by J. T. Edson
‘Here comes the law!’ Plunkett put in, seeing badges glinting on the jackets of two armed men among the crowd who were running from between various buildings. Helped by his knowledge of Surbiton’s population, he guessed the identity of the seeker after vengeance. Therefore, he was eager to discover what had happened and willing to help her if, as his every instinct suggested, she was speaking the truth. ‘Leave me do the talking and go along with what I say.’
Three – You’ll Never Be Safe Anywhere In Missouri
‘Well, we’ve got that cleared up,’ Horace ‘Pug’ Brackley declared, returning to the sitting room of the boarding house in which he and his Troupe Of International Lady Wrestlers were staying as the only guests. His gaze flickered from the other male and single female occupants as he joined them at the table, continuing, ‘And it’s all thanks to you, Doc.’
‘Shucks,’ Doctor Oswald Plunkett answered, giving a mock self-depreciatory shrug. ‘It was all done by kindness and just bending the truth a mite.’
Although only half an hour had passed since the shooting, much had happened!
However, some of the events which had just been concluded had commenced shortly before that!
After Becky Ingraham had received the promised payment for her participation in the bout and had been escorted from the Journey West Saloon by ‘Lady Lavinia of Sheffield, England’, Brackley had gone in search of the men she had mentioned and of whom he believed she had reason to be afraid. Remembering having noticed her staring in alarm at the pair he now suspected just before she was thrown backwards from the ropes, failing to break her fall correctly, he had been worried when finding they were no longer at the table they had occupied. One of the other spectators at it had told him they left the barroom shortly after she was carried from the ring.
Telling Percy Pulbright and Sidney Colkiss to keep things going in his absence, Brackley had confided his misgivings to the doctor and they had set off to find out whether the girl was in any danger from the pair. Arriving at the outbuilding behind the rooming house and discovering she had already taken her departure, the sound of the shooting had caused the former wrestler and the doctor to go and investigate. They had been accompanied by Lady Lavinia, who was so alarmed on learning why they had come from the saloon while a bout was in progress that she had not waited to don more than her cloak over her underclothes. Having reached the scene of the incident before the two deputies belonging to the town marshal’s office, who were also brought there by the shooting, they had learned enough to realize that Becky would almost certainly have need of their help. Although for different reasons, each of the men had been willing to supply it.
Realizing Plunkett was best suited for the task, Brackley and the others had accepted his advice and allowed him to do most of the talking!
It had soon become apparent that the peace officers had sufficient liking and respect for the doctor to allow themselves to be influenced, even guided, by him. Neither had argued when he pointed out that Becky was still not fully recovered from the strenuous bout of wrestling and had just been through a very trying experience and suggested the senior of them left the other with the corpses and questioned her in the privacy of the rooming house.
Before the suggestion could be put into effect, there had been a bad moment for the girl. Learning they were strangers to the man who had killed them, the older deputy had set about trying to discover the identity of her assailants without asking whether she knew them. However, she had had no cause for serious alarm. Despite what Milton Shipley had told her, a search of their pockets had not produced anything to even suggest where they had come from, much less indicate they might have been temporarily appointed to carry out an assignment in behalf of the town constable at Surbiton. Prompted by the doctor, who had pointed out how villainous they looked, the senior peace officer had stated a belief they were a couple of the worst kind of visitors attracted to the town and had paid a well deserved penalty for having tried to force unwanted attentions upon a young ‘good’ woman.
On arriving in the sitting room of the boarding house, its owners and all the other occupants being absent for various reasons, Plunkett had continued to do most of the talking.
When discussing the affair later, Brackley frequently claimed it could not have been, handled better!
What Plunkett had told the deputy was basically the truth.
The doctor had begun by explaining how the two men had accosted Becky and, when James Butler Hickok came to her assistance, had reacted in such a hostile fashion he was left with no alternative but to kill them. Due to St. Joseph being a major staging point for wagon trains and other kinds of travelers between the East and the Western frontier country, gunfights were sufficiently frequent for members of the town marshal’s office to know what to look for when one occurred. As each dead man had completed the drawing of his weapon, even though neither was allowed time to get off a shot, the peace officer had asserted it was his opinion that their killer—who was clearly known to him as well as the doctor xi —had acted in justifiable self defense.
Furthermore, on raising the question of her presence, the deputy had accepted Plunkett’s explanation that Becky had come to St. Joseph on vacation from an unspecified town elsewhere in Missouri and belonged to a good family. They would, the doctor had elaborated, suffer considerable embarrassment should it become known to the other members of their community that she had succumbed to an impulsive whim and engaged in a wrestling bout at a saloon; which, in turn, had resulted in her inadvertently becoming involved in the shooting.
Such was the trust in which Plunkett was held by the lawman, his version of the facts was accepted. Becky had not even been asked for her name and address. Instead, drawing the required conclusions from the doctor’s suggestion of influential connections who would not wish for her to be connected with a killing under such circumstances as apparently prevailed, the deputy had promised he would put in a report which would preclude her from needing to appear at any ‘hearing’ held on the matter. Then, ascertaining that Hickok would be remaining in St. Joseph for a few days, and where, he had taken his departure.
After the peace officer left, responding to a hint from Plunkett, Lady Lavinia had offered to take Becky’s rescuer to the Journey West Saloon where they would be in time to see the final bout of the evening and was accepted. As soon as she had changed into suitable attire, she and Hickok had taken their departure. Asking the girl to wait, in a manner which warned she must do so, Brackley had seen them off the premises. Coming back into the sitting room, despite the apparently light-hearted comments which had passed between him and the doctor, Becky had known there was something much more serious to come.
The supposition was quickly proven correct!
‘Thank you both for all you’ve done,’ Becky said, looking from one man to the other.
‘You’re welcome,’ Plunkett replied, from the chair he was occupying at the table opposite where the girl was seated. Then, his manner changing subtly to imply he was getting down to important business, he continued, ‘Now Pug and I want to know all about you.’
‘Yes, “Miss Ingraham”,’ Brackley supported, the way in which he said the name indicating he knew it was an alias. ‘We do.’
‘You have to understand our position,’ the doctor continued, his manner gentle. ‘We’ve saved you from being asked some questions I’m sure you’d rather not have answered. Which could prove embarrassing, to say the least for us. Which being, we want to know exactly what kind of trouble you’re in. That way, we’ll not only know where we stand, but can figure out how much more help you’re likely to need.’
‘I’m very grateful for all you’ve done already,’ the girl stated. ‘But I’d rather you didn’t take the chance of doing anything more.’
‘I don’t know about Pug,’ Plunkett asserted. ‘But I don’t like Robert Clay—!’
‘You know him?’ Becky gasped.
‘We’ve met and I don’t like him, or anything he and h
is liber-radical soft-shell bunch stand for,’ the doctor declared, remembering the hurriedly changed reference which the girl had made about the man in question before the deputies came on the scene. ‘And, as he’s mixed in this from what you’ve said so far, I’m willing to take cards myself. So tell us about everything else, then we’ll decide whether we need to know your real name.’
‘Very well,’ the girl assented, accepting she owed the two men an explanation. What was more, knowing the affair was far from over even if the local peace officers did not take it any further as far as she was concerned, she felt sure they would give her sound advice should she be frank with them. ‘Firstly, as you’ve guessed, my name isn't Becky Ingraham—’
‘And, like Doc told you,’ Brackley interrupted. ‘We’ll let you know if we want to be told who you really are. There’s one thing I would like to know, though.’
‘What is it?’
‘Who taught you how to wrestle the way you can?’
‘My poppa,’ Becky replied. ‘I told you I was a tomboy as a child. Well, he was a good wrestler and, as momma couldn’t give him the son he wanted, he taught me some of his tricks.’
‘You learned good,’ Brackley praised.
‘That’s what brought me here,’ the girl answered and shuddered at the recollection aroused by the words.
Sucking in a deep breath, she went on, ‘I grew up in the back country near—!’
‘Don’t tell us anything that could help me to find out things about you I’d rather not know,’ Plunkett requested. ‘That way, I won’t be able to give you away should I be asked.’
‘As you wish, sir,’ Becky accepted. ‘Well, although I grew up and ran a mite wild in the country, momma managed to force enough book-learning on me so I could get work as a schoolteacher in Surbiton after she and poppa were killed in a bad storm. Hoping you don’t think I’m bragging, but I was pretty good at it. After the children found out I hadn’t forgotten what I learned from poppa, we got on just fine and I decided this was the kind of life I wanted to lead. Then Vernon Clay came back from college in the East and brought a friend with him. With his father’s help, they were both hired as teachers.’
‘Robert Clay’s got a whole heap of say around there,’ the doctor informed Brackley, as the girl paused, then swung his gaze back to her. ‘Although I’d have thought he’d have wanted something better for his boy than teaching in a small place like Surbiton.’
‘Could be that’s the best he figured the boy was capable of?’ the former wrestler suggested.
‘Could be,’ Plunkett conceded, thinking the conclusion was probably correct. ‘No matter why, though, he’d only have to pass the word for them to be taken on and they would be.’
‘Yes!’ the girl said shortly.
‘I get the feeling you didn’t reckon they was much shucks as teachers, Miss Ingraham,’ Brackley remarked, eager to hear the rest of the story.
‘I didn’t,’ Becky confirmed vehemently. ‘And it wasn’t just because they took a dislike to me from the start. I didn’t like the way they went about their teaching. Instead of giving their classes the lessons they were supposed to be, they spent their time talking about how wrong it is for some folks to be rich and others poor, or explaining about Abolition and how bad rotten all Southrons are for opposing it.’
‘I’ve heard their kind!’ Plunkett rumbled, his face taking on grim and bitter lines. ‘God damn it, Pug, they always use the same kind of talk to try and get the poor folks ready to vote their way and, figuring it’ll serve their ends, they won’t rest until they’ve stirred up real bad trouble between the North and the South. ’
‘I can see it coming like you do,’ Brackley replied, in an equally somber fashion. ‘And, when it blows up, folks favoring both sides in Missouri and Kansas’ll be the first to get to shooting. That’s why I’m taking the Troupe down through Arkansas to Texas. I don’t hold with slavery, but I’m a Southron and that’ll make the girls likely to be picked on by Abolitionists as well as me if we stay north of the Mason-Dixon line.’
‘It will,’ the doctor conceded. ‘Like the soft-shells, there’s getting some real bad scum taking up as Abolitionists for what they figure’ll come their way out of it. Anyways, Miss Ingraham, was it what they was teaching what stirred up the fuss between you and young Clay?’
‘Not directly,’ Becky replied. ‘Like I said, the two of them took a dislike to me right from the start, but that didn’t bother me. What caused the trouble was—well, how he and his friend tried to treat two boys. I was going by the schoolhouse late one afternoon and saw the side door was open, so went to shut it. Then I heard voices and, as there shouldn’t have been anybody inside, went to find out who it was—!’
‘Go on! ’ Plunkett encouraged gently.
‘Vernon Clay and his friend had two of the older boys bent across desks,’ the girl obliged, moving restlessly on her chair and showing distaste at the disclosure she was making. ‘With their trousers down—!’
‘I’ve heard tell schoolteachers having that done when they’re figuring on using a switch to punish misbehaving,’ the doctor remarked, as the explanation trailed to an end once more.
‘It wasn’t a switch they were meaning to use,’ Becky corrected, her face reddening in a blush. Gesturing in the appropriate direction, she went on hesitantly, ‘They had the front of their trousers unfastened and—!’
‘I can guess!’ Plunkett growled, having suspected what was taking place in the classroom despite his previous comment. ‘A lot of soft-shells are so inclined. What happened then?’
‘I went in and told the boys to haul up their trousers and go home,’ the girl explained, keeping her head lowered so she did not have to meet the gaze of her audience. ‘Which they right quickly did. After they’d gone, Vernon Clay started yelling like a crazy man that he was going to teach me not to interfere in his affairs and came at me. The look on his face frightened me, so I ducked my head and charged him in the chest. It sent him backwards over a desk and his friend ran across to look at him, then shouted his neck was broken and I’d killed him.’
‘Was it broken?’ the doctor asked.
‘I didn’t look,’ Becky replied. ‘But he had fallen heavily and, hearing what his friend said, I just turned and ran.’
‘What did the constable say when you told him how it happened?’ Plunkett inquired, although he could guess the answer.
‘I didn’t wait to see him,’ the girl admitted. ‘He’s Robert Clay’s man, body and soul. Which being, I knew he wouldn’t believe anything I said. And I also could imagine what chance I would have of being given a fair hearing if I was brought to trial for the killing, so I decided my only hope was to get away before I could be arrested. Luckily, I enjoy riding and kept a horse at the livery stable. So I bundled up some of my clothes, the month’s pay which I’d collected that afternoon and the other money I had in my room, went and got him and started running. When I got to—!’
‘No names of towns!’ the doctor reminded.
‘A nearby town,’ Becky amended, ‘I went in on foot and bought a boy’s hat, jacket, shirt, pants and boots. Dressed that way, I managed to pass without attracting too much attention until I arrived here in St. Jo. On the way, I’d decided to try to get on a wagon train heading West. Knowing I’d need extra money, I sold the horse and—well, you know the rest.’
‘Not all of it,’ Brackley denied. ‘Or didn’t Annie— Lady Lavinia—tell you I’d like to have you join the Troupe?’
‘She did,’ the girl confirmed, managing a weak smile. ‘And she told me her real name is Annie Tolcher.’
‘And you weren’t interested?’
‘I was, but I didn’t think it would be fair to you if I did after having been seen by Shipley and Archer.’
‘Why not?’
‘They work for Mr. Clay—!’ Becky commenced.
‘So you’ve told us,’ Brackley replied. ‘I didn’t meet him when the Troupe was in Surbiton.’
‘Th
en you probably don’t know him, but I do.’ Becky countered. ‘And, going by all I heard about him after I went to live in Surbiton, I felt sure he’d want me arrested for what I did to his son. But, unless I’m wrong, he wants more than just that.’
‘How do you mean?’ Plunkett asked, remembering other comments the girl had made suggesting much the same.
‘From what they said,’ Becky explained. ‘Although Shipley tried to make me believe they’d been deputized by the constable to take me back, I think they’d really been told to kill me when they found me.’
‘You could be right,’ Brackley admitted. ‘I don’t reckon he’d want what you caught his son doing being told in even the Surbiton courthouse.’
‘That’s for sure,’ the doctor agreed, then he frowned. ‘How long ago did it happen?’
‘Twelve days,’ Becky replied.
‘Twelve days, huh?’ Plunkett said, thinking of the distance to Surbiton. ‘It wouldn’t take you that long to get here. Did you go to try to get help from your kinfolks?’
‘No, 1 don’t have any in Missouri and I didn’t want to get any of momma and poppa’s friends mixed up in it,’ the girl answered. ‘It took me so long because I didn’t come here direct, but used a roundabout route to try to throw off whoever was sent after me. I arrived last night.’
‘That’s strange,’ Plunkett commented, seeming to be addressing the remark more to himself than the other two.
‘What is, Doc?’ Brackley inquired.
‘No word’s reached St. Jo about young Clay being killed,’ the doctor explained. ‘And, his father being such a coming man in the State, even if it wasn’t given out how he died, I’d expect to have read he was dead in the newspaper.’
‘So would I,’ the former wrestler supported, remembering how he had discounted the possibility of the girl being a fugitive from justice as he had not heard of a crime of any significance in which she might have been involved. Then he realized what could be implied by his companion also lacking information. ‘You mean he might not be dead, but was only knocked out and his friend said he’d broken his neck to scare Miss Ingraham off?’