Six-Gun Nemesis

by Colin Bainbridge

  ‘Get inside,’ Kitchenbrand rapped, ‘in case there’s any more of ’em.’

  They slammed inside the office and took their places by the window, peering out at the street. The excitement seemed to have died down. A few people still remained but most of them had fled. Kitchenbrand looked up at the roof line but he could see no further sign of activity. After waiting for another five minutes the marshal stepped to the door and, standing to one side, opened it. Nothing happened.

  ‘Cover me,’ he said.

  Kitchenbrand moved swiftly across to the doorway and the marshal ducked outside. There was no response. After a few moments he came back inside. ‘Looks like that’s it,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah. For now.’

  The marshal reached into his desk and brought out a bottle of bourbon which he proceeded to pour into two glasses.

  ‘I don’t get it,’ he said. ‘I don’t remember the townsfolk ever actin’ that way.’

  ‘It happens,’ Kitchenbrand replied. ‘I’ve seen the same thing before. Especially if there are a few outsiders to stir things up.’

  ‘What? Troublemakers?’

  ‘I guess you didn’t notice ’em,’ Kitchenbrand replied. ‘There were some ornery lookin’ varmints among that crowd. I figure they could be worse than troublemakers. I figure they could be members of the Yuma gang.’

  The marshal took a long swig of the whiskey. ‘I figure that kind of proves somethin’,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah? What does it prove?’

  ‘Well, at least it goes to show that Garland is definitely tied in with ’em.’

  ‘Yeah, but what were they after? Lynchin’ him?’

  The marshal swallowed another mouthful of the whiskey. ‘Why would they do that? Garland’s due to hang anyway.’

  Kitchenbrand shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Besides, doesn’t that depend on the judge? You got Garland behind bars. Why don’t you ask him?’

  The marshal looked up at Kitchenbrand. ‘Say, you only once mentioned seein’ the boy since you got here. You want to talk to him now?’

  ‘Later,’ Kitchenbrand said. He glanced at his gunbelt hanging on the stand. ‘You don’t mind if I have that back?’ he added.

  ‘It’s against my policy,’ the marshal said with a grin. ‘But I guess there are exceptional circumstances.’

  Kitchenbrand fastened the gunbelt round his waist and had began to move towards the door when he stopped.

  ‘If I’m right,’ he said, ‘and those varmints I saw in the crowd are some of the Yuma gang, you can bet there’ll be more of ’em around, and you can also bet they’ll make another attempt at gettin’ Garland out of here.’

  The marshal nodded. ‘Yeah, I figure you could be right.’

  ‘Maybe it would be an idea for me to stick around a while,’ Kitchenbrand said.

  ‘You could try the Matagorda hotel,’ the marshal replied.

  Kitchenbrand nodded. He saw no reason to mention Virginy’s shack. ‘See you later,’ he said.

  Ty Garland had heard the commotion going on outside the marshal’s office and when shooting began, he knew it was something fairly serious. It was useless to try and see through the small barred opening high in the wall. There was no way he could haul himself up to it so he had to content himself with listening. It was hard to make anything out but he could hear voices raised in anger and suddenly he realized that it was a lynch mob. Only the marshal stood between himself and an agonizing death. He began to pace up and down in agitation but presently the noise died down and then it was quiet once more. Quiet, that was, except for the incessant sound of hammering which soon began again in the square outside. He sat down on the bare iron frame which served as a bed and buried his head in his hands. The odds had been stacked against him from the start.

  After the last robbery the townsfolk had been angry and ready to blame any scapegoat. It wasn’t so much for himself as for his grandmother that he felt pain and regret. She had done her best to bring him up alone after his father had died. She had tried to make him see the error of his ways but he had ignored her pleas. He realized now how foolish he had been ever to get involved with the Yuma gang. This was what it led to: four bare walls and a gallows tree.

  After leaving the marshal Kitchenbrand rode his horse to the livery stable, then visited the barbershop where he had a bath and shave. He wandered about the town for a while and had almost decided to return to the shack where he had left Virginy when he changed his mind and made his way back to the marshal’s office instead. Purdom was still there.

  ‘There was somethin’ I forgot to ask,’ Kitchen-brand said.

  ‘Yeah? What was that?’

  ‘Is there a day fixed for the trial?’

  ‘Not yet,’ the marshal said. ‘How did you get involved in this anyway? Was I right about Virginy Garland?’

  ‘I ain’t denyin’ it. And by the way, it seems some of your townsmen weren’t content to take her grandson. A bunch of ’em turned up later and tarred and feathered her. What’s more, they tore down her house as well.’

  There was no mistaking the marshal’s expression of shock and disbelief, but Kitchenbrand didn’t want to pursue the matter. There was something of more immediate importance on his mind. Without pause, he continued: ‘I got a proposition to make.’

  ‘I’m listenin’,’ Purdom replied after a moment.

  ‘I may be entirely wrong about this, but I don’t think so. That crowd earlier was stoked up by some of the Yuma gang.’

  ‘So you say,’ the marshal replied.

  ‘It didn’t work,’ Kitchenbrand continued, ignoring the marshal’s comment, ‘but they ain’t gonna leave it that. Which means they’re gonna try somethin’ else. My money’s on ’em goin’ for tonight, while they’re in town.’

  The marshal ran his hand over his chin, weighing up Kitchenbrand’s words. ‘I been thinkin’ too,’ he said, ‘and I reckon you got a point.’

  ‘Good. That leaves two options. Either we hunker down and prepare to defend this place against whatever the Yuma boys are plannin’ to throw at it. Or. . . .’

  ‘Or what?’ Purdom interposed.

  ‘We remove Garland from here to somewhere safe that the Yuma gang ain’t gonna know nothin’ about.’

  The marshal’s brow was puckered in concentration as he pondered Kitchenbrand’s words. ‘What you say makes sense, but how do I know it ain’t some elaborate plot to spring him yourself?’

  ‘You don’t. You’re gonna just have to take it on trust.’

  ‘He ain’t gonna hang till he’s been convicted.’

  ‘Tell that to the next necktie party.’

  Purdom considered his words. ‘You want me to give you time?’ he said.

  ‘When I came here I didn’t have a clear idea about just what I intended to do, but I certainly wasn’t meanin’ to try and spring Garland myself. If I’d planned on doin’ that, I wouldn’t have come straight to see you.’

  ‘What did you expect to achieve?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just kinda figured someone’d see sense.’ Kitchenbrand paused and looked at Purdom. ‘It ain’t for me to say,’ he continued, ‘but I’m thinkin’ maybe I found that person.’

  Purdom got to his feet and walked to the window where he spent a few moments looking out on the street. When he turned back there was determination written across his features.

  ‘OK,’ he said. ‘There are some things about all this I don’t like. Matter of fact, I got my deputy, Bert Hardy, doin’ some checkin’. Talkin’ to you has made me realize it even more. I don’t know just exactly what the right and wrongs of it all are, but I go along with you this far. Let’s get Garland out of here.’

  Without waiting for a reply, he took a set of keys from the drawer of his desk and unlocked the interconnecting door. There was a short corridor between his office and the cells. With Kitchenbrand just behind him, he walked through.

  There were two cells, only one of which was occupied. When he heard the door opening, Garland
got to his feet and came to the front of his cell with fists clenched, fearing for a moment that it might be the lynch mob come to get him. When he perceived it was the marshal his features relaxed but when he saw another man behind he instinctively took up a defensive stance again.

  ‘It’s OK,’ Purdom said. ‘This man is called Kitchenbrand. You might say he’s one of my deputies.’

  ‘What was all that noise earlier?’ Garland asked.

  ‘Some folks tryin’ to take the law into their own hands. That’s why we’re here. We’re movin’ you somewhere safe just in case anyone feels like tryin’ it again.’

  Garland looked suspiciously at Kitchenbrand. It was dark inside the cells compared to the marshal’s office and Purdom could not see the expression on Kitchenbrand’s face.

  ‘We’re doin’ this for your own good,’ Purdom said. ‘I trust you to cooperate.’

  ‘I told you, I had nothin’ to do with that robbery. I ain’t gonna cause no trouble.’

  ‘Then just do whatever I tell you,’ the marshal said, ‘but remember. No funny business.’ He unlocked the door and the three of them returned to the front office.

  ‘Where are we goin’?’ Garland said.

  Kitchenbrand had been wondering the same thing.

  ‘For the time bein’, we’re goin’ to my place,’ Purdom replied. He went to the window and glanced out. The street was relatively quiet. He came back and reached into a drawer.

  ‘Here, put this on,’ he said to Garland, producing an old battered Stetson. When Garland pulled it down low, his face was pretty well concealed. The marshal stepped to the door and opened it carefully. ‘All clear,’ he said.

  They slipped through the doorway into the street. The marshal quickly locked the door. ‘OK, follow me.’

  He turned and began to walk down the street in the opposite direction to that in which he had accompanied Kitchenbrand to the restaurant. They were moving away from the centre of town and after a few minutes the marshal led them down an alley and through some deserted streets. They took another turn and kept walking till the marshal brought them to a halt.

  ‘This is my place,’ he said.

  They were standing by a white picket fence. Behind it stood a single storey house with a veranda running round three sides. Kitchenbrand could hear the faint sound of running water somewhere beyond it. Purdom opened a gate and they went up a path leading to the front porch. He opened the door and they slipped inside.

  ‘Nothin’ to it,’ he said.

  He closed some curtains and lit a lamp. The room was suffused in a warm roseate glow. Kitchenbrand looked about him. Although it was sparsely furnished, the room looked comfortable.

  ‘Bella occasionally does some cleaning,’ Purdom said. ‘You know, the lady you met at the restaurant. I do my own cookin’.’

  ‘It’s a nice set-up,’ Kitchenbrand remarked.

  Garland had remained silent, but now, taking off the Stetson, he spoke briefly. ‘Thanks for this, Marshal,’ he said. ‘And you, Mr Kitchenbrand. I sure appreciate it.’

  ‘Just remember what I said,’ Purdom responded. ‘Don’t try anything clever.’

  ‘Whatever you say,’ Garland replied.

  ‘This arrangement is temporary,’ Purdom said. ‘There’s a spare room through the back. I’ll show you in a minute.’

  Kitchenbrand took this as his cue. ‘Reckon I’ll be goin’,’ he said.

  The marshal looked surprised. ‘I thought you intended stayin’. In view of what we were talkin’ about and all.’ Purdom had the feeling that now they had reached his house in safety, Kitchenbrand was feeling awkward.

  ‘There won’t be any trouble tonight,’ Kitchenbrand said. ‘Nobody knows Ty Garland is here.’ He turned to the youngster. ‘You keep your head down. Don’t take any chances of someone spottin’ you.’

  The marshal thought his voice sounded slightly strained. ‘Come over first thing in the mornin’,’ he said. ‘We’ll need to decide what to do next.’

  ‘Sure. See you both tomorrow.’

  Kitchenbrand turned and walked out through the door. When he was back in the street he paused once to look back before directing his steps towards the livery stable.

  It was late in the afternoon when he got back to the shack. He was leading an extra horse, which he had acquired from the livery stable for Virginy. For a moment he caught a glimpse of her face at the window, then she appeared on the rickety porch. She was looking quite a lot different from the way she had been and was wearing a grey calico dress that she must have found in the shack. She had cleaned off the last of the tar and her lank hair was tied behind in a bun.

  ‘Well, what’s the news?’ she said. ‘You seen my grandson?’

  Kitchenbrand swung down from the saddle. ‘Let me attend to the horses,’ he replied, ‘and then I’ll tell you exactly what’s happened.’

  When he got back inside the shack he could smell food cooking and realized for the first time that he had had nothing to eat or drink since having coffee earlier that morning with Marshal Purdom. He suddenly felt hungry.

  ‘Sit down,’ Virginy said. ‘I figure you could put away some grub.’

  She had made a stew, to be accompanied by black coffee and sourdough biscuits. She certainly knew how to cook. As they ate Kitchenbrand told her what had occurred in town. As he talked she broke in every now and then with muted expletives. When he had finished her face was flushed.

  ‘They’re tryin’ to lynch him?’ she said. ‘Hell, what are we waitin’ for? Let’s go right in and get him.’

  ‘That ain’t the way to handle things,’ Kitchenbrand said. ‘Your grandson’s safe with the marshal for tonight. I’ve arranged to go back in the mornin’ and talk over the situation with Purdom. You’re right about him. He’s a decent man. He ain’t happy with things himself. The best way to handle this is to cooperate with him.’

  ‘Then I’m comin’ with you,’ she said.

  ‘I ain’t got no problem with that.’

  He produced his tobacco pouch. They each rolled a cigarette.

  ‘You know,’ he said, ‘there’s one thing been puzzlin’ me. If I’m right about some of the Yuma gang bein’ behind that lynch mob, I can’t see what they would stand to gain by it. Why would they want to stir up the crowd? Why would they want a lynchin’?’

  ‘Ain’t that obvious? They knew Ty weren’t guilty. They musta wanted him out of the way in case he persuaded the marshal to see things that way.’

  ‘You could be right, but I figure there’s more to it. I reckon they were hopin’ to spring him in the confusion. I reckon it was a rescue attempt.’

  ‘What are you implyin’? That I’m lyin’ and that Ty is one of the gang?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’ He paused for a few seconds. ‘Although it would fit.’

  Virginy got to her feet. ‘Go on, git,’ she shouted. ‘You’re no different from all the rest of those low-down ornery rattlesnakes. I never shoulda trusted you.’

  ‘Simmer down,’ Kitchenbrand said. ‘All I said was that it would fit one interpretation of the situation. I didn’t say I believed it.’

  The old lady hesitated, struggling with her feelings before sitting down again. ‘You’d better not be stringin’ me along,’ she muttered.

  Kitchenbrand got to his feet and went over to his saddle-bags. He produced the bottle of whiskey. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘I figure we could both do with something a little stronger.’

  He poured each of them a stiff shot. The old woman threw her head back and swallowed half the glass. She shivered. ‘Yeah, that’s better,’ she said.

  He topped her glass up again before returning to the conversation. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘I believe you when you tell me that Ty is innocent. If I’m right, that means those Yuma boys were eggin’ on the crowd so they could intervene and set him free. They must have a reason for wantin’ to do that.’

  The old woman did not say anything this time and Kitchenbrand’s thoughts ran on. ‘There’s someth
in’ else I been thinkin’,’ he said. ‘I assumed that the varmints who came back and tarred and feathered you were the same ones who came and took your grandson. Now I’m pretty sure they weren’t. I’m just about certain they must have been some of the Yuma boys too.’

  ‘Could be,’ Virginy said after thinking for a moment. ‘I sure didn’t recognize any of ’em.’

  ‘And you did recognize some of the first ones?’

  ‘Yeah. Like I said, that schemin’ son of a gun Landon Clovis in particular.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Because I never trusted him. He tried to get hold of the Chicken Track once before but I wasn’t havin’ any of it.’

  ‘He offered you money?’

  ‘Yes, and probably more than the property’s worth. But I wasn’t gonna sell out my home to no one.’

  ‘Maybe there’s some sort of tie-in between this hombre Clovis and the Yuma gang?’

  ‘I never heard of Clovis gettin’ involved with anythin’ outside the law,’ Virginy said. ‘He’s too sly, too clever. It ain’t the way he operates.’

  ‘Maybe he’s sly enough to convince everybody that’s the case,’ Kitchenbrand said. ‘Maybe a little chat with Marshal Purdom might throw some light on his operations.’

  ‘You can talk to Purdom, but he won’t tell you anythin’ different.’

  ‘That bushwhacker I shot,’ Kitchenbrand mused. ‘I figure the rest of the bunch quitted the Chicken Track not long before we turned up. He must have been hangin’ around for some reason and saw us comin’. Thought he’d have a little fun takin’ a pot shot at me.’

  ‘Or maybe me,’ Virginy said. ‘Lucky for us both that Reba was there to keep an eye on things.’

  Kitchenbrand didn’t respond. Who knew, maybe the old girl was right? Probably the crows had been disturbed by his movement, or maybe the shine of his gun.

  ‘I’m gettin’ kinda tired tryin’ to work this all out,’ Kitchenbrand said. ‘Maybe things will become a bit clearer after we’ve seen the marshal tomorrow. That grandson of yourn is sure gonna get a surprise when he sees you walk in.’