Buzzard's Bluff. William W. Johnstone
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chair and knocked the chair over backward before Kelly could reach it. “That was a warning shot,” Ben said. “I don’t give but one. The next one will save you a trip to jail.”
“All right! All right!” Kelly exclaimed and sank back on the bed again. “I was just tryin’ to keep her from stealin’ my money.”
“He owes me for lettin’ him wallow all over me!” Nell blurted.
“I suppose he does,” Ben said. “How much do you charge for a trip up here?”
“Fifteen dollars,” Nell answered.
“You lyin’ bitch!” Kelly spat. “Five dollars is what I agreed to, and that’s more’n she’s worth.”
“Take five dollars,” Ben said, “and put the rest back on the dresser.”
“You believe his word over mine?” Nell cried.
“I reckon I do,” Ben told her. “I expect that money will be goin’ back to the stage company.”
She did as he said, took five dollars, and put the rest back on the dresser. “It’d take more’n that to do it again,” she pouted. “Big Foot Sam, hah! Maybe his foot’s big, I don’t know. I wouldn’t let him take his boots off, but I’ve seen the rest of him.”
“Sit down over there and shut up,” Ben said, afraid if she didn’t, he might have to shoot Kelly to keep him from going after her. “Come on, Kelly, let’s get movin’.”
Downstairs in the saloon, all conversation stopped suddenly when the shot was heard overhead. Everybody waited to hear if there would be more, all except Jack Queen. At once concerned about his partner up there with the prostitute, he got up from his chair, intending to find out. “Just hold it right there, and I won’t have to shoot you,” Billy Turner said, standing behind him now. “I wanna see both your hands in the air,” Billy told him, and when Queen did so, Billy slipped the .44 up out of his holster. “I’m a Texas Ranger, and I’m placin’ you under arrest for shootin’ two people in a stagecoach holdup.”
Queen was about to claim that Billy had the wrong man but saved his breath when he saw Kelly coming down the stairs with Ben behind him with a drawn six-gun. Sam had made no more attempts to jump the lawman, hoping that Ben was alone, leaving a possibility that Jack would shoot him down when he tried to escort him out the door. His hopes sank when he saw there were two Rangers, and the other one had already arrested Jack. “Heard a shot,” Billy said. “Any trouble?”
“No,” Ben replied, “just a warnin’. Let’s get some bracelets on these boys.” While Ben held his gun on the prisoners, Billy clamped their hands together behind their backs and they marched them out the front door. “Sorry to interrupt your afternoon entertainment, folks,” Ben said to the spectators as they escorted the two out.
Outside the saloon, they helped their prisoners up into their saddles. Once they were settled on their horses, Ben and Billy had to decide how they were going to handle them. They had to transport them to Austin, which was a hundred miles due west. They now had two prisoners and two extra packhorses to contend with. Their own horses had already gone forty miles that day. They didn’t know how long the prisoners’ horses had rested. On top of all that, it was getting close to suppertime, not a good time to start on a hundred-mile trip. They decided to water their horses, then start out for Austin, but planned to stop and make camp after only ten miles or so. Ben had traveled the old trail between Navasota and Austin many times before and he had a spot in mind to camp. They agreed it was best to get the prisoners out of Navasota. So they rigged up a line for all the packhorses and departed Navasota in the late afternoon. Their plan was to start out early the next morning and make Austin in two days’ time.
* * *
Evening was fast approaching when they reached the bank of the creek Ben had in mind. So after handcuffing their prisoners’ hands around a couple of small trees, the Rangers unloaded the horses and left them to water. Only after the horses were taken care of did they think about starting a fire and cooking something for their prisoners and themselves to eat.
“Hey, Ranger,” Sam called out, “you gonna cook us somethin’ to eat, too?” The two oaks he and Jack Queen were embracing were close enough for the prisoners to talk to each other. They were the only two trees in that spot small enough to lock their arms around comfortably. Otherwise, Ben would have parked them on opposite sides of the campfire, so they couldn’t talk quietly to each other. That often led to plans to escape.
Billy didn’t bother to answer Sam’s question, so after a minute or two, Ben answered. “Yeah, we’ll feed you, but don’t expect a fancy supper. It’ll be the same thing we’re eatin’, so any complaints will just be wasted breath.”
“We’re goin’ to a helluva lot of trouble carryin’ these two back to jail,” Billy commented, his words too low to be heard by the prisoners on the other side of the fire. “Too bad we jumped ’em before they had a chance to fight. Be a lot easier to shoot the devils.
“Yeah, I reckon it woulda,” Ben replied, “but our orders are to bring ’em in for trial, if possible. So I reckon that’s what we’d best do.”
Billy still saw no sense in it. “The boys in my company in Fort Worth pretty much think we’re just bringin’ fellers like these two in for a rope necktie that’s waitin’ for ’em. So what’s the sense in goin’ to the trouble to transport ’em all that long way?” When he saw the skeptical look he got from Ben, he was quick to explain. “Hell, I ain’t talkin’ about horse thieves and bank robbers that ain’t shot nobody. We carry them back to trial. But when you’re haulin’ a couple of murderers like these two, that’s liable to kill you if you was to get careless, it makes sense to save the hangman the trouble.”
Ben took a long pause before he responded. “Well,” he finally said, “I reckon that is one way of lookin’ at it. I expect it depends on the company you’re in. F-company has always been one to see a prisoner get his day in court and let the executioner do his job.”
Billy was clearly disappointed, and not looking forward to a hard two-day ride, hauling the two prisoners. He was sorry to hear Ben’s reluctance to eliminate the possibility of trouble, as well. He reached over and picked up a couple of small limbs and stuck them on the fire. He bit his lip and shook his head and sighed as he watched them catch fire, “It’s gonna be a long ride from here to Austin.”
“Reckon so,” Ben replied, “always is.” His opinion of Billy Turner had dropped considerably in the last few minutes. There were often times when a Ranger was given no choice in the question of life or death. There were lots of times when you transported a corpse back from an arrest attempt. But to outright execute a bound prisoner to save yourself some trouble couldn’t be classified as anything short of murder, which made you no better than the outlaw you were sent to arrest.
As both Rangers expected, Big Foot Sam and Jack were already discussing the prospects of a possible escape. “It ain’t gonna be easy,” Sam said, speaking just above a whisper as their captors went about the business of cooking some sowbelly and boiling coffee.
“It’s a long way from here to Austin,” Jack replied. “I heard ’em say they was gonna make it in two days. They’re liable to slip up sometime, we just got to watch for it. If they get us locked up in Austin, it’s gonna be the hangman’s rope for us and that ain’t no lie.” He paused when Billy walked close by on his way to fill the coffeepot with water. “You see what I see?” Jack continued after Billy passed by. “Look at them packs they took off our horses. They tied our gun belts to ’em. Now, that’s mighty careless.”
“I expect they emptied the guns,” Sam said. “Don’t you reckon?”
“Not while I was lookin,” Jack replied, “and I’ve been watchin’ ’em pretty close. They ain’t likely gonna leave ’em like that, but maybe we’ll get a chance if they unlock us to eat.”
The two outlaws were not the only ones to take note of the gun belts hanging