Finish the Western III: A Murder in the Gulch

Cafe Society
21

Jesse abruptly slid off the horse. He had been riding behind the Sheriff, and he had had enough.

MacTavish danced his horse around to stare at Jesse. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m not moving one more step until you tell me why I’ve been arrested. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You call sabotage nothing wrong?” one of the deputies cried out. He was a sickly-looking man, pale, with a constant cough and watery eyes. “Destruction of government property?”

Jesse coolly stared at him. “Of course that’s wrong. But I didn’t destroy or sabotage anything.”

“We’ll discuss that once we get to Solace,” MacTavish said.

“No, we’ll discuss it now. I left a ranch, a wife, and two young children back home. I’m not going anywhere with you on your say-so, even if you are wearing a star.”

The sickly deputy coughed. “I don’t think you understand the situation, Parker. There are three of us and one of you. You will be coming with us whether you like it or not, even if I have to hogtie you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Jesse laughed.

“That’s enough, Garrett,” MacTavish said. “We’ll hogtie no one. Parker, what if I told you that a bridge has been destroyed, and that’s there’s signs it was intentional, and our new schoolmarm was killed trying to cross it?”

“I’d say that’s a crime, and I would help you find who did it. But what makes you think it was me?”

The other deputy, red-faced and fat, with an unfortunate strong sweaty smell, lifted from the saddle and farted noisily. “We have your saw,” he said, spitting a stream of tobacco juice neatly between the horse’s ears.

Jesse frowned. His good saw had been missing for about six weeks now. It had his name and the name of his ranch burned into the handgrip. “Do you honestly think one man could cut down a bridge by himself?”

“Of course not, Parker. That’s why you’re coming to Solace. We have your accomplice already in custody, and he named you as the mastermind.”

Jesse’s jaw dropped. He had no idea what was going on, but he knew a quick dash for home would not solve things. Without another word he hoisted himself back into the saddle behind the Sheriff.

22

Dave returned to the sheriff’s office. He’d won the coin toss to go looking for Sam Goldstone.

“I went by his store. It wasn’t open, but the clerks were stocking a big freight wagon order that had come in on the Solace road. said they hadn’t seen him since early morning. He’d come riding in from the south somewhere, and they were surprised as they didn’t know he’d left at all. Seemed glad to dish on Sam, they were plenty sore to be working today and missin’ most of the fun. I checked that little house he rents, but nobody answered. I looked in the windows, it seemed deserted. Checked a couple more saloons on the way back, didn’t find anything.”

“Well” mused Zeke, “it’s not like we have any proof he’s involved, ‘cept that he keeps trying to undercut Hastings. But bein’ missing like this since right after the show makes a man like me suspicious. We’ll keep him in mind. Miss Fenno, we’re going to have to keep this bow for now, sorry.”

“That’s alright by me” she smiled wanly. “Am I under suspicion too?”

Zeke gave her a level gaze. “Not for now, but I’d be happy if you stuck around here in the Gulch for now.”

Her eyes narrowed as she replied “Don’t worry about that, this girl is no fool. Nobody is going to mess with me and get away with it!”

Mose spoke up again. “I’m thinkin’ whenever the bow was tampered with, it had to be after the whole show started, wouldn’t it? If someone was after Hastings they had to know where he was sitting, and that the card would line up with him.”

“That’s a mighty short time to slip in and mess with the gear for the show” said Al McReynolds."

“And besides” chimed in Dave “how do we know it was Hastings they were after?”

Everyone in the office looked at each other and groaned. This sure wasn’t going to be easy.

23

Dave thought for a moment then said, “Don’t need to have been someone slipping in. Could have been an inside job.”

“Good point,” said Zeke. “Anyone recently join up?”

“Just that knife thrower with the funny name.”

24

Before May could say anything about the knife thrower the door to the sheriff’s office banged open and Hawkins, the newspaper reporter, entered. He didn’t look his usual annoying self, being pale, with a somewhat shocked expression on his face.

“Sheriff Clayton” he began, “sorry to interrupt, but I figure you need to know. I’ve been down to the telegraph office, getting my news for the Democrat. What with all going on today, took a while to notice the south stage and freight wagons haven’t come through…”

Zeke turned to Dave “Didn’t you say that Goldstone’s had a delivery?”

“That was from the north line, up Solace way.”

Zeke turned back to Hawkins. “So what’s up?”

“The bridge over Westwood Ravine is gone, and it looks like it wasn’t an accident. Someone finally got around, up to Solace. Seems the stage was passing over and it fell in. Killed the driver and only passenger, a teacher going to Solace.”

Those in the office were aghast. “That’s an ugly thing to think about” said Mose. He turned to Zeke “It’s getting late now, I’m going to get out to Charley’s place while I still have some light. When you need me, you know where to find me” and he turned to go.

Hawkins was standing nervously. “Umm, Sheriff, can I come back tomorrow and interview you for the Democrat?” As Zeke tiredly waved his hand in assent the reporter scuttled out as well.

“Dave, Al, I want you both to escort Miss Fenno out to the show wagons. I don’t think it sounds safe for her to travel alone. Be back early though, there’s going to be a lot to do. I’ll close up here, since we don’t have any drunks even in the cells. Seems like we all are in for a rough time. Damn, I thought being a *blacksmith * was hard work.”

25

Mose went past the Charging Bear ranch. With Jesse gone and Belle at their house, Charley had gone to tend their stock. He hoped to run into Charley on his way back, or help him finish up the Parker’s chores.

The sun was starting to set when Mose ran into his old friend. They chatted briefly about the condition of the Parker’s animals, and headed toward home. Charley carried Belle’s half-cooked stew that she had left on the stove, figuring she wouldn’t want it to go to waste.

The luscious smell of fresh-baked biscuits wafted out of the house. Tessie and Little Mose were playing on the porch, poking what looked suspiciously like a half-dead earthworm back and forth.

The men smiled, scooped up the toddlers, and washed them with the water from the pump in the yard. Then they went inside for dinner.

26

Sam Nichols was in a foul mood. He seemd to feel dirt and sweat in every pore. the trip from San Francisco had been extremely uncomfortable, especially after he’d switched to the stage from the train. The first day of the stage had been hot and dusty, and at the first night’s stop he suspected there were bedbugs in his mattress. By contrast, the next morning had been cool and clammy, with a fog that had nearly got him killed at the damaged bridge. The “couple of hours detour” through Indian land had seen not trouble. Too bad, thought Sam, he wouldn’t have minded taking a few potshots at any savages who thought this was still their land. Then, first on, then another horse had cast shoes, slowing the progress of the stage even further. By the time it reached Solace, to turn south to Anderson’s Gulch, it was far too late to travel on.

Sam was a man who like his comforts, but in the godforsaken little hellhole he thought he’d be lucky to find a room at all, much less a decent one. Solace was smaller than the Gulch, but after making inquiries at the only business he found open, a seedy looking saloon, he trudged up the street to find the Flint House, which had rooms for rent. Sam enjoyed waking up the slack jawed yokel who seemed in charge, then reluctantly gave him a tip to heat up enough water so he could wash up. When he finally got to bed, he was just starting to fall asleep when he jerked fully awake again. Angry shouts and gunshots were sounding outside, and he slipped to the window, to see several figures running in all direction. Nichols had noticed the small jail was two doors down from the Flint, and he could see light coming from the open front door. Angry that his rest had been interrupted, he went back to bed.

27

The moon was up when Sally slipped out the window of her room and headed for the fence. She whispered to the horses to quiet them as she entered the old barn and quickly climbed the ladder to the loft. She breathed deep as she walked between the stacks of newly baled hay, savoring the sweet aroma of the fresh grass.
“Hey girl, what are you doin’ in here?” a voice behind her said.
She turned and saw a figure silhouetted against the narrow vertical strips of moonlight coming thru the spaces between the barn boards.
“Oh Danny, I’ve missed you,” she said and went to him and put her arms around the boy’s waist. He put his arms around her shoulders.
“It’s only been four days. Come on, let’s go over here,” he said and took her hand and led her to an opening between bales. After they passed thru he restacked some hay to close the opening so they were completely concealed inside the stack. They settled down next to each other on a soft cushion of hay and talked softly in the dark.
In the house, the others slept quietly.

28

May tossed fitfully in her bed at the Silverado. The rest of Prairie Dexter’s Wild West troop were camped out at the site, but as the star, Dexter allowed her a bit of money to stay in hotels when they went traveling.

Dexter, as far as she knew, was still drinking at the Phoenix. She had peered through the batwing doors of the saloon as she made her way to the hotel, and through the smoky gloom she had seen him, alone in a corner, drinking morosely. Whisky, most likely.

May rose and went to her window, peering out at the starry night. There was a taste of rain on the air. They were due to perform in Solace in two days, but until this horrible situation was straightened out they were stuck here.

She sighed and dressed. She might as well go drag Dex from the saloon and put him to bed. It wouldn’t be the first time.

29

As the party of four rode up to the small sheriff’s office and jail, McTavish spoke up. “We’ve only got the two cells Parker. You’ll go in one, your partner is in the other.”

Jesse looked at the sheriff, "I don’t suppose it would be possible to send a message to my family, letting them know how long I’ll be here? " Deputy Garrett gave a nasty little laugh, and Jesse stepped in the door. He looked into the occupied cell, at the man sitting on it’s bunk, grinning at him.

“Hey, Jess, they got you too, did they? Thought you were going to make it.” Jesse frowned, looking at the man. He looked familiar, and the voice…oh my God he thought. “Starling”, he said out loud “John Starling. I thought you were still in prison.”

“Jess, I can see why you talk like that, but it’s me, JB, you knew the risks”

Jesse couldn’t help himself, and charged the bars, but couldn’t reach the man inside. “You were going to kill my Belle!” he grated, as he was dragged away and thrust into the other cell. John B. Starling, called JB or Johnny Boy, had been convicted to five years in prison for his involvement in the murder of Bart Conroy, who been defending Belle. Starling had been in the pay of “Boss” Sutton Connell, who’d been after Belle for her theft of evidence from his house, and who had held Jesse himself captive.

“Now Jess, I done my time, even got out early. ‘Good behavior’ they called it. When I came to see you after, to explain things, well, you said a former con would have a hard time getting by, and you had a little proposition for me. Remember?”

“I haven’t seen you since they hauled your sorry self away after the trial! Sheriff McTavish, this man is lying!”

“Son, they all say that” drawled the sheriff. “Now, you’ll have to wait for the circuit judge to get here, so I’ll send word back to your missus. When I have time. Garrett here will bring you a tray tonight. Garrett?” the fat man shifted in a chair to look up at McTavish. “Don’t let anything happen, you listening to me?”

“Old fart” muttered Garrett, after the sheriff left, Jesse noted. Ignoring the jibes from JB, Jesse sat back to consider his plight. Why the hell would Starling implicate himself in murder like this? Was it just revenge?

Time passed slowly. Garrett spent his time scratching himself and playing solitaire with a deck of ratty cards. He left for a short period to fetch dinner for the prisoners, and made a point of letting them see that he ate the pie that was supposed to be their dessert. A little later he tipped back in his chair and started to snore.

“Hey there Parker, we’re getting out of here you know” said Starling

“Sure we are” said Jesse, rolling his eyes. “I suppose the file to get out was in the pie that pig ate.”

“Think I didn’t make any pals in state prison? I’m not here by accident. All part of a plan” JB bragged “What time do you think it is?”

“I don’t have my pocket watch. Why don’t you just shut up? Breaking out couldn’t be more incriminating!”

“You and your fancy words. Besides, it shouldn’t be long now”

A short time later the door opened and two masked men entered. Deputy Garrett awoke with a start, and his piggy eyes went wide at the side of the guns in their hands. They went even wider when he was shot three times, sliding out of his chair to lie dying on the floor. One of the shooters rifled his pockets but went to the desk when Starling hissed “It’s in the drawer.” He got out the keyring and released Starling, the turned to work the mechanism at Jesse’s door.

“If you think I’m going with you then you’re as stupid as you are crazy” rapped out Jesse.

“You don’t have much choice” grated the second shooter. The others moved quickly to grab Jesse, rapping him over the head to knock him out. Shooting wildly in several directions as they charged out and around the side of the building, dragging Jesse with him to where horses had been tethered, the group rode off swiftly, into the night. As others townspeople cautiously approached the open door of the jail, the sound of horses hooves had already faded.

30

Sally and Danny sat up in alarm as the barn door creaked open. She gasped as the figure came closer, carrying a lantern.

“Uncle Mose!” she cried out in alarm.

Mose set down the lantern. “Well, at least you still have your clothes on.” He turned a gimlet eye to Danny. “Go home,” he said quietly.

Danny quickly obeyed, casting a quick look back at Sally as he ran out of the barn.

Sally hugged her knees, straw tangled in her hair. “Are you going to tell Pa?”

Mose squatted down in front of her. “How long you been seeing him?”

“About three months.”

“Do you love him?”

“Yes!” Sally cried.

“And does he love you?”

“Of course he does!”

“Then why doesn’t he court you proper?”

“Because–” Sally stopped short, a look of dismay on her face.

Mose smiled. “Sally, there’s a reason fathers are so protective of their daughters. It’s because they remember what it was like to be a young man with the lusts overwhelming them. I know what it’s like to be with a pretty girl. But there’s two kinds of pretty girls. There’s the girl you sneak out with in the middle of the night, and there’s the girl you don’t.”

“But–”

“If he loves you, why is he asking you to meet him in the barn after dark? Why isn’t he meeting your folks, sitting down to dinner with them, helping your Pa with the chores?”

“He’s afraid of what people will say!”

Mose snorted. “If he’s too afraid to meet you in the open, to take you for walks down to the town, will he be strong enough to be a proper husband to you? To be a brave father to your children?”

Sally chewed her lip, her eyes welling up with tears.

“You’re a pretty girl, Sally. It’s easy to confuse lust with love at your age. If this boy truly cares for you, he will honor you and your family. He isn’t showing that right now.”

Sally nodded miserably.

“Get to bed, girl. You and your Ma and Belle have to call on Missus Martha tomorrow, to help with her husband’s funeral.”

Sally stood up. “Thank you, Uncle Mose,” she said in a small voice. “I will speak to Danny about his intentions.”

“Better you than your Pa, girl.”

Sally dropped a quick kiss on Mose’s head and hurried off to bed, a little sadder but also a little wiser.

31

Belle reluctantly opened one eye as the rooster crowed. She had gone to bed early, but had not slept well. She glanced at George, snoring lightly in the cradle next to her bed. She wondered where Jesse was. Surely the misunderstanding had been cleared up by now.

Swinging her legs out of the bed, she jostled Sally, sleeping next to her. Sally mumbled something and burrowed under the covers.

Belle could hear the clanks and thumps in the kitchen as Caroline began breakfast. She knew she should go help her, but the strange malaise that had dogged her since George and David’s birth began to seep over her again. She was so tired, and afraid, and tired of being afraid, and afraid of feeling tired.

Feeling very detached, Belle slowly pulled the pillow from her bed and crept toward her sleeping son.

32

George had been so little when he was born, thought Belle. Not like David, who had been so big and strong looking. She and Jesse had carried George around on a pillow just like this one, to keep him cushioned from hard hands and rough edges.

She didn’t want to think about that just now. Thinking about her lost child hurt, and she just wanted the pain to go away. If she just couldn’t see George, would that mean that all the hurt had been in her imagination, a dream? Maybe if she just put the pillow down, to cover George up to keep him warm. It had been so hard to keep the tiny, wrinkled, George warm, she and Jesse had rigged up a basket by the stove…

George opened his dark,eyes and saw his mother hovering over him, the presence that fed him and took care of him. He smiled his toothless baby grin at Belle, and it was like a knife thrust into her soul. Those eyes, it looked like Jesse gazing up at her! Blinking rapidly to clear her vision, she again saw her son, reaching one stubby fingered hand up to brush her face as she leaned in close to stare back at him. Something inside her gave a little snap, and she reared up and away from the baby. Looking at what she held Belle became suddenly aware of herself again, what she had been doing. It was as if a curtain had been withdrawn from the cover of her mind.

With a deep groan Belle threw the pillow away like it was a filthy thing. What had she been thinking, in God’s name what had she almost done? Staggering back to the bed she sat down heavily, and began to cry again, deep gut-wrenching sobs. So many tears lately!

Sally finally roused at the noise, and seeing Belle, hollered “Ma! Get in here quick!” There was a clanging sound from the kitchen and Caroline appeared almost instantly. Putting her arms around the weeping woman’s shoulders she gave a shake and asked.“Girl, what happened? Do you hurt, are you feeling sick?” Belle raised her face and looked at Caroline. Her face and eyes were almost as red as her hair, but she managed to say, with a weak smile “As strange as it sounds, Caroline, I think I feel better than I have for a long time.”

33

Elsewhere, the party from Solace was also greeting the dawn. They had camped on a ridge somewhere between Solace and the Gulch. One of the gunmen was up higher than everyone else, keeping watch between bites of breakfast. “Rider comin’ in!” he called down, his mouth half-full.

J.B. yelled back “Is it him?”

“Dude’s small enough! No, wait, he’s…argh! Damn sun!”

“The sun’s over your shoulder, you idiot!” That got a laugh out of everyone; even Jesse found it amusing.

“Yeah, it’s him! He blinded me with one of his knives!”

Yuri had borrowed one of his show’s steeds and snuck out before dawn, intending to return it before anyone knew it was missing. He wasn’t looking forward to telling the boys about the misfire.

34

Caroline sent Sally out of the room to finish breakfast, then turned and gave Belle a little shake. “Girl, you may be over your dumps, but you’re in not fit state to come with us today. Land sakes, you still look like you’d been rode hard and put up wet. I’m going to leave Sally with you and the children, but she’s going to do all the work, you hear me? I want you in bed, and I’m going to talk to Dr. McCaulley when I see him.”

Belle tried to protest, but was interrupted by a soft tap at the door. “Caroline, it’s Mose. Charlie’s outside, can I come in?” Caroline looked at Belle with a question in her eyes. “Sure he can, he’s done for me before, you know.”

Mose stood there with a steaming mug in his hand. “Caroline, Sally wants to see you 'bout something.” The older woman left, and Belle pulled a blanket around here shoulders. “Belle, I want you to try this, if you will” handing the mug over. It’s got some good things in it, things my grandmother taught me. I’ve used them before." Belle sipped gingerly at the “tea” and murmered in surprise. “It’s good, she said, “sweet.” “That’s Caroline’s honey, actually” said Mose, " with some herbs and things of my own. Should help build you up.”

Tired as she was, Belle was curious again. “You said you’ve used it before, what for?” Mose turned back from where he’d been dandling his fingers above George’s cradle. “Girl, you think you’re the only woman who ever had hard times?” His eyes were bleak for a second, and Belle turned her face away.

Sally wasn’t all that happy to learn she wasn’t going into town, even if it was for helping with a funeral. She’d wanted to see Jenny Hastings, her friend, and the dead man’s daughter. And more urgently, she’d wanted to see Danny again, speak to him. But when she started to protest she happed to glance at Mose, and seeing his level stare, subsided with a squeaky, “Yes, Ma.” Charlie hollered inside that the wagon was ready, and the others left. Belle took another lingering look at George as Sally picked him up to check him over, then lay back on the bed and dozed off.

At almost the same time the stage was finally leaving Solace for the last stretch into Anderson’s Gulch. Sam Nichols was settled grumpily on one side, his aching leg extended, the only passenger and glad of it. After rising and leaving his room he’d heard of nothing but the jailbreak and murder the night before. The local peasants had seemed to think he’d care too, but he’d cut off any conversational attempts with curt grunts. All he cared about was seeing May Fenno again. They had some things to settle.

35

May dressed quickly and headed downstairs from the Silverado. She had managed to pull Dex away from the saloon and laid him to rest on one of the couches in the lobby of the hotel.

She found him, sitting on the edge of his resting place, holding his head with both hands. She smiled softly.

“How are you feeling, Dex?” she asked, smoothing a lock of hair away from his forehead.

Dex groaned. “Oh, don’t touch me, May. My head is fit to split.”

“Let’s go get some breakfast, then we need to find the Sheriff. I know we’re supposed to head to Solace, but I can’t leave until we get this horrible mess straightened out.”

Dex looked up, his eyes red and bleary. “What horrible mess?”

May realized to her dismay that since Dex had left the show early, as had been his wont the last six months, he was unaware of the accident that killed one of the spectators. She quickly filled him in.

'Your crossbow?" Dex asked, his face paling. “Someone messed with your crossbow?”

“Yes, Dex. There was a nick in it and it threw off the balance, which made the arrow fly wrong. What’s wrong?”

“Your crossbow,” Dex whispered, his face now shading to green. “Excuse me, May, but—” Dex bolted outside, to throw up on the steps of the hotel. May stared after him.

“What is wrong with you?” she asked, following him outside and stepping around the puddle of vomit. She frowned in distaste, but it wasn’t the first time she’d seen him endure the aftereffects of his drinking.

Dex grabbed her arms and leaned in. May turned her head, to get away from his breath of stale whiskey and vomit. “May, think carefully. Who was the man you killed?”

“Sheriff Clayton said it was one of the shop owners in town. A Mr. Hastings.”

“Damn damn damn,” Dex said, rubbing his jaw. “May, we have to leave town. Now.”

“I can’t!” May cried. “A man is dead by my hand, and I can’t run off until we find out who wanted him dead!”

“It’s more than this Hastings fellow,” Dex replied. “I’m afraid we may have more company.”

“What are you talking about?” May asked, her hands on her hips. She was getting very annoyed, and she was getting hungry.

“Your old beau, Nichols,” Dex answered.

May stared at Dex in confusion. “What does Sam Nichols have to do with Mr. Hastings?”

“Plenty. Let’s go. We’ve got to get everyone packed up.”

May shook herself loose. “No! I’m going to see the Sheriff.” She whirled and fled. Dex tried to follow, but the impact of his steps on the wooden sidewalk made his head feel like it was trying to explode. He moaned and cursed the day he had done Sam Nichols a favor and let May Fenno join his troop.

36

Zeke was in his office, pouring himself a coffee from a freshly brewed pot when the door banged open. “Damn, Slim! You look like you seen a ghost.”

“I believe I have. Mine.”

Now what? thought the sheriff as he motioned for Slim to sit down. Then he held up the coffeepot.

“Sure.” Slim explained as Zeke poured a cup for him, “strange things have been goin’ on around here lately. I’ve been hearing talk, nothing really serious. No definate cause for that fire was ever found, you know, then this business with Prairie Dexter’s show.”

“You think that bolt was meant for you?” asked Zeke as he handed Slim his coffee.

“Indeed. A few inches higher and they’d be measuring me instead.” Slim took a bit of paper out of his shirtpocket and handed it to Zeke. “I found this on my door this morning.”

37

Zeke took a look at the paper. It was deeply creased, as if it had been folded over many times. Roughly square in shape, two edges were slightly ragged, as if it had been torn from the corner of a larger piece. The printing was in small blocky letters. It read KEEP LOOKING OVER YOUR SHOULDER MCLEOD. THE ARROW MISSED IT’S TARGET MORE WAYS THAN ONE.

Zeke rubbed his face and though a minute. Looking over the tops of his fingers at Slim he said, in a thoughtful tone, “This note just said McLeod. You sure it isn’t for your father?”

“It was on my door” said Slim.

“Maybe someone gave the paper to someone else, just for delivery. Could have been someone messed up which McLeod to give it too. With your dad Ian bringing in all those acts to the Phoenix, maybe there’s some kind of business rivalry going on?”

Slim though about what Zeke Clayton had said. “Well, maybe, but I’ve shaken down my fair share of poker players, honestly you understand. Losers can hold a grudge.”

“You get any threats?”

“Not after they sobered up. Since I’m not drinking I have the advantage. Most of the marks I play with are just losing their mining pay. Only local that ever got really sore was…oh boy, Sam Goldstone.”

Zeke looked alert. “How long ago was that?”

“'Bout two weeks ago. I got $200 off of him.”

“Oh hell, though, that’s not proof. We just have too damn many things going every which way. The fire, the bridge, Hastings, that note of yours. Someone is stirring the pot, or more than one ‘someone’. All I need is for something else to happen now!” Zeke finished sarcastically.

Just then Charley Charging Bear stepped into the office. He’d arrived in town with Caroline and Mose. Mose was off seeing Doc McCaulley about Belle, and Caroline had gone to help Martha Hastings.

“Mornin’ Zeke, mornin’ Slim,” the big man greeted them. “Zeke, you heard from the sheriff in Solace yet about Jesse Parker?”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this” thought Zeke. He poured himself more coffee, figuring he was going to need it. “Go on, what’s happened now?”

38

Charley explained what he knew about Jesse’s arrest, which was not much, considering he’d gotten it second hand from Belle.

Zeke was appalled. He’d had a professional relationship with MacTavish, and was surprised that the Solace sheriff hadn’t come to him first before arresting one of the Gulch’s residents. The crime must have been murder, at the least, to circumvent such professional courtesy.

Dave banged in, gasping for breath. “Zeke, you gotta come quick!”

“What is it?” Zeke asked, automatically standing up and grabbing his holster.

“We found Goldstone! He was in the back room of his store…and he’s dead!”

39

Zeke and his deputy hurried over to Goldstone’s Dry Goods and found the shopkeeper lying in a pool of blood, a crossbow bolt in his chest.

“Dear Lord,” cried Zeke, “another shooting?”

“Pardon me,” came a voice from behind, “but this man hasn’t been shot by anything.” All eyes turned to see a stranger in a cavalry uniform. “From the angle of the bolt, I’d say he was stabbed.”

“You sure, Captain…”

“Tuttle, and I’d stake my life on it.”

40

The Cavalry officer stepped over the dead body and with long strides went out into the street. The two lawmen looked at each other with puzzlement on their faces.

“Don’t let anyone touch anything,” Zeke said and rushed out to join the newcomer as he stod just in front of the store.

As he was about to ask the Cavalry man exactly why he thought what he had jsut uttered, the noisy approach of the stage drwoned him out. The man sitting next to the driver drew his rapt attention. Tall, clean cut, and impeccably dressed, he stood ot without even moving.

“Nicky! Nicky, old boy!” yelled out Captain Tuttle, “Great to see you! SUrprising too.”

“Hello, Tuttle,” answerd Sam Nichols, “I see you finally made Captain. Who’d you have to blackmail for that?” He grinned slightly, softening his harsh tone with obvious sardonic wit.

Zeke stood transfixed, watching two strangers from nowhere he knew conversing as tho their being there in Andersons Gulch was simply a casual occurance. Seeing him standing there, Sam Nichols tossd a two bit coin at him as he climbed down and said, “Boy. See to it my things make it to the hotel.”

Before Zeke could even grasp the unintended insult, the two men were making their way to the saloon.