To Hell and Gone, page 16
“Hell, Clem already knows that,” Ethel called after her.
“Here you go, Mr. Cody Hunter,” Amanda announced cheerfully as she placed the plate before him on the table. “I picked the biggest pork chop in the pan. How’s that look to ya?”
“You didn’t have to do that, but it’s a mighty nice thing to do, and I thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll be back to check on you in a little bit.” She looked at his coffee cup. “Your coffee okay?”
“Yes, ma’am, it’s very good coffee,” he answered, making every effort to be a gracious guest.
She stood there for a few moments, waiting to see if he was going to use the knife and fork on the pork chop, but he paused as well, waiting for her to leave. She said she’d be back with more coffee in a little while and went directly to the kitchen door where Ethel was standing, watching Cody’s table.
“Move back inside the door,” she said to Ethel. “He’s gonna know we’re watching him.”
As a matter of fact, he was aware that he was being watched. The two women were not very secretive in their surveillance of the wild man. He was not aware that their surveillance was strictly for their personal entertainment, however. He was concerned that if he appeared to be too uncivilized, he might be asked to leave. With that in mind, he made deliberate motions to grasp his knife and fork, cut bite-size pieces from his chop, and stab them with the fork to transfer to his mouth.
Amanda was filling his coffee cup when they heard the first shot. He was at once alert, much more than she. It didn’t sound that far away.
When she saw him pausing to listen, she said, “The Wagon Wheel Saloon up at the corner. Every once in a while some drunk shoots a hole in the ceiling.”
In a few minutes, however, there were more shots in rapid succession.
“That was more than one gun,” Cody said. “Maybe bad trouble.”
“You may be right,” Amanda said. “Just as long as they keep it in the saloon. The marshal will be down there right away.” She looked toward the front door. “Clem went out to take a look.”
While she and Cody watched, Clem came back in the front door. Another man followed behind him. Suddenly a startled gasp went up when those closest to the door noticed the man was holding a gun to Clem’s back. Then everyone in the restaurant became aware of it, and a wave of frightened murmuring descended upon the room.
A stocky brute of a man wearing the clothes of a rancher, the gunman gave Clem a shove in the back toward one of the small tables. “You set your ass down in that chair and don’t you move outta it.” Then he looked around the room at the few customers eating supper. “Who wants to die tonight? Who’s gonna be first?” He looked around the whole room again, his gaze settling on Cody as he pointed his six-gun at him. “You, there, wild man. Stand up so I can see you.”
Cody stood up.
“Where’s your gun?”
“I don’t have one,” Cody answered.
“The hell you don’t,” the gunman responded. “You’re wearin’ a holster. Where’s the damn gun?”
“I had to leave it at the stable. You can’t bring a gun inside if you want to eat here.”
“Nobody in here has a gun,” Clem said.
“Keep your mouth shut!” the gunman ordered. “Now, everybody, pull out your guns and lay ’em on the table.” Nobody moved. “Come on, I wanna see them guns on the tables.”
“You’re the only one who’s got a gun, you damn fool,” one gray-haired old man finally said. “Get outta here and let us eat!”
The gunman raised his pistol and fired a shot in the wall directly behind the old man’s head, the bullet passing inches from his ear. The younger couple at the table with the old man begged the gunman to spare him.
“He opens his mouth one more time, it’ll be the last time,” the gunman roared. “I shot a man down in that saloon for cheatin’ at cards. And I shot his partner down when he tried to help him. So I ain’t got nothin’ more to lose if I shoot one or two more. I told that two-bit marshal of yours to bring my horse and the money I left in that saloon to this place in thirty minutes. And if he don’t, I’m gonna shoot one of you nice people every fifteen minutes after that. And folks, I’m a man of my word, so you better hope that marshal gets up here with my horse.”
“Macy!” The call came from outside the front door. “I got your horse out here, just like you said!”
The gunman moved over beside the window, his six-gun still pointing toward the diners. He took a quick look out the window to see his horse standing in front of the restaurant. “Where’s my money?” He yelled out.
“It’s in your saddlebag. There ain’t no use in anybody else dyin’ tonight. If you’re smart, you’ll give yourself up. Save yourself a lotta trouble.”
“If you don’t clear outta that yard right now, I’m gonna start killin’ these folks in here, one by one till I can’t see hide nor hair of you,” Macy yelled.
“All right, all right,” the marshal yelled back. “I’m leavin’.”
“And in case you got somebody set up somewhere with a rifle, when I come outta here, I’m gonna be wearin’ one of these ladies in here like a shirt. She’s gonna ride outta town with me in case you’re fool enough to get a posse after me. You think about that, Marshal.”
“Macy, you don’t need to do that. I give you my word, there ain’t no sniper waitin’ to take a shot. Leave the woman be, and just get on outta town.”
“You give me your word, huh?” Macy said scornfully. “I wonder what that’s worth. Damn it, I’m tired of playin’ around with you.” He cocked his .45 and fired a shot into the ceiling. It brought the results he thought it would—a scream of fright from the women in the dining room and a withdrawal by the marshal.
“All right, Macy, you win. I’m leaving. You don’t have to kidnap no woman.”
Macy eased up beside the window again and watched the marshal and his deputy backing away from the building. He walked back to stand near the entrance of the restaurant and surveyed the hostages, all staring back at him with ghostlike faces. He pointed to Amanda. “You, come ’ere. You and I are gonna take a little ride.”
“Oh, no,” Amanda responded. “I’ll be damned if I’m going anywhere with you.”
“You are, or I’m gonna leave you here with a bullet in your brain,” Macy declared. “You might as well get that in your head right now.” He walked over and grabbed her wrist, unaware of the explosion about to occur.
She resisted, causing him to turn upon her in anger. By the time he looked back toward the tables, it was too late to stop the missile that was Crazy Wolf, charging like a wild bull head down and angry. As he collided with the startled gunman, he almost ran through him, driving his body against the front wall and knocking the wind out of Macy’s lungs. It was an identical re-enactment of the attack upon Corporal Ben Walker. However, it was called for because Cody had no gun. The six-gun was knocked out of Macy’s hand and went sliding across the floor to stop at Ethel’s feet. She reached down quickly and picked it up.
When Cody, seated on Macy’s back, reached out for it, she placed it in his hand. He cocked it to make sure it was ready to fire, then pressed it hard against Macy’s skull. “Don’t you move,” he commanded. He looked up at Clem who had come to help if help was required, and asked, “Have you got some rope?”
“I sure as hell have,” Clem said and hurried to fetch it.
When he returned with the rope, Cody said, “Here,” and handed him the gun. Taking the rope, he hogtied Macy, making sure he was tied good and tight, then said, “I reckon somebody needs to go get the marshal. I doubt he’s very far away.”
Clem volunteered. “I’ll get him.” He stepped out onto the front porch and called out, “Marshal Cox!”
Within seconds, the marshal, his deputy, and two volunteers stepped out of their hiding places at various points around the yard.
“You can come get him now,” Clem said. “He’s changed his mind about leavin’.”
Inside The Dining Room to take charge of the prisoner, Marshal Cox exclaimed, “Dang. I kinda wish you’da let him leave, and we woulda shot him down in the front yard.”
“And shot Amanda down, too, I suppose,” Clem said.
“Well, there’s that possibility, all right,” Cox admitted.
Standing off to the side, Cody was surprised when Amanda suddenly appeared beside him and said, “You’re just gonna have to deal with it, because I’m gonna have to hug your neck.” She wrapped her arms around his chest, laid her head on his shoulder, and almost crushed the life out of him. “I think you saved my life today, Cody Hunter. How can I ever repay you?”
“I don’t know,” Cody replied, then smiled. “More coffee?”
She gave him an extra hard squeeze in response before she released him. “You can have all the coffee you want.”
“One more cup oughta do it,” Cody said. “I was just fixin’ to finish it off when that fellow walked in, but it got cold and I like it hot.”
She looked at him in disbelief, not sure if he was japing her or not. All of the other customers were up from the tables and milling about the room, jabbering to each other about the incident that just happened. Marshal Cox and his deputy were talking to Clem while they untied Macy’s feet, so he could walk to the jail. Amanda looked at Cody again, and he gave her another smile. It was general confusion in the room, and he wanted a cup of coffee.
“All right,” she said, “you’re having me on. But if you want a cup of coffee, I’ll go get you one right now.You want a slice of apple pie with it?”
He hesitated a moment. “I didn’t think about that. Is it an extra charge?”
“Not tonight, it isn’t,” she answered, amazed that he would ask. “Go back and sit down, and I’ll bring you pie and coffee.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said and returned to his table although he had some concern about the time. He didn’t see a clock anywhere and he wasn’t sure now how much time had been wasted with the gunman. He had to get back to the stable before Tyler locked it up for the night.
Amanda was back in a couple of minutes with hot coffee and apple pie. She left him to finish his supper while she joined the spectators watching the marshal and his deputy march the gunman out of the building. They stopped on the porch, and the marshal left his deputy to guard the prisoner. He wanted to talk to Cody.
Only halfway into his slice of pie, Cody looked up to see the marshal approaching his table, less than subtle in his outright appraisal of the stranger dressed in buckskins.
“Mr. Hunter,” Cox addressed him. “Clem and the others told me how you took care of that fellow when he tried to abduct Amanda Clark. Said you took one helluva chance to take him down like you did. I wanna thank you for takin’ a risk like that, and I know Amanda is mighty grateful. You being a stranger and all, I can’t help wonderin’ why you put yourself at risk like that.”
“I had to make sure nothin’ happened to Amanda,” Cody said. “She brings me coffee.”
The marshal wasn’t sure if he was joking or not until Cody grinned. Then he grinned in response and said, “Well, thanks again for steppin’ in when somebody like you was needed.”
“You’re welcome,” Cody said. “Have you got a watch?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a watch. You need to know the time?”
“I do. I’m sleepin’ in the stable tonight, so I wanna get back there before Mr. Tyler locks it up. He said he was gonna be there till seven.”
Cox reached in his pocket and pulled out his watch. “Well, you’ve got plenty of time. It ain’t but ten minutes after six. You gonna be in town a while?”
“No, sir. I’ll be ridin’ out tomorrow.”
“Where you headed?” Cox asked.
“I ain’t sure,” Cody answered truthfully. “I’m just headin’ west, try to find me a mountain to climb and a fresh spring to take a drink of water, I reckon.”
Cox shook his head in envy. “Well, good luck to ya. Wish I could go with you.” He hurried back outside to help his deputy.
Cody finished his pie and coffee, then got up and went to the front counter where the other customers were still standing around discussing the incident they had experienced. They parted to give Cody room when he approached and stood gaping at him. When Clem smiled at him, Cody said. “I need to pay for my supper, and Amanda mighta forgot to tell you, I ate a piece of pie, too. How much I owe you?”
One of the customers spoke up. “I’ll pay for his supper, Clem.” His offer prompted offers from several others.
“There ain’t no charge for your supper,” Clem said with a wide grin. “There ain’t no tellin’ what mighta happened, or who mighta been killed, if you hadn’t done what you done.” Then he pretended to reconsider before saying, “Of course, we coulda got rid of Amanda, but I reckon you can’t have everything.” He paused for the chuckling that remark caused, then continued. “So, you don’t owe me anything, and I hope you’ll come back to see us, if you’re back this way again.” He continued grinning at Cody, expecting him to walk out the door. But Cody continued to stand there in front of the counter as if waiting for him to say more until it became awkward.
Clem asked, “Is there somethin’ else I can do for you?”
“Reckon I could have my .45 back?” Cody asked.
“Oh, hell, I forgot all about it,” Clem confessed. He reached under the counter and retrieved the pistol. “Sorry.”
“’Preciate the free supper,” Cody said. “It was mighty good cookin’.”
“If you’re back this way again, I think I’ll let you keep your gun,” Clem joked.
* * *
Returning to the stable, Cody found John Tyler talking to Marshal Cox’s deputy and holding the reins of Macy’s horse. When he walked up to them, the deputy turned to leave, paused long enough to say, “Cody,” in greeting, then walked away.
“You know Jimmy?” Tyler asked, referring to the deputy.
“I know he’s the marshal’s deputy,” Cody answered. “I didn’t know his name till now.”
“How’d you like The Dinin’ Room?” Tyler asked, expecting to hear Cody’s version of the altercation at the restaurant, after just hearing Jimmy’s version.
“It was good,” Cody said. “I had a pork chop and it was fried just right. And the service was real good, too. If I was gonna be in town a while, I’d go back there to eat.”
“According to what Jimmy just told me, they had a kinda unusual supper tonight.” Tyler tried again to get him to open up.
“Yeah, that’s right. It was pork chops,” Cody repeated. “But that was only one of two things they cooked. You could take your pick and eat beef if you didn’t want a chop. It was a nice place, and the people who run it were nice. I’m glad you recommended it.”
“I reckon they’re glad I recommended it, too,” Tyler said.
“Oh, you mean that little business with the fellow the marshal arrested. I reckon that was kinda unusual. At least I hope it was. You want me to give you a hand with that horse?”
“Yeah, if you want to,” Tyler replied. “And you can tell me your side of what happened in The Dinin’ Room between you and Max Macy.”
“All right,” Cody agreed, “but there really wasn’t that much to talk about.”
CHAPTER 15
“I thought you said you was headin’ west,” John Tyler said when Cody finished checking his packs and stepped up on Storm, then turned the dun gelding back toward town.
“That’s right, I am headin’ west. Before I do, though, I decided to go back to Fort Ellis to see if I could run up on a fellow I used to scout for when he was ridin’ outta Fort Keogh. That is, if he ain’t out in the field somewhere. He was a fine officer to work for and, I don’t know for sure if I’ll be back this way again.”
“Well, I hope you find him,” Tyler said. “You take care of yourself, young man.”
“I’ll do that. And you do the same.” Cody touched Storm with his heels and the big dun reacted immediately, settling into a comfortable lope he knew his master favored, to be reined back to a walk once they cleared the town.
Back on the road to the fort, he met a couple of patrols starting out on some duty call. As he passed them, he took a good look at the officers in command to make sure neither one was Lieutenant Ira McCall. They weren’t, so he continued on, hoping Ira had duty at the fort today. Cody assumed his odds of catching him on base were low, but it was worth a try.
Riding into the parade ground of the fort, he looked for the post commander’s building, thinking someone there could send him in the right direction. He didn’t know if McCall was still in the same troop as when Cody rode for him, but it would have made things much easier. He pulled his horses up in front of what appeared to be the headquarters building and walked inside.
The two desks in the room were manned by two men wearing sergeant’s stripes. They both regarded the buckskin-clad stranger as someone surely in the wrong place.
“Somethin’ I can help you with?” one of the sergeants asked.
“Beggin’ your pardon, Sergeant,” Cody said very respectfully, “I’m hopin’ you can help me find Lieutenant Ira McCall.”
“What do you want him for?” First Sergeant Davey Graham asked, older than the other one by a few gray hairs.
Cody turned to talk to him. “I’m just passin’ by Fort Ellis on my way west and I know Second Lieutenant McCall is stationed here now. I thought I’d stop and see if I could visit him again. You see, I used to scout for Lieutenant McCall when he was at Fort Keogh. He was in Troop D of the Second Cavalry back then, but I don’t know if he’s still in that troop out here or some other outfit. I figured maybe you could tell me where to look for him. He’s a mighty good soldier and a fine man. I just hoped I could say hello before I leave this part of the country.”
The two sergeants exchanged glances, trying to decide if there was some reason not to help the young man out. They decided at the same time that it was a problem McCall could handle himself.
