Escape from Five Shadows

15

They had come down the wagon-road slope keeping in line with the windowless north side of the stage station and now, from the willows, they looked across the open yard to the front of the adobe.

“One horse in the shed,” Manring said.

Bowen was studying it. From this angle they could see only the hindquarters and saddle. “It could be Willis Favley’s dun,” Bowen said. Karla wouldn’t be back yet, he thought. That left her father and whoever owned the dun. That you’re sure of, he thought.

“It could be,” Manring said. “That’d be something if he was inside.”

Bowen’s hand went into the front of his shirt. “We’re about to find out,” he said. As he pulled Lizann’s revolver he saw the look of surprise come over Manring’s bearded face.

“Where’d you get that?”

“I told you, Earl, we didn’t need you as much as you thought.” Bowen turned and as Manring continued to stare at him, moved out from the willows.

He started to hurry across the open yard, then thought: Take your time. He slowed to a walk, keeping his eyes on the door, but not going directly for it. He reached the corner of the building, hesitated, then moved along the front of the adobe, past the two windows, to the screen door. He opened it, felt it open wider as Manring took it, and brought up the revolver as he stepped into the room.

At the far end, behind the bar, John Demery looked up. As he did, as the astonishment came over his face, Willis Falvey glanced around, then turned suddenly, pressing his back to the bar.

Bowen said. “Who else is here?” moving toward them.

Demery shook his head. “Nobody else. Karla-” he stopped. “You broke out!”

Bowen motioned with the revolver. “Come around to this side.” He glanced at Manring. “Look out back.”

Manring was staring at Falvey. “I got to talk to little Willis.” He walked toward him, ignoring Bowen.

Falvey pressed against the bar. “I never did anything to you.”

“Leave him alone,” Bowen said.

Falvey looked toward Bowen. “I don’t even know his name. How could I have done anything to him?”

Close to him Manring said, “You were there, boy. That’s enough.”

Bowen stepped toward them. “Get away from him, Earl.”

Falvey’s face was flushed; he’d had a lot of whiskey, Bowen judged, but not enough to hide his open-eyed, lip-biting expression of fear.

“I don’t care if you run away,” Falvey said. “More power to you. Ask John here, I was telling him…I don’t care anymore what goes on at that place.”

“He doesn’t care,” Demery said. “But not enough to pull out.”

Falvey turned on him. “Why should I? I do my job! What Frank does is none of my business!” He caught himself then. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re doing the talking,” Demery said. “Maybe I don’t know everything; but living within six miles of that place, and watching you, I know enough.”

Abruptly, Manring pulled Falvey around by his coat lapels. “Willis, are you packing a gun?”

Falvey shook his head emphatically. “It’s on my saddle. Gun and holster both hanging on the saddle.”

Manring released him, stepping back. “Let’s see.”

Falvey’s hands went to his coat. He unbuttoned it and was holding it open when Manring’s fist drove into his face. Head and shoulders snapped back and as his knees buckled Manring hit him again.

“Leave him alone!” Bowen was on Manring pushing him away and Demery caught Falvey before he could fall.

Manring stepped back, looking at Bowen now. “You’re a real do-gooder, aren’t you?”

“Earl, get out of here. Take a look out back; then bring the dun around and saddle another horse.”

“So you’re bossing,” Manring said mildly.

Bowen nodded. “Now you’re sure of it.”

“That’s a lot of order giving,” Manring said, “for a man who’s still got numbers on his pants.”

Bowen moved the revolver toward him. “You’re on a poor end for arguing about it, Earl.” He held the revolver on him until Manring turned and went out through the kitchen.

To Falvey, Bowen said, “You’d better sit down.”

Falvey shook his head. “I’m all right.” He took out a handkerchief to wipe the blood from his mouth, then turned to the bar and drank down the whiskey still in his glass.

Demery watched Bowen move to one of the front windows. “You didn’t see Karla,” he said. “You couldn’t have.”

Looking out across the yard to the willows Bowen said, “I saw her. She passed us just before…just before we ran off.”

“I mean,” Demery said, “you didn’t talk to her.”

Bowen looked at him now. “She wanted to tell me something, but Brazil was there.” It seemed a long time ago and he had almost forgotten it.

“Well, it doesn’t matter now,” Demery said.

“What doesn’t?”

“Man, you got a new trial coming up. New evidence, new trial, new everything!”

“What-”

“You heard me right-a new trial! With about an eighty per cent chance of going free. But you have to break out and ruin any chance you ever had!”

Bowen stared at him. “How do you know?”

“We heard from Lyall Martz.”

“Karla didn’t tell me anything about a new trial! How was I to know-”

“She told you about the lawyer!”

“That was talk.”

“Talk!” Demery said hotly. “Those two have been working for you for a month-Karla pleading at Lyall and Lyall pulling more strings than a four-team driver. And all the time you’re thinking how to do it the hard way. You couldn’t wait. Got to bust out with your bare hands as if that would prove something.” Demery moved around the end of the bar. He poured whiskey into a glass and pushed it at Bowen. “Have a drink.”

Bowen exhaled slowly. He raised the glass and drank off the whiskey. He tried to smile then. “I guess my timing’s poor.”

“I guess it is,” Demery said. He hesitated before adding, “But maybe not so poor to be too late.”

“What do you mean?”

Demery looked at Falvey. “Willis, if this man gives himself up, will you look after him, be responsible for him till a marshal comes from Prescott?”

Falvey hesitated. “I don’t see how I could.”

“You could stay right here. We’ll lock him in a room and you could stand right there at the bar till the Prescott man comes.”

“I don’t have the authority-”

“Damn it, take the authority!”

Falvey shook his head. “It’s out of my jurisdiction.”

“Willis, the man just saved you from getting your head beat in!”

“I’m sorry-”

Demery shook his head. “He’s sorry.”

Bowen placed his elbows on the bar, leaning toward Demery. “What’d the lawyer find out, Mr. Demery?”

“All the things that should’ve come out at the trial,” the station agent said. “Lyall found the man who’d forged the cattleman’s name on the bill of sale.”

“Then Earl didn’t do it.”

“No,” Demery said. “He didn’t do it. He paid to have it done.”

“You’re sure.”

“Of course I’m sure. This forger’s name is Roy Avery. He confessed to his part and told everything he knew.”

Bowen shook his head. “I never heard of him.”

“Avery says he never heard of you either,” Demery said. “He signed a statement that it was his understanding Manring was in it alone. He said you must’ve been hired just as a hand.”

“How’d the lawyer get Avery to make the statement?” asked Bowen.

“Lyall’s full of tricks,” Demery said. “But he might’ve just held a gun on him for all I know.”

“I’m obliged to him.”

“You sure as hell are.” Demery paused before saying, “That’s some partner you’ve got. Takes you to jail with him.”

“I don’t call him a partner.”

“But you break out together.”

“That’s a long story.”

“I bet it is.”

“Listen,” Bowen said, “till Karla started this, Earl was innocent as far as I knew. I was mad because he got me into it, but after a while I thought: If you have to live with him then you might as well make the best of it. I never cared for his ways, but I never had cause to doubt him till Karla talked to the lawyer.”

“But after she talked to him,” Demery said, “and told you about it, you still teamed with him to break out.”

“When you’re behind the fence,” Bowen said, “you don’t think the same as when you’re outside. A chance comes to run, you take it-even if you have doubts about the man you’re running with.”

“But no doubts now?”

“I guess not.”

Demery said, “I still don’t know why he didn’t clear you at the trial. He didn’t gain anything by your going to prison.”

Bowen shook his head. “I don’t know either. But we’re going to find out.”

“Knowing won’t do you any good,” Demery said, “unless you get out of here before Renda comes.”

“No, Mr. Demery, I don’t think I’ll leave now.”

“Frank won’t accept this lawyer thing. He’ll think up an excuse to shoot you.”

“I’ll take a chance.”

“What about the Mimbres?”

“Damn-everything at once.”

“You got a lot to think about.”

“But you take the important one first, don’t you?”

“That’s what they say.”

“And that’s Earl. Earl’s not leaving either.”

As Bowen said this, he heard the back screen door slam and he stepped around the end of the bar to be facing the doorway. Lizann’s revolver was in front of him on the bar. Manring’s steps sounded from the kitchen, then he was in the doorway, standing hip-cocked and wearing Willis Falvey’s Colt.

“You coming?”

“We’re not going anywhere, Earl.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Get to it, Bowen thought, and he said, “Your friend Avery made a statement.”

Manring straightened slowly, letting his hands slide from his hips. “Are you talking to me?”

“You know I am.”

“I don’t know any Avery. Avery what?”

“You’ll meet him again at the trial.”

“Somebody’s been fooling you, boy.” Manring’s eyes went to Demery. “What’s he been making up?”

Bowen raised his elbows to the bar. “Unstrap the gun, Earl, and we won’t have to talk so much.”

“What’s he been telling you?”

“I already said it. Avery made a statement and there’s going to be a new trial. You’re going to be there to tell it in your own words.”

Manring shook his head. “Corey, a man can talk you into just about anything, can’t he?”

“I guess he can.”

“A real honest-to-God do-gooder.”

“You better start unbuckling the belt.”

“Corey, don’t you see what he’s done?” Manring shook his head again and a faint smile showed in his beard. “He’s made up that story to stall us. He figured how to get to you right away and made up this story about a new trial. We already had one. They don’t try a man twice. Don’t you know that? A man can’t be tried twice for the same crime. That’s a law.”

Demery said, “There’s a pile of poor reasoning going on in this room.”

Manring’s hands moved to his hips again as he glanced at Demery. “If I was in your shoes I’d quit pushing it.”

Watch him, Bowen thought. Every move. Briefly his eyes dropped to the revolver on the bar. Looking up again, its position was in his mind and he knew where his hand would go if it had to.

“Corey,” Manring said. “There’s a reward for helping bring back escaped convicts. That’s what the old man is thinking about. It’s worth making up a story for.”

“Earl, why didn’t you tell at the trial I was innocent?”

“I did! We both were.”

“You know what I mean.”

Manring shook his head wearily. “If you’re going to keep talking like that, I’m going on by myself.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Manring paused, staring at Bowen. “I’m walking out, Corey. If you want to stop me, you’ll have to shoot me in the back.”

Bowen said nothing.

“Corey, I don’t have any fight against you. Even right now.” Manring’s voice was quiet and seemed edged with disappointment. “But I can’t stand here and listen to any more. If you want to stay, all right. Then we’ll part company right now.”

His eyes dropped and he turned to walk through the doorway, but he stopped in the middle of his stride with the unmistakable sound of a hammer being cocked-a thin, metallic click, and after that, silence.

Facing the doorway, Manring didn’t move. Then, slowly, in the silence, he seemed to relax and he said, “All right, Corey.” He turned carefully, then shook his head seeing the revolver leveled at him. “Now what’re you doing that for?” He started toward Bowen. “Put the gun down, Corey. We’ll talk it over-get everything out in the open.”

“Unfasten the gun belt,” Bowen said. “Let it drop.”

Manring came on. Reaching the bar, he said, “For a minute there, Corey, you scared hell out of me. I almost thought you were going to shoot.” His left hand brought the whiskey bottle toward him and he glanced at Bowen. “You want one?”

Bowen shook his head. His hand on the bottle-he was thinking it, expecting what was to happen, the next moment going to his left away from the end of the bar as Manring’s hand suddenly swept the whiskey bottle at him. With the sound of it smashing against the wall, Manring’s hand was drawing the Colt, clearing it from the holster as he pushed himself away from the bar, seeing Bowen with a hand and a knee on the floor, and at that moment Bowen fired. It was over as suddenly as it had started.

Manring dropped the Colt as he went down and rolled to his side, his hands clutched tightly to his right thigh.

Demery moved toward him, glancing at Bowen. “You’re low today.”

Bowen nodded. “I don’t want Earl to miss the trial on my account.”

They carried Manring into Demery’s bedroom and placed him on the bed. Bowen moved to the doorway in line with the front windows and stood there as Demery bound Manring’s leg to stop the bleeding.

“He’s lucky,” Demery said. “A bigger gun would’ve busted it.”

“What about moving him?” Bowen said. “Can he travel?”

“I don’t see why not,” Demery said. “I’ll take you to Fuegos in the wagon. Let the doctor look at him, then board the stage. We’ll give Earl a stick to bite on for the bumps.”

Bowen moved closer to the bed. “You hear that, Earl? You’re going to trial.”

Manring stared at the ceiling and said nothing.

“Earl, why didn’t you tell them I was innocent?”

Manring looked at him then. “You must be awful lucky to get by as dumb as you are.”

“You didn’t gain by it,” Bowen said. “Once you were sentenced, why didn’t you explain how it was?”

“What’s the difference?” Manring said. “You’d still be here.”

“Is that the only reason-because they wouldn’t believe you even if you told?”

“There’s a real dumb do-gooder for you,” Manring said. His expression changed to anger. “You forget that night before the trial!”

Puzzled, Bowen said, “In the jail cell?”

“In the cell-when you tried to beat my head in!”

“You let me get sent to Yuma for that?”

“Listen to him,” Manring said. “You got what you drawed, boy. Thinking you’re so damn better than anybody else-dumb as you are-you deserved to get sent away.”

“Earl, that doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, think about it a while. In your case it takes longer to sink in.”

Demery said, “I’d have aimed higher, Corey. About two feet up and a little to the left.”

Manring glared at him. “You and your mouth can go to hell.”

Bowen turned as Falvey appeared in the doorway. “Somebody’s coming,” Falvey said, and as he did they could hear hoofbeats in the yard.

Bowen moved past him, going to a front window. He saw her then, already dismounting, and heard Demery say, “It’s Karla,” going out the door, the screen slamming behind him. Through the window he saw Karla running to her father. She was telling him something, but he could hear only a few of her words: Renda…and Lizann Falvey…and Mimbres. Something about Mimbres.

He could hear their steps, the screen door opening and Karla’s voice clearly now, though she was out of breath and spoke hurriedly-

“They’re up on the hill-at least five or six, but I’m not sure because I came on them unexpectedly. They were all dismounted and I recognized the head one. He was there. The one who wears the hat-”

She saw Bowen then.