Texas Iron (9 page)

Suddenly, he had an overwhelming urge for a drink.

Jubal saw the seven men walking back and knew that they were after Sam. He didn’t have time to warn Sam, or to find Evan.
He was just going to have to watch and wait, and be ready.

Evan and Serena were in the hardware store, and Serena was talking to the owner, telling him what Evan had told Ed Collins.
Evan walked to the front window and looked out from behind the farm tools that hung there. He saw Jubal sitting in a chair
across and up the street, and he seemed to be watching something.

“Serena.”

She turned and said, “What is it?”

“Stay here,” Evan said, putting his hand on his gun and moving toward the door.

“Evan, what is it?”

He turned, pointed a finger at her and said forcefully, “Stay in here. Mr. Norris, keep her here!”

Norris, the owner of the store, knew trouble when he saw it, and nodded.

“Just stay here, Miss Miller,” he said. “Whatever happens in the street is better off happening with you in here.”

They were about a hundred yards from the telegraph office when Gear called a halt to their progress.

“Tobin, take two men and cross over to the other side of the street, across from the telegraph office.”

“All right.” Tobin called two names and the three of them hurried ahead.

“Earl, you and Roberts walk past the telegraph office and find some cover. When he comes out we’ll catch him in the crossfire.”

“Right.”

Murray and Roberts moved on ahead.

“Gary, you and I will set up on this side of the office.”

“You sure this is what Chuck wants done, Mike?” Gary asked.

“Believe me, Gary,” Mike Gear said, “this is what’s best for everyone.”

Evan came out of the hardware store and looked down the block. Further down, on his side, he saw the men who appeared to be
splitting up. He counted as they did, making them out to be seven.

After they had all moved into the side street he stepped out into the open, trying to catch Jubal’s attention. Finally, Jubal
looked over at him, waved, and pointed. Evan nodded, and waved at Jubal to join him.

Jubal left his chair and trotted across the street.

“What’s going on?” Evan asked.

“Sam’s in the telegraph office, down that street,” Jubal said. “I don’t know who those men are, but they look like their getting
ready to bushwack him.”

“They work for Burkett.”

“And they’re gonna kill Sam!”

“Not if we can help it,” Evan said. “Jubal, try and cross over without being seen, and I’ll be on this side. We’ll try to
work our way down to the telegraph office. When Sam comes out we’re going to have to start shooting first. It’s the only way
to warn him. Got it?”

“I understand.”

“And if we’re going to shoot,” Evan added, putting his hand on Jubal’s shoulder, “we might as well shoot to kill.”

“All right.”

“Have you ever killed a man?”

Jubal looked at Evan. “No, but this looks like a good time to start.”

“To save your brother’s life,” Evan said, “it’s the best time.”

Coffin could see everything from in front of the saloon, where he stood with a beer. He saw the seven men split up and work
their way into the side street. He saw Evan and Jubal come together and then work their way to that same side street.

Without even being told, Coffin knew that Sam McCall was already somewhere on that street, and that he was probably the focal
point of all this activity.

He could even see McCall’s dark cloud, just hovering up there over that street, getting ready to rain down its dose of trouble.

This, he thought, sure had the makings of something interesting.

Chapter Ten

Sam waited while the clerk sent his telegram. It had taken him a few moments to compose a message, saying as much as he could
in as few words as he could. Basically, he asked his friend Murdock for the name of a marshal who might be willing to come
to Vengeance Creek, in southern Texas, to mediate a dispute. Sam knew that Murdock had once mediated a dispute, and that was
what gave him the idea. Under those circumstances they’d be able to get a marshal here without having to produce too much
evidence. Maybe the presence of a federal marshal would bring the truth to the surface.

“All right, sir,” the clerk said. “It’s been acknowledged as received.”

Sam had already paid the man for the message, so he simply thanked him.

“I have a room at the hotel. Would you bring over the reply as soon as it comes in?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks again.”

The clerk nodded, and Sam turned and walked to the door. He was about three steps from it when he stopped short. He remembered
the men he had seen riding by as he was entering the office, six or seven of them. It was odd for that many men to ride into
a town at one time unless they had a job to do.

He moved to his left so that he could look out the window of the office. The window was dusty and he had to squint to try
to see through it. He thought he saw a coupleof men across the street in a doorway, but he had no way of knowing if they were
some of the same men.

He chose to believe that they were, and acted accordingly.

“What’s taking him so long?” Gary asked.

“I don’t know,” Gear said. He caught Tobin’s attention and tried to ask the same question with sign language, but Tobin shrugged.

“I don’t like this,” Gear said. “He’s caught on.”

“How?”

“How has he stayed alive this long?” Gear asked. He caught Tobin’s attention then and waved his gun frantically.

Tobin and his men started firing.

The first volley of shots shattered the dusty plate glass window, and suddenly everything was clear.

“Down!” Sam shouted to the clerk as he threw himself to the floor.

Lead continued to rain on the office, chewing large chunks from the desk and the wall, and shattering glass and other breakables.

Sam had his gun in his hand, but there was no way he could lift his head until there was a lull in the firing—if there was.
If there were six or seven men out there they could take turns firing and never let up.

He scrambled across the floor so that he was beneath the shattered window. When his chance came he was going to have to seize
it immediately, for it might be the only one he got.

“Jesus,” Jubal said to himself, “they’re not waiting—”

“Fire!” Evan shouted from across the street.

They could both see the men who were doing the firing, three of them across from the office. They started firing at them,
and when the men became aware of the fact thatthey were being fired at, they stopped and threw themselves to the ground.

Sam McCall had heard gunfire for most of his life. For the past ten seconds or so someone had been firing into the office,
but suddenly he heard other guns join in, and then the lead stopped pouring in on him. He risked a look and saw that the men
across the street were being fired upon. He did not join the fray, but rather remained content to wait until he had something—or
someone’to fire at. Whoever was firing now’most likely Evan and Jubal—were keeping the men pinned down.

Sam moved over to the door and cautiously stuck his head out. Suddenly, lead came in on him from left and right, and it was
clear that a crossfire had been set up to ambush him. His own caution had saved him from walking right into it, and now his
brothers were involved.

There had to be six or seven adversaries, but with his brothers on his side, Sam felt as if the sides were almost even.

He had to get out into the street in order to do any good.

“Damn!” Evan said.

Now there were two men to either side of the office and they were firing, keeping Sam pinned inside. He and Jubal had only
their six-shooters with them, not having had time to get rifles. Evan paused to load, and heard Jubal fire his last two shots.
Suddenly it was quiet as both sides took stock of the situation.

The McCalls, to Evan’s thinking, were three guns against seven—and some of the men had rifles, so that increased the odds
against them.

Evan caught Jubal’s attention and tried to convey his intentions with an age-old method—sign language. He wanted Jubal to
come across to his side, and tried to tell his brother to start moving when he started firing.

Evan had taken cover behind some crates, and now helooked over them and began to fire. Immediately Jubal ran across the street,
firing to cover himself as he did so.

When Jubal was on his side they both ducked down behind the crates. They could still hear gunfire, and apparently Sam was
trading shots now.

“Jubal, a couple of blocks down, there’s a gunsmith’s shop. The man’s name is Miller. Run back there, tell him who you are,
and get us a couple of rifles.”

“Good thinking.”

“Reload and leave me your gun. I’ll try and keep them from rushing Sam until you get back.”

Jubal reloaded his gun and handed it to Evan.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll be right back.”

Sam abandoned the idea of moving outside the office. He’d be much too vulnerable out there. Of course, remaining in here had
its problems, too. Eventually they might get brave enough to rush him. Sam was going to have to count on his brothers doing
something out there that would prevent that.

“W-what’s going on?”

The clerk’s voice came from behind the counter.

“Just stay down,” Sam said. “It’ll be over in no time.”

He hoped.

This was not going the way it had been planned, Mike Gear thought. Still, even if McCall’s brother were at the other end of
the street, they were still outnumbered.

“What are we gonna do?” Gary asked.

“Tobin and his men are gonna have to rush him,” Gear said. “We’ll cover them.”

Gear tried to convey this to Tobin, across the street, but Tobin either couldn’t or wouldn’t understand.

“Damn it!” Gear said. He stood up and shouted, “Rush him!”

Gear felt the slug punch him in the back, and then he was falling forward…

“Jesus,” Gary said, looking around.

“Here!” Jubal said, handing Evan a rifle. “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing,” Evan said. “I think they’re trying to make up their minds what do to.”

“Look,” Jubal said.

A man on the other side of the street, between them and the telegraph office, stood up and shouted across the street, “Rush
him!”

“They’re gonna rush him!” Jubal said.

“Not if we can help it.”

Evan stood up, raised the rifle and fired.

After that, everyone started firing.…

Sam was looking out the door when he saw the three men across the street stand up and prepare to rush him. He fired once,
and one of the men was pushed back by the impact of the bullet. The other two seemed uncertain about what to do next.

Sam chose that moment to step out of the store.

“He’s coming out,” Jubal said.

“Let’s cover him!”

“He’s comin’ out,” one of the men with Earl Murray said.

“What do we do?”

Murray had seen Gear go down, and one of the men with Tobin.

“Fire, damn it,” he said, “fire!”

Sam ducked down behind a horse trough and heard the lead slapping into the wood from across the street. He felt something
tug at his foot, and when he looked down hesaw that a bullet had sheared off his left bootheel. The bullet had come from his
right. If he turned that way he’d be leaving himself vulnerable from the left, but he decided to leave his back to his brothers.

When he turned he saw two men standing up preparing to fire at him. He fired once, catching one man high in the chest. When
he move his gun to fire at the second man, he was already falling forward. He couldn’t explain that, but he didn’t have time
to ponder it.

When he turned left he saw both his brothers running toward him. Evan was across the street, and Jubal was running across
to his side.…

“Let’s move!” Evan said. “You cross over.”

“Right.”

Evan ran along the boardwalk toward the two remaining

Evan ran along the boardwalk toward the two remaining men across from the telegraph office. Both men stood up to face him.
Evan had the rifle in his left hand and his handgun in his right. He fired his pistol, the bullet striking one man in the
stomach. When he moved to fire at the second man, he was already falling forward.

He turned and looked across the street.…

As Jubal approached the last man he turned on him, raising his gun. Jubal fired at the same time the man did. His bullet hit
the man in the throat, while the man’s bullet tugged at his sleeve. Jubal kept moving until he reached the body. He leaned
over both men and saw that they were both dead. He stood up and waved to Evan across the street.

Evan checked the three men and found that they were all dead, one having been shot in the back. He stood up, waved to Jubal
across the street, and then looked for Sam. Sam McCall was across the street checking on the other two men.

Sam checked both men and saw that one of them had been shot in the back. He couldn’t figure that. They were both dead, though,
so he turned to check on his brothers. He saw Evan across the street and waved.

The McCall brothers came together in front of the telegraph office.

“Looks like you boys got here just in time,” Sam said.

“Jubal spotted it,” Evan said.

“Just by accident,” Jubal said.

“Thanks, Jube.” Sam put his hand behind his younger brother’s neck. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

“They all dead?” Sam asked.

“All of ’em,” Jubal said.

“You know, there’s something funny about one of the men across the street,” Evan said.

“What?” Sam asked.

“He was shot in the back.”

Sam looked at his brother.

“You know, one of the others was shot in the back, too.”

“One of those two was shot in the back,” Jubal said, pointing behind him, “but Evan shot that one.”

“Who shot the other two in the back?” Evan asked.

“I don’t know,” Sam said, “but I think someone else might have some questions for us.”

“Who?” Evan asked.

Sam pointed behind his brothers, and they turned and saw Sheriff Kelly hurrying toward them.

Coffin saw the sheriff and slipped out of sight, into an alley. It was the same alley he had used to slip up behind the bushwackers.
He paused a moment to eject the two spent shells from his .45 and lay in two live shells.

He wasn’t all that sure why he had decided to help the McCalls, unless it was to keep Sam McCall alive until…

He retraced his steps down the alley. He had left a beer on the bar in the saloon.

Sam sat in a chair in the sheriff’s office, picking at the bottom of his left boot, which now had no heel.

In two other chairs sat Evan and Jubal. All of their rifles and pistols were on the sheriff’s desk.

The sheriff was seated behind his desk, wearing a hangdog expression.

“You know, this is a hell of a mess,” Sheriff Kelly said, shaking his head.

“Not of our making,” Evan said.

“No? Then whose?”

“Why don’t you talk to Lincoln Burkett?”

“Mr. Burkett? Why should I talk to him?”

“Those were his men, weren’t they?”

“Maybe, but that don’t mean that he was involved.”

“It doesn’t mean he wasn’t, either,” Evan said. “I think you should talk to the man. Hell, we’ll even go with you, if you
like.”

The sheriff bristled.

“I don’t need help doing my job.”

“You could have fooled us,” Sam said.

“Look, McCall,” he said, speaking to Sam, “if anyone’s to blame for this it’s you.”

“Me?”

“You and your reputation, you invite things like this to happen.”

“I was minding my own business, Sheriff, sending a telegram. You tell me how I invited this.”

“Come on, you know how many men would like to be the man who killed Sam McCall.”

“Or the
seven
men who killed Sam McCall,” Jubal said. “You’re saying that seven men tried to bushwack my brother and it’s his fault?”

“He ought to leave town,” Kelly said, glumly. “You all should leave town.”

“Oh?” Evan said. “Are my brother Jubal and I inviting some sort of attack by being here, Sheriff?”

“We’re not leaving until we find out who killed our parents,” Jubal said.

Kelly stared at him.

“Your father killed your mother and then himself.”

“That’s what we hear,” Evan said, “but we’re not accepting that.”

“I think we should leave now,” Sam said. He stood up and took his gun off the desk, fitting it into his holster.

“I didn’t say you could have your gun,” Kelly said.

“You want to take it away from me again?” Sam asked. “It ain’t gonna be so easy this time.”

“Easy, Sam,” Evan said.

“You’re the one who said I invite these attacks,” Sam went on. “Well, if that’s the case, I’m not about to walk around unarmed.
Boys, pick up your guns.”

Jubal didn’t have to be told twice. He stood up, picked up his handgun, put it in his holster, and then took a rifle from
the desk.

“Sheriff,” Evan said, “my advice to you would be to talk to Burkett. Tell him his men missed this time. Maybe next time he
should send more.”

“I’m sure Mr. Burkett had nothing to do with this.”

“Well then maybe he’d appreciate a visit from you and the information that he’s got seven dead men.”

Evan picked up his guns and started for the door, followed closely by Sam and Jubal.

Before leaving Sam turned and said, “Much obliged for your understanding, Sheriff.”

From the sheriff’s office they went back to the hardware store, where Serena had waited all this time.

“At last!” she said when they entered. “I was so worried. Jubal, are you hurt?”