Texas Iron

Chapter Twenty-two

Burkett sent some of his men to look the town over. One of the men, Bud Poke, came back and said he had found Tom Kelly.

“Show me,” Burkett said.

“He ain’t wearin’ a badge, boss.”

Burkett looked at Conners and said, “Go and see the mayor.”

“Right.”

Burkett and Poke walked over to the café where Kelly was having breakfast.

“Looks like you lost your badge, Tom,” Burkett said.

Kelly looked up from his meal at the two men.

“Mr. Burkett—” Kelly said, starting to get up.

Burkett put his hand on Kelly’s shoulder and pushed him back down, then sat across from him.

“Tell me what happened…”

Conners met Burkett coming out of the café.

“Kelly’s not sheriff any more,” Burkett said. “He gave up his badge rather than face McCall. Damn it!”

“You ain’t gonna like this, boss,” Conners said. “Sam McCall’s the new sheriff.”

“What?”

“The mayor says he picked up the badge when Kelly put it down. There was nothing he could do about it.”

“That incompetent—well, if McCall thinks this is going to change anything, he’s wrong.”

“But…he’s the law now.”

“He wasn’t elected,” Burkett said, “and the mayor will swear afterward that he didn’t appoint him. Badge or no badge, Sam McCall is a dead man.”

“What do you see?” Sam asked.

He was seated behind the desk while Jubal was positioned at a window.

“Nothing,” Jubal said. “The town looks quiet. I guess Burkett and his men must have put their horses in the livery.”

“The Swede wouldn’t be able to accommodate that many horses,” Sam said. “They’re probably in a corral behind the livery.”

“Same thing.”

“He hasn’t even got a man watching the jail?”

“Not that I can see through this hole,” Jubal said. “If I open the shutter—”

“Forget that,” Sam said. “He’s probably got a man up on a rooftop. If you open that shutter you’ll be dead.”

Jubal turned and looked at Sam.

“You don’t think the fact that you’re now the sheriff will keep him from—”

“I wasn’t elected, Jube,” Sam said, “and I wasn’t even appointed. I don’t know that I’d stand up in court as sheriff of Vengeance Creek.”

“Why did you take the badge, then?”

Sam shrugged. “It shut the mayor up, didn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Jubal said, “I guess it did.”

“You want some coffee?”

“I’m up to here with coffee. I could use a beer, though.”

“Sorry, no beer.”

“I could go down to the saloon and get two—”

“If you walk out that door,” Sam said, “you’re a dead man.”

“I guess I could do without a beer.”

“How about lunch?”

Jubal made a face and said, “Beans?”

Sam nodded.

“I’ll skip it.”

“I could open a can of fruit.”

“Wait a minute—”

“You want the beans?”

“No,” Jubal said, “something’s happening.”

“What?”

“Come and see for yourself.”

“All right,” Burkett said to Conners, “set the men up the way we discussed.”

“Right, boss.”

“I’ll be at the saloon. Let me know when they’re all in place.”

“Yessir.”

Conners turned to the men, who were all gathered by the corral behind the livery, and said, “All right, boys.

Take up your positions. There’s to be no shooting until you hear it from me or Mr. Burkett. Understood?”

They all nodded.

“Then get moving.”

Sam took up position at the other window, and he and Jubal watched while Burkett’s men moved into what was obviously prearranged positions across from the jail.

“Counting?” Sam asked.

“Twenty? Maybe more?”

“The rest must be on the rooftops.”

“Did you see Burkett?”

“No, not yet,” Sam said. “He’ll come along later, to give us a chance to come out quietly.”

Jubal looked at Sam and said, “Have you been through this before?”

“Once or twice,” Sam said, “in different surroundings, but the basic situation was the same.”

“What did you do those times?”

“Hold fast and wait for help to arrive.”

Jubal frowned.

“Isn’t that what they did at the Alamo?”

“Let’s hope that’s the only resemblance to this situation.”

When Chuck Conners entered the saloon Lincoln Burkett was seated at a back table with a bottle of whiskey. It was early enough that he was the only customer in the place. Burkett had not yet gone to the undertaker’s to see his son’s body. He wouldn’t do that until he could tell his dead son that he had killed Sam McCall.

Conners approached the table and waited to be noticed. Burkett poured himself another drink and downed it before doing so.

“Well?”

“All the men are in position, sir.”

“All right,” Burkett said, picking up his hat and standing up. “Let’s get this done.”

Sam and Jubal were at their positions at the windows, holding their rifles, when Lincoln Burkett strode into view across the street, Chuck Conners at his elbow. Conners, like all of the other men, was holding a rifle. Burkett had no rifle, and his handgun was in his holster.

“Hello in the jail! McCall!” Burkett called out.

“I hear you, Burkett,” Sam replied.

“Come on out, McCall,” Burkett said. “Let’s finish this like men.”

“Sure,” Sam called out, “me against thirty of your men.”

“Just you and me McCall,” Burkett said.

“He’s lying,” Jubal said.

“Of course he is.”

“McCall!” Burkett shouted. “I’ll let your brother come out. I have no quarrel with him.”

Jubal looked at Sam, who seemed to be considering the offer.

“This is Jubal McCall, Burkett!” Jubal shouted. “I’m staying right here.”

“You’re a foolish young man.”

“No,” Jubal said, “your son was a foolish young man. He tried to backshoot my brother, and he paid for it.”

“Then you’ll both die!” Burkett yelled. Burkett turned to his men and said, “Fire!”

“Down!” Sam said.

Sam and Jubal hit the floor as lead began to rain down on the jail. From inside it almost sounded like rain. Chunks of lead chewed up the wooden shutters, but they stayed in place, relatively intact, except that a lot more light was shining through them when the shooting stopped.

“Is it over?” Jubal asked. He lifted his head and wood splinters fell off it to the floor.

“For the moment,” Sam said, brushing himself off.

“How are we ever to get off a shot?”

“Quiet, Jube,” Sam said. “Let’s here what he has to say.”

“McCall!”

“We’re still here.”

“Send out Coffin.”

“Why?” Sam called. “So you can have another gun? No, thanks. I’m holding Coffin until the federal marshal arrives, and then I’m turning him over for the murder of my brother.”

“Your brother, my son,” Burkett said. “They’re both dead. How many more have to die?”

“That’s up to you, Burkett.”

Sam and Jubal heard Burkett shout, “Fire!” and they ducked down again.

When the second volley of shots sounded Serena bolted for the door of the store. Her father, moving more swiftly than even he thought he could move, grabbed her by the arms, stopping her.

“Let me go!”

“We’ll have to stay here, Serena,” Miller said. “We can’t give Sam anything else to think about, and if you’re on the street, that’s what you’re going to do.”

“Someone has to help them.”

“And you’re that someone?” Miller asked. “Are you going to take a rifle and go out there and help them? You’ll do more harm than good out there, Serena, believe me.”

As most of the townspeople had done, Dude Miller had closed his store, locked it, and remained inside. There was no one on the street except Lincoln Burkett and his men.

As they stood there, eyes locked, the second volley of shots ceased and it became quiet again.

“I want to hear what they’re saying, Papa.”

Dude Miller frowned, but he said, “All right. Let’s open the door a crack.”

They did so, and found that they could hear both Lincoln Burkett and Sam McCall.

“You can’t hold out, McCall. We’ll chew that building to pieces.”

“Go ahead and chew, then,” Sam called back. “We ain’t comin’ out.”

“You know,” Jubal said. “It’d be a lot simpler if you had killed Coffin and we had John Burkett in here.”

Sam looked at Jubal and said, “Sorry I didn’t think about that yesterday.”

“I was just saying,” Jubal said, “not criticizing.”

“I understand, and I agree.”

Sam sneaked a look out the window. The bottom half of his wooden shutter had been blown away. He only had time for a short look because as soon as they saw his head a couple of men started firing. He ducked back down.

“Burkett’s got his men well schooled,” Sam said. “I don’t even have time to get a shot off at him. He’s probably got two men on each window with orders to shoot as soon as they see someone.”

“So then we can’t fire back.”

“Not with any effectiveness.”

As he said that the third volley of shots commenced.

With parts of the shutters gone the lead was able to enter the office. The coffeepot leaped off the stove, lead imbedded itself in the walls, and one or two slugs managed to hit something and ricochet off.

“That’s great,” Jubal said. “Now we have to worry about being hit by a ricochet.”

Sam didn’t reply.

“McCall,” Burkett called, “I’m giving you some time to think over your position—but don’t take too long!”

All of a sudden holing up in there didn’t seem like a very good move. What they should have done was leave town with Coffin and meet up with the marshal somewhere along the way. Still, if they had done that they could have been ridden down by Burkett and his men. At least here they had cover—for as long as the building was standing.

“What do we do if they rush us?” Jubal asked.

“That’s a strong door, it should hold for a while,” Sam said. “First man through the door knows he’ll be dead.

Burkett’s gonna have to find someone who wants to come through first. That’ll take some time.”

“Sam,” Jubal said, sitting with his back to the wall, “I don’t see how we can hold out for two more days.”

“Well” Sam said, scratching his head, “maybe he’ll get here early.”

“And maybe Christmas will be early, too.”

One of the things they had established early on was the lack of a back door. It seemed then that this would work in their favor. Now Sam was thinking of another way out of the jail.

“What are you thinking?” Jubal asked.

“I’m tryin’ to think of another way out of here.”

“What good would that do?”

“Well, if we could slip out it might take Burkett a while to decide that we were gone. By the time he decided to storm the jail we’d be long gone.”

“To where?”

“On the trail,” Sam said. “Maybe we could meet up with the marshal.”

“If this marshal is riding alone, he ain’t going to do us much good.”

“I don’t think Burkett would kill a duly appointed officer of the law. That would undo everything he’s accomplished here so far.”

“Well, the only other way out is through those barred windows in the cells,” Jubal said. “We just have to find a way to get those bars off.”

“Well, then,” Sam said, “let’s look around the office and see what we can find to do that with.”

“Why are you giving them time?” Chuck Conners asked Burkett.

Lincoln Burkett stroked his jaw and said, “I just thought of an easy way to get them out of there.”

“We can set the jail on fire.”

“No,” Burkett said, “that would endanger the buildings around it.”

“What about dynamite?”

“Same thing.” Burkett looked at Conners and said, “I’m supposed to be a good citizen of this town. How would it look if I burned it down?”

“What are we gonna do, then?”

“There’s one person in this town they might come out for.”

“Who?”

“Grab two men and follow me.”

“The shooting has stopped,” Serena said.

“For now.”

“What do you think—” Serena started to ask, but she stopped short when four men appeared at the door.

“Wha—” she said, but the man in front pushed the door open and she staggered back.

“What’s going on here?” Dude Miller demanded.

The fourth man to enter was Lincoln Burkett.

“What do you want, Burkett?”

“I need your daughter’s help, Miller.”

“My daughter?”

“Yes” Burkett said, “I think the McCall boys would come out if she asked them.”

“I won’t ask them.”

Burkett frowned at her.

“I was hoping you’d cooperate, but that doesn’t matter.

You’re coming along anyway.”

Burkett waved his arm, and the two men with him and Conners grabbed her arms.

“Hey!” she said.

“Let her go—” Miller started, but Chuck Conners stepped in front of him and hit him once on the jaw.

Miller slumped to the floor, unconscious.

“Papa!” Serena cried. She looked at Burkett and asked, “Why are you doing this?”

“As I said,” Burkett replied, “I need your help with the McCalls.”

“To kill them?”

“That’s up to them. Take her outside,” Burkett said to the men holding her. “Let’s see how Sam McCall reacts to this.”