MacCallister Kingdom Come (21 page)

Henry Crump and Vic Forney were making their first foray with the Kingdom Come Gang. For two men who had spent a lifetime participating in petty crime, it was a totally new experience. They were riding with a gang that now numbered a little over twenty riders.

“You know what this means, Forney?” Crump asked. “This means there can't nobody, nowhere, do nothin' to us, 'cause we're too strong. There ain't no sheriff in all of Texas with enough deputies to take us on.”

“No, no posse neither,” Forney said. “Leastwise, I ain't never seen a posse this large.”

Jaco held up his hand, and the sound of hoofbeats grew silent as the group of horsemen stopped. “There it is, boys. New Fountain.”

Slightly below and spread out on plains before them was a small town consisting of approximately thirty buildings. The road they had been following widened somewhat and turned into the main street of the town.

“The bank is at the far end of the street, on the left-hand side,” Jaco said. “What do you say we ride in and help ourselves?”

“Jaco, I know this is me 'n Forney's first time out with you, but do you think it's wise for us to all ride in together like this? I mean, bein' as there is this many of us, we're sure as hell goin' to get ever'body's attention.”

Jaco laughed. “Oh yeah, we're goin' to get their attention all right. That's what we want to do.”

“I don't understand. Why would we want everyone's attention?”

“Just pay attention and do what we do.” Jaco pulled his pistol, and all the other riders followed suit. “Now!” he shouted.

The sound of twenty-three galloping horses caused a thunder that swept over the little town.

The first two citizens of the town to go down under the fusillade emanating from the Kingdom Come Gang were a young mother and her small daughter.

Bullets crashed through windows. Anyone caught out on the street was shot. Those who attempted to escape were chased down by mounted gang members and shot down in cold blood.

One of the gang turned his horse toward the front of a dressmaking shop and horse and rider crashed through the window. Laughing demonically, he shot down the seamstress and her customer, her ability to flee limited by the pinned-up dress she was wearing.

When the outlaws reached the bank, at least six of them rushed in, but found the bank empty, employees and customers having run away at the sound of the guns. The vault door was standing open, whether by invitation or the fact that everyone had run away too quickly to close it.

The outlaws scooped up all the money, then went back outside and to a restaurant. Three dead diners were the only persons still inside the restaurant, having been killed by random gunfire as the gang had ridden into town. The men moved back to the kitchen and began serving themselves.

“When you jump over somethin', what you do is kind of stand in the stirrups, 'n keep your ass off the saddle,” Timmy explained. He chuckled. “Don't tell Ma I said
ass
, else she'll give me a whuppin'.”

“Don't worry,” Ethan said. “I won't say nothin'.”

“Good. Now watch me and I'll show you—” Timmy stopped in mid-sentence as he saw several riders coming toward them. “That's funny.”

“What's funny?”

“Seein' that many riders all bunched up like that. I wonder what they want?”

As the riders rode up to them, Timmy noticed that several had their pistols drawn. “Run, Ethan, run!” he shouted, jerking the head of his horse around and slapping his legs against the side.

Guns were fired, and both horses went down, spilling the boys from their saddles.

The riders came to them just as they were getting up.

“You're goin' to be sorry you kilt that horse!” Ethan said. “ That was Mr. Cal Hanson's horse, 'n he's an important man.”

“And my pa is the sheriff!” Timmy said.

Dingo aimed at the two boys.

“Wait a minute,” Mattoon said. “Don't kill 'em.”

“Why not?”

“They may be worth more to us alive. I've read about this Hanson fella. He's an Englishman that's startin' him a ranch somewhere close. He may be willin' to pay a lot of money to get the boy back.”

“What about the sheriff's brat?” Dingo said. “No need to be keepin' him alive, is there?”

“Don't shoot either one of 'em, yet,” Jaco said. “I've read about the Englishman, too, and Mattoon might be right. The boy could be worth some money to us. And hangin' on to the sheriff's kid might give us an edge.”

“What are we goin' to do with 'em?”

“We'll take 'em back to Shumla with us.”

Sheriff Jason Bowles was pinning WANTED posters to his bulletin board when Larry Yeargan stuck his head in. “Sheriff?”

“Hi, Larry, what can I do for you?”

“There's somethin' a couple miles out of town you ought to see. Two horses that's been shot dead.”

“Two of them, you say? Well, that is a little unusual.”

“Here's what's more unusual. Both of 'em is still saddled.”

“You're right. It probably is something I need to see. Let me get my horse saddled, and you can take me out there.”

“Oh Lord, no,” Jason cried as they approached the two horses. “God in heaven, no!” he shouted, urging his horse into a gallop.

“Sheriff ! What is it?” Yeargan called after him, putting his own horse into a gallop to catch up.

Jason looked around frantically. “Where are the boys? Did you see the boys anywhere?”

“What boys?” Yeargan asked. “Sheriff, I don't have any idea what you are talking about.”

“I'm talking about the two boys who were riding these horses.” Jason took a deep breath. “One of them was my son. The other one is staying out at the Regency Ranch with Cal Hanson.”

“Oh, Lord. I didn't know nothin' about that, I didn't see no boys,” Yeargan said. “I'm sorry, Sheriff. I'm just real sorry.”

 

 

Going back through New Fountain, Jaco saw that all the bodies had been gathered in front of the church—fourteen total—as many women and children as men. Seeing the riders coming through again, the townspeople assembled for an impromptu funeral service started to scatter.

“Hold on there, hold on!” Jaco shouted, stretching his arm out toward them. “We ain't here to do no more shootin'. No need for you to be runnin'.”

“What are you here for?” one brave soul asked.

“We're here to get a couple horses,” Jaco said. “Round up a couple saddled horses, and we'll be gettin' on our way. You won't be seein' no more of us.”

Late that afternoon, Jaco and his gang returned to town with Timmy and Ethan bound and riding on horses that were being led. They stopped in front of the Red Dog, then poured into the saloon, laughing and talking loudly.

“How much do you think we got from the bank?” one of the riders asked.

“What do you care? Your share will come to more 'n you would get from a whole year of punchin' cows.”

“You got that right.”

“What are you bringin' them two kids in here for?” Belle asked, when she saw Timmy and Ethan. “They're too young to be comin' into a place like this.”

“Well now, Belle, me 'n some of the others was thinkin' that maybe you could break these two boys in. You think you could handle that for us?”

“I don't believe in robbing the cradle,” Belle said. “Oh my goodness. You . . . You've got those two boys tied up! Why are they tied up?”

“Well, hell. It's obvious, ain't it? We've got 'em tied up 'cause we don't want 'em runnin' away.”

“Wait a minute. One of those boys is the sheriff's son. I've seen him before.”

Jaco nodded. “That's right.”

Duff was filing the blade of a hay mower when he saw a boy, no older than fifteen, riding toward him. On the boy's head was a Western Union cap.

Dismounting, and clutching a yellow envelope in his hand, the messenger started toward the house.

“Lad, I'm over here,” Duff called, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead.

The boy turned and came toward him. “You've got a telegram, Mr. MacCallister.”

“Aye, I assumed as much.” He reached for the message. “Please wait. I'll likely be wanting to send a return message.”

“Yes, sir,” the boy said.

Duff opened the envelope.

“Wang!” Duff shouted.

The door opened, and Wang stepped out onto the porch.

“Bring a pencil and three dollars!”

Without responding, Wang went back inside.

“Dewey?” Duff called out to the cowboy repairing a broken board in the corral fence.

“Yes, sir, Mr. MacCallister?”

“Would you be for telling Elmer that I should like to see him?”

“Yes, sir.” Dewey hurried away on his errand.

Wang returned with a pencil and three dollars.

“Do you have any spare paper with you?” Duff asked the Western Union messenger.

“Yes sir.” He produced a sheet of paper.

Taking the pencil, Duff wrote on the message sheet.
Will be there soon as possible.

Turning over the telegram he had just received, he wrote on the back.

He gave the messages and the money to the telegram messenger. “See to it that this gets sent by return telegram, and that this message gets to Miss Parker. Do you know her?”

“Yes, sir. She's that pretty lady who runs the dress store.”

“Aye.”

“But Mr. MacCallister, that's too much money.”

“See that the messages are both taken care of and keep the rest.

“Yes, sir!” the boy said with a wide smile.

 

 

To Elmer and Wang, Duff explained what had happened in Texas. “We'll spend tonight in town,” Duff told Elmer. “We'll leave at daybreak tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to go?” Wang asked.

“I appreciate the offer, but it won't be necessary.”

“Duff, I've seen Wang . . . and his kind in action,” Elmer said. “I think havin' him along could come in real handy.”

“I've no doubt but that he would be an asset,” Duff replied. “But, you saw how it was on the train. I think we need to get there right away. We won't—”

“Mr. MacCallister. You have been at sea. Mr. Gleason has been at sea. You have seen how it is for people in steerage. For the Chinese coming to America to work on the railroads, it was even worse. Please, do not be concerned that I will ride in the immigrant car. It will not bother me.”

“I'll ride in the immigrant car with him,” Elmer said.

“In that case, we'll all—”

Elmer held up his hand. “Don't you expect Miss Parker will be going?”

“Aye, 'tis my expectation that she will be.”

“Then you two ride first class, as you should. Me 'n Wang will get along just fine in the immigrant car.”

“All right. If you say so.”

 

 

At six o'clock the next morning, Duff, Megan, Elmer, and Wang rode south out of town, the hollow clopping sound of the hoofbeats echoing back from the buildings fronting First Street. Already, the smell of coffee and frying bacon scented the cool morning air. If Vi Winslow had not provided an early morning breakfast for them, the aromas would have been difficult to take.

They passed by the Matthews Building, where a couple wagons were already taking on freight for the day's run, and the Chinese laundryman was building his fire under a tub of water. As they passed the laundry, Chang Ly and Wang Chow exchanged waves, but did not speak.

As the town fell behind them, they continued south on Chugwater Road.

 

 

They reached Cheyenne in time to make arrangement to secure passage and have their horses shipped on the same train.

“You are a good customer, Mr. MacCallister. I see no reason why your Chinese man can't ride in the first-class car with you.'

“Can you guarantee that when we change trains in Denver?” Duff asked.

“Uh, no sir. Once you leave the Union Pacific, I won't be able to vouch for your accommodations.”

“I think it would be better for Wang if he knows what to expect for the entire journey.”

“Yes, sir, I understand.”