A Deeper Sense of Loyalty (15 page)

George had gotten back from his trip to Macon and gone home for the day by the time James got back from the compound. After he delivered the paperwork his father wanted, he secretly filled a brown paper bag with food and sneaked it out to the barn as promised. He told Israel to be ready because they would be leaving sometime that evening. The difficult part was breaking the news to his parents that he would have to shorten his stay. James told them that because of the recent battle at Manassas, he should be getting back to Richmond. He knew that his explanation was rather vague but in spite of their disappointment, they said they understood.

By nine o'clock, the Langdons were ready to retire and James was ready to leave. He assured his parents he would write to them soon and they quickly concluded their goodbyes. As he got to the barn, he looked back at the house in time to see the light go out in the upstairs hallway. It was very difficult to leave after such a short visit; especially since he had no idea when he might get home again. He saddled Star, then with a lantern in one hand, he climbed the ladder to the mow. James called to Israel in a low voice and the slave and the boy came out from their hiding place. They all climbed to the ground and James went outside to take another look towards the house. It was completely dark. He mounted his horse, sitting back in the saddle as far as possible. “Hand the boy up,” he told Israel. He sat the boy halfway on his lap then he helped Israel to climb up behind him. He was glad that it was a cloudy night. Shrouded in darkness, they headed down to the main road and turned in the direction of Dry Branch.

 

ELEVEN

 

Showdown in Dry Branch

 

 

A light rain was falling by the time James reached the edge of town with Israel and the boy. It was very early in the morning, but no time day or night would be safe in the company of the two slaves. He swung to the right of town, rode down behind the buildings and stopped about a hundred yards out from the back of his house. He was bending the rules again by not keeping his activity completely away from Dry Branch. It didn't matter that he had not taken Israel and the boy away from his uncle's plantation, that he had merely intercepted them. It didn't matter that his uncle had reported nothing and was, in fact, conducting his own search. He was still pushing his luck, which he would be out of if Sheriff Wilkes caught him.

His idea was to sneak them into the house, hide them in the cellar, then devise a plan to move them north the following night. James dismounted and told Israel to stay put until he could make sure that all was quiet. It took several minutes to cross the distance to the house as he carefully checked his footing in near complete darkness. Fumbling with the key at the back door, he was about to insert it into the lock when he reached for the knob and realized that the door was already ajar. His first instinct was to clear out fast, but instead he pushed the door open slowly and stepped into the pitch black room. Holding his revolver in one hand, he struck a match with the other. Even in the dim light James could see that someone had been there, and whoever it was had not been polite about it. Cupboard doors were hanging open; furniture had been overturned and tossed about. Whatever had happened, he knew for certain that it was not safe for him to be there.

As quickly as possible, he groped his way down to the cellar and retrieved the leather money pouch that was hidden in the stone wall. Then he gathered the few belongings he kept there and left. “Something is wrong,” James told Israel when he returned to where he'd left him and the boy. “Stay on the horse.” He grabbed the reins and led Star through the darkness until they were behind the livery stable. Again he told the two of them to wait and to stay quiet no matter what. Fearing that his next move might be a very regrettable one, he went to the back of Polly's house and tapped gently on the door. He kept it up until finally he saw light through the window. From inside, a nervous voice whispered, “Who's there?”

“Polly, it's James.”

“James, my God,” she said as she opened the door. “What's wrong? What are you doing here at this hour?”

“I just got back to town. Something is terribly wrong. Someone ransacked my house. I have to get away from here, but I just had to say goodbye. I can't come back here again.”

“Oh, James,” she said sadly. “Won't I ever see you again?”

“If the world ever becomes normal again you will. I promise you, Polly. When all of this is over I'll be back.”

“Wait just a minute,” she said. “Don't leave yet. There is something I want to give you.”

She walked into the parlor and a few seconds later James heard a loud crash as someone kicked in the front door. Then Polly screamed and a loud voice shouted, “Where the hell is he?”

James wanted to leap out the back door but Polly was in trouble. He hurried into the parlor with his revolver at the ready but it would do him no good. Who else would the intruder be but Sheriff Wilkes? His gun was also drawn and pointed at Polly's head and he held her tightly around the waist.

“Drop that shooter or this young lady's gonna have a bad accident.” James immediately dropped his weapon and the sheriff shoved Polly towards a chair. “Sit down and be still,” he told her. Then he ordered James to sit in the chair next to her. He sat down feeling like the biggest fool in the world for believing that he had gotten the sheriff off his trail. Either Wilkes was the smarter one or something had happened to point a finger back at James. In any case, he was kicking himself for not moving away from Dry Branch. Far too much had happened and he should have known that the ice was too thin.

Suddenly, the sheriff's mood changed from bad to an imitated version of pleasant. Apparently he had James right where he wanted him and he was enjoying the moment.

“Well now, young people,” he said. “I hope you all are in a lively mood because we're gonna have a party. But we can't start yet because not all of the guests have arrived. It will only be a minute or two.” James looked over at Polly. She was white knuckled and terrified. He felt a paralyzing sense of regret inside for getting her mixed up in such a mess. The sound of a horse's whinny came from out back, and then footsteps entered through the door. Into the parlor walked Israel, the boy, and another man behind them carrying a shotgun. “Here we are at last,” said the sheriff. “Now the party can commence. Just a couple small details. Roscoe,” he said to the man with the shotgun. “Tie that nigger up and sit him on the floor then tie that nigger lover, too, and tie em tight. Sit that boy down, but no need to tie him. He ain't goin nowhere.”

When everything was to the sheriff's satisfaction, he holstered his pistol and stuck James's revolver in his belt. Roscoe took a seat and laid his shotgun across his lap. “I must say, Mr. Mason, if that's your real name, that you had me fairly convinced for a while there and you are a man of considerable luck. But your luck has run out for good. You ever hear of the Carlton brothers?”

“No, I never have,” James answered.

“Well, that ain't important. But what is important is that there are only two of them and there used to be three. The third brother was the overseer at Live Oak Plantation, you know, the one that was killed the night of the escape? All three of em worked over there. After they rounded up all the niggers that didn't get away, the remaining two Carltons couldn't wait to go after the wagonload that did. So the following morning they took two extra men and picked up the trail. What you didn't know was that your horse had a loose shoe on his right front hoof and it left a real funny print. Now these two boys are pretty damn good trackers and it wasn't any trouble at all to follow that wagon right to the farm owned by a man name Sam Gilmore. I know you heard of him.” James didn't answer and the sheriff continued. “After a search of the place, do you know what they found? That's right. They found the wagon and they found the nigger you had to leave behind. I'll tell you that those Carlton boys were real upset with Gilmore what with him helpin niggers escape, especially since their brother was killed. So they gave his wife five minutes to get what she could from the house before they set fire to it. Then they scattered the livestock and set the barn on fire, too. Those boys sure do have a good sense of justice. It was their intention to take Gilmore to Chattanooga to stand trial for treason, but don't you know he tried to run and the boys just had to shoot him down. But that's not the end of the story, not by a damn sight. The brothers sent one man back to Live Oak in the wagon that hauled them runaways along with the nigger they found in the barn. Then they took up the chase again. By the way, that nigger that went back to the plantation is dead. It turned out that he was the scum that did in the overseer. They hanged him and threw his body in the hog pen. And now we come to the part of the story that will interest you the most, Mr. Mason. Our livery man here in town, Merle Fitch, goes out to Live Oak now and then to do some blacksmithin chores. As it happens, he was out there yesterday, and when he saw the wagon that the Carlton boys sent back he recognized it as the one he sold to you. When I found out you were out of town I had Roscoe here, do some sentry duty, and when he saw you sneakin around out back tonight he came and got me. But, I promised you all a party, and I always keep my word. We're gonna have a necktie party.”

Up until that moment, Wilkes had been smiling and having a very good time. James despised the man and his matter of fact way of describing the destruction of a good family like the Gilmores. Then the sheriff's demeanor changed, the smile turned ugly, and he said, “After all you did and you still have the guts to come back to this town with two more runaway niggers. I warned you before about what I'd do if I could prove that you were up to no good. Well, I won't waste time or expense on you now my friend. I don't even need to know if your name is really Mason. I reckon I can put Nigger Lover on your marker and it will serve you just as good. As for you, Miss Polly, I think I'll let you sit in my jail for a few days so you can think twice about getting mixed up with a lowlife traitor like this again. Roscoe, go over to my office and fetch that hangin rope that's on my desk and hurry up about it. I wanna get this thing done.”

Roscoe stood his shotgun up against the wall and hurried out the front door. James was frantic in his mind trying desperately to think of a way out of his predicament.  He knew if he failed he was going to be dead in a very short time.

The minutes ticked by. It wouldn't take Roscoe long to get back with the rope. James wondered where the sheriff intended to take him. There were trees close by that would be large enough. He looked at Polly as if to say that he was doomed.

“Sheriff Wilkes,” said Polly. “Since you mean to put me in jail, may I please get a few things from the trunk over there to take with me?” At first, the sheriff did not seem inclined to be at all agreeable, but then he relented.

“You can take a change of clothes if you want to.” He did not pay much attention to the seemingly harmless girl as she went to the trunk and opened the lid. He just sat there holding a steady stare at James. Polly bent over, took a dress from the trunk and while maintaining her posture, she folded it. But when she straightened up and turned toward the sheriff, she was holding a six shot pepper box in her hand. James had never seen a man so taken by surprise. “What in the hell do you think you're doing?” he asked.

“I'm keeping you from committing murder,” she answered.
“Murder! Have you lost your mind?”

“Don't try to stall, Sheriff. Roscoe will be here any time now. With your left thumb and finger, pull those guns out one at a time and toss them across the floor. If you don't, I'll shoot you.”

James had no idea whether or not Polly would actually pull the trigger, and apparently the sheriff wasn't too sure either. But he was not willing to find out. He did as he was told, and when he was unarmed, she backed over to James and produced a straight razor, which she had also removed from the trunk. Polly cut the ropes from James's wrists and he quickly gathered the guns from the floor. Then he removed the shells from Roscoe's shotgun and put it back against the wall. He took his seat again, holding his revolver behind his back. “Now, Wilkes, you be still and don't be tempted to call out to Roscoe. We'll just let him walk in like the obedient little fellow he is.”

Just a single breath later, Roscoe walked through the door carrying a coil of rope with a noose on one end. He picked up the shotgun then turned to Wilkes and said, “Are we all set, Sheriff?”

“Not quite,” said James, as he stood up aiming his revolver in their direction. To give credit where it is due, Roscoe showed more nerve than the sheriff as he raised the shotgun and pulled back the hammers. To James he said, “You better be a good shot because if we both pull the trigger, there ain't no way I'm gonna miss.” James didn't answer. He just reached into his pocket, pulled out the shotgun shells and held them up for Roscoe to see. “Now lay it down and push the door shut. OK, Wilkes. You and your partner go sit on the floor with your backs to the wall. Polly, cut Israel loose.”

James reloaded the shotgun and handed it to Israel. “Do you know how to use this?”

“Yes, sir, I knows.”

“All right, then you stay over here far out of reach but you keep that thing pointed right at them. If they move a muscle, shoot.”

James knew he had nothing to worry about. Nothing in the world would keep those two bigots still like a black man pointing a gun at them. Then he took Polly out behind the house so they could talk without being heard.

“Are you all right, Polly?”

“Yes. I'm just a little shaken, I guess. I'm so thankful that the sheriff didn't challenge me. I'm not sure what would have happened.”

“I owe you my life. I'm very grateful.”