William Johnstone - Snake River Slaughter

That was when he saw them.

Four of his men were sitting in chairs in the lobby. Their chairs were arranged in a square, as if the four were engaged in a friendly game of cards. But there were no cards, and there was no card table. There were just the four men, setting in a square, looking at each other.

“What are you men doing here, just sitting in the dark?” he asked with a little chuckle. “Did they run you out of the saloon?”

When not one of the four answered, he started over toward them. “You men aren’t very—uhnn!” he shouted, and he jumped back as the hair suddenly stood up on the back of his neck. All four men were dead!

After he caught his breath, he moved close enough to identify them. The four men were Garrison, Edwards, Reid, and Kennison. These were the same four men he had left to guard the horses.

“Scraggs!” Sherman yelled at the top of his lungs. He ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

“Scraggs!” he yelled again. “Grimes! Schneider! Anderson? Anybody?”

Nobody answered his calls, and he moved down the hallway, opening every door and looking inside. Then, deciding they must all be over at the saloon, he ran back downstairs and trotted up the street to the saloon.

Celebrating the fact that they had taken the five hundred horses without any problems, the posse members were quite animated tonight. As a result, the saloon was more lively, the piano was playing, and the men of the posse were laughing and engaging in loud conversation. However, their presence still seemed to intimidate the rest of the town though, because there were very few in the saloon, other than his men.

“Scraggs, damn it!” Sherman shouted as soon as he stepped into the saloon. “What the hell happened?”

Sherman’s voice was so loud and angry that it brought everything to a halt, the laughter and conversation, and even the piano music. Everyone in the saloon stared at Sherman in curiosity.

“What are you talking about, Colonel?” Scraggs asked, clearly confused by the outburst.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” Sherman replied, still shouting at the top of his voice. He pointed toward the hotel. “They are down there now, just sitting in the lobby of the hotel.”

“Who is down there?” Scraggs asked. He still had no idea what was bothering Sherman.

“You know who is down there. I’m talking about Garrison, Edwards, Reid, and Kennison. They are in the lobby. All four of them, just sitting there as plain as you please.”

“What? What the hell did they come back for?” Scraggs asked. “They got no business bein’ back here. They was supposed to stay with the herd until tomorrow. Don’t worry, Colonel, I’ll take care of it.” Scraggs started toward the door.

“How are you going to take care of them?” Sherman asked.

“What do you mean, how am I going to take care of them? I’m going to send their asses back into the field.”

“You can’t do that,” Sherman said.

“Why not?”

“Because, you dumb son of a bitch! They are dead! All four of them are dead!” Sherman screamed.

Chapter Twenty-eight

As soon as Matt and Prew returned from town, Matt mounted Spirit, then rode out to the rifle pits. Tyrone and all the ranch hands except for Crack were gathered around one of the pits, drinking coffee. The fire for the coffee was down in one of the pits so it didn’t show.

“Good idea to keep the fire down there,” Matt said. “Now, you boys know what to do, right? As soon as you see the rocket, get down into your pits. Do you all have rifles?”

“Ever’ one of us,” Tyrone answered.

“Where are you going to be, Matt?” Jake asked.

“I’m going up with Crack. After they pass us by, I’m going to come down behind them.”

“That’s goin’ to be dangerous, isn’t it? I mean if you are behind them, you are likely to be in our line of fire,” Tyrone said.

Matt took out a cigar. “I’m going to be smoking this cigar,” he said. “I’ll be the only one with a glow. Don’t shoot at the glow.”

“Don’t shoot at the glow,” Tyrone repeated, and the others laughed.

“Are you sure they’re coming tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Matt said. “Prew and I left them a calling card.”

“A calling card?”

Prew laughed out loud. “Wait till I tell you what we did,” he said. “You think we were taking the bodies into the undertaker? Hah! We didn’t do that. No, sir. Not by a long shot did we do that.”

As Matt rode away to join Crack up on the bluff, he heard Prew telling the others the story of how they had taken the bodies into town, then carried them, one at a time, into the hotel lobby.

At the Sand Spur, there were only three customers beside the members of the Peace Officers’ Posse and they had withdrawn into a back corner of the room as Sherman vented his anger with his men. Charley had signaled for the two girls, Jenny and Suzie, to come behind the bar with him, and they stood there watching in stunned silence.

Charley had reached under the bar and wrapped his hand around a double-barreled twelve-gauge shotgun. He hadn’t shown the gun to anyone, and didn’t intend to, except as a last resort.

“Charley, what’s going on? I’m scared,” Jenny said.

“Shh. Hush, girl,” Charley said soothingly. “It’s best we just stay out of this for now.”

“I don’t understand,” Scraggs said. “Who the hell would bring four dead bodies into the hotel and just set them there?”

“Well, I’m just guessing, Scraggs, but I would guess it was the same one who killed them. It was Jensen, you idiot!” Sherman shouted angrily.

“No, they was four of them left guardin’ the horses. There ain’t no way Jensen could’a kilt all four of ’em,” Scraggs said.

“Funny you would say that, Scraggs, seeing as how he braced four of you in the saloon,” Sherman said.

“No now, that wasn’t no way near the same thing and you know it,” Scraggs said. “We was all four of us sittin’ down so as not to be able to get to our guns. Garrison and the others was out in the open.”

“Whether you were in the open, or sitting down, it doesn’t make any difference,” Sherman said. “The man is a devil.”

“Wonder what happened to the horses?”

“I’m sure he took them back. But we’re going to go after them.”

“No, you aren’t,” Marshal Sparks said. He had just come into the saloon and was now standing by the front door.

“What do you mean, no we aren’t?”

“If you go after those horses again, you will be stealing them, not confiscating them,” Marshal Sparks said. He held up a piece of paper. “This is the herd management law you were talking about,” he said. “Without a specific order to the contrary, there is nothing to prevent Kitty Wellington from raising horses on her ranch. And if you actually took horses from her, you are guilty of rustling.”

Inexplicably, Sherman smiled, then he clapped his hands. “Very good, Marshal,” he said. “You found a law book. But my authority comes from the territorial capitol at Boise,” Sherman said. “Which means my authority is greater than yours. So I’m ordering you now, to get out of our way and let us do our duty.”

“And I’m ordering you out of my town,” Marshal Sparks said. “I want you and all your men, out of the hotel now. And that includes the four dead men that are in the lobby. If you leave them here, they’re going be buried in the Potter’s Corner.”

“I don’t take orders from a town marshal,” Sherman said, spewing the words in derision. “Get out of the way, Marshal,” Sherman said.

Marshal Sparks started toward his gun, but that was a fatal mistake. At least three of the Posse already had their guns drawn, and all three of them fired. Jenny and Suzie screamed as Sparks went down.