The Devil's Boneyard Page 7

  Ben nodded slowly while thinking to himself, I wonder if I look as stupid as he evidently thinks I am. To Walt, he said, “That’s askin’ a lot for you to take all that time and trouble to help me arrest two men.”

  “Not at all,” Walt insisted. “I can find out in a few minutes if those two men are at the church, and it would take you a helluva lot longer, if you found out at all. Might as well save you the time and trouble.”

  “I would like to look around in town,” Ben told him. “I was gonna ride out to the church in the mornin’, though, before I covered the rest of town. If you’re sure you wanna do that, it would save me some time.”

  “I’ll be able to let you know first thing in the mornin’,” Walt said. “I ain’t got nothin’ to do in town tonight. Wayne will be here to watch the town, and I’ll be back before too much trouble can get started.”

  “All right, then,” Ben said. “I’ll have to tell my captain how cooperative you’ve been.” Walt shrugged and gave him a big smile. It didn’t take anything more to convince Ben that he was dealing with a sheriff who was as crooked as a snake. What amazed him was the fact that Walt expected him to believe him. No doubt he was thinking about how much of that twenty-two thousand dollars that was stolen from the Giddings bank these two were in possession of. Ben was tempted to ask him if Ormond and Pete were at the church when he dropped in, why would they wait there to be arrested the next day? But he decided to hold such logical questions and agreed, at Walt’s suggestion, to meet him for breakfast at the hotel dining room in the morning.

  They parted company then, with Walt saying he didn’t want to wait any later to make his four-mile ride to the church. Since it was still early, Ben stayed to have one last cup of coffee before retiring to the stable for the night. As he sat there, he replayed his wild day in his mind. He would have been concerned that the men he chased were even now getting farther and farther away, but he was convinced they were at the church. And he intended to confirm that after breakfast the next morning. He shook his head when he thought about Sheriff Walt Murphy. All I wanted to do was get my damn horse back and go home to Buzzard’s Bluff, he thought. It would have been as simple as that if he was working with an honest sheriff.

  * * *

  “Somebody’s comin’ up the path from the road,” Riley Best called back through the open door of the church. He had not bothered to go any farther than the front steps of the building to answer a call from Mother Nature. And the arrival of a lone man on a horse was not concern enough for him to rush his business. After a few seconds more, he called back again. “It’s Walt Murphy.” That was enough to generate some interest among those inside, but not enough to stop the card game, or the drinking party two of the men were engaged in with Dora and Pauline. Since it was unusual for the sheriff to call on them this late in the evening, Reuben Drum got up from the table he had been seated at and walked outside to meet him.

  “Walt,” Reuben greeted the sheriff when he pulled up in front of the church and stepped down from the saddle. “You’re out visitin’ kinda late, ain’tcha? What’s up?”

  “Evenin’, Reuben,” Walt responded. “I thought there’s somethin’ you might be interested to know, so I thought I’d ride out tonight. I brought a bottle with me to make the talkin’ easier.”

  “Well, in that case, come on in,” Reuben invited.

  Walt looped his reins around the end of one of the steps. “Riley,” he acknowledged as he walked past him and followed Reuben inside. Riley Best had been holed up at the church long enough for Walt to think of him as more or less a permanent resident, along with Reuben’s son, Lester. Inside, he received simple nods of greeting from all but two of the current occupants, who in contrast to the others, became wary and nervous. “I see you’ve got two new faces since I was last out here,” Walt noted. “That’s the reason I thought I’d best give you a warnin’.” The two new faces reacted to his statement with looks of immediate preparation to resist arrest.

  “Ain’t no need to get nervous, boys,” Reuben said. “Sheriff ain’t rode out here tonight to arrest nobody. Ain’t that right, Walt?”

  “That’s a fact,” Walt replied. “I came out here to tell you a Texas Ranger hit town today, lookin’ for you two fellers. Now, don’t go gettin’ nervous,” he said as Pete and Ormond did just that. “I told him you hadn’t showed up in town, and I expected that you didn’t stop here ’cause you most likely were tryin’ to get to Dallas as fast as you could. No, he don’t know about the church,” Walt lied in answer to Reuben’s question. “And he ain’t gonna find out about it from me. There’s a notice out from Austin about some outlaws holdin’ up a bank in Giddings, and I expect that Ranger’s took up a notion it was you two fellers. But I checked with Austin and they said it was three fellers that held up the bank.”

  Convinced by then that the sheriff was not there to arrest them, Ormond asked, “Why would a Texas Ranger be after me and Pete? Why would he have any idea we had anything to do with a bank holdup?”

  “I don’t know,” Walt answered. “He told me he was trailin’ you from Buzzard’s Bluff.”

  “Buzzard’s Bluff?” Ormond responded, then hesitated a couple of seconds before blurting, “Ben Savage.” He looked at Pete, and Pete nodded slowly in response. Looking back at Walt then, he asked, “Big feller?” Before Walt could reply, Ormond continued. “Ben Savage ain’t no Ranger. He used to be one. He owns a saloon in Buzzard’s Bluff, now and he shot my brother down. We oughta be the ones chasin’ him, not the other way around. Ain’t that right, Pete?” Pete said that it was. “It got too hot for us in Buzzard’s Bluff, so we cut out. Ben Savage ain’t got no reason to be chasin’ us. We sure as hell ain’t robbed no bank.”

  “No need to worry about him,” Walt assured Ormond. “I expect he’ll be gone from here in the mornin’. I told him you two musta passed right on through town. He took a look around for you. I sent him over to the Reservation, told him if you were in town, you’d most likely be at the Hog’s Breath.” He paused to shake his head and laugh.

  “He run into Peewee?” Riley asked.

  “Yeah, he did,” Walt answered, “and I can see why you don’t want him to catch up with you. He caved Peewee’s ribs in and liked to broke his cheekbone, laid ol’ Peewee out like an ox shot in the head.”

  “I reckon we shoulda took care of him before we left Buzzard’s Bluff,” Ormond said to Pete. “We didn’t have no idea he’d come lookin’ for us.”

  “You think we oughta go find him?” Pete asked, thinking that maybe Ormond had lost his mind, but Walt answered him before Ormond could.

  “Ain’t no need to,” Walt told him. “I pretty much sent him on his way to Dallas. I don’t want him snoopin’ around in my town.”

  CHAPTER 6

  “I was right,” Walt Murphy announced when he came into the hotel dining room in the morning to find Ben already sitting at a table there. “Sorry to disappoint you, but they ain’t at the church. I didn’t really expect ’em to be there. Ol’ Drum knows I don’t want any bank robbers hidin’ out this close to town.”

  “You want breakfast, Sheriff?” Mary Jane Reynolds asked.

  “I sure do, honey,” Walt answered and sat down at the table. “What you plannin’ on doin’ now?” he asked Ben.

  “I figured I’d still look around town a little bit before I move on,” Ben answered, “maybe look around outside of town to see if I can find a campsite. If I do, I might pick up a trail to follow again.”

  “Well, good luck to ya,” Walt said. “I expect those boys you’re chasin’ are on their way to Dallas.”

  “Thanks,” Ben said and got up to leave. “And thanks again for your help.”

  “Glad to help,” Walt replied, smiling as he watched the big Ranger walk away.

  “You look like you’re in a good mood this morning,” Mary Jane said as she placed a cup of coffee before him.

  “You can say that again, sweetheart,” Walt replied. “I feel like it’s gonna be
a good day.” He thought about his visit to Reuben Drum the night just passed. When he had walked into the church, his badge fully on display, several of the men around the long table on the side of the room had paid very little attention when they saw him. Two of them caught his eye at once, however. After he had talked to them about the bank robbery, he asked Reuben who they were. Reuben had told him they were a couple of horse thieves and nothing more. He had to smile when he thought about it, a couple of horse thieves with probably about fourteen thousand dollars from the bank in Giddings. That would be about what they were carrying after the three-way split with the third man. “Tell ’em not to worry about it,” he had said to Reuben. “There’s a Texas Ranger on their trail, but he don’t know nothin’ about the church.” As far as he could tell, Reuben had taken his word for it.

  His thoughts were interrupted for a moment when Mary Jane brought his breakfast but were soon back on the money the two outlaws were carrying. Pete Russell and Ormond Hazzard were their names, according to Reuben. The thoughts occupying his mind now were what he was going to do about that money. He could tell Reuben about it, and they could split it. About seven thousand each wasn’t a bad payday, but it wasn’t as nice as keeping the whole thing for himself. He would have to come up with some story to get Pete and Ormond away from the church. That shouldn’t be too hard, he thought and smiled again when he thought of the story he had made up for the Ranger. He chuckled before he caught himself, causing Mary Jane to turn toward him and he waved her away. I hope he gives up pretty soon and heads on out to Dallas or somewhere, he thought.

  * * *

  Hardly ready to leave Waco, Ben Savage rode across the bridge to the east bank of the Brazos River. He was leading his packhorse because he had no intention of returning to Waco once he finished what he came to do. Ordinarily, he would have intentions to arrest the two outlaws and take them to the Waco jail to be held for transport by a deputy marshal or put on trial there in Waco. It would be simple enough to transport them to Austin on the train, but in this case, he could not trust the sheriff to hold the prisoners. The question of Deputy Wayne Price came to mind and whether or not he could be trusted. Thinking back, he recalled how Walt had sent his deputy back to the Hog’s Breath before telling him about the bank money. Wayne might be unaware of the sheriff’s arrangement with Drum, and consequently, the sheriff didn’t want him to know about the bank money. It was best not to take a chance, so Ben would more likely have to transport them back to Buzzard’s Bluff to await a jail wagon from Austin. First thing, he reminded himself, is to capture them.

  He followed the road past several small buildings and shacks for about a mile before he left all signs of civilization. But the road was well traveled, to judge by the tracks of hoofprints and wagon wheels. He was sure he had traveled nearly four miles when he saw a line of trees that indicated a sizable stream or creek ahead. There, through the trees, he spotted the church. Sitting on a little rise, it was easily seen from the road. A sizeable structure, complete with steeple, but no cross, it had been no doubt situated so it stood like a beacon to those who came to worship. Too bad, he thought, it just calls out to the wicked now. He decided he was too close to continue on the road, so he turned the roan toward a low line of hills to the north. He continued on that line until he thought he was far enough past the church to cut back to the west to come up behind the church.

  He found that by riding along the creek bank, he could get fairly close to the church without being seen. From what he had learned about the notorious hideout, the occupants were not likely to have lookouts posted. When he reached a point about fifty yards from the back of the church, he dismounted and tied his horses in the trees by the creek. He could see no one outside around the church or near the small barn, corral, and outhouse. He made his way closer on foot until he came to a small group of horses grazing near the creek. Anxious now, he moved up closer to the edge of the tree line to get a better look at all the horses. There! he thought when he started to count them, for he spotted the dun gelding he searched for. At almost the same instant, the horse raised its head and nickered, its ears pricked and alert. Ben whistled softly and Cousin came to him at once. Cecil Howard’s Morgan followed the dun, since it was accustomed to following it now.

  The horse came to Ben in the edge of the trees, displaying its excitement at seeing him again. There was a brief reunion between horse and master as Ben hugged Cousin’s neck and stroked his face. He was forced to share his affection when the Morgan pushed his nose in for attention as well. The reunion lasted for a few minutes before Ben reminded himself that he had a couple of outlaws to deal with. He paused to count the rest of the horses in an effort to guess how many riders might be inside the building. Fifteen horses were all he could see. Allowing for the fact that one of them was the packhorse Pete and Ormond had taken, that left fourteen. He had no idea how many horses belonged to Reuben Drum and how many were packhorses. He could safely assume there might be as many as eight men inside, in addition to the two he was after. It would be extremely risky for him to attempt any kind of surprise arrest when he wasn’t sure how many he would be dealing with. And that was not taking into account if there were women in there who wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in his back. While he tried to determine what he should do, he decided to get his saddle back on Cousin where it belonged.

  Luckily, the two horse thieves had left the bridles on the horses, making Ben’s job of handling them a little easier. He led both horses back to the spot where he had left the roan and his packhorse. He tied the Morgan’s reins to a tree limb while he went about the business of getting his bridle and saddle off the roan and onto Cousin.

  With his major goal accomplished, he felt tempted to turn around and go home and leave the two outlaws to enjoy the bank’s money. “Why the hell didn’t you buck that son of a gun off, instead of totin’ him all the way up here?” he lectured Cousin. Done with wishful thinking, he had to now figure out how to arrest the two he chased without getting shot by however many there were in that church. While he tried to think, his gaze fell on the corral and lingered there for a moment. It occurred to him that the corral was empty with the gate open. They had let all their horses out to graze. It stood to reason that before dark they would drive the horses back in the corral for the night. At that time, they were going to discover that two of the horses were missing. That was going to be his best chance of moving on Pete and Ormond, for they would be more concerned than anyone else, since the missing horses were theirs.

  The problem that concerned him now was the time of day. It was still morning, so he was going to have to wait out the day until it was time to put the horses away that evening. There was nothing else to do, so he resigned himself to accept that fact. If he had run them down in a saloon in town, he could have gone in relying on the element of surprise to capture both men. In this case, however, he had to figure every man in there was his enemy and he couldn’t cover all of them by himself. His plan to attempt to separate Pete and Ormond from the others was dependent upon a lot of luck, but it was the best he could come up with. So, he moved his horses farther back up the creek to make sure they weren’t discovered when the search for the missing horses got underway. With the rest of the day to kill, he took his time to find what he considered to be the best spot to tie them. Then he made his way back closer to the church to pick a spot to wait where he could watch any activity around the building.

  As the day dragged by, there was very little activity outside the church. Once in a while, one of the women who resided there would come out the back door and take advantage of the outhouse. He paid more attention whenever a man appeared, usually stopping short of the outhouse before relieving himself. He strived to remember them, hoping to get an accurate count of his potential enemies. He figured, for the length of time he would be waiting, everyone in the church should have to answer nature’s call at least once. Occasionally, an older woman, obviously the cook, would come out to the pump to fill a buck
et with water, and once she opened the back door to throw a pan of dirty water out. By the end of the day, he had a count of ten men, counting Pete Russell and Ormond Hazzard. One of those, he figured, might be Reuben Drum. He had no way of telling for sure. In addition, he counted three women, including the cook.

  There was one more visitor to show up in the middle of the day. This one, Ben recognized right away. “Sheriff Walt Murphy,” he murmured softly, as he watched him ride up to the front door of the church. Ben couldn’t help admiring the sheriff’s horse, a fine-looking buckskin, befitting his position as the sheriff of Waco. He was coming to make sure he hadn’t shown up there that morning, Ben figured. No doubt he assured Pete and Ormond that nobody would know they were there and invited them to stay as long as they wanted. If there was any question about whether or not Walt came with intentions to arrest the two men for bank robbery, it was answered when after about an hour, Walt came back out and rode away. That means they’re staying for a while, Ben thought. I’ll bet he never mentioned the bank money.

  When the sun finally completed most of its journey across the low hills to the west, he made a quick trip back to the horses and got some jerky out of his saddlebags to tease his stomach with. Back to his lookout spot, he saw two men come out of the church and head toward the horses. Must be suppertime, he thought, although his empty stomach had already alerted him to that possibility. Shouldn’t be long now.

  * * *

  “We got a couple of horses missin’,” Slim Dickens reported to Reuben Drum when he came back into the church.