The Man with the Iron Badge (10 page)

Vail studied all three men.

“So, what, I smell and you don't wanna eat with me?” he asked.

“No, no, Leo,” Walker said, “that ain't what we mean at all.”

“What about Santino?” Ryan asked. “I don't want to eat with him.”

“Why not? Vail asked.

“He's pretty scary.”

“Don't let him hear you say that,” Walker said.

“Why not?” Vail asked. “He'd like it.”

“Why are we talkin' about eating?” Walker demanded. “When do we pull another job?”

“Don't tell me you went through all the money from the last bank,” Vail said.

“It wasn't that much,” Walker said, “especially not for us.”

“Are you complaining about your split?” Vail asked. “Maybe you should talk directly to Nate about that.”

“Oh, no, not me,” Walker said. He looked around the café they were sitting in, to see if anyone was listening, then lowered his voice. “I'm not about to give him a reason to kill me.”

“Well then, if you're not willing to stand beside what you say, don't say it. Got it?”

“I got it,” Walker said.

“You guys?”

“Yeah, we get it,” Ryan said, with Evans nodding.

“Then let's have some breakfast and stop talking about it,” Vail said.

 

Leo Vail ate his steak and eggs without looking at the other three, or talking to them. They chattered between themselves, but that was okay. Even though they made him feel like drawing his gun and killing them all.

He knew he was in good with Nate Starkweather and Santino. But these three could not know that. He was Starkweather's eyes and ears, and would keep him informed about his three hired men. Nate liked to know what people were saying behind his back.

Vail thought that he and Santino and Nate could have pulled a lot of the jobs they'd pulled without these three idiots, but Nate seemed to like keeping them around—though not too close. And it was true that their split was hardly enough, but they knew they were making more money with Nate Starkweather than they'd ever make without.

Vail had been putting his own money in the bank, which he knew was kind of ironic. But his split was usually more than the other three put together, and he banked most of it. Once he had enough . . . well, he'd decide what to do when that time came.

“What are you thinkin' about, Leo?” Walker asked.

“Nothin',” he said. “Shut up and eat.”

Clint and Starkweather were sitting in the hotel dining room when Sheriff Dockery came rushing in.

“Sorry I'm late,” he said, “but I got a telegram you're going to be interested in.”

A waiter came rushing over.

“Sheriff?”

“Did you two order?” he asked.

“Steak and eggs,” Starkweather said.

“The same,” Dockery told the waiter.

“What's in the telegram?” Starkweather asked. “Has someone seen the gang?”

“No,” Dockery said, “I got a telegram from Yuma.”

“The town, or the prison?” Clint asked.

“The prison,” Dockery said. “There's been an escape. Four men.”

“And?” Starkweather asked.

“I'm gonna go and help hunt them down,” he said. “I want you two to come with me.”

“But we're already hunting somebody,” Starkweather said. “Nate Starkweather.”

“One of the escapees was Herm Jessup.”

“Who's he?” Starkweather looked at Clint.

“Jessup's a killer Dock hunted down and put away back when he was a marshal.”

“Well, he can get up a posse and do it again,” Starkweather said. “We can't—”

“Is that badge just a joke?” Dockery asked Starkweather.

“What?”

“You are a sheriff, right?”

“Of course—”

“Well then, this is your duty, Sheriff,” Dockery said. “We've been recruited to help hunt these men down.”

“How many?” Clint asked.

“Four men,” Dockery said. “They escaped and took a guard with them.”

“And what happened to the guard?” Clint asked.

“Nobody knows,” Dockery said. “He's still missing.” He looked at Starkweather.

“If you refuse,” he said, “you'll have to take that badge off.”

“No,” Starkweather said, “I need to have this badge on when I find my—when I find Nate Starkweather.”

“That's fine,” Dockery said. “You can continue looking for him after we've put Jessup and his partners back in Yuma Prison.”

Clint looked at Starkweather and raised his eyebrows.

“You're either a lawman, or you're not,” he said. “Time to decide.”

Clint, Starkweather, and Sheriff Dockery rode south of Fenton City, heading for Yuma and Yuma Prison.

“If we're lucky, they headed south,” Dockery said.

“Does Jessup know you're the sheriff in Fenton City?” Clint asked.

“I don't know,” Dockery said. “He probably does.”

“Then he'd probably head this way, just to get his revenge.”

“They'd need guns,” Starkweather said.

“They have the guard's gun,” Clint said.

“Maybe they're not together,” Dockery said. “Maybe Jessup will come this way, but the others will go their own ways.”

“Not until they have guns and horses,” Clint said. “How many ranches and homesteads are between here and Yuma?”

“Quite a few,” Dockery said.

“We'll have to warn them along the way,” Clint said.

“I agree with Clint,” Dockery said. “They'll stay together until they have horses and guns.”

“And what about the guard?” Starkweather asked. “Maybe he'll slow them down.”

Dockery and Clint exchanged a glance.

“Okay, that was stupid,” Starkweather said. “The guard is dead, right?”

“Right,” Clint said.

“Okay,” Starkweather said.

“We're comin' up on the Simmons ranch,” Dockery said. “We better stop and warn them.”

 

“Why did you have to kill the guard?” Nick Masters asked.

“He lied to us about the horses,” Jessup said. “And we paid him. I wasn't about to let him get away with that.”

Jerry Foley said, “But now they'll be after us forever. We killed a guard.”

“He killed the guard,” Masters said.

“It don't matter who pulled the trigger,” Willy Castillo said. “They will be searching for all of us.”

“Damn it!” Foley said. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

Jessup turned to face the other three. They were all on foot, and Jessup had the gun.

“All we have to do is come to a ranch and outfit ourselves,” Jessup said. “Then, if you want, you can go back to prison.”

“Not me,” Castillo said. “I will go where you go.”

“And where is that, by the way?” Masters asked.

“To a town called Fenton City,” Jessup said. “I got an appointment with the sheriff there.”

“Why do you have an appointment with a sheriff?” Foley asked.

“Because when he was a marshal he put me in Yuma,” Jessup said.

“And you're gonna kill him?” Masters asked.

“Yeah.”

“Great,” Foley said, “he wants to kill another lawman. They'll never stop looking for us.”

“A guard is not a lawman,” Jessup said.

“Look,” Foley said, “I think I want to go my own way now.”

“Me, too,” Masters said.

“Well,” Jessup said, “I think I'm the one with the gun, and you two are not goin' anywhere until I say so. You wanna argue? Wait until we get some more guns. I don't mind standin' up to both of you.”

“Look, Jessup,” Masters said, “we're with ya. Don't lose your temper.”

Masters and Foley had seen on the inside what Jessup could do when he lost his temper.

“Yeah, Jessup,” Foley said. “We're with ya.”

Jessup stared at both of them, then looked away. Castillo had walked up ahead a ways and was now coming back.

“Whatawe got?” Jessup asked.

Masters and Foley knew they were going to have to be careful around Castillo and Jessup. Castillo towered over them at six-three, and Jessup was bigger than he was. Either one of them could have torn them to pieces with their bare hands. That Jessup had the guard's gun only meant he might kill them quicker.

“There's a house up ahead,” Castillo said. “A corral with some horses. A fallin' down barn. We ain't gonna get much except for maybe a coupla guns and run-down horses.”

“And some food,” Jessup said. “We don't have a choice. We already passed up the places that had too many hands, too many guns. We're gonna have to hit it.”

“There is a family livin' there,” Castillo said. “With children.”

“Too bad,” Jessup said. “Let's go.”

He started walking. Castillo went to follow but Masters grabbed his arm.

“We gotta kill kids?” he asked.

Castillo fixed him with a cold stare.

“We have to do whatever Jessup says,” the Mexican said.

“Yeah, but killin' kids,” Foley said. “Man, I wasn't even inside for murder, just some robberies. I was gonna get out in two years.”

Castillo poked him in the chest with a thick forefinger.

“You should have thought of that before you hitched your wagon to Jessup.”

“I—I just got excited, ya know?” Foley said. “Caught up in the idea of gettin' out.”

Castillo shrugged and started following in Jessup's footsteps.

Foley looked at Masters.

“I know what you mean,” Masters said. “I was gonna get out in three.”

“What do we do?” Foley asked. “If we kill kids, we'll hang when they catch us.”

“I guess we gotta make sure we don't get caught,” Masters said.

“We could walk the other way, Masters,” Foley said.

“Yeah, then we got the law and Jessup lookin' for us,” Masters said. “I'd rather just have the law.”

“He might kill us.”

“He got us out.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Look, Foley,” Masters said, “you wanna go, go. I'm stickin' with Jessup.”

Masters started walking, and after a few deep breaths, Foley followed.

“Shit!” Dockery said.

He, Clint, and Starkweather got to the top of a hill and looked down at the Simmons place.

“You said it was a ranch,” Clint said.

“It was, once,” Dockery said. “I didn't know it got this bad.”

“That barn's about to fall down,” Starkweather said.

“That might be the least of their problems,” Clint said.

“Whataya mean?” Dockery asked.

“Look at the doorway.”

Dockery and Starkweather tried to see what Clint was seeing—and then they did. A pair of legs sticking out the open doorway.

“And that corral,” Clint said.

“It's empty,” Dockery said.

“And the door's wide open,” Starkweather said.

“Damn it,” Dockery said. “We're too late.”

“We better get down there and see the extent of the damage.”

They rode down.

It took five minutes to see that John Simmons was dead, as were his two children, all shot.

“The girl must've been eight,” Dockery said. “The boy was a teenager, I think.”

“What about a wife?” Starkweather asked. “Was there a wife?”

“There was,” Dockery said.

“Jessup and the others must have taken her,” Clint said, “and whatever horses were in the corral.”

“How close are we to Yuma?” Starkweather asked.

“This is pretty much halfway,” Dockery said.

“Why would they pick this place, if there were others between here and Yuma?” Clint asked.

“They probably bypassed the ones that had too many people, too many guns,” Dockery said. “This one was ripe for the pickings. They probably got a couple of horses, some food, and some guns.”

“And a woman,” Starkweather said.

“After being in Yuma,” Clint said, “they wouldn't have been able to pass up a woman.”

“We have to bury these people,” Dockery said. “I'll find a shovel.”

“I'm going to take a look at the corral,” Clint said. “I might be able to tell how many animals they got.”

“Kid, come with me,” Dockery said. “Maybe we can find two shovels.”

“While we bury them, the escapees are getting further away,” Starkweather said.

“First,” Dockery said, “these people deserve a burial. Second, I doubt they got prime stock out of that corral. We'll be able to ride them down. And third, your old man's not goin' anywhere. I doubt he's gonna leave the country. You'll catch up to him, eventually.”

“You're right,” Starkweather said. “I'm sorry.”

They went looking for shovels while Clint went to the corral.

 

As soon as Jessup and the escapees got away from the house, Castillo dismounted and took the woman behind some trees. She'd been riding with him, sitting in front, and all the way she could feel his hardness through his pants. He'd wanted to rape her at the house, but Jessup had stopped him.

“Once we get away from here,” he'd said, “she's all yours—and I got seconds.”