Riding For The Brand: Sage Country Book Three (4 page)

Back at the house, Bat and I had an early lunch and then walked back into town together so he could catch the 12:10 to Denver.

When we got to the top of the hill near the courthouse, we stopped for a moment. Bat was red faced and sweating. By the way he bent over; I could tell he had a stitch in his side. He looked up at me.

“I can see you’re not fully recovered, John. You look a bit peaked. Are you feeling alright?” He stayed bent over, panting a little.

I chuckled. “You’re the second person to say that to me, today. All this walking back and forth is the most exercise I’ve had in over two weeks. I’m fine though. I just need to build up my strength.”

Bat nodded. “You’ll be back in fighting form in no time. I’m a bit winded from the hike myself.”

“It’s the altitude, not the grade or the distance,”

“It’s all that, and more,” he replied, patting his ample belly.

We both chuckled at the comment.

At the depot, we stood there talking as the train came whistling down the tracks and chugged to a steamy halt at the platform.

We waited for the arriving passengers to get off, one of whom caught Bat’s attention.

“I say, Theodore, is that you?”

“Why, Bat Masterson, bully to see you!” The man responded. He struck a pugilist’s pose, fists extended, grinning a toothy grin. Bat matched his pose for a moment, the two men looking remarkably alike.

“Hah! What are you doing in Bear Creek, Theodore?”

“Just stretching my legs, I’m on my way to Denver, and then back to the city. How about you? Are you still in the fight game?”

Bat waggled his hand, indicating ambiguity.

“Theodore, let me introduce you to my friend John Everett Sage. John, this is Theodore Roosevelt. You two have something in common.”

“How do you do Mr. Roosevelt,” I said, shaking his hand. 

“Are you
the
Sheriff Sage, the celebrated shootist? I wonder what we might have in common.” The man said, looking me in the eye.

“You’re both in law enforcement, Theodore. That’s what you have common. John, Theodore is the Police Commissioner for the city of New York.”

“Well, that’s impressive. You’re a long way from home, Mr. Roosevelt.”

“I have some land in North Dakota, Wyoming and Montana. I had a cattle operation, but the winter of ’87 did me in, wiped out my entire herd. I’m still in love with the west. Beautiful country, I come out here whenever I can.”

“Theodore is something of a reformer, John. He’s cleaning up the police force in New York City.”

“I imagine it will take some doing.” I observed.

“I’ve heard you know how to deal with corruption yourself, Sheriff Sage. Bully for you!”

“You can’t believe everything you read in the papers.”

Nodding his understanding, Theodore looked thoughtful for a moment.

“I believe we may have another friend in common, besides old Bat here.”

“Who might that be?”

“Do you know John Browning?”

I grinned.

“Yes, I surely do.”

“Board! All aboooard!” The conductor called.

“That’s us, Theodore.” Bat said. “John, thanks for your hospitality and consideration. Don’t worry. I’ll see your story gets properly published.”

“Good bye, Bat. Mr. Roosevelt, it was a pleasure to meet you.” I said, shaking hands all around.

The two men turned and boarded the train, each stepping aside for the other, Theodore finally boarding before Bat. The two looking so alike, they could’ve been brothers.

As the train pulled away from the station I thought about what a strange man Bat Masterson was. Imagine him knowing the Police Commissioner for the city of New York! Bat was something of a rascal and Theodore was a hard-nosed reformer, but clearly, they were friends.

***

I found Tom in his office at the police station.

“Good afternoon, Chief.  What’s new with you?”

“Well, howdy, Sheriff Sage. I’m just going over the reports. I don’t know what to do with these sagebrush orphans. We’ve got a crime wave going on.”

I wondered if Tom had made the sagebrush orphan reference because he knew it was how I got my name.

I’d been one of those sagebrush orphans. They called me a sagebrush kid, eventually just “that sage kid”, and the name had stuck.

Life can be especially harsh and unforgiving, west of the Mississippi. Many of these orphaned kids were the unwanted children of prostitutes, while others were children whose parents had been lost to the sudden calamities common throughout the west.

“They’re stealing just about anything that’s not nailed down. My officers have caught several of them, but I can’t lock em up in my jail
or
yours. They’re just kids. The crimes have been mostly petty thefts so far, but it’s just a matter of time till something worse happens.” He said.

“I’m going to address the issue with the county Board of Commissioners tonight. I got a letter from Mrs. Poole, or I should say Mrs. Bradley, the preacher’s wife. She detailed specific terms for the administration of her gift, and included the deed to the property up at North Fork. We can have a fully functional orphanage within a matter of weeks, maybe even sooner, once we get the commissioners to sign off on the deal.”

Tom smiled. “You wouldn’t mind if I came to the meeting and addressed the commissioners myself, would you?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“When are the uhhh, ‘Bradley’s’ coming back?”

I knew Tom was referring to the Reverend Jeff Bradley and his new bride, Emma Bradley, our friends who were formerly known by other, more notorious, names.

“It probably won’t be long. Once people stop coming to see the place where the famed gunfighter, Wes Spradlin, was killed, and others forget Mrs. Bradley was once the legendary Mrs. Poole who ran some rather successful bordellos…”

“Yeah, it wouldn’t do to have Wes Spradlin suddenly resurrected in our midst, would it?” Tom speculated.

“No. But, Ed tells me about fifty of the outlaws, tramps and losers have pulled out of North Fork. That’s most or all of the people who might’ve known either Wes or Emma in their previous lives. I’m confident they’ll be able to start a new life in North Fork.”

“It’s a better chance than most folks get. It’ll be a new life for both them and the town.”

“God willing, things are turning around up there. The deal with the logging company is pretty much done. There’ll be a new sawmill and new families moving into North Fork, before the snow flies.”

“They’ll have a new church and a new preacher as well.” Tom added. “I hear they’ve already started construction.”

“And the county orphanage,” I pointed out

“I expect the Governor is pleased, John. You’ve accomplished more than he asked you to do.”

I shrugged.

“I haven’t heard from him and I don’t expect I will. He’s probably distancing himself as far from me as he can, at least until the ruckus dies down. He doesn’t want people to think he sent a killer up there to clean up the town with gunfire.”

“Politics, John. Both of your careers start and end with politics. He’s an elected official, just like you are.”

“So you keep reminding me.”

Politics has never interested me, but as Tom is fond of reminding me, I’m an elected official. It’s an aspect of the Sheriff’s job I do not enjoy.

Part of the responsibility involves going to the monthly County Board of Commissioner’s meetings. Because I’m a county employee, I’m answerable to the Board of Commissioners. It’s through them all business matters of the Sheriff’s department are funded and approved.

To say I got a mixed reception at the meeting would be an understatement.

It was clear the commissioners had already been talking to each other and had chosen sides. About half of them were happy to see me and greeted me warmly, enquiring about my recovery. The other half wouldn’t even make eye contact with me and gave me the brush off as quickly as they could.

It didn’t help that the local newspaper,
The Bear Creek Banner
, openly opposed me at every turn. It really irked me, because they’d found in me an abundance of colorful stories (mostly fabricated) which improved both their circulation and revenue from advertising.

It was evident the commissioners were surprised at the attendance of this seemingly routine board meeting.

The seven of them were seated behind a couple of tables pushed together in front of the Judge’s bench in the courthouse. They were facing the rows of seats in the gallery, now fully occupied by the citizens in attendance. There were even people leaning against the walls.

Not expecting much of a turn-out, the commissioners had only printed about fifteen copies of the agenda, not nearly enough for all the people in attendance.

There was a continuous murmur of voices as the citizens of the county discussed the meeting. The atmosphere was…expectant.

The chairman struck his gavel to bring the meeting to order. They started by reading the minutes of the previous month’s meeting and voted to accept them as read. They moved on to old business generated by the previous meeting.

As usual, there was a long discussion about manure disposal and the need to limit the horse traffic in town. Maybe the county should build a wagon yard just outside town, where people could park their rigs and manure pickup would be much easier.

Eventually someone moved the matter be tabled because it was more of a city issue than a county issue, and no one from the city had officially requested it. It was quickly seconded and the vote was called. The vote to table the matter was, as usual, unanimous.

When the old business had all been addressed, it was time to move on to the matters listed on the agenda for this meeting. Most of it was routine and related to collection and distribution of revenues, which eventually brought them to the issues involving the County Sheriff’s office.

“Sheriff Sage, we’re glad to see you’re feeling well enough to represent your department in this meeting. We have a number of concerns to address…” The chairman started. “First, let me say we find your recent conduct entirely…”

“Excuse me, Mr. Chairman. My conduct is not listed on the agenda for this meeting. There are, however, other issues which
are
on the agenda. As a point of order, don’t you think we should address those items on the printed agenda? I believe public discussion of my conduct might have to wait until we get to new business.”

The resulting murmur from the crowd was not wasted on the chairman.

“Hmmm. Yes, of course. I see here you have requested additional deputies, once again. I don’t see any need for …”

“Excuse me, Mr. Chairman. I believe this is the time when I’m supposed to explain my request and outline the benefits to the county. Are you calling for a vote without discussion?”

“Well, no but…”

“My department now has one less deputy since the last meeting of this board. Additionally, the county is providing a law enforcement presence up at North Fork. As you may be aware, at the request of the Governor, all open gambling and prostitution has been shut down in North Fork…”

“We all know what you’ve done, and how you did it. You’re nothing but a two bit gunman…” The chairman started.

The sound of the angry protests from the crowd drowned out his next words. Two of the committee members rose to their feet and began shouting at the chairman, who began pounding his gavel in earnest. When order was restored, he tried again.

“I apologize for my previous remark, Sheriff Sage. The fact I personally find your behavior to be reprehensible should not affect the course of this meeting. Please conclude your remarks so we can vote on the matter.”

“My point is this, Mr. Chairman. The sheriff’s department is actively engaged in law enforcement throughout the county, enforcing ordinances, collecting fines, seizing property, managing the jail, transporting prisoners and providing security at trials. We just don’t have enough men to do it all as well as it should be done.

As you know, there was a recent jailbreak. It could’ve been avoided if I had more deputies. The county continues to grow in population and tax revenue continues to increase, but I now have fewer deputies than I had last month.”

The crowd began to murmur again. I saw Jerry Starnes, the publisher, reporter, printer and owner of the
Bear Creek Banner,
writing furiously with his pencil.

I spoke up a little louder.

“I need to keep a deputy up at North Fork, and another out at Waller. It takes hours to get to either of those locations and we only go there in response to a problem. The people of those communities pay taxes just like the citizens of Bear Creek. They have a right to feel their law enforcement needs are being met as well. I need at least three more deputies in order to effectively provide for the law enforcement needs of the people of this county.”

The crowd continued to murmur in agreement.

The chairman banged his gavel again.

“Does that conclude your remarks, Sheriff Sage?”

“On this part of the agenda, yes sir.”

“Fine, we’ll vote on it then.”

“Hang on, Jed. The other members of the committee are entitled to discuss the matter before it comes up for a vote.” One of the commissioners pointed out.

“Very well, is there any discussion?”

“I’d like to say something,” Tom said, as he stood up from his seat in the crowd.

“I’m sorry, Chief Smith, but we can’t include members of the public in this discussion. It is a matter of order. You’ll have to save any comments until we move on to new business.”

“Well now, Jed, it seems to me the Chief of Police isn’t just an ordinary member of the public. Because he’s actively involved in law enforcement too, I’ll let him make his comment in my place.” One of the other commissioners offered.

“Uhh, I don’t know if you can do that…”

“…Won’t take me but a minute.” Tom said.

“Well, please be brief.”

“Sheriff Sage is the best lawman I’ve ever met. He’s been a very good friend to my department. I have prisoners in his jail almost every day. When the bank was robbed, he was the one who tracked the robbers and it was his hard work that eventually nearly got him killed, just a couple of weeks ago.”

The crowd buzzed in agreement.

“Chief Smith, is there some point to this story?” The chairman asked.

“Yes sir, the point is as the Chief of Police for the city of Bear Creek, I think the Sheriff should get whatever he asks for.” Tom said.

The crowd roared in agreement.

The chairman banged his gavel and waited for the crowd to settle down.

“Is there any further discussion?” He asked.

When there was no response from the other commissioners, the chairman called for a vote. The vote was five to two in favor of my getting three new deputies. I’d been hoping there was a slim chance I might get even one!

We had some other minor issues to discuss and the only vote taken was to accept my report as given.

“As this concludes the agenda items, I’ll ask if there is any new business to be brought before the board of commissioners,” the Chairman said, with eager anticipation.

Before he had the chance to begin a discussion of my performance, I spoke up.

“Yes, there is.”

The chairman scowled.

“Sheriff, why didn’t you mention this before and have it added to the agenda.”

“I just received a letter today which prompts me to bring the matter to your attention.”

“And what is this matter?”

“It’s about the orphans. We’re all aware in the last few weeks; there’ve been a large number of incidents of petty theft which appear to have been the work of unattended children. These children don’t have anyone to take care of them and they’re learning to take care of themselves, by any means necessary. The problem is nearly unmanageable now, and it will only get worse unless we do something about it.”

“As you said, we’re all aware of the problem, She
ri
ff Sage. We don’t know who these children are or where they came from. I suppose we could round them up and ship them off to some sort of state run work facility. What would that cost?” The chairman asked.

There was an angry murmur from the crowd.

“Such action would be rather cruel, and it wouldn’t solve the problem. May I share the contents of the letter I mentioned?”

“Proceed.” The chairman said, with some reluctance.

“This letter details the terms of the gift to the county of about twenty five acres of land and a large house in excellent condition. I’ll skip the personal parts and just read the pertinent details.

“
The land and the house are a gift to Alta Vista County, subject to the following provisions; The land and house are to be used by the county for one purpose and one purpose only, that being the establishment and maintenance of an orphanage to house and care for any and all orphaned children found within the boundaries of Alta Vista County. The house and land may not be sold by the county or used for any purpose other than the establishment and maintenance of the Alta Vista County orphanage
”.

The crowd interrupted me with a round of applause and cheering. When the hubbub died down, I resumed my appeal.

“The deed to the property is included with the letter, Mr. Chairman. There is also a monetary gift, which is to be used to provision the house with such furnishings and facilities as may be needed to house and feed the orphaned children.”

There was more applause from the crowd.

“There is however one additional proviso the county must accept, or the gift will not be made.” I said, not at all happy at having to mention it.

“And that is?” asked the chairman.

I read the statement as written in the letter.

“This gift is contingent on each and every one of these provisions being fully met; failure to meet any one of these provisions will negate the deed and cause forfeiture of the gift. The final provision herein is that the property and the orphanage once established on it, is from henceforth and in perpetuity to be called ...The John Everett Sage Children’s Home of Alta Vista County.”