CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
It was after two o’clock in the morning. Doc had finished his
surgery about an hour before, after working like the devil to save the cowboy’s
life. Chester and I had come back down to the jail so that when the trouble
really started people’d know where to find us. I’d told the kid to go to sleep,
and he was laying on a blanket on the floor of the back room, though if he was
asleep or not I couldn’t tell. I was pacing a rut in the wooden boards of the
floor in the front office, waiting.
Chester was standing by the window of the jail, looking out
into the street. “The crowd’s thicker’n ever, Mr. Dillon. Come over here and
take a look.”
I stopped my pacing and walked over to stand beside him. Together
we watched the chaos in the streets. “Yeah,” I said. “Another hour and they’ll
really be outta hand.”
“Yeah,” said Chester. “Hey, look yonder there, Mr. Dillon.”
He pointed. “There’s Miss Kitty coming across the street.”
“What?” I said.
Sure enough, there she was, coming our way. There were no
other women in the streets now, and her being there was like putting a raw
steak in front of a starving dog. “Wait here, Chester,” I said, opening the
door and stepping quickly into the street.
From somewhere to my right I heard a man shout, “Hiya, Kitty!
What’s new?!”
“Meow!” shouted another drunk.
Kitty’s eyes were fixed on me. She might as well haven’t
heard them at all. “Matt,” she said.
I took her arm and eased myself up along side her, blocking
her from the view of most of the men. “What’re you doing out here, Kitty?”
“I was tryin’ to find you,” she said.
I led her towards the jail. “Come on, let’s get out of the
street.”
Kitty and I went inside and Chester closed the door behind
us.
“Phew,” said Kitty. “It’s getting’ worse. Hello Chester.”
“Hello, Miss Kitty,” said Chester.
I looked her up and down. She looked all right. Of course,
she looked a lot more than all right, but she looked unhurt. “You shouldn’t’ve
gone out in the street, Kitty,” I said.
Kitty laughed. “It’s no worse than the Texas Trail.”
“Then you oughta go home,” I said.
“I am,” she said. “I’m all through ‘til somebody puts a lid
on this town. That Rance is over there right now, getting’ drunk and callin’
for blood.”
“Mine, I’m sure.”
“Yeah.”
“There’s been enough blood around here already.”
“How is he?” she asked. “The one you got outta there?
“Well, Doc was down a while ago,” I told her. “Said he got
the bullet out and thinks he has a chance.”
“Oh, good.” She said it with real relief. She was a hard
woman – I guess she had to be – but she still cared what happened to people,
even strangers. It made me like her even more. It was a strange feeling. With
all the chaos out there in the street, I was standing there in my office
feeling mighty warm. Maybe it was just a warm night.
“You say Rance is working up trouble?” I asked.
“He’s tryin’,” said Kitty. “Guess he didn’t take to your
bashing him on the head.”
“Well, it quietened things down for a little while, anyway.”
Kitty shook her head sadly. “They sure got that poor
constable treed. Willard What’s-His-Name.”
“Bann,” said Chester. “He’s a nice fella. I hope they don’t
hurt him none.”
“When I left they had him dancin’ on the bar,” said Kitty.
“He looked about to cry.”
Chester smiled a little. “Well, that’s harder on the bar than
‘tis on Willard,” he said. “He’s about the fattest peace officer I ever did
see.”
Kitty’s voice was wry. “He’s gonna be fatter’n ever after
tonight. Everytime he opens his mouth to talk, somebody pours a glass of beer down
him.” She looked at me. “It’s sorta pitiful, Matt.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s worse than that, Kitty.”
She nodded. “I know. That’s why I got outta there. You can
kinda feel when a crowd like that gets real mean.”
Her words were punctuated by gunshots from somewhere down
Front Street.
Chester whistled. “Just listen to them out there.”
Kitty raised her shoulders and made up her mind. “I’m not
even stayin’ in town tonight,” she said. “I’m goin’ up to Ma Schnieder’s.” Ma
Schnieder was a little old woman who lived just outside of Dodge on a ranch
that used to be owned by her husband. He left her enough money when he died to
hire a few hands, and her son ran the place, but there was no doubting who
owned it. If you wanted to debate it with her you’d find yourself staring into
the barrel of a shotgun. She had a habit of taking in stray or beaten women. In
fact, it struck me that Francie had been there a couple times in the past few
months.
“That’s a good idea, Kitty,” I said. “Chester, you go along
with her.”
“Alright, sir.” Chester started for the door, but glancing
out the window he looked back at me. “I better stick around,” he said.
The front door opened. I wasn’t worried. Chester’s voice had
told me who it was likely to be. Hightower and Pepper came in, followed by
Green and Howe. The first two were carrying the huge form of Willard Bann
between them, his feet barely on the ground. His face was a mess of bruises and
cuts. The second pair were carrying a man clear off the ground. He was
bleeding, too, but from somewhere around his middle. There was no life in him.
“Who is this?” I asked.
Howe looked at me, anguish in his eyes. “My brother,
Marshal,” he said. “My kid brother.”
Howe’s brother was about thirty-five, but I guess in some
families the nick-names stick. And it was sure that Howe’s kid brother wasn’t
going to do any more growing. “He dead?” I asked.
“Yeah, Marshal,” said Green, when Howe couldn’t. “He caught a
stray bullet out back o’ the Longhorn. It’s too late for Doc to do anything.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Alright,” I said. “Lay him on the
couch.”
“Look at Willard,” said Chester, drawing out each sound with
a soft kind of sorrow in them. He pulled out a chair for the poor fat
Constable.
“Rance beaten me up,” mumbled Willard through a broken face,
falling into the chair. It creaked under him, and for a second I thought it
might break. “Beaten me up bad.”
“He certainly did,” said Green. “We found him lying in the
street with them taking potshots at him, seeing who could shoot the closest
without hitting him.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. There wasn’t much else for me to say. This
was their deal. I was waiting for their call.
Green knew it and looked me right in the eye. “And, Marshal,
we come here to ask ya –“
“Wait a minute, Mr. Green,” I said. “Chester, take Willard up
to Doc’s.”
“Yessir, I sure will,” said Chester. I could tell from his
voice that he felt really sorry for the humiliated ex-cowboy. “Come on,
Willard.” He helped Constable Bann to his feet. Willard managed something that
sounded like, “Thank you,” then allowed Chester to lead him towards the back
door.
“Then come back here for Kitty,” I called after him. I heard
his light, “Yessir,” and then the door shut after him.
I turned back to my visitors. “Alright, Mr. Green,” I said.
“You wanted to ask me something.”
The kid poked his head in. I guess he had been sleeping, even
through the gunfire, but Chester must have woken him up. “What’s goin’ on, Mr.
– is that man shot?” he asked, excitedly.
I looked at Kitty. “Kitty, would you mind…?”
She gave me a sour look, and I guessed that she didn’t much
care for children. But still she shooed him into the back room, followed him,
and then closed the door.
Green looked at me. “You gotta stop ‘em, Mr. Dillon.”
“Yeah?”
Green kept staring at me – I guess he was trying to convey
his misery. Hightower and Pepper stood looking uncomfortable. Howe was sitting
on the edge of the couch, looking down on his dead brother. It was Howe who
spoke. “We shouldn’ta interfered Marshal. We’ll trust your judgement from now
on.”
“Yeah,” said Green, “we’re all behind ya now, ain’t we,
gentlemen?”
Hightower and Pepper nodded and muttered a couple of yesses.
Green just kept staring at me, his desperation getting more
blatant. “You’ll do somethin’, won’tcha, Marshal?” he asked.
I thought about it for a minute. I wasn’t trying to make it
worse for them. I was just trying to think if there was anything I could do at
this point. Things were pretty close to the point of no return, if they hadn’t
passed it already. But it was my job.
“Alright,” I said. “It’s pretty late, but I’ll try.”
The three businessmen standing all sighed with relief. Howe
didn’t even seem to hear me.
“And I’ll start with Rance,” I said. “He’s the worst of the
lot. I’ll go get him and put him in jail. But before I go I want every
saloon-keeper in Dodge to put out his lights and close up. Now you gentlemen
will have to pass the word for that one. I don’t want to be seen until I go for
Rance.”
Green nodded vigorously. “Oh, we’ll do it, Marshal,” he said
quickly. “We’ll do it right now.”
“Alright,” I said to them, “then get going before it’s too
late.” I walked up to Howe. “Mr. Howe? Let’s get him over to Doc’s.”
Howe nodded absently. He and I lifted his brother’s body and
carried it out the back way. The kid followed us, asking questions, though
Kitty did her best to quiet him. Once we had the body laid out in Doc’s front
office, I left Howe there, and sent Chester and the kid to take Kitty out to Ma
Schnieder’s. None of them knew I was heading out to look for Rance, and I kept
it that way.
Always something to prove.
