Range War Along the Pecos, by John Theron Crow

Range War Along the Pecos

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

 
The town of Olsen's Falls was bustling with excitement as a huge mob of people had gathered outside the Post-Office to discover who would become the temporary appointees for the offices of sheriff and town marshal. Mayor Samuel Irvins had just finished tallying up the suggestions which ran easily three to one in favor of either Colt Ballard or Jack Duane over any other candidate, although the next closest one had been Jesse Logan, who might well have won had not Ballard and Duane gunned down the bank robbers the previous day--not that it would have mattered though.
Colt Ballard was standing amongst the crowd sided by Johnny Lancer. Jack Duane however, was nowhere to be seen. Morgan Tanner, having noticed Duane's absence, had become increasingly irritated. He surreptitiously motioned Ballard over to his side and asked, "Where the hell is Duane?"
"Hell boss, I don't know fer sure but I got me a purty good idea he's out sparkin' an old flame he just run inta the other day."
"Damn! Well Ballard, I have seen the way the suggestions have been running and I can tell you that both you and Duane have been basically, elected! As soon as the official announcement is made, you ride out and bring him back to town at once!"
"Yessir, boss." Ballard said, suppressing a grin at Tanner's obvious discomfort.
Just then, the mayor rose up and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, the suggestions have been taken into account. Keep in mind that whoever is appointed today, is only appointed upon a temporary basis. Anyone wishing to run against the appointees officially, may register his name on the ballot beginning today. The official elections for the offices of Sheriff and Town Marshal will be held in six weeks. Of course, if the town is satisfied with the performance of the appointees at that time, they are free to elect them on a more permanent basis.
Your votes have been counted and have run heavily in favor of Jack Duane, and Colt Ballard. However, it has been virtually impossible to distinguish which man for which job, due to the nature of the written suggestions which often suggested both men for both jobs. Therefore, I will, officially that is, flip a coin." That drew a bit of laughter from the crowd, but no one protested so the mayor continued.
"Since Mr. Duane is not amongst us at present, we will use Mr. Ballard. Heads, Mr. Ballard is the sheriff, and tails, he becomes the town marshal and Jack Duane is the sheriff. Any objections, Mr. Ballard?"
Colt began to object but was bruskly elbowed in the ribs by Morgan Tanner. "None at'tal." He said resignedly. He was hoping for the job of Town Marshall. That, would allow him more time to pursue the ladies, gambling and other somewhat dubious activities. A sheriff was often out of town chasing desperadoes and what not. The marshal only had to keep the peace in town, most of the time, unless the sheriff were unavailable for some reason.
The mayor tossed the coin, caught it, and fliped it over upon his arm. "Heads!" The crowd let out a cheer while Ballard emitted a groan as Johnny Lancer laughed at his misfortune.
"Congratulations, Sheriff! I sure am glad I ain't one a the bad guys, why I'd be a shakin' in my boots!" Lancer chided.
"Aw, shut yer hole, Lancer, I may nominate you fer my deputy an give YOU all the work!" Ballard threatened.
"Nominate all ya want, pard, I ain't sure I'd accept." Lancer said, although he was seriously considering it. He felt it would be some change of pace--instead of being on the run from the law, working as a law-man for a change.
As the townsfolk began to crowd about Ballard and congratulate him, Morgan Tanner stood up and addressed them.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I regret to inform you that, as our distinguished mayor has informed us, Jack Duane is not present at this moment. However, judging by your response toward him and Sheriff Ballard yesterday, he had strongly anticipated that he would be appointed for the job. However, he must not have taken into consideration precisely which job he would receive.
As of right now, I have been informed that the very reason for his absence pertains to the office of Sheriff. He is even now, out searching for evidence concerning the murder of our late sheriff, Malcolm Orr. Nevertheless, Sheriff Ballard has informed me that he will break the news to Marshal Duane as soon as he can locate him, and we shall correct this misunderstanding. Sheriff Ballard will no doubt, continue where Marshal Duane leaves off in that matter.
The Mayor, town council, and myself, wish to sincerely thank you for your participation in this matter-- especially your unswerving commitment toward law and order in a crises such as this. The spirit of American democracy you all possess has been powerfully demonstrated by your patriotic, participation in these proceedings this day. God bless you all and good day. Drinks at the Silver Palace are on the house for the next half hour!"
At that last, the crowd cheered enthusiastically. Ballard extricated himself from the crowd and said, "Alright folks, I sure appreciate your confidence in me an my pardner. But right now, I reckon I'd best go find 'em an let 'em know that he's got things backwards. He's out a-doin' my job. Be seein' ya'll soon."
He then went to the livery and retrieved his horse, setting out toward Maggie Baldridge's place in search of his pardner, the new town marshal, Jack Duane.
As the crowd began to disperse, Morgan Tanner, sided by Jake Barlow and Chico Portalis, motioned to Johnny Lancer to follow. Saying nothing, but clearly curious, Lancer followed them into Tanner's office, the sign above which read, "Tanner Enterprises" Cattle, Mining, Land Speculation, Freighting."
Tanner sat down behind his huge mahogany desk and bade Lancer sit down as well. Johnny glance at Portalis and Barlow who remained standing and declined. Portalis didn't bother him much, however, Jake Barlow's presence made him feel about as comfortable as being next to a diamondback rattlesnake. The small gunman addressed him with a gaze that seemed to contain at once, childlike innocence, and yet a sinister disdainful arrogance. It was a face which was almost impossible to read. However, Lancer had heard enough about his lightning draw, and overall unpredictability to know to be wary. "I'll stand, thanks. How can I help ya mister Tanner?"
"Well, I will need two deputies. One for deputy marshal, and the other, for deputy sheriff. Either job is yours if you want it. I'll fill the other shortly. Right now, the other men I have in mind have not arrived. I need someone who is expert with a pistol, of course."
Dissembling somewhat, Lancer replied, "Pardon my askin', but what about Barlow here? Some say he's the best."
Tanner smiled wryly and said, "Unfortunately, Mr. Barlow here, is highly feared and mistrusted by the locals. Nor I fear, do either Ballard or Duane care for him overly much. You seem to have won both of them over, and the town as well, in spite of your past reputation."
"Mr. Tanner, I'll just have to think on it a mite."
"Alright, you have until tomorrow. By that time, if you have not decided, I will hire two men for the job. They are reputed to be as fast as Mr. Barlow here, maybe faster, if the accounts of their exploits are to be believed."
Johnny glanced at Barlow to see how he would react to such a statement. The small gunman's face did betray him, ever so slightly. His mouth showed faint signs of amusement--as if the suggestion that anyone was as fast as he was not to be taken seriously.
"Well pardon my askin' again, but who the hell might that be? Hell, seems ta me, that the only men in his class besides himself are already around these parts. One rides fer Murdoch, three work fer you, and four or five ride with Fogg. 'Course, there is one other I know of, an right now, he don't work fer anyone. That's me." Lancer added the last, cockily grinning at Barlow who's face betrayed nothing. "Seems ta me that this territory has all the fastest gunmen here already." Lancer added.
"Wrong my friend. There are several fast gunmen out there, and the three I am speaking of would certainly be ranked among your list if not higher. Surely you've heard of them; Case Tyree, Ace Scurlock and Wade Terrell."
Lancer's mouth dropped open in amazement. Tanner had been right. The three mentioned were among the fastest and at least in the same league as any around Olsen's Falls, if not more than a match for any of them. He was surprised that their names had not occurred to him. However, he hadn't heard them mentioned in nearly a year. "How'd ya manage that? Way I heard it, all three work fer Abe Brockman, who's got a ranch purt near big as your's. Hell, the man owns half a Sterling County, parts a Glasscock and Reagan Counties as well!"
Lancer was referring to the huge Concho River Ranch, home of Abe Brockman and the Rocking-B brand.
"Abe Brockman died, about three weeks ago. I bought out his stock, and hired his men beforehand." Tanner said. * * *
As he explained, it turned out that almost two months previous, Tanner had visited Brockman's Rocking-B spread in order to buy some new cattle the man had been reputedly developing. Brockman had confided in Tanner that he was dying of cancer, and that the doctors had given him less than a month. The land he owned was disputed, but few, even the Rangers, wished to attempt to drive him off, so fierce was the reputation of the men who had ridden for him. He had taken all of the land by force, from several other legitimate ranchers. His men, especially Scurlock, Terrell and Tyree, had fought in numerous feuds, winning all of them and few, cared anymore to dispute his claim.
Nevertheless, he had no heirs, and even if he had, it was likely that upon his death, they would not be able to legally hold the land. Thus, Morgan Tanner had taken advantage of the situation. Offering higher wages to all of his employees, if, upon Brockman's death, they would move Brockman's entire herd over to the MT and begin working for Tanner. The Concho River Riders had agreed to a man, all of them aware that they might soon be out of a job, upon Brockman's death.
"That's mighty impressive, Mr. Tanner. But like I said, I'll give you my answer after I think about it a while. Preciate the offer though, and I might just take you up on it."
"Alright, Mr. Lancer. You have until noon tomorrow, to inform me of your decision. After that, I will fill the openings myself." Tanner said impatiently and in dismissal.
As Johnny departed the office he was beginning to realize just how true Murdoch's and Logan's fears really were, that Tanner was after all of the land in the territory. If he had truly hired Brockman's Concho River outfit, he just might get it too. Their reputation had been legendary. Even the Fogg raiders had steered clear of that bunch. Murdoch's only chance as far as Lancer could see, was to ally himself with Captain Fogg as soon as possible and attack first, fast, and furiously! Get it over with as soon as possible before Tanner could bring legal forces to bear as well.
Unfortunately however, he feared his uncle would never do that. Moose Murdoch had always fought his own battles, and always would. Nor, would he strike first, unless he knew for certain that his enemy was preparing to do the same. Murdoch was, in his own way, an honorable man. A man who believed in right and wrong, law and order, and fair play. However, he was up against a man who believed in power, and power alone. Tanner cared little for the concept of law. yet owned most of the law in the area. Lancer was beginning to feel guilty that he would even consider working for Tanner, even if it was to be, only a means to a greater end. After all, wasn't that Tanner's thinking as well?!
He pushed into the Boar's Head Saloon and ordered a whiskey, slammed it down, and ordered another. When Conchita approached him, he even brushed her aside, wanting to be alone for awhile, and sort out his thoughts. What really WERE his plans, and just where DID he stand amidst all of this turmoil?
Some time later, Conchita returned to his side. "Senor Johnny, eet ees more bettor eef joo come to Conchita's room right now." she said, her voice betraying a sense of urgency.
"What's the matter, Connie?" Lancer asked, slightly annoyed that she would continue to pester him after he'd expressed a desire for solitude.
"Joor enemy, he ees come to town. Senor Tommy Mason. Remember, joo tell Conchita to tell joo eef he come?"
Lancer remembered. He had confided in her the previous night after a torrid bout of lovemaking, regarding his concerns, including his friendship with Logan and the Masons' desire for revenge.
"It's true, Lancer." Bill Wyler said as he came through the batwing doors, having overheard part of what Conchita had told Lancer. "I was just over at the Miner's Rest, and Mason was in there asking for you. When he didn't find you there, he went over to the Silver Palace. He apparently rode into town with Moose Murdoch. Murdoch went straight to the Post Office and hasn't come out since. But I reckon Mason's next stop'll be here. You'd best go up with Connie. Her window overlooks the street, so you can keep an eye out on what's goin' on. No one here will say a word, WILL THEY?" The last was directed at the few patrons who were there at that hour. They all agreed and the handsome young, normally cocksure gunman, began to rise from the table to go up with Conchita when the batwing doors flew open, and in stepped Tommy Mason-- and Moose Murdoch.

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