Savage Guns

TWENTY

Judge Nippers was parked in his swivel chair, drunk as a skunk, so I rattled his shoulder some to fetch him awake.

“Huh? Huh?” he said, and grabbed for the little revolver he kept in his desk drawer.

“It’s me,” I said. “Put that piece back.”

He did.

“You up to talkin’?”

“I’m up to whatever the world throws at me. I am a sterling public servant, and won’t abide your insults.”

“You mind if I hang King Bragg from a cottonwood limb?”

“Mind! Of course I mind! The boy’s gonna be hanged proper, from a scaffold, by the Territory of Wyoming, just as fine and fitting as can be done. And no shortcuts. No tree limbs. This’ll be done in a professional fashion.”

“Ah, there’s a little problem,” I said. I told him about the Cleggs comin’ to town and getting their timbers stolen.

“Admiral Bragg’s work,” Nippers said.

“The robbers were masked, and we can’t prove it.”

“Well, it’s perfectly obvious. You tell Admiral Bragg to cease and desist or I’ll hang him from the same gibbet after he watches his boy swing.”

That was booze talkin’ and I let it pass. “It may take the Cleggs a while to get that scaffold up, if we keep running into trouble. It may not be ready in time.”

“Well, then I’ll issue a brief stay. When it’s up, I’ll give the go-ahead.”

“There may be a lot of delays. Depends on how much Admiral Bragg wants to slow it down.”

Nippers eyed me coolly. “Then spirit the young punk to Laramie. Armed guard, middle of the night. Let Laramie enjoy the hanging.”

“Our merchants won’t be happy with that,” I said. “They’re already stocked up for crowds of people having a party. George Waller, he says most every merchant in town’s laid in food and picnic stuff. There’ll be people from all over Puma County coming in for the show, and they’ll spend good money. If we move the hanging, you’re gonna have Mayor Waller and every merchant in town mad as hornets. It ain’t just the merchants either. I’ve already employed Doc Harrison to declare him dead. And Sammy Upward’s advertising half-price drinks after the show, and free hard-boiled eggs.”

“Tough beans,” Nippers said. “If I say spirit the prisoner out, you’re going to spirit the prisoner out. If I say hang the bastard in Laramie, you’re gonna hang the bastard in Laramie. And if the merchants whine, I’ll tell them to elect someone else next time. I’m tired of being a magistrate anyway.”

“Well, don’t do that until I see whether we can get the scaffold up. I’m going out there and escort the Cleggs next time they’re hauling wood.”

“You do that,” Nippers said. He’d found his flask, and was losing interest in me.

I abandoned the Puma County courthouse and headed back to my jail, only to run into Crayfish Ruble, standing right there with Plug Parsons at his side, grinning at me like he wanted to spill a little blood.

“Hold up there, Sheriff,” Ruble said.

“I got no business with you,” I said.

“We got word that the Cleggs got held up by Admiral Bragg’s men, and they made off with the gallows timbers.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“From Old Man Clegg. He was on his way out of Doubtful.”

“I’m on it. And it’s not going to happen again. I’ve sent a deputy to tell Admiral Bragg that ain’t gonna stop a thing and he’s obstructing justice.”

Ruble just laughed. “Fat lot of good that’ll do.”

He riled me some, and Plug was itching for me to take a swing at his boss, but I just stood real quiet.

“Here’s the deal, Sheriff. We’re going to escort Clegg and his boys and those timbers into town, and if Admiral Bragg’s men try anything, they’ll be leaking blood into the ground.”

“No, you won’t,” I said. “You’re not going to do that. I’m a peace officer, and I’m not going to let a gang war start in Puma County. If you try that, I’ll throw your ass in jail.”

Plug, he just wheezed happily, like he could hardly wait for me to try it.

Truth was, the odds were pretty bad, but I was the law, and I wasn’t gonna let a bunch of gunslicks shoot it out.

That evening, Barter Clegg slipped into Doubtful and told me his old man was ready to haul wood in the morning. He said they’d worked real hard out there, and got the timbers ready, and wanted to leave before dawn, figuring they could get the timbers into town before anyone was up for the day. I told him I’d be there, and the kid slid away. I hoped no one was looking, but in Doubtful these days I never knew who was spying on me.

I found Rusty and DeGraff inside. “I’m going out to Clegg’s lumber mill, and I’m escorting the wagon in. They’ve cut some new wood. We’re driving back here before dawn.”

I stared real hard at them both. “Now you’re going to take care of the prisoner, feed him, and do it proper, because if he ain’t fed and cared for, you’re going to be looking for some other job.”

DeGraff got riled up. “Don’t blame me,” he said.

“I’m not blaming anyone. I’m just warning you that anyone fails to treat that boy proper, he’ll answer to me.”

“I don’t know why you bother when he’s gonna be cold meat in three days.”

“He’s gonna be taken care of proper until he hangs,” I said.

In fact, I think DeGraff was the one who wasn’t feeding the boy or cleaning his slop bucket when he was on duty, and I was thinking maybe I’d get a new deputy if he didn’t shape up real fast.

I went to the gun cabinet and looked things over, and finally selected a double-barrel twelve-gauge shotgun and some shells loaded with buckshot. The one I took with me had an eighteen-inch barrel, just right for making a good cone, but not so short it sprayed lead all over. I never thought much of shotguns, but that’s what I wanted this time. With my revolver I could put a pill through the ace of hearts at ten paces. That took some practice, and I took some pride in it, but this time I’d be alone against three, four, five of Admiral Bragg’s best. I respected all of them, especially Big Nose George and Spitting Sam, and I’d carry whatever advantage I could.

I got up in the middle of the night, when it was quiet and cold, and went to get Critter. He was dozing and had a fit, kicking his stall hard until I quieted him down.

“We’re going for a night ride,” I said, “so cut it out.”

He got the message, and didn’t even try to break my ribs by squeezing me into the wall, and pretty soon I got him saddled and bridled, and led him into the quiet night. He sniffed the air, snorted, and decided he was going to enjoy the trip.

Lemuel Clegg’s mill was about two hours away, so I started out there around three and rode in about five. There was enough moon so I could make them out. They had a draft horse hooked to the wagon, and on the bed were two more uprights, a crosspiece, and support timbers. They was loaded and ready, and we set out. None of them was armed, and that was good. I didn’t want some amateurs getting themselves kilt just because they was hauling metal.

It sure was a nice night. I didn’t try to talk none with the Cleggs, because I wanted to listen to all the night sounds. But we made two, three miles without trouble, until we come to a narrow place where the hills cramped the road some, and there was room enough for the road and the dry gulch running alongside.

I felt Critter tighten, and could just make out his ears rotating off to the left some. I didn’t wait for anything to unfold. I put my spurs to him, and he bolted left so hard it pretty near pitched me off the saddle, and sure enough, there was three or four horsemen waiting up ahead. I pulled the shotgun and barreled right in, and by the time they got wind of me I was on them, and I aimed one barrel at a knot of them. The shot must’ve caught men and horses too, because some of them nags, probably good blooded stock belonging to Admiral Bragg, were bucking and screeching and pitching their riders. I sure was curious to see who might show up in town wearing a few bandages.

It only took that one shot. One rider picked up a downed rider, and the mess of them hightailed away. I had my shotgun at the ready, but that bunch was gone. I pulled the empty shell and reloaded, and rode back.

“We’ll likely have no more trouble,” I said. The old man whupped his draft horse to life, and we creaked and groaned our way into Doubtful.

Them Cleggs unloaded the timbers on the courthouse square and took off for their mill. They needed to bring in another load of planks and two-by-fours for the platform, and I worried about them getting ambushed on the second trip. But I couldn’t be everywhere at once.

A lot of people studied them big timbers, but no one touched anything. I thought the timbers would be safe enough there, out in front of the whole town. But the presence of those timbers changed everything. Doubtful would soon be a place where a big crowd would watch a criminal boy get hanged, and a sort of brooding settled over the town. Them timbers did it. The timbers made everything real.

I found Judge Nippers and County Supervisor Reggie Thimble eating lunch at the beanery, and told them I thought the Cleggs would get the scaffold built proper, and tested proper, before the big event. Lem Clegg claimed to have built one before, and knew all about it, and knew how to test it out, with a weight on the trapdoor, so when I pulled the lever nothing would go wrong, and King Bragg would drop hard and fast. That would be exactly at eleven in the morning, in three days.

“Well, that’s fine,” Thimble said. “Build it to last. I’m all for it. If we can hang five or ten a year, pretty soon we’ll have the cost down to a few dimes a drop.”

I sure wasn’t enjoying the thought of hanging anyone, but I was the sheriff and I’d do what I had to do. But I kept wishing some piece of evidence would come along that would free the boy. I wasn’t sure he killed anyone, even if he once swaggered around Doubtful, making the most of being his father’s son. But boys are like that. He was a different boy now, back in the cell where he was going to spend the last hours of his life.

I kept an eye out for anyone with a bandage wandering around town, but no one like that showed up, and I knew that anyone injured by my buckshot was staying out at the Anchor Ranch, and not coming into Doubtful to get himself arrested by me.

The Cleggs made another round trip, this time with a heap of planks and studs and a cask of ten-penny nails. They unloaded the whole shebang in the courthouse square, and come over to the jailhouse to ask me just where to put up the gallows. I walked over there and had a look. It had to be in a place where everyone could see real clear that justice was done. I decided on a place fairly close to the Puma County Courthouse steps, so the crowd would gather down from the courthouse some. There sure were a mess of people around there, and I noticed the T-Bar men were sort of guarding that pile of lumber. Crayfish Ruble was making sure that nothing stopped the hanging of the killer of his three ranch hands.

It was a real quiet night, and the next morning the Cleggs were hard at work. They bolted the foot timbers to the uprights, and then bolted in the angle pieces so that each upright stood on a base and wasn’t gonna tip none. Then, while them uprights was still lying on the grass, they bolted down a spruce crossbar good and solid. And then the Cleggs got some big ropes and tied them to the crossbar, and began to tug the whole thing up in the air, so that by the end of the first day at work, they got the framework up and braced into place. It looked mighty solemn, and a lot of people stopped to stare at it. The merchants liked it because all them folks stayed right around town and went shopping. A few of the ladies bought spring bonnets they could wear for the hanging.

I told the Cleggs they could sleep in the jail if they wanted, and I saw Lemuel talk a little with Wage and Barter, and then they turned me down without sayin’ why. But I knew why. They didn’t want to bunk in any cell next to the condemned boy. So they drove out to their place that night, and planned to come back in the morning. If they stayed on schedule, they would frame the platform tomorrow, and put in the hardware, and spend the last day before the hanging testing it to make sure there was a good drop once I pulled the lever. I wanted a good drop for the boy too, so he didn’t just dangle there and choke to death real slow.

I didn’t know nothing about making a noose, but DeGraff said he did, so I was going to leave that to my deputy. I went over to Waller’s hardware and bought twenty yards of one-inch hemp rope, tough rope that wouldn’t bust when it took some weight, and I told DeGraff to make a noose, and we’d get her up there as soon as the Cleggs were ready.

Things were coming right along, all right.