Reuben's Revenge Page 9

  ‘Food,’ Anderson said.

  Reuben shoved a strip of jerky in his mouth and watched as the man chewed hungrily.

  The rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

  ‘Well, at least we can dry out some,’ Reuben said.

  At that point the moon made a rare appearance and in the eerie blue light, Reuben looked around the landscape. He saw no movement. And the light didn’t last long. But he did see the muzzle flash!

  ‘Down, now!’ he shouted at the doc.

  The doctor was no fool and asked no questions as he flung himself onto the wet grass.

  ‘Hold your fire, mister,’ Reuben shouted. ‘We got a prisoner here from the Northfield Bank robbery.’

  ‘I’m a Pinkerton Agent searching for a man called Anderson,’ the man replied.

  ‘So you shoot first and talk after,’ Reuben said laconically.

  ‘Can’t be too careful out here,’ the man replied.

  ‘Well, we got Anderson and I’m taking him in to Cannon Falls to stand trial as soon as the circuit judge arrives,’ stated Reuben.

  Turning around Reuben whispered, ‘Sorry, Doc, I don’t even know your name.’

  ‘It’s Mackay, Duncan Mackay.’

  ‘I’m Reuben Chisholm.’

  ‘Good to meet you, Mr Chisholm,’ the doc grinned.

  ‘You, too, Doc Mackay.’

  ‘Duncan.’

  ‘Reuben.’

  It seemed ridiculous, but they shook hands.

  As Reuben turned around, he saw the lone horseman, Winchester across his lap, walking his horse towards them.

  ‘Mind if I join you folks?’ he asked.

  ‘Not with that rifle out of its scabbard,’ Reuben replied.

  Slowly, the man raised the Winchester and slid it into its sheath.

  ‘No problem,’ the man said, halting his horse.

  ‘You got any papers on you?’ Reuben asked.

  ‘In my saddlebags. OK if I dismount?’ the man said.

  Reuben already had his Colt in his right hand, hidden from the man’s view.

  Slowly, the man dismounted and carefully pulled up the flap of one of his saddlebags, bringing out a sheaf of papers. He let the flap drop down and approached Reuben.

  ‘That’s close enough, mister,’ Reuben said. ‘Just put them papers on the ground and step back aways.’

  The man did as he was told and reversed several paces.

  Keeping his gun levelled at the man, Reuben stepped forward and picked up the papers.

  ‘What’s your name, mister?’ Reuben asked.

  ‘Ely Watson,’ came the reply.

  Reuben showed the letter of confirmation to Doc Mackay.

  ‘Seems real enough to me,’ the doctor said.

  Reuben took the papers back and holstered his Colt.

  ‘OK, Mr Watson—’

  ‘Call me Ely.’

  ‘OK, Ely. Why are you trailing us?’ Reuben asked.

  ‘I wasn’t,’ Ely replied. ‘I was tracking Anderson after he was broken out of jail.’

  ‘But you followed us,’ Reuben said.

  ‘I had a buggy careen past me on the trail and followed the tracks. I came upon the body of Henry Moon, figured some of the James-Younger gang had had an argument and Moon lost out. I searched the area, found hoof prints. Then I saw the blood at the base of an old oak tree and the buggy trail led on to Cannon Falls. So I followed them. Then the storm came, and every sign was washed away, but I figured that’s where what was left of the James-Younger gang were headed.’

  ‘What was left?’ Reuben queried.

  ‘Most of the gang were either killed or wounded, including the Youngers,’ Ely replied. ‘Frank was wounded but he and his brother, Jesse, managed to escape Northfield.’

  ‘You reckon Frank and Jesse are in Cannon Falls?’ Reuben asked.

  ‘Nope. Last I heard they’d headed for the Dakotas.’

  ‘So how come you trailed us?’ Reuben asked.

  ‘Pure luck. I saw three horses and figured it was part of the gang,’ Watson said. ‘That’s how come I fired first, trying to cut the odds down some.’

  ‘Sounds reasonable to me,’ the doc said.

  ‘OK. We leave at first light. No point risking the horses in the darkness,’ Reuben said.

  ‘I’d better take a look at Anderson’s leg. We can’t keep him trussed up like that all night, he’ll die,’ the doc said and spread his tarp on the grass. Reuben and Ely followed shortly and, pretty soon, all slept.

  Clarke and Adams had a much better night than Reuben, Duncan, Anderson and Ely. They’d found some relatively dry kindling in the lee of the oak tree and managed to light a fire.

  Coffee was soon boiling, and Adams added some fat-back bacon and beans to a skillet. Steam was rising from Adam’s clothes as the fire slowly dried him out.

  Out of the blue, the crack of a rifle shot rang out. The shooter missed both men but hit their fire. Instinctively, Adams and Clarke rolled left and right, bringing their side-irons into play.

  The stranger’s horse rose on its rear legs as shots were exchanged, but Adams and Clarke could not see their attacker. All they could make out was the muzzle flash of the stranger’s weapon, but that kept moving around, never staying in the same place for more than a second or two.

  The storm had long passed, and the clouds began to get lighter and eventually, the moon cast its eerie light across the landscape.

  It was just what William Clarke had prayed for. The stranger, firing from a nervous mount, had little chance of hitting them, but Clarke took careful aim with his Winchester and loosed a single shot.

  His slug creased the horse’s head and hit the rider in the chest, knocking him backwards, landing hard on the ground some six feet behind his now madly galloping mount.

  The man didn’t move.

  ‘Wonder who the hell he is – was?’ Adams said.

  ‘Only one way to find out,’ Clarke replied.

  Slowly and carefully, both men crawled forwards, in case the man was playing possum.

  ‘Jeez!’ Clarke gasped.

  ‘What? You never seen a stiff afore,’ Adams laughed.

  ‘He’s wearin’ a tin star,’ Clarke replied.

  ‘Damnation!’ Adams had stopped laughing.

  Clarke was silent for a moment, trying to work out a plan, then: ‘You drag the body into the bush, and make sure it can’t be seen from the trail. I’ll unsaddle the horse and set it off away from town. OK?’ He pulled off the sheriff’s tin star and put it in his vest pocket. ‘Souvenir,’ he said. ‘Might come in handy one day.’ He grinned.

  Reuben sat bolt upright, his Colt already in his hand.

  Although the shots he’d heard were fairly distant, they were still too close for comfort.

  But his attention was drawn to something else.

  Ten feet from the dying fire he saw a pair of bright eyes. Too small for a grizzly, but any wild animal could be dangerous.

  He quickly grabbed some more kindling and built the fire up, the light spreading, and he was able to see what the unblinking, bright eyes belonged to.

  It was a cougar, and looked ready to make an attack.

  The animal took two steps forward, its eyes remaining level.

  It was now within leaping range and Reuben knew he had seconds to get off a killing shot.

  Like a bullet, the animal leapt through the air, its claws extended, ready to maul.

  Holding the Colt in both hands, he loosed off a shot.

  His aim was true. The slug took the animal between the eyes, but its momentum carried the now-dead body forwards and the cougar landed on Reuben, its claws gashing both his arms as he tried to protect his head.

  The weight of the animal was making it difficult to breathe, and he had to heave his chest to breathe in and out.

  Then he felt the pain in both arms.

  Doc Mackay raised himself on one elbow and didn’t believe what his eyes were telling him.

  As quickly as his
old body would allow, he got his bag and went across to Reuben. He exhaled a breath of relief as he saw Reuben’s eyes move and look at him.

  ‘Help shift this lump off me, Doc. I can hardly breathe.’

  With Ely’s help, they managed to shift the heavy, limp body of the cougar from Reuben’s chest, and immediately, Reuben rolled out, taking deep breaths.

  ‘Let me take a look at your arms, blood is soakin’ through your shirt.’

  Taking some scissors from his bag, Doc Mackay cut both sleeves off and took a long, hard look at the lacerations.

  ‘Some o’ these will need stitchin’,’ the doc said. ‘You got any whiskey?’

  ‘ ’Fraid not, Doc.’

  ‘Good job I always carry some,’ a grin spread across his face as he reached into his bag again.

  Pulling out the cork with his teeth, the doc took a mighty swig, smacked his lips together and said: ‘That’s better.’

  ‘Might be better for you,’ Reuben said through gritted teeth.

  ‘Take a couple o’ slugs, Reuben. This is gonna hurt a tad. I’ll bandage up the smaller lacerations, but there’s two or three that’ll need some stitchin’. OK?’

  ‘You’re the doc,’ Reuben replied, raising the bottle to his lips and taking in two large gulps.

  ‘Ready?’ the doc asked.

  ‘Ready as I’ll ever be,’ Reuben said, and clamped his teeth together as the doctor dabbed whiskey on the small cuts.

  It took a further half hour to apply the bandages, and the pain began to ease up some.

  ‘Now for the tricky part,’ the doc said. ‘Take some more whiskey.’

  Reuben didn’t need to be asked twice.

  ‘Now swallow some of this,’ Mackay said.

  ‘What is it?’ Reuben asked.

  ‘It’s laudanum, it’ll help with the pain.’

  The doc carefully threaded a needle and began sewing.

  To take his mind off the pain, Reuben asked: ‘So you didn’t hear two gunshots?’

  ‘Nope. First thing I heard was your pistol,’ the doc replied.

  ‘They were a way off, back down the trail, but I figure someone’s following us,’ Reuben said.

  ‘Well, there’s not much we can do about that ’til daylight. You rest up and I’ll keep a lookout,’ the doc said and Reuben closed his eyes, both arms throbbing. Luckily, it was his left arm that was worst, and he felt he could still use his right hand to shoot his pistol.

  With that thought in mind, he slept.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Adams was nearly at the edge of the brush and tangle-weed when he heard a shot.

  Both men froze. They knew it was a long way off, but had no idea whether it was behind them or in front of them.

  ‘You get a fix on that shot?’ Adams asked.

  ‘Nope. You?’

  ‘Too much echo. Let’s get this done.’

  The two men managed to dump the body of the sheriff, then remove the saddle – and weapons – from the sheriff’s horse and, slapping its rump hard, sent it running away from town.

  ‘We’ll have to wait for daybreak before we move on, it’s too dark to risk losin’ a mount,’ Clarke said.

  The rest of the night passed peacefully enough.

  It was quiet and, for Doc Mackay, too quiet.

  Then, as he cast his eyes to the east, he saw the satisfying glow of deep red as the sun slowly rose, sending shafts of bright light across the land. In a matter of moments, the darkness was eaten up as the sun rose higher and higher, casting deep shadows from rocky outcrops.

  He added some more kindling to the dying embers of the fire, filled the coffee pot with some Arbuckle’s, and shook Reuben’s boot to wake him up.

  In an instant, Reuben sat bolt upright, his Colt already drawn.

  ‘Well, you sure don’t change much,’ the doc commented. ‘Even with a damaged arm.’

  ‘The right arm feels fine, Doc. The left one’s a bit sore and stiff, but that’ll pass soon enough.’

  ‘Good. Coffee’s on, then we better break camp and head for town.’

  ‘Sooner I hand Anderson over to the sheriff, the better,’ Reuben said.

  ‘I better wake Anderson and give him a coffee before we set off,’ Doc Mackay said.

  Reuben looked around and saw the cougar for the first time.

  ‘Man, that’s a big critter.’ Reuben stood looking down at the dead animal, every part of its body bulging with muscle. ‘I sure was lucky I got a shot off,’ he added.

  ‘Closest I’ve ever been to a cougar,’ Ely said.

  The doc grunted as he kicked one of Anderson’s boots to wake him up, then handed him a tin mug of coffee.

  ‘Leg’s killing me, Doc,’ Anderson said.

  ‘We’ll be in Cannon Falls in one to two hours at this rate. I’ll fix it up then – when you’re in jail!’

  Anderson took a sip of the coffee and then looked the doc in the eye. ‘I won’t be in jail fer long,’ and smirked.

  ‘Long enough for the scaffold to be built,’ the medico replied and walked back to Reuben by the fire.

  ‘We better drink up and get going,’ Reuben said. ‘How long till we hit town?’

  ‘No more’n one or two hours, if we keep this slow pace up,’ the doc replied. ‘Funny, Anderson asked the same question.’

  ‘I gotta feeling Anderson’s hoping to catch up with the gang who tried to raid the Northfield bank,’ Reuben said.

  ‘Well, if’n he is, he’s in for a huge disappointment,’ the doc laughed.

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Word has it that Frank and Jesse headed for the Dakotas and what was left o’ the gang split up and headed towards Madelia. The Pinkerton Agents are already there. What the gang don’t know is that there ain’t a town within a hundred mile radius o’ Northfield that ain’t on the lookout for them.’

  ‘We better break camp and head for Cannon Falls. You help Ely pack up here and I’ll sort Anderson out. Then we ride.’

  At almost exactly the same time, Clarke and Adams broke camp. Pouring the dregs of the coffee pot over the fire and kicking sand over it, they made sure the fire was out before saddling up and riding on towards Cannon Falls.

  They’d ridden around two miles when Clarke suddenly called a halt.

  ‘What’s up, pard?’ Adams asked.

  ‘Look at the trail. You can just about make out the wheel ruts of the buggy, but look. There are four sets of hoof prints there. Four!’

  ‘Maybe the sheriff’s horse was returning to Cannon Falls,’ Adams said.

  ‘Unlikely. The ground is soft after the rain. Them hoof prints are deep – meanin’ there was a rider on all four horses.

  ‘Well, it sure as hell wasn’t Henry Moon, that’s fer sure.’ Adams grinned.

  ‘Or the sheriff,’ Clarke added.

  ‘So who the hell was it? A member of the gang? He didn’t come along the trail, he joined it here,’ Adams observed.

  ‘They’re still headin’ for Cannon Falls, so I guess we’ll find out there,’ Clarke said. ‘I just hope it’s the guys we’re lookin’ for.’

  Doc Mackay was riding beside Reuben, while Ely had the reins of Anderson’s horse secured round his pommel.

  ‘You’re quiet, Doc. Anything on your mind?’ Reuben asked.

  ‘Well, since you asked, I been wonderin’ why you were so keen on bringin’ Anderson in.’

  ‘You mean apart from his being a murdering, raping, scumbag?’ Reuben answered.

  ‘Good enough reason,’ the doc agreed.

  ‘He rode with Quantrill, and the two fellas who killed my wife were also ex-Quantrill. It’s them I’m after. Anderson is just the bait.’

  Reuben reached inside his vest pocket and pulled out two Wanted posters.

  ‘William Clarke and Alexander Adams.’ Reuben handed the posters to the doc.

  ‘Well, can’t say I recognize them. Mind you, I’ve never been more than ten miles out o’ Cannon Falls.’ He handed back the posters.

 
; ‘I’m hoping that using Anderson, instead of me trying to find Clarke and Adams, they’ll find me.’

  ‘And then what?’ the doc asked.

  ‘I’m gonna kill them,’ Reuben stated flatly.

  Chapter Twenty

  After a thirty-minute ride in silence, Doc Mackay suddenly pointed ahead and said, ‘There she is. Cannon Falls.’

  Reuben could vaguely make out some buildings and breathed a sigh of relief.

  ‘Should be there in less than thirty minutes,’ the doc added gleefully.

  ‘Can’t be soon enough for me,’ Reuben said.

  ‘You ain’t keeping me in jail for long,’ Anderson croaked.

  ‘You ain’t wrong there,’ Ely said. ‘The Circuit Judge and jury will see to that.’

  Anderson laughed. ‘You think that’s gonna happen? I’ll be free within two days.’

  ‘Dream on, Anderson,’ Ely said. ‘You ain’t got no Henry Moon to help you this time.’

  ‘I got others,’ Anderson said.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ Reuben replied.

  The doc and Reuben looked at each other and grinned. From what Ely had told them, there was no gang left and they were sure that both Frank and Jesse James wouldn’t risk returning to rescue a scumbag like Anderson.

  ‘You’re gonna hang, Anderson. There’s no two ways about that.’ Reuben didn’t even look back at him, a man he detested.

  They arrived on the outskirts of Cannon Falls, and like most small towns, there were little shacks, most of which were run down. Reuben wondered how they still stood.

  There were one or two people about, shabby, hungover probably.

  As they progressed, so the shacks became small houses, some with picket fences and a small plot of land mostly growing vegetables, but there were a few flower plots, too, adding some colour to the sun-bleached clapboards of the buildings.

  Stores began to appear: a milliner’s, gun shop, general store and a barber’s. The sheriff’s office was at the end of the shops, set back slightly, on the corner of what passed for Main Street and a broad alley lined with small houses, all neatly painted.

  Opposite the sheriff’s office was the doctor’s surgery, a saloon and next to that a casino, both of which were open, but scarcely populated. Reuben checked his Hunter; it was 9.30a.m., maybe too early for most folk.