Marshal Hammond reached Abilene at about eight. Even at this early hour, the place was a hive of industry, with the cattle yards full and more steers arriving by the minute. Although not a large town, Abilene was a well known one. In 1870, Thomas Smith, better known as “Bear River” Smith, was the marshal of Abilene. He went out to a nearby farm and attempted to serve a warrant on Moses Miles. In the course of the gun battle which developed from this simple operation, Smith was wounded. As he lay there, utterly helpless, Miles clubbed him insensible with the butt of his rifle and then cut off the marshal’s head with an axe. The following year, “Wild” Bill Hickock was appointed marshal. This ended with his being sacked after accidentally shooting dead one of his deputies.
Abilene was not the lively place that it had been a few years ago, but it was still the kind of town which tolerated lawlessness more than most. Hammond had no doubt at all that Bob Barker would come riding down the road into Abilene and with a little good fortune, they would be able to conduct their business pleasantly and then never set eyes upon each other again. The only possible fly in the ointment was that Barker’s grudge against Marshal Hammond for his role in wiping out the man’s family might be too great for him to receive amicably the offer of amnesty in exchange for the freeing of Esther. In that case, it might come to blows or even worse.
***
Esther said, “I’m sorry that it was my father as killed yours. How did it happen?”
“It was a stupid business. He went out to my pa’s farm with a couple of deputies from Wichita. It was nothing to do with him, I do not even know why he was there. There was shooting and when it was over both my father and two of my brothers were killed dead.”
“Still, you can’t be sure that it was my father that killed them. It could have been the deputies.”
“That is true. But he surely killed a good friend of mine a while back near Linton. It is right and proper for you to stick up for your pa, but he and I are not likely to become friends.”
It was beautiful, autumn day, a day to be glad about the world and all that was in it. Esther hoped that she and her father might still have a future together. The expedition to Wichita with Chris had been fun in a way, but she would not like to think of living so on a permanent basis. The lifestyle that this man behind her lived, never knowing from one day to the next if he would be arrested or killed, must be a truly terrible one.
***
If his calculations were correct, then Barker would not get to Abilene for at least an hour yet. Which meant, thought Hammond, that he would have time for some breakfast before meeting his adversary. He found a cheap eating house and ordered some bacon and eggs. This he washed down with copious quantities of strong coffee, until he felt a little better. It was not the first time, not by a long sight, that he had rode all through the night and then conducted some business of this nature at the end of it, but in recent years, he had noticed that such games were taking more of a toll upon him.
Most of those sitting at nearby tables were carrying firearms and so Hammond did not think that anybody would object to his preparing for action here. He took from his bag a small copper flask of powder and a box of percussion caps. He did not look for there to be any gunplay this morning, but doubtless the possibility existed and so he meant to be ready.
First, he emptied the charges from all five chambers of the Dragoon. He always did this if he wanted to be perfectly sure of his gun. Sometimes, powder left in a chamber for too long has a habit of becoming damp and failing to take fire. This can be fatal if you are depending upon your shot to kill and adversary.
He had to winkle the balls out with a toothpick, but eventually the cylinder was completely empty. He freed it from the spindle and cleaned out each chamber with a screwed up piece of paper. While Hammond was engaged in this task, the man at a nearby table said, “Say, you don’t often see cap and ball pistols like that any more. I am surprised to see somebody in your line of work favouring such an antiquated weapon.” Hammond remembered then that he still had his star showing. He said:
“It all depends if you wish to throw a heap of lead about or put one or two shots just where you want them to go.”
The fellow said, “Mind if I join you for a moment?”
Although he was not really in the mood for casual and inconsequential talk, Hammond felt that it would have been discourteous to refuse and so he acquiesced with a shrug. The man came over and sat down at his table. “Don’t you ever have sparks setting off another chamber when you fire? I have had that happen to me during the war.”
“It need not be a problem,” said Marshal Hammond, “You just smear a little fat or grease around the chamber when once it is charged. He showed what he meant by wiping a little bacon grease from his breakfast plate around the chamber he had just filled. “See now, any spark will now be extinguished”
The two of them chatted a little and then Hammond excused himself and left the eating house. He went down the street to where he had left Buster tethered to a rail, his intention being to ride and meet Barker and his daughter.
***
“How long until we get to this Abilene?” asked Esther.
“Maybe an hour,” replied Bob Barker, “Do you want to rest for a spell?”
“I would not mind walking around a bit, yes.”
So amiable and accommodating was the man she was travelling with, that Esther Hammond could hardly bring herself to believe that he really was a villain. He was solicitous of her welfare, treated her with enormous respect and had urged her to repent and follow the right road; although of course he had not put the case in those exact words. She had known men from her father’s church who she would not have cared to be alone with under these circumstances. Strange to relate, the fellow was an absolute gentleman.
“What will you do when once you have unburdened yourself of me in Abilene?” the girl asked.
“I have one or two irons in various fires,” replied Barker, “I’m sure that I shall pick up with one or two friends and we will undertake some enterprise or other.”
“Is that the roundabout way of saying that you will rob a bank or something?” said Esther.
“You got that right,” said Barker, “Come, are you stretched enough now?” They got back on the horse and carried on towards Abilene.
***
Now it often happens that the bitterest tragedies are precipitated by the most trifling and inconsequential causes. Death and disaster can be triggered by some random misunderstanding, even one as simple as mistaking one man for another as he walks down the street. This is just what happened in the case of Jeremiah Hammond.
The night before Marshal Hammond arrived in Abilene, a set of drunken cowboys were celebrating reaching the end of the Chisholm Trail after a long and arduous cattle drive from Texas. Seven of them had started out drinking, but one had become separated from his friends and ended up disputing in a bar-room. The result was that he had been picked up by the town marshal and locked up overnight.
The remaining six boys from the original party had not received word of their comrade’s misfortune until after dawn that morning. They had been moving round a fair bit throughout the night, from location to location and had more or less forgotten about their friend. Now though, they were filled with wrath and determined to have the matter out with the marshal who had had the gall to tackle one of their band in this high-handed fashion. That they had all six of them been drinking the whole night long, did not help matters nor make it any likelier that they would reach a peaceful and satisfactory conclusion.
It was at the moment that the six cowboys were marching towards the marshal’s office to see about having their fellow worker freed, that the marshal himself came striding straight towards them, with a look upon his face that suggested that he was in no mood for any foolishness and would brook no debate. It was of course not the Abilene town marshal, but rather Jeremiah Hammond. He had a star on his jacket and looked set for business and so it was an easy mistake for them to make to make. The six men spread out across his way and stood firm, indicating that they were looking for a confrontation.
“Well boys,” said Hammond, in a brisk but not unfriendly way, “What will you have? I am in somewhat of a hurry, so state your business quickly.”
“We are looking for Ben Saddler, you whore’s son and you had best tell us right now where you have him kept!” was the reply. Much as he was in a hurry, Marshal Hammond did not take at all to being spoken to in this wise. He said;
“You had better watch that mouth of yours, mister. Talk like that will land you in trouble before you are very much older. Have you not heard that, ‘A soft answer turneth away wrath, but strong words provoketh a rebuke’? That’s the Bible text and I can tell you now that you carry on so and I am just the man to rebuke you. All of you now, step aside. I have matters to attend to.”
This forthright and uncompromising attitude did not recommend itself to the men blocking Hammond’s path. One of them spat on the sidewalk and said, “You better change your tune. Otherwise, you will have trouble on your hands.”
Despite his pressing engagement, Marshal Hammond did not propose to allow this sort of thing. He flipped his jacket to one side, exposing the pistol that was tucked into his belt. He said, “That is enough talk, now. Clear the road, so that I may pass. If you do not, then the consequences will be upon your own heads.” He had not failed to noticed that all six of the young men blocking his way were carrying weapons, but did not believe that they would really be prepared to risk death over what was evidently a simple case of mistaken identity.
***
As Bob Barker came into Abilene, he said to his young passenger, “Well young lady, here is where you and me part company. It has been nice visiting with you, even if the circumstances of our meeting were not what one might call promising.”
“Oh, as to that, I think that things might have worked out well enough. I have had a lively time this last week, but I would not care to live so as a regular routine.”
“I will take you into the centre of town,” said Barker, “There you can find the telegraph office and other useful places. You have money?”
“Yes, yes I do. Thank you.”
“Now recollect what I said to you, as touching upon your father. I was hot for killing him not twenty four hours since, but for your sake and not his, I will forego that vengeance. You go right back to him and tell him you are sorry for what you done and that you will study to be a better person in the future. Will you do that?”
“Yes, I will.”
“Do you promise me?”
“Yes, I promise.”
“Well, that’s a mercy. My sort of life is not one for a good girl such as yourself. I can’t think what you were about. Set mind to what your pa tells you and go back to Linton with him.”
As they came to Main Street, a surprising and unlooked for sight met their eyes. They were approaching a bunch of men from the rear. These fellows gave every impression of being about to launch an attack and the object of their assault was a man dressed soberly in black, with a shiny silver star gleaming upon his jacket. It was plain that they had arrived just as this affair was about to reach a climax.
“Oh, please help my father!” said Esther urgently.
“Help your father? That is not likely.”
“He cannot stand against all those men.”
“He did well enough yesterday,” muttered Barker, “Alright, get down now.” He helped lower her to the ground and then dismounted himself. He said to the frightened girl, “Run along out of harm’s way now. I will do what I may.”
Bob Barker walked up to within twenty feet of the group of men who appeared to be menacing the Marshal and said loudly, “Now what’s to do here?”
The cowboys whirled round to face this unexpected interruption. One of them said, “What’s it to you? Are you the law as well?”
Barker laughed out loud at this question. He shook his head and said, “Nothing of the sort. But you might say that I have an interest in this fellow’s welfare. It don’t signify how. Just you men go on about your affairs now and we will not fall out.”
For a second or so, everything balanced upon the edge of a knife. All the cowboys really wanted was to find their missing friend and be reunited with him. They had not taken much to the way in which the marshal had spoken to them, but would probably have overlooked this. Now though, they were being squeezed from two different directions. That this squeezing was being done by only two men, when there were six of them, all carrying, sat ill with two of the more hotblooded types in the group. One of these men said, “If you know what is good for you, you will walk on now on the other side of the road and leave this alone.”
“Can’t be done, my friend,” said Bob Barker cheerfully, “Made a promise to a young lady and I always keep such promises. That man yonder is no particular friend of mine, but on this occasion, he and I stand together. Take him on and I come too.”
“Do you say so?” said one of the cowboys, who then drew his pistol and commenced firing at Barker.
Nice! I hope all of the likes will encourage Simon to write more! Your stories are great and your articles are always interesting and insightful.
Nail biting!