Chapter 10

Things rocked along pretty quietly until our department got its first telephone. Man, that was a revelation! Some of them were good and some were not so good. The worst problem was that Sheriff Williams could now receive calls directly from the governor's office. Previously, all of the contact had been by mail, and Henry could put off acting for a few days if he wanted to. However, now he was hooked because he was actually talking to one of the governor's aides, and that often required that he act that same day, if not immediately.

The other calls were from people reporting criminal activity. Mostly, they were town marshals, but some of the calls came directly from citizens. These were the calls that got immediate action from me, and I put a lot of miles on my pickup checking these out. Sometimes, this meant that I was very late getting home, and that made Mary very uncomfortable not knowing what I might be doing.

Meanwhile, individuals were getting telephones if they were close enough to the trunk lines or were in towns that already had service up and down the street. On a couple of occasions, we got complaints from our customers because they could not get to us in a timely manner to change their meat orders. That also made us unhappy because it was usually a change for more meat in a particular delivery. Finally, enough was enough, and Mary ordered a telephone for our house. Of course, we were on a party line. Our phone number was 20J, and our signal to pick up the phone was two rings, a pause, and two more rings.

There were two other homes that shared the line with us, the Hansons and the Jensons at 20L and 20P. It was up to the Central operator to keep things straight. At first, we only had service from 7:00 AM to 7:00 PM because there was only one operator, Amy Watson. It was up to her to make sure that the ring-signals were correct for each call. Amy was located at the Winslow exchange, so we were carried on the Winslow listing, and it was a long-distance call to Baker and vice versa.

Usually, I called home from my office whenever I was going out on a job so that Mary would know where I was and how long I expected to be tied up. That went a long way to easing Mary's mind and making life easier for both of us. If my plans changed, I called Mary again to tell her of the change. Sometimes, I couldn't get through for one reason or another, but that was a very rare problem.

I also used my home telephone to call the sheriff's office whenever I was not coming into the office. That was a great convenience, and I could have used that practically from day one of being a deputy, especially in the winter before I got the use of the pickup. On the mornings that I didn't go into my office in Baker, I also called Sheriff Williams' home to tell him that I would not be able to pick him up for the ride into the office. That was rare, but it did happen.

One day, there was a telephone call to my home just before I left for Baker. "Hello, Jack Allgood speaking."

"Jack, thank God I caught you before you left. This is Henry Williams. You are needed right away in Hopkins. Their bank was robbed last night, and the marshal just now called me. The night guard was shot dead, and the vault was blown open with what probably was nitroglycerine. There were car tire tracks in the dust in the alley behind the bank. I have called the state lab to send someone there to try to make plaster casts of the tire tracks and the footprints that were found.

"Anyway, there have been no other motor vehicles in Hopkins for over a month, so it is hoped that you can follow the tracks with your truck and arrest the bandits. Please get on it right away."

"Okay, Sheriff. I'll leave here for Hopkins within five minutes. The truck is fully gassed up and so is the spare tank in the rear. That gives me enough gas for a long chase if I need it. I'll call you when I have something to report."

"That's good, Jack. Be careful, the tracks make it look like four men were involved in the robbery. Good luck. Goodby."

"Goodby, Sheriff." I hung up and ran to tell Mary where and why I was going. Just to be sure that I was well covered, I dropped a handful of .45 cartridges in one pocked and a handful of buckshot shells in the other pocket. I whistled for Calvin and loaded him into the cab with me. I was going to be driving too fast to leave him loose on the truck bed.

I cranked the engine and took off for Hopkins as fast as I could drive. Fortunately, we had gotten a light rain two days before, so there was little dust to bother me as I drove. I got to Hopkins in only a little more than an hour, and I drove to the jail. There, I got the word that the marshal was at the bank what had been robbed, so I jumped back into the truck and drove there.

I parked in front of the bank so that I wouldn't mess up the tire track evidence. The marshal was waiting for me and the lab people out front, so I had no trouble finding him. He led me around back, and I got a good look at the tire tracks and the footprints. Those tire tracks looked odd to me, and the marshal said that they were from an Oldsmobile "Limited." The Limited was a very rare car, but it was more than twice as fast as my Model T pickup, so I had no chance in a direct chase. All I could do was follow it if I could find it, but it sure would be easy to spot. Those unique tire tracks would be a big help in following it where other vehicles had been.

I spent no more than 15 minutes in Hopkins before taking off after the bandits. The tire tracks were so clear in the dirt of the road that I could follow them while driving at full speed. The road soon became bumpy enough that the Limited must have had to slow down. I didn't, but Calvin had trouble staying on the seat because of all of the bouncing around.

I had gone about 25 miles when I saw the tire tracks veer off the main road to follow a back road leading off into the woods. I knew enough of the county roads that I knew that this road led to some farms, some of which were abandoned, and it did not go directly to any towns. To me, that was proof that the bandits were headed for a hideout.

I drove six miles on this back road until I came to a wide path that the Limited had turned into. I actually drove past the turnoff and discovered my error when the track disappeared. I backed up and found the tracks did turn onto this wide path.

Okay, this was the time for caution instead of speed. I drove at only about 5 MPH along the path until I saw an abandoned house among some trees. I figured that the house was abandoned because of the mess of tall weeds and broken limbs in the front yard. Not even the laziest man in the world would let his front yard become that much of a mess, especially if he were married.

I parked my truck so that it was out of sight of the house and blocked the path. I had the ignition key in my pocket, so the only way to move the truck out of the way was to push it, and I couldn't see escaping crooks doing that. I took Calvin and my shotgun with me as I sneaked toward the house. Aha! There it was! I could see the Limited parked beside the house.

As one would expect, nobody was in the car, so they should be inside the house, either sleeping or counting the stolen money. Calvin and I crept up onto the veranda toward the front door. It was open a crack as if to get a little ventilation, so we had no trouble getting inside the house.

I slipped off my boots so that I would make less noise as I walked, and I slung my shotgun over my back. I drew my automatic and moved the hammer to full cock. Calvin and I checked all of the rooms on the ground floor and found them to be empty. The only other place to look was upstairs in the bedrooms. Calvin and I went up the stairs as quietly as we could and found a hallway with four doors opening off it. There was some furniture in the hall, and all of the doors opened inward to the bedrooms. That was perfect for me.

Working slowly and carefully, I put a chair across each door and fastened the doorknob to the chair with handcuffs. That way, nobody was going to come into the hall without me knowing about it. One door had been left unblocked, and that was the one I chose to open first.

Inside, I saw a bed with some springs on it, but no mattress. Instead, some papers had been strewn across the springs to make them a little more comfortable. A fully dressed man, except for his shoes, was sleeping on the bed. There was a shotgun beside the man on the bed and I could see the handle of a revolver sticking out of his waistband.

I crept up to the bed and stuck the muzzle of my automatic against his belly and snatched the revolver from his waistband at the same time. He woke up at that, but I said, "Keep quiet and you might live through this. You are under arrest for bank robbery and murder, and I will shoot you where it will hurt the most if you give me trouble."

He looked at me and obviously felt the muzzle poking him in the gut, so he didn't move, nor did he say anything. I fastened his hands to the brass head of the bed and said, "This here dog is going to stay here with you. He is a killer and would like nothing better than an excuse to rip your throat out. Don't give him any trouble and you will probably live." One good look at Calvin, and real fear showed up in the man's eyes.

"Calvin, guard!" was all I said as I moved the guns off the bed and searched the man for more weapons before I left the room to make the next arrest.

Dammit, I made too much noise when I removed the handcuffs and chair from in front of the door of the next bedroom. Suddenly, there was the boom of a shotgun being fired, and a section of the door about head-high was blasted into the hall. Fortunately, I was bent over so that the buckshot all went over my head, but I would have been up shit creek without a paddle if I had been standing up straight.

I had holstered my pistol, but I drew it when that shot rang out. Okay, that was the end of subtlety. I looked through the hole in the door and saw the man in there holding a shotgun while kneeling on the bed. He spotted me and fired again, but I had jumped back just before he pulled the trigger. He was using a double-barrel shotgun, so I had a moment while he reloaded. That was all I needed. I poked my .45 through the hole in the door and fired four shots at him.

At that moment, I didn't know how many bullets had struck the target, but enough had because the next time I looked, he was sprawled on the bed and the shotgun was on the floor. This time, I made no effort to keep quiet and just removed the 'cuffs and chair before opening the door and entering the room. I still had three shots left in my gun, so I didn't think that reloading was necessary at this point. Of course, I realize now that I had made a stupid mistake, but I guess that I was one of those people who had to learn the hard way.