Maude March on the Run! (5 page)

“My sister,” I cried, near wild. “Maude!”

She came out of the door across the street, her arms pulled behind her, a burly man pushing her ahead of him. My head swam at the sight; I might could have fainted. He was the law, I had no doubt.

Maude's face looked burned from the sun, but I knew better. It was hard not to care when people you talked to every day watched you get arrested.

I drew breath to yell again, but Marion put a hand over my mouth and hauled me back into the dim of the livery. From there we watched the surge of the midday dinner crowd as they spilled into the street, making Maude the head of her own parade.

Behind us, the anvil rang like a warning bell come late.

“Marion,” I said behind his hand, and he loosened me somewhat. “What will we do?”

“I'm thinking, Sallie.”

“Well, what are you thinking?”

“Saddle me a horse.” He hurried off after the crowd following Maude.

I was shaking as I brought out Marion's horse and mine, the only horse that belonged to me and Maude free and clear. By the time I had those horses tied to a rail so I could throw a saddle on them, the shaking had left me and I was thinking.

I brought out the horse Uncle Arlen let Maude ride, the big sorrel with a blaze on its face. Most of the lawmen who came to town for Black Hankie's trial were still in town. It didn't take much of a leap for me to figure on those fellows agreeing to hang my sister just as quick. Save themselves another trip.

There was no question of leaving her in there.

Beef came to the front of the barn, wondering what the gunshot meant. “You all going for a ride?” he said, seeing what I was about.

He had to give me a hand with the saddles. The horses weren't bothered by gunshots when we rode out to hunt, but they had been in the stalls all morning and so were in high spirits as well as somewhat startled.

“I couldn't stop in the midst of fixing that plow blade,” Beef said, still talking about the gunshot, “but it sure got my curiosity up.”

“Probably some fellow working off a drink or two,” I said to him. He was a sweet fellow, and I didn't like to lie to him. I
didn't care to tell him Maude had been arrested. He would find out sooner or later, but later was better.

I hoped he wouldn't think too poorly of us for keeping our secrets. He'd liked Maude a great deal.

“Where did Marion go?”

“To get Maude,” I said. “We've been meaning to tell you. We're planning to follow Uncle Arlen.”

“There's a good idea,” Beef said. “I didn't want to say nothing, but I'm afraid Arlen used up a cat's nine lives on his last trip.”

As we saddled the horses, I said, “Should anyone come looking for Marion or me, don't tell them which direction we took. If they ask after Uncle Arlen, say he told you he wanted to see his sister, Ruthie, back east.”

“How long ago did you leave?” Beef said to me. He was a sharper nail than he looked.

I didn't want him to get into trouble unnecessarily. “Today will do well enough,” I said.

As I tied my sack to the saddle horn, I noticed the jar of bean soup, which would soon grow cold. I pointed it out to Beef. “Maude brought you dinner. It smelled good to me.”

“Much obliged.”

I ran to the closet at the back of the livery for my shotgun, then snatched up the sack of Maude's own molasses cookies I'd put there early in the morning to keep them safe from the chipmunk. I didn't know how long Marion planned to sit outside the jail, but I didn't like going without a meal.

Seeing I didn't need any further help, Beef went back to fixing the plow. His fire had died down some, and he had no sooner started to work the bellows than Marion came in.

Beef kept his back turned to us, I noticed. What he didn't know he couldn't tell. My appreciation for him was growing by the moment.

Marion knew immediately why I was holding three horses. “You can't come with me, Sallie.”

“What have they done with Maude?”

“She's in jail,” he said, surprising me not at all.

“But what did you find out?” I said. “You must know something more than that.”

“I could hardly walk in there and say, ‚I'm Joe Harden, the one who robbed that bank in Des Moines, if you want to get your facts straight, and I'd like to know what you plan to do with my friend Mad Maude,' now can I?”

“What are we going to do?” I expected he'd been working on some story to give the sheriff.

In a dimer I read once, Cheating Charlie's brother got him out of jail by passing a red pencil through the barred window. Then going in as if he was a doctor, he pointed to the pencil marks on Charlie's face and said, “That fellow is sickening with something contagious.”

I doubted Marion could pass for a doctor.

He didn't have much of a plan, either. “I'm going to keep an eye on that jail.”

“I'm going with you.”

“There's some things a man has to do alone,” he said, and when I opened my mouth, he added, “There's other people who ought to let him.”

“One by one my family is being carried off by unfortunate circumstances,” I said. “I cannot stand still and watch it happen to Maude.”

Marion got on his horse and rode out, his face set, determined.

I put a foot in the stirrup and slung my other leg over, driving the shotgun into the cloth boot at the saddle horn. I took the reins to lead Maude's horse. Used to the city life, he didn't get tetchy in crowds.

I rode out at a pace and spotted Marion just as he turned a corner. I kicked up my horse, anxious not to let him out of my sight for long.

I
NEEDN'T HAVE WORRIED. MARION WAS WAITING FOR ME
around that corner. He'd brought his horse to a halt right in the middle of the street. Horses had to make their way around him as if he was a boulder, with no complaint from the riders. This was no doubt due to the dark look on Marion's face.

“Don't give me any more of a fight,” he said. “Time's a-wastin'.”

“Then let's ride.” I looked hard back at him.

He motioned for me to come closer, and I did, pulling my horse up alongside his. With a creak of saddle leather, he leaned in near. Although it was unlikely anyone could hear us over the noise of the street, he said into my ear, “I don't want you anywhere nearby if I break that jail.”

“You're going to bust Maude out?”

“Shh!”

This was better than I'd hoped for. I lowered my voice to say, “Are you carrying enough firepower? You might have to kill a few lawmen.”

Marion pushed his hat up off his forehead. “What kind of man do you take me for?”

“One who's thinking of jail-breaking my sister.”

He turned his horse and rode. I followed him through the city, and I didn't fall behind. I knew better than to bother him with my questions. He still wore that dark look.

Left to my own thoughts, I wished that telegram had come the day before. Or that Uncle Arlen had consented to take us along. I started to wonder if it was the letter I wrote to the sheriff that gave Maude away somehow.

Uncle Arlen had said I should give it to someone riding out of town, let them mail it somewhere else along the line. I could not bear the thought of wondering when my letter might get posted, never mind worrying about whether it got lost entire. So I sent it from Independence.

Now I wished I had taken Uncle Arlen's part when he told Maude she ought not keep that job at George Ray's. Marion had taken Uncle Arlen's part.

Marion hadn't yet said one word to me. I'd been doing my best to look as if I wasn't speaking to him, either, but this was an effort wasted. He hardly noticed me.

We took up a position on the street.

The jailhouse was a two-story building with a brick front. It looked a lot like a hotel, except for the bars on the windows. I didn't see how we could take Maude out of there.

Some hours later, when full dark had fallen, we were still sitting on our horses about a block from the jailhouse. There were fewer people on the street than in daylight, but there was no letup in wagon traffic that I could see.

“I want to ride past that building a time or two, see how many lawmen are inside,” Marion said, breaking his silence.

“Don't start up without telling me what you're up to,” I said. “I want to be ready.”

“I plan to study the situation a while longer,” Marion said. “I can't make a mess of it, like that bank robbery I fumbled.”

“You got out with the money,” I said. “Even if Maude did make you send it back. It isn't your fault we walked in on you at a crucial moment.”

“It's the things a man does not take into account that trip him up,” he said.

“We need to think it through,” I said to him. “How many lawmen do you figure we have to overcome?”

“We,”
Marion said firmly, “are not overcoming anybody. Don't mess with me over this, Sallie.”

“Do you want a molasses cookie?” I asked him, and held out the sack.

“Believe I will,” he said.

“A boy can go nearly anywhere and never be noticed,” I said as he took two cookies. “That's more than a man can get away with.”

I took only one cookie, thinking to save the others for Maude.

“What do you have in mind?” Marion said.

“I can stand outside looking in, and nobody would think anything of it.” He chewed thoughtfully through one cookie, and then he told me what I was to look for.

I handed him the reins to Maude's horse.

A few minutes later, I rode past the jailhouse. I took my
time, noticing an alley between the jail and the next building. No gates I could see.

There were brass lamps hanging from the ceiling on the first floor of the jailhouse, but the windows were cloudy. Dirty, most likely. I got off my horse and put my face right against one.

I spotted a back door. More than anything else, I saw this was just any old day to them around the desk. Others of us were having our lives ruined at their hands; they could at least put their games aside.

I rode back to Marion. I said, “There's an alleyway and a back door. I saw four on duty.”

“I can handle four,” he said, “if I can get the drop on them.”

“
I
could get the drop on them,” I said. “They were playing cards.”

Y
“OU WAIT HERE,” HE SAID TO ME, TAKING MY SHOTGUN.

“That doesn't seem like the right kind of weaponry to face down four pistols.”

“It'll pepper them all if I have to let a shot go at close range,” he said. “I'm counting on it none of them will want to catch a pellet.”

“The fellow that had his back to the window faces the door you're going to use,” I said. “He would be the one to watch out for.” Behind these words, I was making up my mind to a thing or two.

It was what Uncle Arlen had said exactly: Once a man has saved your life, he's family. “Tell me the truth,” I said to Marion. “Are me and Maude going to be orphans again?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” he told me.

He rode away looking to me like a man who intended to live through something, which was as much as I could ask of him. Like I was feeling for a good-luck piece, I checked that Uncle Arlen's map was deep in my pocket.

When I was fair to certain I wouldn't run right into the back of Marion, I squared my shoulders and headed for the
jailhouse. As luck would have it, I rode up just as Maude came to the window.

In the dark, I saw her shape only, with a pale light behind her. But it looked to me like she set her hands against the window sudden like.

I tied our horses to a rail and tightened the cinches on both saddles. Doing this, I realized how hard I was shaking. Even my horse had the jitters.

Not Maude's. That animal looked relaxed enough to fall asleep right there in the middle of the street. I wished some of that calm would rub off on me and my horse.

I looked back up at the window for a long minute and then made a motion with my arm like I was swiping at bugs in the air. But I pointed my finger, trying to make Maude know she would have to take her own horse and ride off that way.

I startled at what I guessed to be Marion's shadow slipping into that alleyway—I thought he would've been back of the jailhouse already. It wouldn't do for him to bust in without I had at least tried to provide some distraction.