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  Unaware of the worry he caused his landlady, Will walked through the streets leading to the courthouse. Thinking Sophie would probably insist upon his presence at her wedding, he decided he would tell her that he had to go to Ward’s Corner. He could say that Henry Ward sent a wire to the marshal’s office about some trouble with his horses. That should be excuse enough. They all knew that he kept some horses at Henry’s farm. Satisfied with that, he put it out of his mind as he went up the steps to U.S. Marshal Daniel Stone’s office over the jail.

  Stone’s office door was open and the marshal seemed absorbed in a paper on his desk, so much so that he wasn’t aware of Will’s presence until Will tapped lightly on the doorjamb. Stone looked up, frowning, until he saw who it was. “Well, well,” he remarked, “so you ain’t dead after all.”

  “I was meanin’ to wire you from Sulphur Springs, but I got too busy to ride to the telegraph office,” Will said. “I didn’t count on runnin’ into trouble down in Texas, else I’da been back a week ago.”

  “Is that a fact?” Stone replied. “Well, if you’da took the time to wire me, I coulda told you I had a job for you back up near Tishomingo. And you wouldn’t have had to ride all the way back here, just to turn around and go back. Mileage you won’t get any pay for,” he added. “What kinda trouble did you run into down in Texas?”

  Will told him of the cattle rustling that led to three men getting shot, and how it affected him personally. “I figured I didn’t have any choice. I had to take care of it, since they were trying to kill my people on the J-Bar-J,” he concluded.

  Stone could really not find fault with Will’s actions. He would have done the same in his shoes. Will Tanner was his most effective deputy, but Stone thought it best that the young cougar not find out he held him in such high regard. He paused then to change the subject. “What the hell did you do to get Alvin Greeley so riled at you? He came back complaining that you ran off and left before the job was finished.”

  “I figured there wasn’t any reason to ride back with him and Horace when I was so close to the J-Bar-J. I told you that in the wire I sent.”

  “Yeah, you did,” Stone allowed. “It sure set ol’ Alvin off, though. He told me he didn’t especially wanna work with you in the future.”

  “Is that a fact?” Will replied. “Well, I certainly respect the man’s wishes. I don’t like to cramp anybody’s style.” He didn’t say more, but he was more than happy to know it would be unlikely he’d have to put up with Alvin Greeley’s sour disposition.

  Back to the issue at hand, Stone said, “Well, I reckon if the Texas Rangers can excuse you for doin’ their jobs for a little while, maybe you can do some work for the people of Arkansas, who pay your salary.”

  Will shrugged. “I reckon.”

  “Course, with Christmas comin’ up,” Stone went on, “you might suddenly become hard to find, like some of my other deputies.” He didn’t say so, but he had been laboring over a difficult decision when Will suddenly showed up, and it had to do with a telegram he had received that morning. There was a bad situation that could possibly be developing in the Chickasaw Nation and he had no one to send to take care of it other than Ed Pine. He hesitated to send Ed because he had been wounded pretty seriously a while back and was still not fully recovered, in spite of his insistence that he was ready to ride. Stone had begun to think Will had met with disaster when he didn’t show up for so long, but here he was, right when the marshal needed him. “How soon can you be ready to ride?” Stone suddenly asked.

  “Not before this afternoon,” Will replied, “dependin’ on where you want me to go. If it’s back in the Nations, I need to get my horses shod and back up my supplies.”

  “This might take a little time,” Stone said. “I know you mighta been thinkin’ about doing something special for Christmas.”

  Will interrupted before Stone went any further. “I ain’t got no special plans for Christmas. Where you want me to go?” An assignment couldn’t have come at a better time, giving him a legitimate excuse for not having to witness Sophie Bennett’s wedding.

  This was what Stone wanted to hear. “I got word while you were gone that we might have some real trouble outta Kansas headed our way. A gang of outlaws that have been operating in Colorado Territory, holding up mine shipments, stagecoaches, banks, and about everything else, have moved into Kansas. Their leader is a man the law has been trying to track down for a couple of years. His name’s Jack Lynch. At one time, he was operating in Arkansas, but that was a while back. He left there after he killed a deputy marshal. He’s got a nickname. They call him Scorpion Jack.”

  “Why do they call him that?” Will asked.

  “Hell, I don’t know,” Stone said. “Maybe he hides somewhere and you don’t even know he’s there till you turn over a board or something and get stung. Anyway, things were getting too hot for Jack and his gang in Colorado, I reckon, so they decided to get out and lay low for a while. But they robbed a bank in Wichita. So if they had planned to stay in Kansas, they musta changed their minds and decided to hightail it to Indian Territory. A posse of deputy marshals out of Wichita cut their trail before they reached Oklahoma, but lost’ em again. Best they could figure was they were headed down through Osage country. I got word this morning from Tom Spotted Horse that some of his people reported seeing four strangers hanging around a trading post near Tishomingo. Spotted Horse said he hadn’t seen ’em himself, but they might be Jack Lynch and his boys, and they’re figuring on holing up in Indian Territory.”

  “I expect I’d best get ready to ride, then,” Will said. “Like I said, my buckskin and my bay packhorse both need new shoes. I reckon I can get that done this afternoon and head into the Nations first thing in the mornin’.”

  Stone hesitated, knowing he could expect the usual argument from Will about working alone. According to law, a deputy marshal going after a felon was required to take at least one posseman and a cook if he would be transporting prisoners back to court. Stone had to remind Will of this law every time, and every time Will talked him out of it. On this occasion, however, there was no one else available but Ed Pine, and he had already ruled Ed out. So the argument this time amounted to no more than a precaution to Will that he had no notion of the number of men riding with Jack Lynch. Consequently, his job might be to simply find him and keep an eye on him until more deputies could be called in to make the arrest. “We can get some help from Tom Spotted Horse and Jim Little Eagle, maybe some of the other Indian policemen,” Stone said. “So don’t go getting yourself in a spot trying to arrest any of those outlaws by yourself.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that,” Will assured him. “I’ll take care of my horses today and head out in the mornin’.” He started to leave, but paused at the door. “It’s a good four days’ ride down to Tishomingo. There ain’t no tellin’ if Jack Lynch will be there when I get there. He mighta just kept on ridin’ on down into Texas.”

  “I hope to hell he has,” Stone said. Even though he said it, he was thinking how good it would look on his record to have his deputies put the noose on Scorpion Jack Lynch. And he couldn’t think of a better man to go after him than Will Tanner. “And Will, let me know what’s going on,” he called after him. “There’s telegraph offices up and down the railroad over there.” The tall, intense young deputy had a way of disappearing for long periods of time.

  “I will, boss,” Will said. He paused before going out the door. “Say, did you ever find out who that horse thief I shot was?”

  “Not yet,” Stone answered. “I wired Little Rock and told ’em about the fellow wearing those marked boots. So far, they haven’t responded. Christmastime and all that, I reckon.”

  * * *

  The rest of the day was spent taking care of his horses and restocking his supplies and ammunition. He returned to Bennett House for the noon meal while Fred Waits shoed his horses. Fred’s shop was right next to the stables, so he said he would take them bac
k for him. With everything taken care of, there was time left for Will to while away an hour before suppertime. He took the time to voluntarily split some firewood for the kitchen stove and some for the stove in the parlor as well. He gave a thought toward sitting in one of the rocking chairs on the front porch, but it was a little cold for that. So he stoked up the parlor stove and made himself comfortable on the settee where Judge and Mrs. Pearson had sat the night before. In no time at all, the little iron stove took the chill out of the parlor. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, enjoying the efforts of the little stove. Before he realized he was headed that way, he dozed off to sleep.

  “Well, if that isn’t a pretty picture, I don’t know what is.” He woke up immediately upon hearing her voice. Always a light sleeper, he was jolted awake, even though she had made an effort to speak softly so as not to awaken him. “Sorry,” Sophie said. “I didn’t mean to disturb your little nap.”

  “That’s all right,” he stammered, “I wasn’t really asleep.”

  “You weren’t?” she teased. “Liar, you were sleeping like a baby.”

  “No, I wasn’t,” he insisted, somehow embarrassed to have been caught sleeping by her.

  She laughed, delighted to see his embarrassment, but became serious then. “Mama said you told her you were leaving in the morning.”

  “That’s right,” he said.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Tishomingo.”

  “Tishomingo,” she echoed, at once alarmed. “That’s way over in Indian Territory. What about my wedding?”

  “I figured you’d still go ahead with it, anyway,” he said, trying to make a joke of it.

  She didn’t appreciate his attempt at humor. “I thought you would be sure to be at my wedding. Can’t Tishomingo wait until after?”

  He was frankly surprised by her concern. “I’m afraid not. Dan Stone told me I needed to get down there just as fast as I can, to try to head off some trouble. I woulda headed down that way this afternoon if my horses didn’t need shoein’.” Still somewhat astonished by the deep frown on her face, he asked, “Why does it matter if I’m at the weddin’?”

  She hesitated, suddenly realizing that she wasn’t sure of the reason herself. “I don’t know,” she stammered. “Because you’re my friend, I guess. I just thought you’d want to be there.”

  Well, I don’t, he thought. “I ain’t got much say in the matter,” he said. “There ain’t nobody else to go down there right now, and that’s the job I signed on to do, to go where and when they tell me to.” She made no response to his statement, but continued to gaze into his eyes for a few moments more before abruptly spinning on her heel and returning to the kitchen. “I wish you all the best,” he called after her, still puzzling over her attitude.

  “What’s eatin’ at you?” Margaret asked when Sophie came back in the kitchen, her face still wearing a deep frown.

  “Not a thing,” Sophie declared emphatically. “Why would you think something was?” She was having trouble, herself, trying to understand her feelings.

  “Because that expression on your face looks like you smelled some rotten eggs or something,” Margaret answered. “You’re supposed to have a constant smile on your face, thinkin’ about your weddin’ night comin’ up.”

  Overhearing, Sophie’s mother playfully scolded her. “Hush your mouth, Margaret. She should be thinking about helping us fix supper instead of what’ll happen between the sheets on her wedding night.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Two days out of Fort Smith, Will guided Buster toward a gap in the middle of a long line of hills before the Sans Bois Mountains. The gap marked the end of a narrow passage that led through the hills to a small meadow and the cabin of Perley Gates. Will planned to camp with Perley that night before moving on in the morning. It had been some time since he had seen the elflike little man, and he was curious to see if he was still there. He knew that, if he was, he could count on some fresh meat for supper, for Perley was a hell of a hunter. And he also knew that Perley would be joyfully grateful for the sack of coffee Will had brought for him.

  By the time he reached the gap, the sun was already settling low on the horizon. He followed the narrow pass that wound its way through the hills until finally coming out on the small meadow at the foot of a steep incline. The first time he had ridden into this meadow, he had to take a second look before he spotted the log structure built against the base of the mountain. Looking at it now, there was no sign of anyone about, but Perley’s dark Morgan gelding was grazing in the meadow grass. Perley was probably watching him, so he thought it best to announce his presence. “Hello, Perley!” he called out, and waited. In a few seconds, he heard a reply.

  “Hello, yourself.” The response came from behind him. It was followed a moment later by another. “Will? Is that you? Well, I’ll be go to hell!” Perley stepped out from behind a large pine tree at the edge of the clearing, his Henry rifle in his hand. “I swear, I watched you ride in, but the light’s got so dim down in this gulch that I couldn’t tell right off who was comin’ to call.” He waited for Will to dismount, then pumped his hand vigorously in welcome. “What brings you up this way? You chasin’ somebody and thinkin’ they mighta holed up in that cave up above here?”

  “Perley,” Will greeted him, “you old buzzard, I just wanted to see if you were still kickin’.” Perley gave him a big grin in reply. “No,” Will said, answering his question, “I ain’t lookin’ for nobody in that cave. I’m on my way to Tishomingo, and I figured I’d camp with you tonight, figured I’d best stop by because I know you’re outta coffee.”

  “By damn, that is a fact,” Perley said. “Been out for three or four weeks. How’d you know that?”

  Will laughed. “’Cause you’re always out, and every time I meet up with you, I have to give you half of mine.” He walked back to his packhorse and untied a sack from the pack saddle.

  “Hot damn!” Perley exclaimed as he accepted the sack. “I can already taste it. You’re always welcome, Will, but when you bring coffee, you’re really welcome.”

  Will had to laugh at the little man’s childish delight for the gift. “You mentioned the cave. Like I said, I ain’t lookin’ for nobody in the cave, but what about it? Anybody hidin’ out up there now?” He asked the question only out of curiosity. It was really a stone passageway over forty feet long, near the top of a mountain, its existence known by few, but often used by outlaws on the run. Perley had led Will to it when he was tracking a vicious killer named Eli Stark. In fact, that little adventure was how Perley came by the dark Morgan in his corral. The horse had belonged to Stark. Will made him a gift of the horse for his help in finding the vicious outlaw.

  “Last time I was huntin’ up that way, couple of weeks back, there weren’t nobody up there,” Perley said. “Who you lookin’ for now?” Will told him he was on his way to Tishomingo because Tom Spotted Horse had reported that some strangers had shown up near there that might possibly be an outlaw gang out of Colorado. “Fellow named Jack Lynch is supposed to be the leader. I don’t reckon you’ve heard anything about him over this way, have you?”

  “Jack Lynch,” Perley repeated, and shook his head. “Can’t say as I have. Course it’s dang near a three-day ride from here to Tishomingo. You think they might be over this far?” The thought was enough to cause concern.

  “I doubt it,” Will replied. “Like I said, they’ve been operatin’ in Colorado. Probably never heard of Outlaw Cave.”

  Perley nodded his agreement. “A gang, you say. How many?”

  “Don’t know for sure,” Will said. “Tom didn’t say.”

  “And you came by yourself,” Perley commented dryly. He shook his head as if exasperated. “I ain’t never seen no other deputy marshal come over here in the territory without a posse and a wagon. And most times that was to arrest one man. You ever think you might need a little help?”

  “I reckon not,” Will replied, then grinned. “I figure if I need some
help, I can just call on you.”

  “Huh,” Perley snorted, and took Buster’s reins. “Come on, let’s put some meat on the fire and build us a pot of coffee.”

  Will unsaddled Buster and stripped the packs off the bay, then turned them out to graze with Perley’s horse. While he was doing that, Perley built up the fire inside the cabin to roast some fresh venison he said he had killed that afternoon. Before putting the meat on to cook, however, he got his coffee grinder out and went to work on some of the beans Will had brought. Will decided it had been a good decision to visit Perley on his way to Tishomingo. Perley was happy to have some company for a change, and Will was able to enjoy some fresh-killed game instead of the salt pork he was packing. If things turned out like they usually did, it might be the only night he could relax with a friend and talk about things that weren’t important.

  “I’m right glad you got here this evenin’,” Perley said, “’Cause I’d halfway made up my mind that I need to move my camp to a better spot.” This surprised Will because Perley had often boasted that there would always be enough game in the Sans Bois Mountains for him in his lifetime. He continued. “I was thinkin’ about ridin’ down toward the Jack Fork Mountains—in the mornin’, as a matter of fact. I ran up on some deer down there about a week ago, and there’s a heap of sign. And deer is gettin’ kinda scarce around here lately. I ain’t been able to get enough hides to even buy myself a little coffee now and then.” He paused to chuckle. “Have to wait for you to come by.”

  “I expect if you’re really thinkin’ about movin’ your camp, you’d best get it done before hard winter sets in,” Will said. “You know deer as well as any man. Maybe they’ll be back in these hills again if you ain’t huntin’ ’em for a while.”

  “That’s kinda what I’m hopin’,” Perley said. “I’ve got a pretty good camp here, been here for a long time. I’d like to come back.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I’m gonna ride down to the Jack Forks for a spell, and if it’s all right with you, I’ll ride along with you in the mornin’, at least that far.”