“I’m taking you back to jail,” Kyle said.
“There’s two of us and only one of you. Plus, it’s a long way back. How do you plan to do that?”
“That’s not your problem,” Kyle replied.
“You’ll never get us back.”
“Oh, I’ll get you back, all right,” Kyle said. “Either sitting in your saddle, or draped over it.”
When Kyle and his two prisoners rode into Sentinel two days later, the two riders were handcuffed and connected to each other by a rope. They stopped in front of the marshal’s office.
“Get down,” he said.
“It ain’t goin’ to be all that easy, what with us bein’ handcuffed and tied together with a rope,” Simmons said.
“I’ll help,” Kyle said, giving Simmons a shove. The outlaw fell from his saddle and rolled on the ground.
“You need help, too?” Kyle asked the other prisoner.
“No, I can get down on my own,” Taylor said, dismounting quickly.
Kyle herded them into the office. “Back there,” he said, pointing toward the cells at the back of the building.
“Say, Marshal, I’m gettin’ a little hungry here,” Taylor said. “What time do you serve supper?”
“I’ll bring you a biscuit and bacon,” Kyle said as put them into the cell, then closed the door and locked it. “Stick your hands through the bars.”
“Can’t get through, what with these handcuffs.”
“Hold one hand on top of the other, you can do it.”
The prisoners complied and Kyle removed their handcuffs, then hung them on a hook.
“You boys behave yourselves,” he said. “I’m going to get a beer.”
“Hey, Marshal, when you bring back them biscuits, you reckon you could bring us a beer?” Simmons asked. He laughed out loud.
“That’s real funny, Simmons,” Kyle said as he left.
When Kyle opened the door to the Ox Bow Saloon a couple of minutes later, he saw his deputy, Boomer Foley, sitting at a table with Sally Fontaine, the saloon owner. Boomer was a slender man, almost skinny, but appearances were deceiving. Kyle had seen Boomer in action, and he was more than able to handle himself.
Sally was a very attractive auburn-haired woman in her late thirties. She was a widow who had inherited the saloon when her husband was shot and killed by a drunken patron. Most expected Sally to sell the saloon and go back to Virginia where her father had once been a United States Congressman. They were surprised when she announced her intention of remaining in Sentinel to run the Ox Bow. Few thought she would succeed, but it was now three years since Marty Fontaine was killed, and the Ox Bow had not only survived, it did a thriving business.
“Marshal, welcome back,” Boomer said, smiling broadly. “Come over here and join us. We was just talkin’ about Doc Presnell, wonderin’ what kind of a trip he had.”
“Is Doc back?” Kyle asked.
“Not yet. He’s coming in on the seven-thirty train tonight,” Sally said.
“Where did he go again?” Kyle asked.
“Don’t you remember? He was in St. Louis attending some medical conference,” Sally said.
“Doc’s not the only one on the train tonight,” Boomer said.
“What do you mean?”
Boomer pulled a telegram from his pocket. “We got this from the marshal back in Purgatory. I reckon he sent it to every lawman between Purgatory and Yuma.” He handed the page to Kyle.
ATTENTION ALL LAW OFFICERS STOP PLEASE BE ADVISED THAT PRISONER MATT JENSEN WILL BE IN CUSTODY ON TONIGHT’S TRAIN TO YUMA STOP JENSEN HAS BEEN TRIED FOR MURDER CONVICTED AND SENTENCED TO BE HANGED STOP MARSHAL ANDREW CUMMINS
“You sure that’s tonight’s train?” Kyle asked after he read the telegram.
“Yes, sir, I’m sure. We got the telegram this afternoon.”
“That’s funny,” Kyle said. “I haven’t heard of any murder trial being conducted back in Purgatory.”
“Could be that it happened while you was gone,” Boomer said. “Don’t forget, you been gone for a few days now.”
“Still, that seems awfully fast to have a murder, hold a trial, then sentence a man,” Kyle said.
“Do you know this here Marshal Cummins?”
“Only by reputation,” Kyle replied. “I’ve heard that he is a pretty domineering sort.” Kyle sighed. “But, if he is the man the people of Purgatory want, who am I to question them?” Kyle turned to Sally and smiled. “I heard a rumor that a man could get a beer in this place if he knew the right people.”
Sally laughed out loud. “Fred?” she called over to the bartender. “Bring Marshal Kyle a beer.”
“Yes, ma’am, Miss Sally,” Fred answered.
“I take it that was Taylor and Simmons I seen you ridin’ in with a few minutes ago,” Boomer said
“Yes,” Kyle answered.
“Did you have a hard time trackin’ ’em?”
“Wasn’t hard at all,” he said. “Once I saw that they were going southwest from Sentinel, I knew there was only one place they could go.”
“The monastery?” Boomer asked.
Kyle nodded. “The monastery.”
Boomer chuckled. “If any of them outlaws ever get a lick of sense about ’em, this law business would be a lot harder,” he said. “You think they didn’t have any idea you’d know exactly where they would be—where they would have to be?”
“I’m not sure they even thought about it.”
“You’ll be chargin’ ’em with robbin’ that stagecoach, right?”
“Yes. But I’m also sure they took part in that bank robbery up in Wickenburg,” Kyle said. “So I’m hoping they’ll shed some light on where to find Cletus Odom.”
“Ben, do you actually think these two men will tell you anything about Odom?” Sally asked.
“I think so,” Kyle said. “As far as I know, neither Taylor nor Simmons have ever done murder. That is, until the attempted bank robbery in Wickenburg.”
“I thought all the witnesses said it was Odom who shot him,” Boomer said.
“That’s right,” Kyle agreed. “But just by being there, that makes Taylor and Simmons every bit as guilty as Odom. I want them to know that, because then I’ll offer them a deal. It could be that if they think they are facing a hanging, they may turn on Odom to save their hides.”
“I’d sure love to get Odom,” Boomer said. “He’s one evil son of a bitch. Oh, beg pardon, Miss Sally, I’m sorry ’bout that.”
Sally laughed. “No need to apologize for telling the truth.”
“Yes, ma’am, but I hadn’t ought to have used language like that in front of a lady.”
“Boomer, I run a saloon,” Sally said. “Believe me, there’s very little I haven’t heard.” She turned to Marshal Kyle. “Have you had your supper, Ben?” She asked.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Would you like to join me for supper down at Del Monte’s? My treat.”
“Well, now, how could I pass up an offer like that?” Kyle replied. “Boomer, how about getting a couple of biscuit-and-bacon sandwiches to take to our prisoners?”
“All right,” Boomer said. “Then I’ll make the rounds, but I plan to be down to the depot to meet the train when it gets in. Are you two goin’ to be there?”
Sally and Kyle exchanged a smiling glance.
“We may, and we may not,” Kyle said.
“Well, you’ll want to greet Doc, won’t you? I mean, he’s been gone for the better part of a month,” Boomer said. Then, seeing the way the two were looking at each other, he stopped in mid-sentence. “Uh—’course if you’re not there to meet him, it won’t really matter none. I’ll bring Doc down for a drink if he wants one.”
“You do that, Boomer,” Sally said. “And tell Fred that anything you and Doc drink tonight will be on me.”
“Well, Miss Sally, that’s just real nice of you now,” Boomer said, beaming at the offer.
As the train to Yuma hurtled across the desert, Deputy Hayes walked over to the door of the express car and slid it open. When he did so, the wind caused several papers to fly around inside the car.