Slaughter of Eagles. William W. Johnstone
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ain’t all bad. If the law in this one horse town knows that it was the Mueller brothers who held up the bank, they’ll be too scared to come after us.”
Barnes returned from the safe, carrying a sack.
“This is it,” he said. “This is all the money the bank has.”
“Open the top. Let me look down inside,” Luke Mueller said.
Barnes opened the top, disclosing several bound packets of twenty dollar bills.
“Now, that’s more like it,” Mueller said. He smiled, then took the bag. “It’s been a real pleasure doing business with you,” he said.
Chapter Two
The metal bit jangled against the horse’s teeth. The horse’s hooves clattered on the hard rock and the leather saddle creaked beneath the weight of its rider.
When Falcon MacCallister rode into town just before noon, he knew something had happened. It wasn’t due to some sort of psychic perception, though the clues were so subtle that there are many who would not have picked up on them.
Nobody was pitching horseshoes alongside Sikes’s Hardware Store.
No one was playing checkers in front of Boots and Saddles.
There were no clusters of women shoppers, standing on the corners, laughing and talking.
In fact there was a pall hanging over the town that was palpable. Wondering what was going on, Falcon stopped in front of the sheriff’s office, swung down from his horse, tied it off, and stepped inside. The sheriff and two of his deputies were looking at a map they had spread out on a table.
“Good morning, Amos,” Falcon said, greeting the newly elected sheriff, Amos Cody.
“Ah, Mr. MacCallister, am I glad to see you,” the young sheriff said.
“I keep telling you, Amos, to call me Falcon.”
“Yes, sir, I know you do, but it’s just that I grew up hearin’ about your pa’s exploits, then yours. Well, it just seems hard.”
“You are making me feel very old, Amos,” Falcon said. He glanced out the window and saw a little cluster of people engaged in an intense conversation. The somber expressions on their faces reinforced his feeling that something bad had happened.
“What’s going on, Sheriff?”
“You mean you haven’t heard?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“The bank was robbed this morning,” Amos said.
“And the Reverend Powell and his wife was murdered,” Deputy Bates added. Bates was a lot older than the young sheriff, and had been a deputy for many years.
“What?” Falcon said in surprise and anger. “Brother Charles and Sister Claudia have been killed?”
“Yes, they were in the bank when it was robbed.”
“But I don’t understand. Why were they killed?”
Sheriff Cody shook his head. “Who knows?”
“It was Luke and Clete Mueller,” Deputy Bates said. “From all I’ve heard about them two, they don’t really need no reason. Accordin’ to Clyde Barnes, the Powells were just standing there in the bank when the robbers came in. Next thing you know, Luke Mueller shot them. Then they got away, clean as a whistle.”
“The Mueller brothers, you say?”
“Yes. And three others,” Sheriff Cody said.
“Have you ever run across the Mueller brothers?” Bates asked.
“No.”
Bates smiled. “I didn’t reckon you had. ’Cause if you had, both them bastards would be dead by now.”
“Who were the other three?” Falcon asked.
Sheriff Cody shook his head. “We don’t know. Barnes recognized the Muellers, but he had never seen any of the others.”
“Are you going after them?”
“By now, they have more than likely left the county,” Sheriff Cody said. “Even if I found them, I would have to work with the sheriff of that county. But you hold a special deputy’s commission from the governor, which gives you authority all over the state. I was hoping you might take a personal interest in this. Reverend Powell was a friend of yours, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, he was a close friend. He did the funeral for my mother and my father, and he baptized nearly every one of my nieces and nephews. I guess I’ve known the Reverend and Mrs. Powell for just about all my life. They were among the earliest settlers of the valley, and they were good people.”
“He had already retired when I came here,” Sheriff Cody said. “But I knew him, of course, and from what I knew of him, he was a good person. I heard that he could give one stem-winder of a sermon.”
“Yes, he could,” Falcon said. He remembered, as a young boy, sometimes getting very impatient with the length of the good parson’s sermons. Falcon was usually anxious to get to a fishing pond or some such place, and he would squirm until his mother or one of his older sisters would fix him with a steely glare.
“Did anyone see them leave? Do we know which way they were going?” Falcon asked.
“Yes, we had quite a few people who saw them ride out of town. The only thing we know for sure is they were headin’ east when they left here. Bates and I went out lookin’ for ’em, but didn’t see anything.
“I know you probably have other things to do, but I was hopin’ you’d take a look around for us, see what you could come up with.”
“Sheriff, they killed two people who were as close as family to me. I would go after those men whether you asked me to or not. Yes, I will find them.”
It did not escape Sheriff Cody’s attention that Falcon said I “will find” them, rather than I “will go after” them.
“Thanks,” Sheriff Cody said.
“I told you he would,” Bates said with a smile of smug satisfaction on his face.
“Good, good. So, what do we do next? What can I do to help you?”
“The teller was the only witness?” Falcon asked.
“Clyde Barnes was the only witness to the actual hold up, though several saw them riding out of town.”
“Let’s start with Barnes,” Falcon suggested.
For the next half hour, Falcon gathered as much information as he could about the robbers.
“Well, you know what the Muellers look like, don’t you?” Barnes said. “I guess just about ever’ one knows what they look like. They’re little short, dried up, evil looking men. As for the others, one of them has only one eye. That’s his left eye. There is nothing but a big old ugly mass of purple flesh where the right eye was. And another one had only three fingers on his left hand. Don’t know as I saw anything particular about the third man, I mean, he was pretty ordinary as men go.”
“What about their horses?” Falcon asked.
Barnes shook his head. “I didn’t see them. I’m sorry.”
“That’s all right,” Falcon said. “You’ve given me a good description of the men. It will be very helpful.”
At least half a dozen citizens who had seen the bank robbers ride out of town at breakneck speed reported two were riding roans, one was riding a black horse, one a white horse, and one was riding a paint. Falcon examined the ground where the horses had been tied up outside the bank and saw something that made him smile. One of the horses had a tie-bar shoe on his right forefoot.