Will Tanner Read online

  Overhearing, Pride spoke up. “Fix him another plate, Mammy, and put it on my bill. I’ll set down with him and have another cup of coffee.” He looked at Will and grinned. “I figure I sure as hell owe you that much.”

  “It’s on the house,” Gus chimed in at that point.

  “Why, thank you kindly,” Will said. “I did work up a little appetite.”

  Mammy stood for a moment, holding a tray with the dirty dishes she had picked up, until the table was set upright again. Then she spun on her heel and headed toward the kitchen, muttering in disgust, “Men and their guns.”

  “I ain’t never known Gus to give anything away before,” Pride teased. “What if Clyde finds out you’re givin’ away his profits?”

  “Clyde might be the owner,” Gus replied, “but I’m the one behind the bar when the bullets were flyin’.” He turned to take another look at the three bodies. “I expect we oughta drag them out of the middle of the floor.”

  “Hell,” Pride snorted. “They ain’t in anybody’s way—might as well leave ’em lay till Doc gets here.”

  “Yeah, but they’re bleedin’ all over my floor,” Gus complained. “I wish they’da waited to jump you outside.”

  One of the interested spectators, bending low over Luther Gamble’s body, declared, “Ain’t nothin’ Doc can do for this one. He’s dead. Best send for Edward instead.”

  Dr. Peters walked in the door in time to hear the comment. Only slightly irritated to be called away from home at suppertime, he said, “Might as well examine them, just in case.” A quick examination confirmed the customer’s diagnosis, and by the time he got to the other two, they were gone as well, so he said that Edward Kittridge could come for the corpses. He looked at Gus and said, “It’s gonna cost you a drink of whiskey for my services.”

  Gus had some of the men help Pride and Will drag the bodies outside to wait on the porch for the undertaker to come for them. Pride relieved the bodies of their weapons and anything of value, explaining to Will that he hoped they had enough on them to pay for their burial. He explained that if a deputy marshal killed a felon, he had to bear the cost of his burial. When he was satisfied that he was compensated, they went back inside to finish their supper.

  Pride was interested to find out more about this Good Samaritan with a gun, so he questioned Will so intensely that Will was driven to ask a question of his own. “Are you thinkin’ I’m an outlaw or something?”

  Will’s response brought forth a lusty chuckle from the big lawman. “Well, no, I ain’t, but since you brought it up, are you wanted for a crime somewhere?”

  “No, I’m not,” Will said, “unless you’re fixin’ to arrest me for shootin’ that feller just now.”

  Still grinning broadly, Pride assured him. “Nah, that was in self-defense. Besides, I officially deputized you to help me arrest them outlaws. I just forgot to tell ya.” He paused while Mammy brought out a fresh pot of coffee and filled their cups, then he continued. “So you ain’t been doin’ nothin’ but punchin’ cows all your life?” Will nodded, and Pride went on. “Things were happenin’ fast back there, but I couldn’t help noticin’ you were pretty handy with that Colt you’re wearin’, and pretty cool in the middle of all that shootin’.”

  Will shrugged indifferently. “I reckon I didn’t have much time to think about it,” he offered.

  “Practice a lot with that Colt, do ya?”

  “I don’t reckon I practice with it at all,” Will said, thinking the man must really have a deep interest in firearms. “Shoot a snake with it now and again. That’s about all.”

  “Well, now you’ve shot a man with it,” Pride reminded him. “How do ya feel about that?”

  Will shrugged again. Now the conversation was getting a little strange. “I don’t know how I feel about it,” he said. “’Bout the same as shootin’ a snake, I reckon. Tell you the truth, I hadn’t thought about it one way or the other. I didn’t go to kill anybody, but the feller shot at me, so I shot him.”

  “He had it comin’, right?”

  “I don’t know if he did or not,” Will said impatiently. “But he shot at me, so I shot him.”

  Pride sat back in his chair, pleased with his impression of the young stranger. “From what you’ve been sayin’, I take it you ain’t sure you’re headin’ back to drivin’ cattle again.” As before, the comment was met with a shrug from Will. “You consider workin’ for the U.S. Marshals Service?”

  “Shoot no,” Will said at once without having to think about it.

  “Why not?” Pride pressed. “You said yourself you ain’t got no place in particular to go to. So what are you gonna do? I wouldn’t have even mentioned it to you, but I ain’t ever seen a man with better makin’s for a deputy marshal than you—and I ain’t known you for longer than about an hour. Do me—and yourself—a favor and think about it. The Marshals Service needs men that think fast and ain’t scared when bullets are flyin’.” He sat back in his chair again and drained the last of his coffee while he watched Will, who was obviously thinking the proposition over. Pride had refrained from telling his potential recruit one of the main reasons he had been trying to sell him on the service. The mortality rate for deputy marshals was high. His boss, Marshal Daniel Stone, had just been bemoaning the fact that he had lost two deputies in the last month, both victims of ambush by outlaws. He thought about sharing that information with Will, but he had gotten the impression that it would not have been a deciding factor for the young man. On the other hand, it might have been, so why mention it?

  “I don’t know, Fletcher . . .” Will paused. “That’s right, ain’t it? . . . Fletcher?” He was sure that was the name Gus told him. Pride confirmed it with a nod, so Will continued. “I sure as hell never thought about being a lawman. I don’t know anything about it.”

  “You don’t worry about that,” Pride assured him. “We’ll take care of that.”

  “Like I said, I don’t know,” Will hedged. “Let me think about it for a while.”

  Thinking that if he had him on the fence, it wouldn’t take much to pull him on over, so he asked, “Why? Back there when that Gamble feller shot at you, you didn’t have to think about it for a while. Whaddaya say you meet me right here in the mornin’ and we’ll go talk to U.S. Marshal Daniel Stone? It’ll mean a steady paycheck and a few extra bonuses from time to time.”

  “Wouldn’t hurt to just talk to him, I reckon,” Will conceded, since he didn’t have any plans for the next day. Pride gave him one firm nod, as if putting a period on the conversation, leaving Will to wonder if he was making a smart decision for himself. He finished his coffee and said good night after promising to return in the morning. He thought about the prospect of becoming a U.S. Deputy Marshal, still not finding it a natural job for him. He had never had any desire to protect the people and punish the lawbreakers. But he honestly did not want to return to driving cattle all his life. This thought brought to mind the three men he had left at the J-Bar-J, Shorty, Slim, and Cal. He wondered if he was letting them down, and immediately told himself that he was not. They knew how to manage cattle. They didn’t need him to tell them how. As far as possibly building the operation into something closer to the way it was when Jim Hightower ran it, Shorty had a good head on his shoulders. He was as likely to make it successful as Will was, and Will had told him to run it as if he wasn’t coming back. If he didn’t return, the ranch would be his free and clear. Hell, he thought, what am I worried about it for?

  He slept that night on his bed of hay, his horses fed and watered, and his stomach filled with a good meal. Tomorrow might mean a major change in his life. He wondered what Jim and Miss Jean would think about it.

  CHAPTER 3

  “Heard about your little party at the Morning Glory last night,” Daniel Stone said when Pride and Will walked into his office over the jail. There was another man standing near the window. He said howdy to Pride and gave Will a nod. “I suppose you’re gonna tell me what that was all about,” Stone
continued.

  “Ain’t much to report,” Pride drawled. “Old man, Luther Gamble, and his two sons came in to register a complaint about Judge Parker hangin’ his youngest boy today. I reckon they weren’t up to snuff on the proper way to complain. But with the help of my friend, here, we were able to give ’em what they came for, and the issue got settled to everybody’s satisfaction.”

  Stone glanced at the man standing by the window, and they both shook their heads incredulously. Back at Pride then, he said, “You’re gonna have to do some paperwork on that little shindig. Gamble and his boys are wanted in Kansas, and we’ll have to let them know they’re dead.” He shifted his gaze to Will. “Who’s this you got with you?”

  “This here is Will Tanner,” Pride announced grandly. “And if it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t have the pleasure of my company this mornin’. Will, this is Marshal Daniel Stone. The feller by the window with the sour look on his face is Deputy Ed Pine.” Will returned a single nod from each man with one of his own. “Will is thinkin’ about pinnin’ on a deputy’s badge if you’re interested, and I wanna say right off that he’s damn-sure qualified.” He went on then to relate the details of the action that took place in the saloon the night before, emphasizing Will’s quickness and accuracy with a handgun. “When those three buzzards pulled their guns out, everybody in the saloon ran for cover except him. And he saw it his duty to help an officer of the law in trouble,” Pride said, and when he had finished, he was gratified to see that Stone definitely looked interested.

  “Well, Mr. Tanner,” Stone addressed him. “Looks like we owe you our thanks.” He cocked an eye in Pride’s direction. “Although I don’t know if it speaks well for your record by saving Fletcher Pride’s neck. We’ve been trying to get rid of him for eight years.”

  “Nine years,” Pride corrected him, “come this fall.”

  “Seems longer,” Stone deadpanned. Back to Will, he began his questioning. “Have you got a good horse?”

  “Yes, sir,” Will answered. “I’m ridin’ a buckskin gelding, little over four years old, and I’ve got a sorrel packhorse, maybe a little older.”

  “Pride says you’re pretty good with that .44 you’re wearing. I expect you’ve got a decent rifle, too.”

  “Yes, sir,” Will replied, “a Winchester 73.”

  Stone studied the young man carefully. He liked what he saw. Tall and lean, yet it appeared to be a powerful lean, and he had already been tested in the altercation at the saloon. Since he had just lost two deputies recently, he needed replacements, but he thought it fair to warn Will of the dangers involved. “If I hire you, you’ll be working almost all the time in Indian Territory, and that’s not a particularly healthy country for deputy marshals. Pride can tell you that, if he hasn’t already. How well do you know that country?”

  “Some,” Will said.

  “Well, I expect you’ll get to know it better, if you last long enough,” Stone said, aiming not to sugarcoat it. He wanted to know before he made a final decision if Will was inclined to be cautious. He had the look of a man with quiet confidence. Stone hoped he had a brain under that sandy hair. Well, we’ll soon find out, he thought. “All right, you’re hired,” he said. “I’m gonna assign you to work with Pride, so you can get a little training on the job. You can go along with him as a posseman, but you’ll get a deputy’s pay. That’s fair, ain’t it?”

  “I reckon so,” Will replied, surprised that there wasn’t more to the process. “Ain’t there no swearin’ in, or somethin’ like that?”

  “No, I’m sure you know what the job is. I’ll tell Judge Parker I’ve hired you, and he’ll officially commission you as a U.S. Deputy Marshal. So I’ll just say welcome to the service. I hope it suits you and you suit the service.” He offered his hand, and after they shook on it, Ed Pine stepped forward to shake hands as well. Stone continued. “Pride can fill you in on all the procedures and responsibilities, as well as the pay schedule for mileage to and from picking up prisoners. All you need now is a badge.” He winked at Ed Pine, still standing by his desk, and opened his desk drawer. “I oughta have two or three in here.” Picking out the one he wanted, he held it out to Will. “This is a badge that was worn by a deputy that ain’t with us no more.” Then he pretended to notice something on it after Will took it in his hand. “Whoa,” he said, “I didn’t clean this one up very well. I’ll get you another one.”

  Puzzled, Will looked at the badge and saw at once what Stone was referring to. It was rather obvious. The tip of the badge had flecks of red on it resembling dried blood. “This one’ll do,” he said, and scratched the flecks off with his fingernail. “Looks like the last feller that wore it must have been paintin’ somethin’ red.”

  “Damn,” Stone swore, disappointed. Then he and the other two deputies had a good laugh at the unsuccessful attempt to jape the newcomer.

  That concluded his official hiring as a deputy marshal. The job was a simple one, catch lawbreakers and bring them to Judge Parker’s court to be tried by whatever means necessary. In the wide and wild Oklahoma Indian Territory, his authority would be unlimited.

  Once the hiring was done, Stone wasted no time before handing them their first assignment. “This oughta be a good training job for our new man,” he said. “We just got word from the Texas Rangers on a bad bunch coming our way. They’ve been chasing a bank robber and murderer named Max Tarbow. There’s four more of them in his gang, and they’ve been robbing banks in small towns for the past two weeks down there. They’re pretty sure they’ve headed up into Indian Territory, because they lost them near Denison on the Red River. So they most likely followed the Seminole Trail, or the Potawatomi Trail up into the Nations.”

  “They sure as shootin’ ain’t the first outlaws to use those trails,” Pride remarked. “At least we know where to start lookin’.”

  “Mind you watch yourselves, Fletcher,” Stone warned. “The word I got from Texas was these boys are a mean bunch. They left a couple of people dead in one of those banks. All I can tell you is the leader is Max Tarbow. His brother, Billy, rides with him, and I don’t know the names of the other three.”

  “You know me, Dan,” Pride said. “I’m always careful. I’ll round up Charlie Tate, and we’ll get a wagon loaded up with supplies and maybe pull outta here tomorrow.”

  “Good hunting,” Stone said as they left his office.

  “Who’s Charlie Tate?” Will asked when they got outside.

  “A cook,” Pride replied.

  “What do we need with a cook?”

  “We gotta eat,” Pride said. “There ain’t no tellin’ how long it’s gonna take to run this Tarbow bunch to ground.” He could see the question in Will’s face. “You didn’t think I was plannin’ to hunt game and live off the land, didja?”

  “I reckon I did,” Will said. “I didn’t think you’d wanna be slowed down by a wagon.”

  “We won’t be wastin’ time tryin’ to run down antelope or deer. This is a huntin’ trip, all right, but not that kind.” He changed the subject abruptly. “Where are you stayin’ here in town?”

  “Last night, I slept in Vern Tuttle’s hay barn,” Will said. “Reckon I can stay there tonight.”

  “You’re gonna need to find you a more permanent place here in Fort Smith. I’ll take you over to Ruth Bennett’s boardin’house. That’s where I stay, and I know for a fact Ruth’s got a vacant room, right next to mine. Old man, Heck Tilden, lived in that room for a good while after his wife died, and now he’s dead. So I know she’s lookin’ to rent that room out.”

  “Sounds just right for me,” Will said, thinking about the failed “bloody” badge trick. Might as well take a room some old man just died in.

  “She sets a fine table, too,” Pride boasted. “You can’t get no better food anywhere in town.”

  “That right?” Will asked. “How come you take supper at the Mornin’ Glory?”

  “Ruth don’t serve no whiskey,” Pride said, “and I need it for my dige
stion. How much did Vern Tuttle charge to keep your horses?”

  “Fifty cents each, and a quarter for grain,” Will said.

  “We’ll fix that, too. He can give you the same price he charges me, ’cause it’s on a more permanent rate.”

  * * *

  “This is the young feller I was tellin’ you about,” Pride said to Ruth Bennett. “He’d like to take a look at that room next to mine.”

  “Will Tanner, ma’am,” he introduced himself, since Pride neglected to.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Tanner,” she said with a pleasant smile. “I see you’re already wearing a star.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Come on, and we’ll go upstairs to look at the room,” she said. “Like Mr. Pride said, it’s right down the hall from his room. We hated to lose Mr. Tilden. He was such a kind old gentleman. There are still a few of his things in the room. He didn’t have any family to give them to, but we’ll get them out if you decide you’re gonna stay with us. Most of our guests are older. It would be nice to have a younger guest.”

  It didn’t take Will but a few moments to decide to take the room. It was a sizable room with a large window facing the street, and the rate she offered was more reasonable than he had anticipated. She explained that she gave Pride a reduced rate because there were so many days when he was not in town, and that meant less work to maintain the room. She gave Will the same rate. Back downstairs, she showed him the washroom, a small room at the end of the back porch with a pump, basin, and tub. In the event he wanted to take a bath, she said, he could heat some water on the stove. Will was well satisfied. The arrangement was certainly high-class.

  “Will you be taking supper with us tonight, Mr. Tanner?” she asked when she showed him the dining room. “I’m having pork chops, mashed potatoes, string beans, and fresh-baked biscuits.”

  “Yes, ma’am, count me in,” Will said at once. “And please, call me Will.”

  “That sounds mighty good,” Pride declared. “You can count me in, too.”