The Only Man I Can Trust
Chapter 10.
After Chester had left, Fleur brought one of the only two chairs in the cabin and set it next to where Matt was sitting on the floor, propped against his saddle.
"Anything I can do for you, Marshal?" It was not meant to be a seductive question. He could tell she was genuinely concerned.
"Maybe you can answer a question for me. Who arranged for Sheriff Hicks and his deputy to be killed like that?"
The woman thought for a moment. She had to admit she was scared of Carp and his friends. She would much rather throw her lot in with this man, but couldn't see how one or even two men could run Carp and all his people out of town. Still, she didn't have a lot to loose at this point. After all, Farrell had to know by now that she had helped Dillon escape from the jail.
"It was that gambler, Holcombe, who wanted the old sheriff out of the way. Mr. Hicks was trying to run him out of town. That's why Carp came to Great Bend. He had a deal with Holcombe. I think it was a man named Harris and another man, whose name I never knew, who actually did the killing. Harris was Carp's second in command at the time, but Farrell and Harris got in an argument and Harris lost. He's buried somewhere out there near the river. Farrell took over as Carp's lieutenant and soon after that the other killer left town. Farrell's not as smart as Harris was, but he is fast with that gun."
Dillon's eyes were closed as he rested his head back on the saddle, but he'd been listening to every word. He sat up a little and looked directly at Fleur.
"I'm planning to take Carp to trial, somehow. Will you get up in court and swear to that?"
"I'm scared he'd find some way to come after me." She was studying her finger nails hating to admit that she was still frightened of what that man would do to her.
"If I can take him alive, he'll be hanged, Fleur. He won't be able to come after you or anyone else."
"You don't know him, Marshal. He has a lot of friends."
"We'll see where his friends are when I have him locked up."
()()()
Chester and Hugh Tebbers left the farmhouse and walked in silence to where the horses were loose in a make-shift coral. As they were saddling their mounts, Chester outlined his idea.
"I need you to send a telegram to the Sheriff Ben Carver in Hays City asking him to send us two deputies. We'll need some help once we get Carp rounded up. When you send it, have the operator sign it Marshal Matt Dillon. The Sheriff is a good friend of Mr. Dillon's and will send help quickly."
"That makes sense, but how are we going to take Carp? He always has some of his men hanging around with him."
Chester thought for a moment. "I was hoping I could get him to follow me, then you and those two men you mentioned could jump him somewhere along the way."
"You mean an ambush?"
"Not exactly." Chester didn't really like the idea of an ambush, although he had been with Mr. Dillon a time or two when the marshal had resorted to that. Mr. Dillon usually liked to take his prisoners alive so they could stand trial for their crimes. "I'm hoping we can scare them enough that they give up and we don't have to kill anyone."
"What about Holcombe?"
"I'm not so sure, but I don't think he'll put up much of a fight by himself. Mr. Dillon is more worried about his brother, Spike, who escaped from prison. I'm hoping the deputies get here before he arrives."
"I don't know, Chester. It all sounds very risky."
"I've done riskier things with Mr. Dillon." The jailer tried to put as much confidence in his voice as he could muster. He hoped this would all turn out the way he figured. He'd watched some of the marshal's plans go wrong a time or two, and hoped his current endeavor wouldn't add to that number.
By now the horses were saddled and ready to go. Chester checked his Winchester rifle nestled in its scabbard, and made sure he had spare ammunition in his saddle bag. As a rule he didn't carry a pistol, but was quite a good shot with the rifle. Still, he couldn't just up a kill a man, even a man like Carp, without giving him a chance to defend himself.
They both mounted up and turned their horses towards the nearby trail that would lead back to town. The old farmhouse they were using was almost overgrown with prairie grasses and weeds, and unless someone knew where to look for it, they would most likely just ride on by.
They rode at a steady jog for almost a half hour, and Chester was about to tell Tebbers to ride on into town saying he would be along later. He didn't want Carp to see them together.
"Whoa!" said Chester, and Tebbers stopped to look at him. "Listen - horses coming. Let's get back off the road." There was an urgency in his voice that made Tebbers follow his new friend's instructions. They guided their mounts off the trail, and behind a stand of trees. The cover wasn't perfect, but it would have to do. Chester had pulled his rifle from its scabbard and was crouching beside his horse.
"Get down!" he whispered to Tebbers, who didn't seem to realize what was going on. "Be quiet while we see who's comin'."
They waited, not sure what to expect, but as the oncoming riders rounded a bend in the trail, they could clearly see Carp and four of his men.
"What do we do? They might be on the way to the old farm." Tebbers was getting nervous about the whole deal now, but Chester wasn't about to back down, even if he didn't have much of a plan.
"There's too many of them for us to take on. We 'll just follow and see where they go." It was the best he could come up with for now.
Fortunately the riders had been so noisy that the two men hiding beside the trail had been warned of their approach. Once they had passed, Chester got back on his horse and told Tebbers to do the same. He remembered how Mr. Dillon often said that all a posse did was make a lot of noise and raise a lot of dust. Now he saw the truth behind that. Fortunately this time it had worked in his favor.
Chester tried to stay far enough behind Carp and his men so that the winding trail, the bushes, and the small trees situated along the banks of the Arkansas River would hide them. He was holding his breath, hoping that the group ahead would keep going straight and not turn off on the small side trail that lead to the derelict farm. Carp slowed and Chester watched anxiously. Most of the trail to the farm was overgrown, and unless someone knew of its existence, it would not be easily seen. He felt himself holding his breath, then let it out in exasperation. The men he was following had stopped. There was a lot of talking going on, but Chester was too far back to hear the conversation. One of Carp's men jumped down from his horse and examined the ground for tracks. Fortunately by the time he thought to do that, it was impossible to tell those made by the self-appointed sheriff and his henchmen from any that were left behind earlier by Chester and his friends. For a moment it looked like they were going to continue along by the river, but then Carp suddenly changed his mind. He took three of his hired killers and headed towards the cabin, indicating that the other two men should go straight on.
"We can't leave Miss Fleur and Mr. Dillon to face those four alone. We'll have to be careful now." Chester spoke in a hoarse whisper as he laid the reins against his horse's neck and turned to follow the three men along the track that led away from the river.
Tebbers looked a little doubtful but fell in line. Fortunately the track - which had never been any wider than a cart - had become overgrown in the years since it had been used regularly. That meant progress was slow for the men ahead, but also that there was plenty of cover for the two riders following behind. Even Chester could see signs that the path had been used recently - the marshal's assistant blamed himself for not being more careful when they had come this way. He'd made no attempt to hide their tracks, and even without getting off his horse, he could see the broken twigs and flattened grasses they had left, as clear as sign posts. He was still uncertain what he would do when they reached the disused farm house. He thought about challenging Carp out here in the open, but any gunfire would attract the others who had continued along the main trail. He felt a strange knot in the pit of his stomach as he watched Carp get closer and closer to the dilapidated building ahead. Soon he would see it easily through the sparse bushes that had managed to regain a foot-hold on life in the years since the previous homesteader had moved on. He was certain Mr. Dillon would know what to do, but for the life of him he couldn't come up with a plan. He just kept following, hoping there would be some opportunity he could take.
()()()
Matt slowly opened his eyes, knowing he had been dozing on and off.
"How long have I been asleep?"
Fleur came running at the sound of his voice.
"Just a couple of hours, Matt, " she replied.
"Help me up." He lifted his right hand towards her and she readily obliged - there was still a possibility that this man might be interested in her.
Matt got stiffly to his feet and, retrieving his gun from the floor where Chester had left it, he managed to get to the window located on one side of the front door.
"Bring that chair over here, Fleur." He indicated what he wanted. She hurried to comply and set the chair so he could remain seated and still keep watch through the opening. He could see the track leading up to the shack where Fleur and he were waiting. He felt a little better now, but knew that any sudden movement would start his ribs hurting all over again.
"Hugh and Chester should have made it back to Great Bend by now, Matt," she volunteered, but found that making small talk with this man was not easy. He just gave a noncommittal grunt in reply.
At first he wasn't sure if he had actually seen anything, but it happened again. There was movement back down the track and it was coming closer. He could see a vague column of dust, little more than a wisp at first, but now it was definitely a steady cloud. He doubted that it was Chester returning, so the only other possibility was that it was Carp and his hired killers. His first instinct was to leave the shack and hide outside, that way he could come up behind them and have the advantage. However, because of the shape he was in, he didn't think he could move fast enough for that. If it came to a showdown, he was determined he was going to take Carp down and as many of his men as possible. He worried about Fleur though. There wasn't anywhere for her to hide, and already it was too late for her to make a run for cover outside. He could see the men now. Only four of them. He could handle that, but he worried about the woman, after all she was here because she was trying to help him.
"Fleur!" he said urgently, 'Get back behind the door and stay hidden."
With an effort he got to his feet and squared his shoulders. He threw the door open just as Carp and his men dismounted and began to walk towards the shack. He pointed his gun directly at Carp. It would be a stand off, but it was the only hope he had.
"Hold it right there!" he called out to them. "Any of you move, and I'll put a bullet in your boss."
The men seemed stunned for a moment, then Carp began to laugh.
"What do you think you can do, Marshal? One man against four? You don't stand a hope. If you pull that trigger, my men will kill you for sure."
"But I'll kill you first, Carp, and before I go down I will take at least two of your men with me."
Carp began to move forward.
"That's far enough, Carp. The rest of you men need to get on your horses and head back to town."
Carp was still moving towards him, step by step, but the three hired hands stood still, uncertain of what they should do.
"You're under arrest Carp, hand over your gun." Matt was feeling the strain of standing now, his ribs were starting to hurt again, but he couldn't let it show. If he was able, he would have stepped forward and grabbed the pistol that was still in Carp's holster. Reluctantly he admitted to himself that he wouldn't make it that far. He hated to kill a man, even a man like Carp,without giving him a chance to draw. Each time he had to shoot to kill, it hurt him inside, but now he had little choice. Carp was coming towards him, step by step. It was now or never. He was out of options and dizziness was beginning to overtake his struggle to remain upright. Vaguely he became aware of laughter - not a pleasant sound - he knew it was Carp. There was nothing he could do about it. Carefully he reached for one of the supports holding up the roof of the porch and tried to gather his failing senses. He hated it to end this way. A little coward like Carp. He felt himself sliding slowly towards the ground, and he had no strength left to stop it.
TBC