The sun was setting; casting a purple glow on a low hill south of the mining camp called Wells Castle. There were forty-six graves on the hill.....only six had died of natural causes. The others suffered the usual fate of those following the booms and busts of most frontier towns. Shootings, knifings, and even two poisonings. Wells Castle was a young town born in the heat of the New Mexico sun. Rough and rowdy as these places are apt to be. Killings were a nightly occurrence. Four thousand people inhabited wells castle, three thousand were there to cheat, steal, and swindle the other thousand. Fourteen saloons and four hotels lined the main street, with a smattering of livery stables, stores and an assayer office. There was no jail in Wells Castle. With out a marshal there was no need. Lawlessness was the order of the day. Until the day Tyrel Sackett rode in to town on his strawberry roan.
Tyrel Sackett rode into Wells Castle in a driving rain. He did not take the usual trails into town but came from the north side following little known trails into the outskirts of town. Shacks, cabins and tents lay scattered in no usual manner as he walked the roan though to the back of the Branch Water saloon.
He was to meet his employer here and get the final details of the job he must accomplish. He had been on his ranch in Mora when he had received a letter from an old friend asking him to come to Wells Castle. The letter discussed the details briefly of the situation in the town. There was a drought on and the ranch could be doing better, so the $1,000 offered could hardly be turned down. Five days later he rode into Wells Castle.
He Left the Roan in the over hang of the building used to keep firewood dry and mounted the steps to the back door. The knob turned easy under his hand and he stepped in out of the rain and in to the darkness of the storeroom of the Branch Water. Letting his eyes adjust to the darkness he listened to the sounds coming from the bar. Slipping the thong off the hammer of his Colt he loosened the gun in its holster. He had been warned in the letter to be careful, that they would know of his coming and there would no doubt be attempts made on his life. That was nothing new to Sackett. Danger was all he had known since leaving Tennessee those long years ago. When he was a boy his family had had an on going feud with the Higgenses over on the next mountain, his brother Tell had killed the last one just before he had left to come west. Now all these years later he had brought his mother out from Tennessee so she could live the remainder of her years in comfort and not die in poverty on that hillside dirt farm up in Tennessee. His brother Orrin was a senator now and last he'd heard Tell was up in Montana. Stepping to the doorway he moved the curtain back enough to allow him a view of the main room. Evening was approaching and the place was full. Men were stacked three deep at the bar. In the corner a piano player banged out a tin panny tune that was barely audible above the crowd. The sound of laughter, glasses, poker chips and the smell of whiskey and tobacco filled the room. A bar ran the length of the room, at the end there was a door leading to an office. Stepping from the door where he had been concealed he took three long strides to the bar and disappeared in to the office. A man looked up from behind a desk, the shocked expression turning quickly to a smile as he recognized the man in the slicker.
"Tyrel you made it!" He exclaimed.
"How are you Boone?" Tyrel asked as he reached for Boones extended hand.
"well considering the circumstances I am alive so I guess I should be thankful for that." He answered.
"That bad?" Sackett asked.
"Tyrel my letter was very sketchy I know, and I apologize for that, but the situation here is coming to a head and I need help. I bought this land from a man named Murphy Wells. The whole valley. He had found some color in the creek south of here and word got out. So instead of fighting the whole damn world I decided to sell some claims. I also laid out some plots for a town and started selling those too. Keeping what I thought were the best claims for myself, I also kept a plot for the branch water. Things were going well for a while the town was prospering as more and more gold was discovered. Yes it was going though the growth pains any town suffers in the beginning but it was growing! Then the King boys showed up. Excuse me for a moment Ty." Boone rose from his seat and went to the door that led to the saloon. "Mac!" He yelled at the bar tender " I need a bottle, two glasses and two plates, beef and beans." The bartender nodded and disappeared in to the kitchen.
"I am sorry Ty, I don't mean to be inhospitable I know you have had a long ride. Now where was I ?" "oh yes. Ty those King boys are poison mean! And that Jess! I think he enjoys killing! The other night he was on the prod with this miner, just wouldn't leave him alone! Jess offered to buy him a drink and the miner thinking everything was alright ordered a beer and Jess shot him, said " no man drinks beer with me I don't like beer!" He's got two other brothers, just as mean and they got control of this town Ty, they got it hogtied."
There was a knock on the door and the big Irish bartender entered and set two plates with thick slabs of beef and refried beans on the desk, leaving a bottle of brandy he closed the door behind him.
"Who can you trust?" Sackett asked as Boone poured the Brandy in to the glasses Mac had brought.
"Not many, Ty, except maybe Mac, he's a good man. Been here since the beginning. There are some honest men in town, but there scared. We got together three weeks ago and decided enough was enough, so I sent for you. You will be acting in the behalf of the town council as a marshal, it will all be legal Ty."
Tyrel Sackett started on the steak. He had forgotten how hungry he was, and ate quickly. The ride from Mora had been long and there hadn't been much time for anything else but the trail.
"They'll be here tonight Ty." Boone said in between bites.
Boone reached in to the drawer and pulled out a badge and slid it across the desk to Sackett.
"Well Ty, will you help?" Boone asked with a pleading tone in his voice.
Sackett set down the fork and picked up the badge and pinned it to vest. "You're a friend Boone, and besides the pay aint bad either." He smiled and picked up the fork and finished the beans. Leaning back in his chair Tyrel Sackett looked thoughtfully into the glass of brandy. This town was not new to him. Many towns like Wells Castle had come and gone during his years on the frontier. Born in the heat of greed and dying in a hail of gunfire, leaving only a few gray and weathered buildings and scattered bones to tell the tale of those who had come before.
"Boone I need to stable my horse and get a room." Sackett said.
"The room is taken care of, go get your horse and when you come back I will show you to your room."
Outside the roan waited Patiently as Sackett pulled the tether loose and led it to the livery stable next door. The horse rolled its eyes at him as he stripped the saddle from the horse and rubbed him down with a hand full of hay. Leaving the Roan with some corn, He picked up his duffle and rifle and started for the door. Suddenly from out of the shadows a burst of flame exploded and splinters of wood stung his face where the bullet had hit the post next to his head! Only his stooping to pick up his rifle had saved his life. Dropping the duffle he let go with two quick shots in the direction of the flame and took two quick steps in to the deeper shadows of the stable and waited. He could hear the labored breathing of the man in the corner, one of his shots must have scored, still he did not move ,the first man to move was most often the first to die. After a few minutes had past, the breathing had become almost inaudible and the man finally let go with a groan and a heavy sigh. The man was dead. With his gun ready he walked over to the man and struck a match, holding it to his face the light fell on a young man who had been shot in the chest. He was leaning against the wall with his eyes open and his out stretched hand held a navy colt with limp and cold fingers. He was not anyone Sackett recognized. Leaving the stable he headed back to the hotel. So it had begun. Inside Boone led him upstairs to his room it wasn't until they were inside that Sackett told Boone of the attack in the stable, After giving him a description of the man, Boone sat down hard on the bed.
"Ty, that was Lonnie King, Jess's kid brother, You will have to kill him now, He wont stop until one of you are dead." Boone said
Suddenly from down in the saloon there was a sudden burst of gunfire. And a man screamed out and then there was silence.
Tyrel Sackett stepped out into the hall and walked to the head of the stairs. Looking down into the saloon a crowd was gathered around a man sprawled on the floor, a pool of blood forming underneath him.
Sackett descended the stairs and made his way through the crowd to the dead man and kneeled beside him. Shot in the chest at point blank range he had died almost instantly.
"you all saw it, it was self-defense!" a booming voice from the bar "He drew on me! I had no choice!"
As Sackett stood up the crowd parted, and the big man at the bar looked from the badge to the colt hanging low on his right hip.
"Oh we got ourselves a marshal now!" He laughed.
Boone walked over and leaned in "That's Joe King, Jesse's other brother he's killed men with those fists of his!" He warned.
"Joe I need your Gun until I can find out if this was a fair shooting or not." Sackett said.
The big man let out a roar of laughter. "It don't matter marshal, you aint gonna last the night anyway." He said. "Besides I aint gonna give my guns to no two bit drifter just because he got himself a tin star. You shouldn't have let Boone talk you into this mister no matter how good the money is, He's just gonna get you killed!"
Sackett took a step forward "you'll give me the guns or I'll take 'em Joe. Hard or easy it doesn't make any difference to me!"
With a sudden lunge the big man came off the bar and took a wide swing at Sackett, stepping inside the swing he slammed an upper cut into the jaw of the rushing gunman that shook him to his heels. Falling backward into the bar King grabbed a bottle and hurled it at Sackett's head, slipping to one side the bottle missed by inches. Once more King rushed and this time caught Sackett coming in with a blow to the head that staggered him. Ducking and slugging the two men fought. King swung wide and missed, taking a glancing blow from the stabbing left of Sackett. Sackett followed with a right to the gut that almost made Kings knees buckle. The big man staggered back and Sackett landed a jolting uppercut that put the big man on the floor unconscious.
That's the damnedest thing I have seen I didn't think anyone could whip Joe King!" Boone said as he handed Sackett a towel. His left eye was swollen a little and his ribs were sore but other than that he thought he was alright. He flexed his fingers making sure they were loose and uninjured, he may need them at any moment.
"I need shackles Boone." Sackett said
"I have some in the office, I ordered them with the badge."
Boone disappeared into the office and reappeared seconds later with the restraints, Taking them from Boone he grabbed Joe King by the collar and dragged him out to the hitching rail in front of the Branch Water. Locking the still unconscious man to the post he removed the guns from the holsters and stepped back inside. The room was quiet as he stepped to the bar and handed the guns to Mac.
"Put these back there would you." he asked.
"Your Just gonna leave him out there in the rain and the Mud? Boone asked.
"Until you get a jail, it will have to do, wont it? Sackett replied.
A few minutes passed and all of Wells Castle was talking about the beating the new marshal had given Joe King and waiting for the reaction of his brother Jess.
Jess king was sitting in a big hide chair in the lobby of the Castle palace hotel when the door burst open and a man ran up to him coming to a stop throwing water from his slicker on to the sitting man. He threw an irritated glance at the man.
"What is it Foss?" He said angrily.
"Jess, they got Joe locked up in front of the Branch Water." He said nervously.
What do you mean locked up? And who's they?"
"That new marshal Boone brought in asked Joe for his guns and when Joe wouldn't give 'em he gave him a beating and then locked him to the hitching post outside in the rain." he Explained.
"Boone got his self a marshal did he! Who is it?"
"I aint sure Jess, some one told me it was Tyrel Sackett. But I aint never seen Sackett's face before so I aint sure." Foss answered.
Tyrel Sackett! The Mora gunfighter! He knew Boone had been talking about bringing someone in. There had even been rumors of a letter. That's why he had had Lonnie watching all the trails keeping an eye open for any strangers meeting with Boone. Where was Lonnie anyway? He was supposed to meet him here an hour ago. Why hadn't he let him know the marshal was here. No matter, he would deal with that later, for now he had to go get his brother and take care of this marshal. Slipping in to his coat he stepped out on to the walk and put his hat on, looking down the street towards the Branch Water saloon he could see a crowd gathered in front of the livery stable. Stepping off the walk he sloshed the forty yards in the mud to the front of the barn.
"What's going on?" King asked.
"They's some one shot up in there." the man said.
"who?" King asked.
"Don't know." The man answered.
From inside they heard a voice yell out; "Its Lonnie king!"
Jess King shoved his way through the crowd and pushed the man standing over his brothers body aside. It was Lonnie alright. Stupid kid, he thought to himself, that marshal showed up and he tried to take him himself. Well that marshal would pay for this, and when he was done he would deal with Boone also. Jess King shoved his way out of the stable and headed for the Branch Water. There in front was His brother Joe just coming too.
"You stupid fool!" He yelled at Joe "your brothers dead!" He added angrily "and you're out here locked up with the damn horses!"
He mounted the steps and exploded through the door. The room fell silent as he looked around. The crowd parted when a voice said; "you looking for me Jess?"
Tyrel Sackett stood at the end of the bar, waiting.
"you killed my brother!" King yelled
"He shot at me from the darkness, Jess," "like a coward." He added.
"I'll kill you!" He shouted and his hand dropped for his gun!
He had just gotten the barrel clear of the holster when the first slug hit him and spun him half around.
He tried to bring the gun up but his arm had grown heavy and he couldn't quite get it on target, he was lifting the gun when the second slug hit him and drove him too his knees.
Jess king died there on the floor of the Branch Water saloon , like most men of his kind, with a gun in his hand and blood staining the floor beneath. His kind know no other way but the violent and bloody trails.
The sun was setting , casting a purple glow on a low hill south of the mining camp called Wells Castle.
There were forty eight graves on the hill........only six had died off natural causes.
THE END.