Kill Crazy (18 page)

“You're a little free with your gun, aren't you, mister?”

Elmer looked up at the questioner, and smiled. “Hello, Cline. It's been a good while, hasn't it?”

Chapter Twenty-five

Marshal Cline stared at Elmer for a long moment before recognition slowly passed across his face.

“Gleason? Elmer Gleason, is that you?”

“Well, I ain't no ghost.”

“Hell, I heard you went to sea. I thought maybe you'd drowned someplace.”

“Near 'bout did a couple of times. Have a seat. I'll buy you a drink. And 'cause we ain't seen each other in a long while, I'll buy you the most expensive drink in the house.”

Marshal Cline smiled, then took his seat. He lifted his hand toward the barkeep. “Whiskey,” he called out.

“I heard you was marshalin' up here,” Elmer said. “I had to come see for myself if it was true.”

“Well, you've seen,” he said, taking the whiskey from the barkeeper. “What do you think?”

“I have to say that I'm damn surprised. I never thought I'd see my old friend C.F. Cline on this side of the law.”

“Old friend? We may have pulled a couple of jobs together, but we never was what you would call close friends. Hell, the way I remember it, you run away to sea to keep me from killin' you.”

“Is that the way you remember it?” Elmer asked, calmly and unemotionally.

“Yeah.” Cline took a drink, then set the glass back down. “Hell of it is, though, I don't remember for the life of me why it is that I was about to kill you.”

“Does that mean I'm safe, 'til you remember?”

Cline laughed. “I reckon it does. What'd you kill the boy for?”

“It seemed the thing to do. I mean, seein' as he was tryin' to kill me.”

“Did you know him?”

“I met him about fifteen minutes ago.”

“You only knew him for fifteen minutes, and he tried to kill you? How the hell did you piss somebody off enough in just fifteen minutes that he wanted to kill you?”

“It might have had something to do with the fact that I sort of knocked him facedown into a pile of horse shit.”

Cline laughed again, this time so hard that he got the attention of the others in the saloon. One of the others came over to the table.

“For a marshal just come to arrest someone for a killin', you two seem to be gettin' on pretty well.”

“Johnny, this here is my old friend Elmer Gleason. Elmer, this is Johnny Taylor.”

“You robbed the bank in Chugwater,” Elmer said. It wasn't a question, nor was it a challenge. It was a simple statement of fact.

“How do you know that?” Johnny asked, his suspicions aroused. “Are you a lawman?”

“Hell, Johnny, ever'body in Laramie County knows you robbed that bank. And no, I ain't no lawman any more than my ol' friend C.F. Cline is a lawman.”

“That's a funny way of puttin' it. Seein' as Cline is a lawman.”

“Is he?”

Johnny looked at Cline, then shook his head and smiled. “I reckon you're right. He ain't no lawman. Not no real lawman, anyway. Real lawmen ain't welcome here. So, tell me, Gleason, what are you doin' in Bordeaux?”

“I come here 'cause I thought this was a place where folks didn't ask you a lot of fool questions.”

“Some folks don't ask questions and some do. I got a reason for askin'. Seein' as you know I held up the bank in Chugwater, it could be that you are a bounty hunter. If you are, you're goin' to play hell collectin' on it.”

“Or, it could be that your operation was so slick, and you got so much money, that I might be wantin' to join up with you for your next one.”

“How do you know there's goin' to be a next one?”

“I don't see you walkin' away from a winnin' hand on the table.”

“You and Mr. Gleason ought to get along, Johnny, seein' as you are in the same business,” Cline said.

“You've held up banks before?” Johnny asked.

“With your marshal,” Elmer answered.

“Jonesburg, Kansas,” Cline said.

Johnny nodded. “All right, come on, let me introduce you to some of my pals.”

Elmer stood up, but before he walked away he looked back down at Cline. “What about the man I just kilt? Do I need to be signin' any papers, or goin' before a judge, or a justice of the peace or anything?”

“You got twenty dollars on you?” Cline asked.

“Yeah, I got twenty dollars.”

“Give it to me, and this will all go away.”

“Twenty dollars, and I don't hear nothin' else from it? How does that work?”

“I'm not your ordinary kind of city marshal. I don't draw a salary from the city. I have to come up with my own ways of makin' money.”

“I'll give you ten dollars.”

“That ain't enough. I got to make a livin'.”

“Twenty dollars is all I got. I ain't givin' you all I got.”

“Keep your twenty dollars, Mr. Gleason,” Johnny said. “I'll pay it for you.”

“Well, that's mighty nice of you.”

Johnny put a twenty-dollar bill on the table in front of Cline, then escorted Elmer over to meet the others with him.

“Gleason wants to join up with us,” Johnny said after he introduced him to the others.

“I don't know, he's a little old, ain't he?” Evans asked.

“You might be right,” Johnny replied. “I know that's what Kid Dingo thought.”

The others laughed.

“Yeah, well, I don't mean nothin' by it. I was just sayin', is all.”

During the entire conversation Harper had been staring at Elmer. Now he spoke for the first time. “I've seen you before, somewhere.”

“I wouldn't doubt it,” Johnny said. “I expect you two have run in some of the same circles.”

“No, I've seen him somewhere just real recent,” Harper said.

“I was wonderin' if you would recognize me.”

“Then I have seen you before, ain't I?”

“Yeah, you have. But belly down on the horse like you was, I'm surprised that you seen me at all. Or anyone else for that matter,” Elmer said.

“What?” Johnny asked. “What are you talkin' about, belly down on a horse?”

“I'm talkin' 'bout the last time me 'n' Harper met. Only we didn't exactly meet. I was standin' just real close whenever the marshal took him down off the horse and arrested him. I was in the court when I heard the judge let you go, too.”

“Harper, you never told us nothin' about you bein' belly down over a horse. What was that all about?”

“Maybe you better let me do the tellin',” Elmer suggested. “I seen it all.”

“All right, you tell us what happened,” Johnny said.

“What happened is a man by the name of MacCallister come up behind Harper in the saloon. And without so much as a fare-thee-well, while Harper wasn't lookin' MacCallister brought a chair down on top of Harper's head, knocking him out. Then, while Harper was still unconscious, he dragged him out of the saloon and tied him belly down over his own saddle. I've seen a lot of dirty tricks in my life, but that's near 'bout the dirtiest I've ever seen.”

“That the way it happened, Harper?” Johnny asked.

“Yeah,” Harper said, glancing toward Elmer. The expression on Harper's face indicated his thanks for the way Elmer had told the story. “That's the way it happened all right. The son of a bitch hit me from behind.”

“Then you got as much of a beef with MacCallister as I do.”

“Let me add my own beef to it,” Elmer said.

“What's your problem with MacCallister?”

“I had a sweet deal goin', saltin' an old abandoned mine and gettin' suckers to invest in it. Then MacCallister come along and homesteaded the land where my mine was. He dynamited the mine shut, and I was put out of business. The main reason I'm wantin' to join up with you boys is because I want to be a part of the next job you pull. But I was also sort of hopin' that I might get a chance to get back at him.”

“We're goin' to take care of MacCallister all right,” Johnny said. “But first things first. First thing we're goin' to do is get my brother out of jail.”

Elmer shook his head. “You ever seen that jail?”

“I seen it once, in the dark.”

“Well, Harper has seen it, 'cause he was in it, so I know he'll agree. That jail is built out of a double brick wall with reinforced concrete poured down between the walls. If you was to try and blow a hole in that wall, you'd have to use so much dynamite that you'd kill anyone that's inside, includin' your brother.”

“Don't worry, we ain't goin' to try nothin' like that. I've got a different plan, and we've already started it,” Johnny said.

“If you was in Chugwater the other day, you prob'ly already know about it,” Blunt said. “We kilt two of the citizens and left 'em lyin' in the street.”

“I was there.”

“We plan to do that again,” Johnny said.

“How many do you plan to kill?”

“I plan to kill as many as it takes, until they turn my brother loose,” Johnny said. “Why? Do you have a problem with that?”

Elmer stuck his hand down into his pocket and pulled out six more shotgun shells.

“I might have to buy me a few more shells,” he said.

Johnny laughed out loud, then slapped Elmer on the back. “Elmer, you're all right,” he said. “After we take care of business down in Chugwater, it'll be good to have you along for our next job.”

“Did you really get over thirty thousand dollars out of that robbery in Chugwater?” Elmer asked.

“Thirty? We got over forty,” Calhoun said, proudly.

“Forty thousand dollars.” Elmer whistled. “I ain't never seen that much money in my whole life. You boys got it on you? Could I see it?”

“Now, do you think we would be so dumb as to carry that much money on us in a place like this?” Johnny asked. “We got near all of it hid out.”

“Where you got it hid?”

Johnny glared at Elmer for a moment; then he laughed. “What? Do you expect us to tell you that, so you can just waltz in and take it all yourself?”

“You can't blame a fella for tryin',” Elmer said, smiling back at Johnny. “So, how soon before we can pull another job so I can get some money like that for my own self?”

“I told you. After we get my brother out of jail. And I plan to take another step in that direction tonight.”

 

 

The night insects were singing as Johnny, Elmer, and the others waited just outside of town.

“We goin' to get us another couple of drunks tonight?” Evans asked.

“No. Turns out the two we kilt didn't have no kin in town, so it didn't really make that much of a difference to anybody whether they was dead or not. I'm changin' the plans. Tonight we're goin' to raise the stakes a little.”

“What do you mean?” Ike asked.

“Tonight we're goin' to make sure we kill someone that will get the attention of the rest of the town.”

“You got 'ny idea who that might be?”

“Yeah, I got me a good idea,” Johnny said. “They's a woman in town that runs a café. Well, not a regular café. The only thing she sells in her café is pies, but I had me a piece of pie while I was in town, and seemed like there was lots of folks come in to her place while I was there and near all of 'em knew her, and called her by name. Vi, I think it was. I figure if we kilt Vi, and left her body out in the street, it would for sure get some attention.”

Chapter Twenty-six

It was eleven o'clock at night and it was cold enough that the horses exhaled clouds of vapor, which floated away, white, in the night air. Seven men—Johnny, Evans, Calhoun, Thomas, Leroy Blunt, Harper, and Elmer Gleason—were riding toward the town of Chugwater.

“How are we going to do this?” Evans asked. Of Johnny Taylor's original gang, only Evans and Calhoun remained.

“It's easy. The pie woman lives in a little cabin out behind her pie shop, across the alley from it,” Johnny said. “It's like a whore's crib.”

“A whore's crib?” Calhoun said. He laughed. “Maybe she figures that if the pie business don't work out for her, she can always whore some.”

“Is she good lookin' enough to whore?” Blunt asked.

“Who says a woman has to be good lookin' to be a whore?” Ike Thomas asked. “Hell, if you had to be good lookin', there wouldn't be a whore in Bordeaux.”

“You got that right,” Calhoun said.

“If you men will shut up and pay attention, I'll tell you what we are going to do,” Johnny said. “We'll wait 'til town is real quiet, then we'll ride in, go 'round back of her place, go into her crib, and kill her.”

“More 'n likely, she'll have the door locked,” Harper said.

“I ain't never seen a lock that Bart Evans couldn't pick,” Johnny said. “The thing is, we need to be real quiet.”

“What if she screams?”

“If we get to her fast enough, one scream won't mean much. Folks that hear it will just figure it's a whore screamin'. Whores is always screamin' 'bout first one thing then another.”

“Damn,” Elmer said. He stopped. “Hold it up for a moment, will you?”

“What is it?”

“My horse has gone lame. Might just be a rock in the foot, I don't know, but he's limpin' so bad I can't keep up with you. Wait up for a while.” Elmer dismounted, then picked up his horse's right hind foot.

“We can't be waitin' for you. We need time to scout the town out for a bit before we do this,” Johnny said.

“You can't wait on me, just for a few minutes? If I'm goin' to join up with you, I aim to be a part of this.”

“What if it's a split hoof?” Johnny asked. “If your horse has a split hoof, you'll just get in the way.”

“All right, I tell you what. You boys go on ahead. If it's no more'n a rock, I'll prob'ly catch up with you. If it's somethin' worse, I'll go on back to Bordeaux. That is, if he can get me back that far.”

“All right, catch up with us if you can. Let's go, boys,” Johnny said.

The others rode off as Elmer stayed behind to examine his horse's hind foot. He watched until the others disappeared in the dark, then he remounted and started riding hard, not by the same trail they took, but by a dry creek bed that he knew led to a spot just behind Curly Lathom's barber shop. He covered the distance in about five minutes. The dry creek bed was almost a full mile shorter route than the one being taken by Johnny and the others. In addition, Elmer had ridden as fast as he dared in the night. When he came out behind the barbershop, he figured that he had at least ten minutes before the others would reach town. The first thing he did was go directly to Vi's house. He knocked on the door.

“Vi! Vi, it's me, Elmer! Wake up!”

A moment later, Vi opened the door. She was in her nightgown and she smiled up at Elmer.

“Elmer, what are you doing here?”

“Get dressed, quick!” Elmer said. “Get dressed quick, and come with me. Don't show any light.”

“Elmer, what's going on? You are frightening me.”

“I mean to scare you,” Elmer said. “Do what I tell you, I'll explain it all later. Now come with me—we're goin' to see the marshal.”

“All right, if you say so,” Vi said.

“Hurry, Vi,” Elmer said. “Lock your door when you leave, as if you are still in the house.”

It took Vi but a couple of minutes to pull a dress on over her nightgown. Then Elmer lifted her onto his horse, and they hurried down to Marshal Ferrell's house.

“Elmer, what's this all about?”

“I'll tell you and the marshal at the same time,” Elmer said. “Just trust me.”

“I do trust you,” Vi replied.

The marshal's house was but two doors down from his office and the jail. With Vi standing beside him, Elmer pounded on the marshal's door.

“Marshal Ferrell! Marshal Ferrell! Wake up! Wake up!”

“I'm comin', I'm comin'. Keep your shirt on,” a muffled voice responded from inside. A moment later, the door opened partially, and Marshal Ferrell peered through the crack.

“Who's there? What do you want?”

“It's me, Marshal. Elmer Gleason. I've got Vi Winslow with me.”

“Vi?” the marshal said, opening the door all the way. He stood there, dimly backlit by a low-burning lantern.

“Elmer, what is it? What's wrong?”

“It's Johnny and his gang, Marshal. They're comin' in town tonight.”

“Damn. If it's like the last time, you can guess what they have in mind.”

“I don't need to guess,” Elmer said. “I know what they got in mind. They're plannin' on murderin' Vi Winslow. That's why I brung her over here. I figured maybe she could wait here with Mrs. Ferrell while me and you take care of Johnny and his gang. That way she'll be safe.”

“Yes, of course. Come in, Miss Winslow. Emma, come out here a moment, would you?”

Marshal Ferrell's wife, Emma, came into the front room, clutching a dressing gown about her.

“Miss Winslow is going to stay here with you for a while. I've got to go out.”

Before Jerry Ferrell had become the marshal, he had been a deputy marshal for Craig, so Emma was used to being married to a law officer. She asked no questions, but smiled at Vi to make her feel welcome.

“How many are there?” Marshal Ferrell asked.

“There are six of them,” Elmer answered.

“Six? All right, well, at least we'll have the advantage of surprise. “You step down to the jail and tell Deputy Mullins what's going on. I'll join you soon as I get dressed.”

“All right,” Elmer agreed.

Less than five minutes later, Elmer, Marshal Ferrell, Deputy Mullins, and Deputy Pierce were behind the corners of buildings on the north side of town from which direction Elmer figured the night riders would come. Pierce was limping around on a bandaged leg, but he insisted upon being a part of it.

 

 

As Johnny and the others came into town, their horses' hooves clopped hollowly on the hard-packed dirt of First Street as they passed the dark stores and businesses of Chugwater. Here and there, a very small yellow square of light shined from one of the quiet buildings. Somewhere a dog began to bark, and another, a little closer, answered his bark.

“Hey, Johnny, what's this pie woman look like?” a voice said in the darkness. “I mean, think maybe we could have a little fun with her before we kilt her?”

“What difference does it make what she looks like?” another voice answered. “Ain't you ever heard that all cats are gray in the dark?”

There was a ripple of ribald laughter from the riders.

 

 

“That's far enough, men! Throw up your hands!” Marshal Ferrell challenged.

“What the hell!” one of the men shouted gruffly.

“Let's get out of here!”

Elmer recognized the last voice as belonging to Johnny Taylor.

The riders started shooting, and Elmer, Marshal Ferrell, and his two deputies returned fire. Muzzle flashes lit up the night street, and gunshots roared as the riders turned and galloped away.

All but one.

As the horses disappeared into the darkness, and the gunshots stopped, a still form lay in the middle of the street.

And another still form lay on the porch in front of Sikes Hardware store.

“Marshal! Marshal Ferrell!” Deputy Pierce called. “It's Frankie! They kilt Frank Mullins!”

All up and down the street, lanterns were lit and brought out onto the front porch by curious residents. Now as many as half a dozen dogs were barking and at least two babies were crying.

“What is it? What happened?” someone shouted.

Within moments, several lanterns started drifting up the street as the men who were carrying them could no longer contain their curiosity.

Marshal Ferrell went over to check on Deputy Mullins, but Elmer went straight out into the middle of the street to see which one of Johnny's men had been hit.

It was Bart Evans.

Evans wasn't dead yet, though he had at least three wounds in his chest. The wounds were from double-aught buckshot, so Elmer knew he was the one who had shot him.

“Gleason?” Evans gasped. “Are you are a lawman?”

“No, I ain't no lawman,” Elmer said. “But Vi Winslow is my woman. And I'll be damn if I let you bastards kill her.”

“I never did trust you anyway, you son of a . . .” Evans was unable to finish the sentence. He gasped a couple of times, and then he died.

 

 

“I would have stayed longer, and got more information out of them,” Elmer said to Duff later that same day. “But the sons of bitches was plannin' on killin' Vi. Can you imagine that, Duff? They was goin' to kill Vi and leave her lyin' out in the street the way they done with Percy and Walt. I couldn't let that happen, so I come on in town ahead of 'em, and warned Marshal Ferrell.”

“And 'twas the right thing you did, Elmer,” Duff said.

“I just wish that I had kilt Taylor instead of Evans.”

“You did what needed to be done,” Duff said. “Now, at least, we know where they are. I'll be riding up to Bordeaux today to pay a call upon Mr. Taylor.”

“Not by yourself, you ain't goin',” Elmer said.

“Elmer, did you nae tell me that Bordeaux was an outlaw town?”

“Yeah, that's what it is all right.”

“And would you nae be recognized the moment you rode into town? Especially after last night.”

“I probably would,” he agreed.

“And is there any doubt but that Johnny and the others know you betrayed them?”

“I'm pretty sure they have figured it out, by now.”

“Then would you be for tellin' me why I would want you beside me when I rode into town? They would start shootin' the moment they recognized you.”

“Yeah, all right, I see what you mean. But Duff, even as good as you are, you can't take on the whole town.”

“Then I'll take but a wee bite of the town,” Duff joked.

“When will you be goin'?”

“A few days yet. Young Frankie Mullins was engaged to R.W. Guthrie's daughter. That makes him a friend, and I'll nae go before his burying.”

 

 

Within the next three days there were two burials, but only one funeral. Bart Evans was put in the ground on the very afternoon of the day he was killed, with only the two grave diggers present. They dug the hole, lowered the plain, unadorned pine box into the ground, then shoveled the dirt back in. He lay next to Julius Jackson, Al Short, and Jim Blunt, and like their graves, his was marked only by a board on which his name, and nothing else, had been painted.

Three days later, the entire town turned out for the funeral of Deputy Frank J. Mullins. His mother and father lived in town, where his father owned and operated Mullins Meat Market. Harold Mullins was a former Texas Ranger and his background had been the inspiration for Frank to become a law officer.

Deputy Mullins had been engaged to Jennie Guthrie, and she was at the graveside now, wearing a black dress and veil as she stood next to Frank Mullins's mother.

At the request of Harold Mullins, Duff had agreed to play “Amazing Grace” on the pipes, and when he showed up at the cemetery he was wearing the kilt of the Black Watch, complete with the
sgian dubh
, and the Victoria Cross. The long, drawn-out, plaintive notes of the music drifted over the cemetery and into the town, so that even the very few who had not turned out for the funeral could hear the mournful chords.

When the music was completed, the Episcopal priest committed Frank Mullins's remains to the ground.

“Thou only art immortal, the creator and maker of mankind; and we are mortal, formed of the earth, and unto earth shall we return. For so thou didst ordain when thou createdst me, saying, ‘Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.'

“Receive our brother Frank Mullins into the arms of thy mercy, into the blessed rest of everlasting peace, and into the glorious company of the saints in light.
Amen.
”

At the invitation of Deputy Mullins's parents, a tearful Jennie Guthrie dropped the first handful of dirt onto the casket.