Die with the Outlaws Read online

  “Ain’t no tellin’ who it was,” Carter said, “but it’s best we get our job done, ’n then get on outta here.”

  “No! No!” Mary Ella screamed.

  “Damn you all to hell!” Jim shouted.

  Jim and Mary Ella were pushed off the boulder, their cries of protest turned to no more than grunts by the rope. They didn’t fall far enough for their necks to be broken, so they hung from the limb, not more than a foot from the ground, struggling against the ropes that were slowly strangling them.

  They were so close together that during their struggles their bodies often came together. As the struggles grew less until they ceased entirely, Jim reached out to grab Mary Ella’s hand. They held on as long as they could until their grip was loosened as first one, then the other, was claimed by death.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Purgatory Pass

  Carter reported to DuPont when he and the others returned from their job. “Someone seen us when we done it.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know who it was, but whoever it was, he started shootin’ at us.”

  “Just one person?”

  “I think it was just one person, but I don’t know that for sure.”

  “Do you think he recognized you?”

  “He was close enough to see us real good, but whether or not he actual knowed who we was, well, I can’t say.”

  “If they recognized you, they will know that you are part of the Regulators.”

  “I’m sorry, boss. But we sure didn’t know nobody was there.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” DuPont said. “This might work out better for us.”

  “I sure don’t see how that can be. I mean what we done is we hung a woman. Folks ain’t likely to look too good on that.”

  “It depends on how the story is told,” DuPont said. “And I know someone who can tell the story for us.”

  * * *

  It was dark by the time Isaac rode into Rongis, though there was light from the houses and a few of the businesses that were open late. The two most brightly lit buildings were the saloons, the Wild Hog and the Pair O’ Dice. He started toward the Wild Hog but changed his mind and rode onto the Pair O’ Dice, instead.

  Isaac had always heard it said that he wouldn’t be allowed in the Pair O’ Dice, but he didn’t know if that was true or not. He had never tried. He was about to put it to the test, because the man he wanted to see was Matt Jensen. Isaac would either find him there or he would be able to find out where Jensen was.

  Dismounting, Isaac looped his reins around the hitching rail, then pushed into the well-lit interior. He stood just inside the door for a moment, looking around at the customers, nearly all of whom were returning his gaze. Some were doing more than just staring at him, because he overheard a few of the remarks.

  “What’s he doing in here?”

  “He’s got no business in here.”

  “He ought to stay with his own kind.”

  “Yeah, well, there ain’t that many coloreds in town.”

  “I ain’t talkin’ about that. He’s one o’ them Regulators. That’s who I’m talkin’ about.”

  Isaac stepped up to the bar, and a few of the drinkers moved aside, isolating him by their action.

  The bartender moved down to confront him. “Can I help you?”

  “Will you serve me a drink?”

  “You have the money?”

  “I do.” Isaac put a nickel on the bar. “I would like a beer, please.”

  Cheatum drew a beer, then put it in front of Isaac. He picked it up, his hands shaking.

  Cheatum reached out gently to still Isaac’s shaking hands. “Mr. Newton, you don’t have to be scared. As far as I’m concerned, you’re as welcome as any other customer as long as you don’t make any trouble.”

  “You know who I am?” Isaac was surprised at being addressed by name.

  Cheatum smiled. “You’re the educated colored man who rides with DuPont, aren’t you?”

  “No,” Isaac replied. “That is, I don’t ride with DuPont anymore.”

  Cheatum slid the nickel back across the bar. “In that case, this beer is on the house.”

  “Thank you.” Isaac lifted the mug but, as before, his hands were shaking.

  “Something awful has happened, Mr. Cheatum. Something unspeakable.”

  “What?”

  “I think I should probably tell Mr. Jensen first. Do you have any idea where he is?”

  Cheatum glanced toward the grandfather clock that stood against the back wall. “Right now, I would say that he is over at the Palace Café having his supper. But he generally comes in here for a few minutes afterward.”

  “Is it all right if I wait for him?”

  “Sure. You can stand here at the bar, or if you would rather, there’s an empty table back there by the piano. Most folks don’t like to sit there ’cause they complain that the piano playing is too loud for them to talk.”

  Isaac drained the rest of his beer, then again put forth the nickel Cheatum had returned. “I’d better have another one while I wait.”

  When Matt stepped into the Pair O’ Dice fifteen minutes later, he was surprised to see Isaac Newton. He was sure that Cheatum wouldn’t actually turn him away, but he had never seen him in here before.

  “Hello, Matt,” Cheatum greeted.

  “Hello, Lonnie. I see you have a new customer.” Matt made a nodding motion toward the table where Isaac was sitting.

  “He wants to talk to you,” Cheatum said, automatically putting a beer in front of Matt.

  Matt took the beer back to the table. “Hello, Newton. Lonnie tells me you want to talk about something.”

  “I saw it happen, Mr. Jensen. I had no idea they would actually do such a thing. I thought they were going to keep them somewhere and I followed them so I would be able to tell you where they were. But they—” Isaac paused in midsentence and was quiet for a long moment.

  Matt made no effort to prod him on. He knew that whatever it was had had a profound effect on him, so he waited until Isaac could gather himself.

  “They lynched them, Mr. Jensen. They lynched both of them, the woman, too.”

  “Who?” The question exploded from Matt’s mouth, but he didn’t want to hear the answer. “Was it Hugh and Lisa?”

  “Jim Andrews,” Isaac said. “He and his woman. They were lynched.”

  For just a moment Matt felt a sense of relief that it hadn’t been Hugh and Lisa, but just as quickly he felt guilty for being relieved. “Who did it? Are you willing to share that information?”

  “Yes, I’ll tell you exactly who did it. It was Asa Carter, Moe Greene, Walter Toone, and John and Lem Mason.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Mr. Jensen, I haven’t lived what you would call an exemplary life since I left the legal profession. In fact I have engaged in numerous felonious acts. But I have never killed anyone, and the sight of those two struggling for their lives at the end of a rope will haunt me until my dying day.”

  “Why were they lynched? I mean, I could understand maybe if they broke into their house and shot them. But why lynch them?”

  “DuPont set it up as if they had been rustling,” Isaac said. “They brought four Straight Arrow cows with them, then said they found them on the Circle Dot.”

  “Straight Arrow cows, you say? Were Kennedy and O’Neil in on it?”

  “They weren’t there, of course, and I have no proof, nor even circumstantial evidence, that they were actually involved. But I would say that there is a significant chance that they were at least aware.”

  “Will you lead me to where it happened?” Matt asked.

  Isaac nodded. “All right. When do you want to go?”

  “Right now, if you think you can find them in the dark. No, wait. They’re dead, so there’s no need to hurry. I’d rather go out tomorrow morning so we can take Mr. Prufrock and his hearse with us. I intend to bring them back for burial.”

  “I’ll meet you to
morrow morning at the mortuary,” Isaac said.

  Leaving the Pair O’ Dice, Isaac walked down to the Wild Hog, where he was greeted happily by Fancy.

  “There’s my handsome man!” Fancy gushed.

  “She’s been wonderin’ where you was,” McCoy said.

  “Yeah, we all been wonderin’ where you was,” Carter added, looking at him with what Isaac perceived as a suspicious expression.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Isaac said.

  “Try me.”

  “I was in the Pair O’ Dice.”

  “What?” Fancy demanded. “Honey, ain’t I done tole you not to go messin’ aroun’ with them trashy white girls? You wasn’t doin’ that, was you?”

  Isaac forced a chuckle. “Now why would I want some white girl, when I have a sepia Nubian beauty like you?”

  “Oh, honey, you talk so pretty,” Fancy said.

  “Why were you there?” Carter asked.

  “To win a dollar from McCoy,” Isaac said.

  “What?” McCoy asked, puzzled by the comment.

  “Do you remember when you bet me a dollar that I couldn’t buy a drink in the Pair O’ Dice? I told you I might take you up on it someday.”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “Well, I took you up on it. I bought a drink in the Pair O’ Dice, and now you owe me a dollar.”

  “How are you goin’ to prove that?”

  “He done it,” Carter said.

  “What? How do you know?” McCoy asked.

  “’Cause I seen ’im goin’ in, ’n I was wonderin’ why.”

  Isaac breathed a sigh of relief. He knew that Carter would be suspicious of everyone until he found out who had been shooting at them. And having seen him go into the Pair O’ Dice would have directed those suspicions toward him.

  “There you go, McCoy. Carter is all the proof I need.”

  “Yeah, all right,” McCoy said, pulling out a dollar.

  “Honey, do you plan to spend any of that money on me?” Fancy asked.

  “What if I put two more with it and spend the entire night with you?” Isaac asked.

  “I’ll give you the best time you ever had,” Fancy promised.

  Isaac needed a place to spend the night so he could meet Jensen in the morning, and he could stay with Fancy without Carter or any of the others asking questions.

  * * *

  By midmorning the next day, Matt, Isaac, and Seamus Prufrock, the mortician, were standing at the small promontory just south of the Sweetwater River, staring at the gruesome sight before them.

  The bodies of Jim Andrews and Mary Ella Wilson hung from a tree limb, turning slowly. Their eyes had bulged from the sockets, their tongues were sticking out, and their faces were beet red and contorted from the struggle.

  “I couldn’t stop it. I tried. I was over there.” Isaac pointed to the rock he had been hiding behind. “I shot at them, hoping to at least interrupt what was going on, but I was too far away to hit anything and as soon as I fired the first time, they pushed Mr. Andrews and Miss Wilson . . .”

  “Mrs. Andrews,” Matt corrected.

  “I’m sorry. Yes, Mrs. Andrews. As I was saying, with the first shot they were pushed off that rock.” Isaac pointed to the small boulder where the two victims had been standing. “By then, it was too late for me to do anything to help them, even if I could.”

  Matt put his hand on Isaac’s shoulder. “I know that you did all you could do, and I appreciate you coming to me to tell me what happened.”

  “I don’t plan to go back into town with you,” Isaac said. “As a matter of fact, I don’t plan to stick around any longer. It isn’t safe for me here.’

  “I understand.” Matt glanced over at Prufrock, who was still staring at the hanging bodies. “Mr. Prufrock, we’ll help you cut them down and load them into your hearse.”

  Straight Arrow Ranch

  “We done somethin’ last night that we’ll be needin’ your help for,” DuPont told Kennedy and O’Neil. ’N there might be some trouble, seein’ as they was someone that seen ’em doin’ it.”

  “Do what? What did you do?” O’Neil asked.

  “You been wantin’ to get the Circle Dot, ain’t you?”

  “Yes, we have.”

  “Well now you can get it, on account of Andrews ’n that whore is both dead. Only thing is, they was someone who seen the lynchin’ ’n it could lead back to the Regulators, and to you ’n Kennedy as well.”

  “What are you talking about? We had nothing to do with the lynching,” O’Neil said.

  “That don’t matter none. You’re goin’ to wind up with the ranch, ’n ever’one is goin’ to think you two was the ones that done it.”

  “Then I would suggest that you find out who was the witness and take care of it,” Kennedy said.

  “There’s another way we could take care of it,” DuPont said.

  “And what way would that be?”

  “You ever heard of Frank James? He was an outlaw we had in Missouri.”

  “Of course I have heard of him.”

  “Yeah, well, here’s the thing. Frank James is about as bad a outlaw as there’s ever been. Only he ain’t in jail ’cause all the newspapers made a hero out of ’im. ’N you got a newspaper that’s wrote some real good stories about you, ain’t you?”

  A wide smile spread across O’Neil’s face. “Tyrone, I have to give you credit for that. You have just come up with a brilliant idea!”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Rongis

  The funeral for Jim and Mary Ella was held in the Pair O’ Dice Saloon. The “good” people of the town were quick to criticize the fact that it wasn’t being held in a church, but they were also the very ones who prevented Jim and Mary Ella’s friends from using the church.

  Only the braver citizens of the town, those who didn’t fear being ostracized, showed up. All of the smaller ranchers and their cowboys, as well as the nearby farmers, turned out for the funeral, and for most of the women, this was the very first time any of them had ever been in the saloon. The bar girls, Jennie Lou, Linda, Carol Ann, and Edna, two of whom had known Mary Ella when she had worked in this very saloon, were sitting together quietly. Unlike their usual risqué attire, the four young women were dressed as modestly as any other woman present.

  It had begun raining shortly after everyone arrived, and the storm-caused darkness in the saloon was pushed back by the same lanterns that, at nighttime, made the saloon the most brightly lit building on the street. The tables were all pushed to one side, which allowed the chairs to be lined up in rows. Matt was sitting in the same row as Hugh and Lisa, Ed Sanders, Jake Haverkost, LeRoy Patterson, Travis and Alice Poindexter, and Ernest Dean and Anne Fawcett.

  Sheriff Clark was present, as were Art Walhausen and Seamus Prufrock. Colleen and Cooter were there as well, but they spoke to no one, and they sat in the very last row. None of the Regulators were present, nor did anyone expect them to be.

  The two coffins, polished mahogany, were set on sawhorses in front of the chairs. The hanging had so distorted the features of the deceased that the coffins were closed.

  Because he managed the saloon and had known Mary Ella and Jim very well, Lonnie Cheatum volunteered to give the eulogy. Lisa had suggested to Hugh that he might play the music, but Bill Boyce, who was the regular piano player at the saloon, asked if he could do so, and Hugh agreed that that would be appropriate.

  Boyce played “Nearer My God to Thee” and “I Need Thee Every Hour.” Then, to the surprise of everyone, Jennie Lou sang “Safe in the Arms of Jesus,” her voice unexpectedly as pure and as sweet as the voice of an angel.

  Cheatum got up to speak. “Some might think it’s raining outside, but those aren’t raindrops. No, sir, not a bit of it. What’s comin’ down outside are tears bein’ shed by the angels for these two good people, our friends, who are about to be laid to rest. Some might condemn Jim for cohabitating with Mary Ella, and those same people would say that she does not de
serve a Christian burial. But I ask you to remember how Jesus dealt with such a woman.

  “He said to Simon, ‘Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You gave me no kiss; but she, since the time I came in, has not ceased to kiss my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she anointed my feet with perfume. For this reason I say to you, her sins, which are many, have been forgiven, for she loved much; but he who is forgiven little, loves little.’ Then He said to her, ‘Your sins have been forgiven.’

  “Now folks, that’s what Jesus said, ’n if he could show love and honor for a woman who was a soiled dove, are we to do less?

  “I’d like to invite you now to go outside and stand in the teardrops of angels as we put Jim and Mary Ella in the ground, where they will lie side by side for all eternity just as they did while they were here, alive amongst us.”

  The small ranchers lined up to act as pall bearers, and they carried the coffins out to the hearse, where they lay them side by side. The rain continued to fall on everyone as they went out to the cemetery, where dressed in black and standing under black umbrellas, they bore the rain for the graveside service.

  The graves had already been opened, and when the caskets were lowered, Cheatum led everyone in the Lord’s Prayer. When the prayer was concluded, the mourners left the cemetery, some on foot, a few on horseback, and the others in buckboards and wagons.

  Neither Colleen nor Cooter had spoken to anyone else.

  After the burial, Cheatum closed the saloon to the public, though it was open to anyone who had attended the funeral and who wanted to have a place to visit. Hugh and Lisa went home, but Matt, Sheriff Clark, and Art Walhausen returned to the saloon.

  “You know it’s a hard life out here, and I’ve seen a lot of men and women buried,” Sheriff Clark said. “I have to say that I’ve put a few of the men there, myself. But something about this one just gets all over me. Not just that it’s a lynching. I’ve seen lynchings before. But to hang a man and his wife like that? I just can’t come to grips with it.”