Chapter 8 – Matt Implements His Plan
The farm family had locked up the house and fed the stock before leaving. Roy Hoffmann, his mother Lydia beside him and his wife lying in the back, her head just visible outside the tarp, drove the buckboard northwest toward where Emmett Bowers' large ranch abutted the farm rather than east toward town. It would save valuable time if they didn't have to travel as far as the ranch house to ask one of their neighbor's riders to see to feeding the animals and otherwise make sure the place didn't look abandoned. Luck was with them. Slim Watkins waved as they approached the barbed wire fence Roy had erected last year to keep Bowers' cattle from stomping on and eating his crops.
After making the necessary arrangements, Roy turned his rig toward Dodge. He drove past Boot Hill, the burial ground that was mostly for those who met a violent death, before driving south on Third Avenue to Walnut Street. Burt Scanlon must have felt nobody would willingly ride by the notorious cemetery because none of his men were there to stop their progress. The woman sitting beside Roy on the buckboard bench asked who was buried there. Her son's response only confirmed Lydia Hoffmann's beliefs about the community no matter what Kitty Russell had told her during the trip from Missouri. What she witnessed upon arriving in town and this unkempt burial ground convinced her there was more than a grain of truth to the rumors. Dodge City deserved its sordid reputation.
At Walnut, Matt quickly scrambled out from under the tarp to the ground while Chester literally hopped out of the wagon. Both men scooted toward the alley that ran between Third and Bridge Streets to Matt's room. Chester now carried the rifle he had secured in the saddle boot since they left Dodge ten days ago. Leaving his boss, he continued on Walnut past Bridge to the alley that led to the side door of the jailhouse. It allowed entry into the office directly behind Matt's desk. Meanwhile Matt turned off Walnut to head straight for the exterior entrance to his room where he could quickly change into darker clothes. While none of Scanlon's men were stationed along residential streets like Third or Walnut, he'd need to surprise them as he made his way toward the back stairs of the Long Branch. He hoped Chester wasn't spotted as his assistant before he got to the jail.
Roy, having clandestinely deposited his armed passengers at the designated intersection, continued down Third, past Chestnut, to Front Street and Ma Smalley's boardinghouse. He helped his mother down only to be met by the man currently assigned to watch for anyone trying to enter town from the west. If the watcher missed spotting people arriving at Moss Grimmack's livery, he'd catch them at Ma's as they made their way down Dodge City's main street. The stocky, dark-haired man with a scar across his left cheek drew his pistol. He was beside Roy before the farmer reached the rear of his wagon. The bully found nothing more than a very pregnant woman, an irate yet frightened matron left standing beside the vehicle and an unarmed farmer concerned for the wellbeing of his family. The indignant ruckus Roy raised when he objected to the gunman frightening his womenfolk brought Ma and several tenants to the front porch to see what all the fuss was about.
Although raising a stink was part of Matt's plan, Roy wasn't acting. The armed man's actions riled him. Despite the gun the outlaw held, Ma's tenants backed his verbal tirade without thinking of the consequences that would surely follow. A couple men plucked up enough courage to grab the ruffian from behind. After disarming him, they held the struggling outlaw so Roy could have the pleasure of punching him in the jaw and knocking him out. While most folks remained distracted by Roy's actions, Lydia and Ma helped Clarey inside to an empty ground floor room and then into bed. A whiskey drummer, Ted Carnegie, not liking how he'd been fleeced out of most of his profits when he deposited them at the bank, helped bring the family's bags to the room and then led the wagon to Moss' stable.
While the outwardly unassuming Carnegie took charge of the outlaw's gun and saw to it the man remained helpless until the angry farmer returned with the town doctor Roy raced down the street toward that very man's office. He met up with the physician as he exited the Long Branch to loudly inform him of the impending birth. The two men, as soon as the doctor retrieved his medical bag, sped down the boardwalk as fast as Doc's shuffle would allow. Upon his return to Ma's Roy, feeling better about Matt's plan now it had successfully begun and knowing Ted would keep his mother and wife safe while he played his part, dragged the semi-conscious outlaw with him to the jail.
By the time made Roy reached the back door of the jail with his burden, Chester had seized the building without anybody seeing him. Although Scanlon made sure at least one man was always inside the jail, he didn't keep a very close eye on anywhere other than the front door. Even if someone managed to break in through the rear or side doors the outlaw leader was certain the noise would alert at the very least his man inside or the one watching the front door. No one could successfully break the prisoners out or smuggle in a weapon. As an added precaution he'd ordered boards nailed across the barred windows. The cells were darker, but no weapon could be thrown inside. He knew neither the back nor side door could be unlocked because he controlled all the keys so any visitor needed a reason before being admitted.
Matt's key was the one Shiloh had been forced to turn over to the usurpers. Doc had voluntarily surrendered the spare but Chester had kept his key. After all, to the jailer this building was his home. Therefore, he knew the idiosyncrasies of each of the three doors. Wiggling the key before turning it clockwise in the lock was the secret to opening the side door without a sound. If you simply inserted it and turned, the lock would squeak even if it had been recently oiled. He pulled the now unlocked door towards him and stepped through, putting his rifle barrel against the rear of the skull that was conveniently tilted toward him. The body attached to the head topped with greasy, murky brown hair was an inch or so shorter than Chester, but just as slimly built. He started when he became aware of the gun, nearly losing his balance in the process. The pretend lawman's feet slipped off the corner of Matt's desk to reveal him playing with a pair of handcuffs.
"You'll be needin' them later," Chester told him in his most authoritative voice that fell far short of the one he so admired in his boss. "For now all yah need do is keep quiet, git up slowly and walk toward the cells. Grab them keys on the way. One sound and you'll feel the barrel of this rifle up the side of yer head."
The scumbag playing at being marshal for his boss Scanlon obeyed. He took the keys, opened the door between the office and cells and walked toward the only occupied one. Shiloh, a man not over five-foot seven with a mustache and sideburns, who showed signs of a previous beating, sat on the cot inside it and smiled at the sight before him. Chester was acting as if he knew what he was doing. Shiloh rose to his full height, feeling cocky. The no longer young, but not yet middle aged in appearance man knew the marshal had returned to reclaim his town. Following Chester's orders, the unkempt scoundrel exchanged places and keys with Shiloh. The man Matt had left in charge while he and Chester brought Burke and Keller to justice locked the cell door in satisfaction.
Meanwhile Matt, now dressed in dark clothes, glided his big frame along building walls, darting from shadow to shadow. He remained alert as he moved along the back alleys he knew so well that separated his room at Ma's from Kitty's above the Long Branch. Along the way he subdued three of Scanlon's men, one behind the bank, one by the Long Branch privy and one under the saloon's back stairs. The first leaned against the privy wall, his attention focused on Jonas' storeroom. The other watched for anyone approaching or leaving via the saloon stairs. Matt didn't waste time tying or gagging them, trusting the butt of his Peacemaker would render them unconscious until they could be dragged to a cell. Only Scanlon and seven more remained to be dealt with.
The marshal crept up the back stairs cautiously, making sure he avoided any that squeaked or crackled when stepped on. As expected the door at the top was locked so, when combined with the man watching the back stairs, access to Kitty's girls was only from inside the saloon. Matt smiled to himself as he turned the key that would open it. One of the things he'd done upon his official appointment was to ask the saloon, gambling establishment and dancehall owners for keys to their nonpublic entrances so he could surreptitiously enter in case of trouble. Once inside the Long Branch upstairs hall it was only moments before his giant steps brought him to Kitty's door. He took out the key she recently gave him. From the sounds he hoped he'd arrived in time.
