ranch, visitin’ when we showed up. I didn’t have no choice but to take her. But it’s worked out real good.”

  “How so?”

  “As long as we have her, Jensen’s wife ain’t goin’ to try and escape.”

  “Yeah, I see your point,” Craig said. He was silent for a moment, then he said, “Half.”

  “Half? Half of what? What are you talkin’ about?”

  “I want half the money,” Craig said.

  The smile left Van Arndt’s face. “What the hell makes you think I’m goin’ to give you half the money?”

  “You’ll give me half the money, or you’ll take the women somewhere else,” Craig said.

  “Now that ain’t no way fair, Harlan, and you know it,” Van Arndt said. “I mean, yeah, I’m countin’ on your help and I was plannin’ on cuttin’ you in on some of the money. But what the hell kind of way is that to treat your own brother, to ask for half like that?”

  “I’m your half brother,” Craig said. “When you think about, it seems only right to give half the money to your half brother,” he added, laughing at his own joke.

  “We may only be half brothers, but we have the same mama,” Van Arndt said.

  “Half the money,” Craig repeated.

  “I’m the one that took all the risks,” Van Arndt said.

  “What the hell are you talkin’ about?” Craig asked. “There ain’t been no risk took at all yet. The real risk don’t start until Jensen catches up with you. Then you are going to need me. Half the money.”

  “All right, half,” Van Arndt agreed. “But you damn sure better be there when I need you.”

  “I’ll be there,” Craig promised.

  Chapter Twenty

  Deputy Laney looked over at the table where Van Arndt and Craig were still engaged in conversation. “Van Arndt told me that the woman was lying, that she wasn’t Jensen’s wife. Why would he tell me that?”

  “Maybe he figured it was none of your business,” Boswell said.

  “I’m the one who put the women in jail,” Laney said. “That makes it my business.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t worry about it,” Jeeter said.

  “Why do you have them? What are you going to do with them?”

  “I tell you what
I’d like to do with the young one,” Jeeter said, rubbing himself, then laughing.

  “What do you mean the young one?” Boswell asked. “Jensen’s wife is just as good-lookin’. Hell, she might even be better-lookin’.”

  “Yeah, but she’s too damn feisty,” Jeeter said. “Messin’ around with her would be like tanglin’ with a mountain lion. No, sir, the young one for me.”

  “This here whiskey is makin’ me sick,” Keno said, butting into the conversation. “I’m goin’ out back to puke.”

  “Haw!” Jeeter said. “Some man you are!”

  Keno waved him off, then stumbled toward the back door.

  “What the hell is wrong with Keno?” Boswell asked.

  “Ah, don’t worry none about him,” Jeeter said. “I reckon he’s woke up in a puddle of his own puke more than once. Besides, with him gone, there’s more whiskey for us.”

  “You got that right,” Boswell said with a smile, holding his glass out for Jeeter to refill it.

  Again, Jeeter offered whiskey to the deputy, and again the deputy declined, preferring beer instead. The deputy continued to keep his eye the table where Marshal Craig and the strange-looking, very white man who was his brother were talking.

  “I wonder just what the hell they are talking about,” the deputy said.

  “Ha. Knowing Van Arndt, he’s done got his little brother twisted around his finger by now.”

  “Yeah,” Laney said. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Jeeter laughed. “You’re a funny one, you know that?”

  As soon as Keno reached the alley behind the saloon, he looked back toward the door to make sure that no one was following him. When he was certain he was alone, he smiled broadly and started quickly up the alley toward the jail.

  The whiskey had not really made him sick; he had merely used that as an excuse to get away from the others so he could do what he planned to do.

  When Keno reached the jail, he stepped inside and looked back toward the single cell. The two women were sitting on the same bed, talking quietly. They looked up when Keno came into the room.

  “Keno,” Sally said. Looking beyond him, she saw that nobody else was with him. “Where are the others?”

  “It don’t matter none where the others are,” Keno replied. “I don’t need them to take care of my business.”

  “To take care of your business? What business would that be?” Sally asked.

  “I tell you what, Sally, whatever my business is, it ain’t nothin’ you need be a’worryin’ none about it,” Keno said. “Fact is, what I got to take care of don’t have nothin’ to do with you.”

  Keno walked over to the wall and took the key down from the hook. Stepping up to the cell, he held the key up and smiled at Lucy.

  “This is the little lady I’ll be dealin’ with. Tell me, Lucy, do you remember when you wouldn’t dance with me at the dance?” he asked.

  Lucy didn’t respond.

  “Oh, I’m sure you remember,” Keno said. “I asked you just real nice to dance with me, but bein’ as you are the daughter of a rich rancher and me bein’ only a cowboy, you wouldn’t have nothin’ to do with me.”

  “You aren’t a cowboy,” Lucy said. “Cowboys are honorable men. You are nothing but an outlaw. And I believe I told you that I didn’t want to dance with you because I don’t like you.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, here’s the thing, girlie. You’re goin’ to dance with me now, only it ain’t exactly goin’ to be dancin’ if you get my meanin’.” Keno laughed a low, guttural laugh. “Yes, ma’am, me an’ you is goin’ to have us some fun.”

  Keno stuck the key into the lock; then, pulling his pistol, he opened the door to the cell and stepped inside.

  “Does Van Arndt know you are here?” Sally asked.

  Keno turned his pistol toward Sally. “It ain’t none of your concern whether Van Arndt knows I’m here or not,” he said. “What I want you to do is stand over there up against them bars. If I see you so much as move one inch, I’ll kill this girl and have my fun with you.”

  Obeying Keno’s instructions, Sally stepped up against the bars right alongside the open cell door.

  “That’s more like it,” Keno said.

  When Lucy saw Keno coming toward her, her fear became palpable, and she felt a bile in her throat. “No,” she said in a choked voice. “No, please don’t. Van Arndt said I was for insurance.”

  “Hell, honey, he just said that ’cause he wanted first crack at you hisself, that’s all. Only thing is, I figure on takin’ my turn with you before anyone else.”

  “No,” Lucy whimpered. “Please, no.”

  Lucy squeezed her eyes shut, trying unsuccessfully to prevent the tears from sliding down her cheeks. Her entreaties fell upon deaf ears, however, for she felt him approaching, then smelled his foul breath and body stench as he reached for her.

  “Go ahead and cry if you want to, girlie,” Keno said. “I like it when you cry.”

  Behind Keno’s back, Sally tore off a piece cloth from her dress, then stuffed it into the lock plate of the cell door opening.

  “Step outside,” Keno said, waving with his pistol. Turning his head, he saw Sally standing very still by the bars. “Well, aren’t you being a good girl now?” he asked.

  Whimpering, and shivering with fright, Lucy stepped through the open door. Keno closed the cell door, turned the key in the lock, then hung the key back on the wall hook.

  “I’ll tell you what, Sally, you can watch us,” Keno said, tossing the remark over his shoulder. “Maybe you’ll learn a trick or two you can teach Smoke.” Keno laughed, then pushed Lucy over to the desk. “Bend over that desk, girl,” he said. “Me and you is goin’ to have us a fine time.”

  When Lucy hesitated, Keno spoke more harshly. “Damn you, I told you to lean over.” He pushed her belly-down over the desk, then hiked her dress up over her waist.

  “Yes, sir, this is goin’ to be fine,” Keno said.

  Behind Keno, and unnoticed by him, Sally took a pin from her hair and stuck it in between the door lock and the lock plate. As she had hoped, the cloth she had stuffed into the lock plate had prevented the bolt from seating. She was able to push it back with the hair pin. Then, slowly, she opened the door.

  Keno, who had been holding his pistol up to this point, now put it down on the desk so he could free both hands. He started to unbuckle his belt.

  Sally stepped out of the cell and, walking very quietly, moved up behind him. She reached out and picked up his pistol, then, holding it by the barrel, brought the pistol butt down hard on the back of Keno’s head.

  Keno fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

  “Oh!” Lucy said aloud.

  “Lucy, stand up,” Sally said. “You’re all right, he didn’t get a chance to do anything. Stand up and help me get him into the cell,” Sally said.

  Lucy, who had closed her eyes to what she thought was inevitable, heard Sally’s voice just behind her. With a gasp of surprised joy, she stood up and turned around.

  “Sally! How did you—”

  “No time to explain now,” Sally said. She pointed to one of Keno’s legs. “Grab hold.”

  With one on each leg, the two women dragged Keno across the floor and into the cell. Then, using the same hairpin, Sally removed the cloth she had used to jam up the lock plate. Closing the cell door, she locked it, then handed the key to Lucy.

  “Hang on to that. We’ll take the key with us,” Sally said. “There is no sense in making it easy for them to get him out.”

  “They probably have another key,” Lucy suggested.

  “You’re right,” Sally said. She jerked open the middle drawer of the desk, then smiled and picked up a key. “Here it is. Let’s go.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “The same way we came,” Sally answered. “I’m sure Smoke has been following us. He can’t be too far behind. We’ll catch up with him, then we’ll be safe.”

  Lucy started toward the front
door.

  “No, not that way, we might be seen leaving. We’ll go out the back.”

  When the two went outside, Lucy turned up her nose. “Oh, what is that awful smell?” she asked.

  Looking around, Sally saw an outhouse just across the alley. She chuckled. “Give me the keys.”

  Taking the keys from Lucy, Sally opened the door to the outhouse, then dropped them down into the hole. When she turned back, she saw a huge smile spread across Lucy’s face.

  “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile since we left,” Sally said. “It’s good to see it.”

  Lucy’s smile turned into a chuckle. “There hasn’t really been anything to smile about until now, but I have to admit”—she pointed toward the outhouse—“dropping the keys down there is funny.”

  “Come on, our horses are in a stable back here,” Sally said.

  “How do you know?”

  “I was looking through the back window when I saw them put away.”

  “You’ve just put your finger on the biggest difference between us, Sally,” Lucy said. “Here I was, crying and feeling sorry for myself, while all along you were figuring ways for us to escape. I saw you pick the piece of material out from the lock. You put that in there, didn’t you? That was how you were able to get out of the cell once he locked you in.”

  “Yes,” Sally said. She peeked into the stable. “Here they are. Can you saddle your own horse?”

  Lucy chuckled. “I know I haven’t made a very good impression so far,” she said. “But I’m not totally hopeless. Yes, I can saddle my own horse.”

  “Then let’s do it and get out of here,” Sally suggested as she spread the blanket across the back of her mount.

  The two women worked quickly and quietly, their efforts illuminated only by the moon that splashed a pool of silver light in through the large stable window.

  When both horses were saddled, Sally held her finger across her lips to suggest quiet. Then she led her horse out into the alley. Lucy followed until they reached the end of the alley. Then they mounted their horses and rode off into the dark.

  “What the hell are you doing in the jail cell?” Van Arndt asked in a loud and angry voice when he and the others returned to the jail.

 

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