Shot to Hell

by William W. Johnstone; J. A. Johnstone

  When they arrived at the hotel, Perley rode Buck around to the outside entrance to the dining room. When they went in the door, they were met by four worried women, who squealed joyous cries of relief upon seeing the little girl safely home. Perhaps the calmest female in the room was Alice, who stood by Perley’s side until her mother came to her with arms outstretched. “Oh, baby, baby,” Rachael repeated over and over. “I was so worried. If anything ever happened to you . . .”

  “I wasn’t afraid, Mama,” Alice said. “I knew Perley would come to get me.”

  “I knew he would, too, darlin’,” Rachael replied. She released Alice long enough to give Perley a big hug. “Thank you, Perley. Thank you for my daughter.”

  Her obvious sincerity embarrassed him slightly, so he took the opportunity to lighten the mood when he felt Melva leaning up against his leg. He placed a hand firmly on top of her head and said, “I don’t know if I’da bothered, if it’da been this little scamp, though.” She responded by sticking out her tongue at him. He pretended to try to grab it, which caused her a giggling fit.

  The gathering of women around him smiled at Melva’s giggling. Rachael, watching the happy reunion, couldn’t help thinking what a wonderful father he would be. If I was a few years younger . . . she caught herself thinking and immediately shook her head to clear it.

  Realizing there was no one in the dining room but the four women around him, when he would have expected Possum and Rooster to be waiting there as well, he asked, “Where’s everybody else?”

  “They’re down at the Buffalo Hump,” Bess was the first to answer. “They’re gettin’ up a posse to go after Alice.”

  “We shoulda told you that as soon as you got here,” Emma said. “You’d better get down there and let them know Alice is back safely.”

  “I don’t know what they’re gonna do about Drew,” Kitty wondered. It occurred to the women that they were so happy to see Alice’s safe return, but there had been no mention of the man who carried her away. They all looked at Perley then.

  “They won’t have to do anything about Drew,” he said. “I reckon I’d best get down to the saloon to tell ’em about Alice.” With that, he turned and went out the door.

  When he got to the Buffalo Hump, he found the core of the council, the men who were committed to take action when the town required action, gathered to decide what to do. “Perley!” Rooster bellowed as soon as he saw him enter the room.

  “Did you find ’em?” Possum called out.

  “Did Drew Dawson come back with you?” Sheriff Mason asked.

  “I found ’em,” Perley answered. “Alice is all right. She wasn’t harmed. Drew ain’t comin’ back. He’s dead.” The reaction to his statements was predictable, so he was quickly pressed to explain. He told them of Drew’s involvement with Ned Stark in the kidnapping, but he could not explain exactly what their demands were going to be. Ransom possibly, he guessed, since he didn’t realize the real purpose was to draw him out to his death. He told them that he had been given no choice other than to kill Drew Dawson. He didn’t offer any details of the killing. As far as Ned Stark and the two remaining members of his gang, he said that he had no actual contact with them. He just sneaked in and got Alice out. And the last he saw of Stark he was standing in front of a line shack while he watched his men chasing a runaway horse.

  His explanation was adequate for the gathering of men in the saloon with the exception of Possum and Rooster. Possum stepped up close beside him and informed him, “You’re gonna have to tell me a helluva lot more about it than that, especially the part about Drew Dawson.”

  “There ain’t much to tell,” Perley replied. “I’m wonderin’ now what these fellows are thinkin’ about doin’.” Then it occurred to him. “What about the trial?” He looked around him and realized the saloon was no longer set up like a courtroom. His concern for Alice’s safety had driven thoughts of Junior Humphrey out of his mind.

  “I reckon you’re faster than Drew was, right?” Rooster asked, ignoring his question about the trial.

  “I ain’t got no idea how fast he was,” Perley answered. “It just didn’t come to that. I was lucky to get a shot at him when he wasn’t expectin’ it.”

  Rooster gazed at him with a skeptical eye and was about to call him on his story when he was interrupted by Ralph Wheeler calling the meeting to order. “There isn’t any doubt that we’re all mighty relieved to know that Alice Parker is back home safe and sound. It’s sorrowful news to hear that Drew Dawson was playing us all for suckers. Nobody ever thought he was in cahoots with Ned Stark. That’s what you said, isn’t it, Perley?”

  “Yes, sir, that’s right,” Perley answered. “Matter of fact, Ned was Drew’s cousin.” His reply brought a wave of snorts of disgust for their gullibility.

  Wheeler continued. “We need to decide if we should take any action against Ned Stark and his two men now.”

  Sheriff Mason stood up to respond. “It doesn’t make any difference if Alice Parker is home safe. Ned Stark and his men are guilty of kidnappin’, and that’s a serious crime. As sheriff of Bison Gap, it’s my duty to arrest ’em and bring ’em in for trial. I’m gonna need some help with three of ’em to arrest, so I’m askin’ for volunteers to ride in a posse, the more, the better.” His request was immediately answered by half a dozen hands raised. Mason nodded his appreciation for their support. He looked at Perley and said, “I’d like to have you go with us, Perley.”

  “I figured you knew I would go with you,” Perley responded.

  “’Preciate it,” Mason said. “I reckon we could get ready to go as soon as everybody gets their horses saddled and their weapons.”

  That suggestion was met with some reluctance on the part of several of the volunteers. The first to speak was Rex Cooper. “It’s gettin’ kinda late in the day to start out, ain’t it? I don’t know how many of us have ever been out to that ranch. I know I ain’t ever been there. I ain’t sure I could find it, especially in the dark.”

  His remarks were met with general agreement, and no one admitted that they knew where the ranch house actually was, whether they did or not. It was awfully close to suppertime, and it would be a while before everyone could prepare to ride. “I don’t know,” Horace Brooks remarked, “but does it make that much difference whether we go out there tonight, or in the mornin’?”

  They generally agreed that it didn’t make a great deal of difference, figuring that Stark would be holed up at that ranch house. Mason was more in favor of going right away, but he was not going without a posse. So the final decision was to ride first thing in the morning. After that was settled, Perley finally learned the outcome of Junior’s trial when Wheeler made a final announcement. “I know we said the hanging was supposed to be tomorrow morning, but because of the posse tomorrow, we’ll reschedule it for day after tomorrow.” Since it was nearing suppertime, most of the crowd departed, leaving the usual evening crowd to consume Henry Lawrence’s whiskey supply and rehash the events of the day, a day that was crowded with them.

  Rooster decided to join Perley and Possum for supper in the hotel dining room. So they walked back up the street together, with Possum pumping Perley for more details about Drew Dawson’s death every step of the way. Finally, Perley gave up and told them how the confrontation actually played out. “So, this whole kidnapping thing was just so Drew could throw down with you to see who was the fastest gun in Texas?”

  “I don’t know if it was or not, but he decided to wait for me to follow them when they took Alice. Figured it would be a good opportunity to find out, I reckon. He talked like it was important to him.”

  “But not to you,” Possum said. “So you just went ahead and shot him down before he was ready to draw?”

  “Well, hell,” Perley answered. “I didn’t know if he was the fastest gun in Texas or not.”

  Possum shook his head slowly while he thought that over. “I swear, Perley, you’re smarter than I give you credit for.”

 
; “Too bad you couldn’t hang onto that white horse ol’ Drew rode,” Rooster said.

  “Like I said,” Perley explained, “I needed that horse to help me slip in to get Alice outta that little shed they had her in.”

  “What about that fancy quick-draw gun belt and six-gun Drew wore?” Possum asked.

  “The last time I saw them,” Perley said, “they were chasing that big white horse of his across a stretch of open prairie.”

  When they walked into the dining room, the women were anxious to know about the meeting. When they were told that a posse was set to ride out to Stark’s ranch in the morning, the news was welcomed by all. Maybe, they hoped, the long reign of lawlessness might be at an end with the destruction of Ned Stark’s gang of hoodlums. “I set the tables up to give us one big one again,” Rachael said. “So set yourselves down. Bess has made a sugar cake to celebrate Alice getting home safe. So save a little room for a slice of that after you polish off her Texas stew.” As usually happened, Perley sat down with Alice on one side of him and Melva on the other.

  CHAPTER 20

  Supper was a considerably less joyous occasion at Ned Stark’s ranch. Had it been left up to Stark, there would have been no supper at all. He was too angry and frustrated to eat, and only drank coffee because Jim Duncan made a pot of it to eat with the smoked beef he and Frank ate. “You better eat some of this meat, Ned,” Frank said. “Need to keep your strength up.” He exchanged glances with Jim. They both were hesitant to say much to Stark when he was in a mood like the one he was gripped with now. They knew he was sulking over the death of Drew Dawson. Even though as late as this morning, they thought Ned was almost at a point where he was sick and tired of Drew’s tendency to try to run things his way. But now that Drew had been killed, Ned was back to thinking of the loss of his cousin as if he was someone dear. His death served to increase the heat under an already intense fire in Ned’s veins to kill Perley Gates. Perley Gates had effectively destroyed Ned’s outlaw empire, and now he was killing his kin.

  After they had finally stopped Drew’s frantic horse from running itself to death and removed the saddlebags and gun belt, they had little doubt that it was the work of one man. And they saw it as a sign of contempt from Perley Gates. The insult, added to the tail he had attached to the horse, was the rescue of the girl right from under their noses. Neither Jim nor Frank could understand why Perley Gates didn’t shoot Stark while he was standing distracted in front of the shack. To Stark it was a message of contempt and meant to tell him that Perley could kill him any time he chose. They had not been eager to do so, but Stark insisted they would go to find Drew’s body, in spite of the possibility of an ambush. His two one-armed outlaws were relieved to find Drew lying face down on the ground, a bullet hole dead center in his chest. When they turned him over, the expression of surprise was still frozen on his face. With a great deal of effort, due to the fact that both Frank and Jim were working with the use of only one hand, they managed to bring Drew’s body back to the ranch. They carried the body into the house, but there was no suitable place to put it down except the one bed that was in Ned’s room. After some deliberation, Ned decided to put Drew on the kitchen table. “That’ll get him off the floor,” he decided. That was possibly the moment when Frank decided, if he survived to see nightfall, he would leave this cursed land before daybreak. Frank divulged his plans to depart that night to Jim.

  “You just gonna ride off without tellin’ Ned you’re leavin’?” Jim asked.

  “I think if I don’t, he’s liable to try to stop me, and the shape I’m in with this lame arm, I don’t feel like puttin’ up a fight. You know as well as I do that we’re finished here. He’s rantin’ and ravin’ about how he’s gonna build the gang back up like it was when we joined up. And damned if I can see how that’s gonna happen. Word gets out about everybody but the three of us gettin’ gunned down, who do you think is gonna wanna ride for Ned Stark?”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Jim said. “I know we talked about it before, but I never thought we’d quit him. I’ll admit, I have thought about it some more.”

  “I swear, Jim, he’s just gonna get us killed before this business with Perley Gates is done with. Did you ever think one man was gonna gun down Curly Williams and Quirt Taylor and Eli Priest and Jack Sledge, and all the rest of ’em?” He shook his head. “I’m goin’. I ain’t waitin’ to welcome that posse when they come after us.”

  Jim Duncan bit his lower lip as he thought about what Frank was proposing. With Frank gone, it would just be him left to take orders from a crazy man. He had ridden with a couple of other gangs before, and he had never quit one without telling the other members. But none of those gang leaders had gone crazy with the hatred of one gunslinger like Ned had. “What the hell? I’m in,” he decided. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Good,” Frank said. “We’ll do better when there’s two of us.” There was no more talk about it at that time, however, for they heard Ned bellow from the kitchen, calling them. “What is it, Ned?” He called back, then to Jim, he said, “We’d best go see what he wants.”

  “We need to get Drew in the ground,” Stark said when they walked in the kitchen. “We gotta dig him a decent grave.”

  “That’ud be the proper thing to do, all right, Ned,” Jim said. “But that ain’t gonna be an easy thing to do right now. With both me and Frank with a crippled arm, I don’t see how either one of us can do any good with a shovel. You’re the only one with two good hands.”

  “Maybe the three of us could carry him outside and lay him in a gully or somethin’,” Frank suggested, “and try to find some rocks to lay on top of him to keep the critters away from him.”

  Stark didn’t respond at once but continued to look at each one of them in turn as if trying to decide if they were trying to jape him. Finally, he spoke. “No, leave him on the table tonight. We’ll decide what to do with him in the mornin’.”

  “Whatever you say, Ned, you’re the boss,” Frank said. “We’ll leave him right there on the table. It’s kinda like when the governor dies and they lay him out on a stand, so everybody can honor him before they put him in the ground.”

  “Yeah, that’s best,” Stark said. “You boys go on back on the porch and keep your eyes on that path down to the house. I wanna give anybody comin’ in here tonight a real warm welcome.”

  They did as he said and returned to the porch. “I musta missed it when he said he’d dig the damn grave,” Frank japed. “He’s got two good arms.”

  “I druther be out here on the porch than in there with him and his cousin,” Jim remarked. “But I think if those folks were gonna get up a posse to come out here tonight, they’da already been here. It ain’t that far away. I think they’ll damn-sure show up in the mornin’, but we won’t be here to welcome ’em. I know they’re not gonna let us get away with stealin’ that little girl.”

  They waited Ned out until he finally became too sleepy to stay awake and came out to tell them he didn’t think a posse would show up that night but to be ready early in the morning. They assured him that they would, so he went into his room and went to bed. It now became a question for the two men as to how long they should wait to go into the main room, pack up their bedrolls, get all their belongings, and slip out to the corral to saddle their horses. They sat and waited and listened. Finally they heard Ned break into a chorus of snoring and knew it was time to pack up. Frank tiptoed up to the bedroom door and listened. When he was sure the noise he heard was steady, sound sleep, he looked back at Jim and nodded.

  Fearful of being caught in the act of desertion, they hurried to roll up their spare shirts, socks, and underwear in their bedrolls, and picked up their saddlebags and war bags that held personal items. When they were ready, they went into the kitchen and loaded a sack with smoked beef and coffee, as well as the coffeepot, all the while feeling the gaping mouth and eyes of the late Drew Dawson staring up from the kitchen table.

  They moved quietly out the front door
and headed for the corral, where they quickly saddled their horses and loaded one of the packhorses with the bags of food and extra ammunition. Ready at last, they climbed on their horses, turned them away from the barn and the corral, and headed up the path leading away from the ranch. Suddenly startled by the report of a rifle shot, Frank looked at Jim beside him as he slumped forward on his horse’s neck, shot in the back. In less than a second, Frank felt the impact of the shot that struck him in the back. He heeled his horse for speed, but a second shot closer to the center of his back caused him to jerk straight up in the saddle before sliding sideways off his horse.

  Stark walked up to stand over Frank Deal, who was hanging onto life by a thread. He poked him in the side with the muzzle of his rifle. “I won’t abide a coward,” he said, cranked in a new cartridge, and pulled the trigger. In no hurry, he walked slowly up the path a dozen yards to the horse waiting there. Jim had not fallen off but was lying fatally wounded on the horse’s neck. Stark took the horse’s bridle in hand and calmed the nervous gelding. Then he pulled Jim’s boot out of the stirrup and pushed it up to dump him on the ground.

  Still alive but helpless to defend himself, Jim lay there, pretending to be dead and praying Stark would be satisfied that he was done. Stark stood over him for a long time, watching him, knowing he was pretending. After what seemed an eternity to the man dying there, Stark was no longer amused by his victim’s helpless effort to live. He put a bullet in his brain.