The Devil's Boneyard Read online

  Riley was right, the dirt was not packed at all and the grave had not been dug very deep, so in spite of his healing wound, he managed to help Reuben with the digging. It was a distressing sight that greeted them when they uncovered Dora and Paulene. In a hurry to cover them back up, it took some determination for Riley to keep probing until he was sure there were only the two bodies buried there. “Well, where the hell’s Frances?” Reuben asked. “There ain’t no other graves around here. You reckon they carried her off with ’em?”

  “What for?” Riley asked. “Frances is as old as you are. What would they want with her? She must notta been here, or if she was, she musta got away, somehow.”

  “If she did, I bet I know where she went,” Reuben said. “She’s got kin here in Waco.”

  That surprised Riley. “I never heard Frances say she had any kin anywhere, much less in these parts. Are you sure about that? Looks like she woulda mentioned it.”

  “She didn’t want nobody to know ’cause she didn’t wanna take a chance on anybody from the church botherin’ ’em. She’s got a niece and her husband livin’ not quite four miles from here.”

  “I thought you told us that she just wandered in one day, needin’ a place to stay,” Riley said.

  “She did,” Reuben replied. “She saw this place and thought it was a church, so she came in and said she didn’t have no place to go. When she found out where she had really landed, she didn’t care if we were outlaws. She told me she would cook for me, if I’d let her stay.”

  “Well, I’ll be doggoned,” Riley responded, “if that ain’t somethin’.” He thought about it for a minute, then asked, “Why didn’t she stay with her niece?”

  “She was afraid they weren’t fixed to take care of an extra mouth to feed. Her niece’s husband had just got started on a little piece of land he wanted to raise hogs on. And at that time, he hadn’t got anythin’ started but two little girls that was needin’ to be fed. So she just walked away one day, and this is as far as she got.”

  “Well, I’ll be . . .” Riley marveled. “I’da never figured that about Frances. Tell you the truth, I never thought much about where she came from, anyway. Just thought she came with the church, I reckon.” He thought about it for another moment, then dismissed it. “You reckon we oughta go to her niece’s house and see if she’s there?”

  “That’s what I’m thinkin’,” Reuben answered. “If she is, she can tell us what happened here.”

  “This is really a sorry piece of business,” Riley said, taking another look at the blackened remains of the old church. He rubbed his belly and added, “I was lookin’ forward to gettin’ a good dinner when we got here, too.”

  * * *

  Billy Wells was standing on the next to the bottom rail of the fence around one of his hog pens, watching his pigs gobble the slop he had filled the trough with, when he heard a horse whinny behind him. He turned to see the two riders entering the yard, the third visit by strangers in the last two days. Once again undecided if he should be alarmed, he decided his reception would have to be friendly, since he was not armed. He stepped down from the fence and turned to meet them. “Howdy,” he offered when they pulled up before him.

  “Howdy,” Reuben returned, not at all sure he had found the right place, since he didn’t know Frances’s niece’s name or the name of her husband. There was little doubt, however, that he had found a pig farm. “I’m lookin’ for a woman who works for me, name of Frances Wright. She’s got a niece around here somewhere, but I ain’t sure exactly where. If she’s here, I surely would appreciate it if you’d tell her that Reuben and Riley are lookin’ for her. We’ve been away for a couple of days and came back to find our place burnt to the ground. I’m hopin’ Frances is all right and thinkin’ maybe she can tell me what happened.”

  Billy wasn’t sure what he should do. He had no way of knowing if Frances would want to talk to these two strangers or not. Much to his relief, however, he was saved from making the decision by a call from the kitchen steps. “Reuben!” Frances called out and Reuben and Riley both turned their horses toward her, so Billy followed along behind them. Betty came out the kitchen door to join her aunt, after ordering Gracie and Francine to stay in the house. “I don’t think Reuben will do you any harm,” Frances said to Betty. “He’s always treated me good.”

  “I’m glad to see you’re all right,” Reuben said. “We just came from the church. What happened there? How’d it catch fire?”

  “Walt Murphy,” Frances said. That was all that was necessary to confirm what Reuben had already surmised, but he stood silent while she told him every detail about the vigilante raid and the outright murders of Dora and Pauline.

  “How many of ’em were there?” Reuben asked.

  She told him she wasn’t sure, but there were at least six or eight of them. “I could hear a little bit of what they were talkin’ about, and I think they were all men from the town. I know for sure the deputy sheriff was with ’em. He stayed with the sheriff after the rest of them went home.”

  “Vigilantes,” Reuben snorted in disgust. Her report of the ensuing visits, first by Walt Murphy, then by Ben Savage, was of special interest to him, especially that of Walt’s arrest by Savage. He turned to Riley and commented, “That sorta changes things, don’t it?” He turned back to Frances then. “Me and Riley has got some thinkin’ to do about what we’re gonna do right now. But it looks like you landed right side up.” He nodded to Billy and Betty in turn. “’Preciate you folks takin’ care of your aunt.”

  “This is my niece, Betty, and her husband, Billy Wells,” Frances said, belatedly. “And those two little devils with their noses pushin’ the screen-wire outta the door are their daughters.”

  “Pleased to meet you folks,” Reuben said. “We’re gonna miss your aunt’s cookin’, ain’t we, Riley? We’ll thank you kindly for the information. We’ll not trouble you any further.”

  “It wouldn’t be polite of me, if I didn’t offer you something to eat,” Betty suddenly spoke up, much to Billy’s surprise, as well as that of Reuben and Riley. “I bet you ain’t had any dinner, have you?” As astonished as any of them, Frances’s eyes opened wide, lifted by her raised eyebrows. She realized then that Betty had been surprised by the respectful politeness exhibited by the gray-haired outlaw.

  “No, ma’am,” Riley was quick to answer her. “We ain’t et yet. We was figurin’ on gettin’ some of Frances’s good cookin’, till we found the place burnt down.”

  “We wouldn’t wanna put you folks out,” Reuben said. “You sure weren’t expectin’ two hungry coyotes to show up here.”

  “No trouble a-tall,” Betty said. “Aunt Frances and I were just fixin’ dinner when you showed up. We’ve got plenty. We’ll just throw a few more potatoes in the pot and slice off some more ham. We made enough biscuits to feed twenty people. So you might as well join us for dinner.” She glanced over at her aunt, who was beaming with delight.

  “Well, me and Riley can’t hardly turn down a kindly invitation like that,” Reuben said, then paused a moment to look in Billy’s direction. “Is that all right with you, partner?”

  “She’s the boss,” Billy replied with a chuckle. So the Wells family sat down to dinner with one of the most fierce outlaws in Texas. It delighted Frances Wright, and she knew it would be a story repeated often by Billy Wells to his grandchildren when Gracie and Francine were grown up and starting their own families.

  As Betty had claimed, there was plenty of food, a fact that Frances very much appreciated when she recalled how little they had when she had left their house to find the church. Walt Murphy and Ben Savage were forgotten for most of the meal, until it was finished and the two outlaws remembered that they had places to go before nightfall. So they thanked their gracious hosts and said their good-byes. “Let me know if you get set up again,” Frances said to Reuben as they were leaving. “Billy and Betty may be tired of havin’ me around, and I might be lookin’ for a cookin’ job.” Reuben said
he would. As Frances and Betty watched the two outlaws ride away, Frances felt inspired to comment, “When you’re visitin’ with Reuben Drum, it’s hard to imagine he’s killed eleven men.”

  “Yes, it sure is,” Betty replied. “I wish you hadn’t told me that.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Anxious to have a look in Walt’s cabin, Ben started up the river right after Walt was settled in his cell. The directions Wayne gave him were somewhat vague, to the extent that Ben wondered if Wayne had ever been to the cabin. He followed the road along the Brazos until reaching the trail that forked off to the east, crossing the river at that point. That much was fairly simple, but he found that there were several homesteads along the trail that hugged the riverbank. Reduced to guesswork, he had to ask for help from someone, so he turned Cousin toward a farmer following a mule and plow around a field. The farmer saw him approaching, so he halted his mule and waited. “Howdy-do,” he said. “You look like you’re lost.”

  “I am at that,” Ben replied. “I’m lookin’ for Sheriff Walt Murphy’s cabin, but his directions ain’t that good. Am I even close?”

  “You’re close, but Walt ain’t gonna be there this time of day,” the farmer said.

  He seemed a bit cautious to Ben, so he thought he’d best flash his Ranger’s badge. “You’re right, he ain’t there. He’s in the jail. I know where he is, it’s his cabin I can’t find. My name’s Ben Savage. I’m a Texas Ranger, workin’ with Walt on a job, and I’m goin’ to fetch something from his cabin. Do you know where it is, Mr. . . .” He paused and waited for the name.

  “Johnson,” the farmer replied, “Bud Johnson. You’re on the right trail. There’s another farm past mine. That’s Roger Stewart’s place. Walt’s place is the next one you’ll come to. It’ll be easy to spot. Ain’t none of the scrub and trees cleared, just a cabin and a barn settin’ near the water. You’ll see it, soon as you pass the last cleared field.”

  “Much obliged, Mr. Johnson.” He wheeled Cousin away and went back to the trail. Just as Johnson had said, he came to a tract of land that had never been cleared of trees beyond what must have been felled for logs to build the cabin. There was one small patch of grass on one side of the cabin that might support one horse for a short time. It made Ben wonder why Walt bothered to keep the cabin up, why he just didn’t stay in town. Well, he’s got a permanent place in town now, he thought. He rode up to the front of the cabin and dismounted, leaving his reins around the saddle horn. “There you go, Cousin, you can go get yourself a drink of water, then if you’re hungry, you’ve got a whole pasture all to yourself,” he said, looking at the small grass clearing.

  He pulled a pry bar he found in the sheriff’s office out of his saddle sling where it had been riding with his rifle and let the horse go to the water. As he had expected, there was a large padlock on the door and a sign above it that read, THIS CABIN PROPERTY OF SHERIFF WALT MURPHY. He took a look at the door hinges, which seemed fairly stout, then looked at the door hasp. The hasp was definitely the weaker spot, so he went to work on it with the pry bar. In a short time, he wedged the nails holding the hasp out, leaving the big padlock to remain on the hasp and the door free to open.

  He walked into the dark interior of the small cabin and stood there for a few minutes just looking around him. Then he went around the main room and opened all the shuttered windows to get some light inside. Then the search began. He scoured the walls and floors, searching for some indication of a secret hiding place. He checked the stones in the hearth and fireplace, looking for a loose stone, anything that would give him a clue. There was nothing, no place to hide a large sum of money. There was not much in the way of cookware, but he looked in every pot, pan, and bucket he could find. He turned the bunk upside down. He inspected the rafters overhead for shelves or boxes. There was nothing. He finally decided the money was not there. “That leaves the barn,” he said.

  It wasn’t much of a barn with only one stall, but big enough to hold two horses, if necessary. There was a small hayloft that ran only about half the length of the barn and a feed and tack room. Not much of a barn, he repeated to himself, but I reckon he didn’t really have any need for one. Walt kept his horses in town. It appeared there was nothing to see in the barn, so Ben turned around and walked back to the door. He stood in the open door and looked back inside, not at all surprised that he had found no hidden money. The whole barn was of a rather shabby construction. Ben guessed that it had been originally built as a temporary barn, with plans to build a more solid structure later. Figuring he had wasted his time in coming out to the cabin, he took only a brief look around outside the two buildings before climbing back into the saddle and heading back to town. When he thought about it, he decided the sheriff would not likely hide the money in a place where he didn’t spend the night.

  * * *

  Seated at the desk that was now officially his, at least temporarily, depending upon how he handled the job during these critical days, Wayne Price tried to ignore Walt’s calls to him. Finally, he got up and went into the cell room to see what his prisoner wanted. “I can’t believe you’re treatin’ me like a low-down outlaw,” Walt said when Wayne came in the room. “You oughta know me better than to believe all that crap Ben Savage is tellin’ you. He’s got you and the mayor, and everybody else thinkin’ you can believe everything that crazy old woman says. Use your brains, Wayne, she’s Reuben Drum’s cook. Of course, those outlaws will try anything to get me.”

  “I don’t know, Walt.” Wayne hesitated. “But I think you’d best just set there a while till we get everything straightened out. I’ll get you a cup of coffee.” He offered, then paused, about to go back out the door, when he thought to ask, “What did you ride out there to see that woman for?”

  “To try to find out where Reuben Drum was, since he wasn’t at the church that night,” Walt answered. “Where’s Ben Savage gone? What’s he doin’ now, with me locked up in my own jail?”

  “He rode out to your cabin to see if you hid the money you took from Pete Russell somewhere out there,” Wayne replied.

  “I swear, I shoulda known that would be the first thing he’d be lookin’ for. He thinks I’ve got the money Pete Russell has took all the way outta Texas by now. And he’s got you thinkin’ it, too. What about Reuben Drum and Riley Best? Have you been back out to the church to see if they’ve showed up yet?”

  “No, I reckon I didn’t expect them to come back to the church after we burnt it down,” Wayne replied.

  Walt shook his head as if disappointed in him. “Dang it, Wayne, somebody oughta already been watchin’ that place. You need to let me outta here, so I can help you take care of this business. You’ve got too much for one man to handle.”

  “I can’t do that, Walt, you know that. Besides, I’ll have Ben Savage to help me when he gets back from your cabin. And you’ve got a wound in your shoulder, anyway.”

  “Shoot!” Walt responded. “You ain’t likely to see that jasper again. When he finds out there ain’t no money out at my cabin, I expect he’ll figure out that Pete Russell’s still got it, and it’s gone from these parts forever. Then there won’t be any use for him to hang around, if he ain’t got a shot at a big payday. He’s most likely on the road to Buzzard’s Bluff right now. Listen to me, Wayne. You’ve known me a helluva lot longer than you have that jasper, Ben Savage. All I’m askin’ for is a chance to hunt Reuben Drum and Riley Best down before they find a place to set up another outlaw camp near our town. You know you can trust my word. Just unlock this cell, and I’ll work with you to make sure we don’t have any more men like Reuben Drum campin’ in our front yard.”

  “If you do, Wayne, then I reckon I’ll have to shoot him again to keep him from runnin’.” They both turned to see Ben enter the cell room.

  Alarmed at first, Walt quickly got his emotions under control. “Well, Ranger Ben Savage,” he brayed, “I don’t see you carryin’ no big sacks of money. Looks like there weren’t no money out at my place, just like
I already told you.” He glanced at Wayne and winked.

  “It looks like I ain’t found your hidin’ place yet. That’s more like it,” Ben answered him. “It’s just gonna take a little more lookin’.” He shifted his attention to Wayne. “It’s gettin’ close to suppertime, so I reckon you’re gonna have to feed your prisoner. Who feeds him?”

  “Damn, that’s right,” Wayne responded. “We have an arrangement with the hotel dinin’ room to feel our prisoners. I didn’t even think about tellin’ ’em we have one tonight.” He shrugged, embarrassed. “It bein’ Walt and all, I just didn’t think about him bein’ a regular prisoner.”

  “Reckon we oughta feed him, anyway?” Ben japed.

  “I reckon,” Wayne replied. “All I have to do is tell Mary Jane how many to feed and she knows what time we feed ’em. And she sends the meals down here. I’ll take care of it right away.”

  “I’m gonna see if I can get a room in the hotel tonight,” Ben said. “I’ll tell Mary Jane for you, if you want. Matter of fact, I’ll eat supper there while I’m at it. Or maybe you’d like to go to supper early. If you do, I’ll watch the jail for you.”

  Wayne signaled Ben to follow him with a nod of his head, then promptly walked out of the cell room. When they were in the office, he confided, “You go ahead. I don’t feel like I can eat anything for a while. My stomach don’t seem to wanna settle down.”

  “Walt workin’ on you?” Ben asked, guessing that the young man was caught between his civic duty and his sense of loyalty.

  “Yessir, a little bit,” he confessed. “It’s just still hard for me to believe Walt Murphy’s sittin’ in there in that cell, and I’m the one responsible for keepin’ him there. You s’pose there’s any way we got this all wrong and Walt ain’t done what we think?”

  “Nope,” was Ben’s simple answer. “Walt’s capable of some of the most low-down things you can think of. He’s just been good at not gettin’ caught—until now. Are you gonna be able to do the job you got dropped on you?”