Chapter 12

Two weeks earlier, when Duncan and Eli had split as they arrived in Tulsa, Duncan felt alone as he rode north toward Kansas. Though he’d been a deputy marshal for over two years when he met Eli, he’d grown to like hid friend so well that he missed his company and the friendship they shared together on their trips into the Territory.

He rode into southern Kansas two days later, after riding late like he and Eli often did when they first met. He wanted to hurry and do his law business, then get back to Fort Smith and see all the new stuff they were adding on.

Duncan made camp by a small creek and in the late evening light, with his firelight, he looked at his papers one more time to get the names right. He knew he was close to the small town where these men were supposed to be.

Hampton Noonan the Third was his name, seems he must be some kind of rich land crook that feeds off poor folk’s misfortunes. Seems he’d taken land from six families according to this paper. He had also filed for ownership south of the Kansas border in Indian Territory and that was what got his name on this warrant. It looks like the town marshal is his father-in-law, they must be in this together.

‘He must’ve never heard of Judge Isaac Parker down in Fort Smith, or he’d have known the Judge wasn’t going to stand for this shit’ Duncan thought as he folded his papers and put them in his saddlebag.

Duncan rode into Parkinsville, Kansas early the next morning. The small town looked like all the stores and buildings were new – just built, in fact.

He rode straight to the town marshal’s office and saw the four young deputies sitting on the front porch of the small, clapboard building.

“Hello fellers, I’m United States Marshal Duncan, out of Fort Smith, Arkansas and I’m looking for the town marshal.”

“He ain’t here,” the deputy on the left end of the bench said.

“Can you tell me where he’s at, or when he’ll be back?”

“Nope, he said not to bother him.”

“Well, I need to see him about some law business. Which one of you is in charge?”

“None of us. We’re his sons and he don’t trust us to be in charge. He told Momma that just yesterday.”

“Just what would be his name, in case I happen to run up on him?”

“Pete Parkins is his name. You ain’t likely to run up on him though, he ain’t here.”

“I know, you just told me that, but I’m gonna be here until I get my business done, so I figured he’d be back soon enough.”

“Nope, said he’d be gone a few days.”

“When did he leave?”

“You sure are nosy, Marshal Duncan,” the youngest boy on the end spoke.

“Not nosy at all, just doin my job. Now when did he leave?”

“Yesterday.”

“Do you know where he was going, and how long he was gonna stay?”

“Said he was gonna ride south with Mr. Noonan and wouldn’t be back for three days.”

“That Mr. Noonan – would that be, Hampton Noonan?”

“Yep, reckon you’ve heard of him have you? He’s a rich man who owns the whole town here. Re-named it after his new wife, he did.”

“His wife’s name was Parkins? She any kin to you?”

“Last name was, before she married him. She’s our baby sister.”

“If they rode south, they must have been going into Indian Territory.”

“Damn, you’re smart as hell, Mr. United States Marshal Duncan,” the younger one spoke again and grinned at his brothers for approval of his quick remark.

“Yep, I’d say I was smart enough to wear this big badge, not a little town marshal badge. See you fellers around.”

“Let’s just whup his fat-ass for him, Earl,” the younger one spoke again as Duncan turned to walk away.

“Naw, we better wait on Pa, he may whip our asses if we beat the shit out of a U.S. Marshal without him telling us to.”

“Yeah, I reckon you’re right. He did thrash our asses for beating the hell outta that sheriff’s deputy last year.”

Duncan figured he may as well get away from this bunch of young’uns with their smart talking mouths. He knew he wasn’t gonna get any truthful straight answers from them now. He walked over to the general store to try and get some better answers. He couldn’t help but wonder what Eli woulda done if he’d run upon those three young, smart mouthed, disrespectful deputies. Hell he knew the answer to that, as soon as he thought it...

Eli woulda took their guns from them and spanked their little smart asses for them and may have even took their curly hair too

There were four men leaning on the counter, talking with the store man, who was standing behind the counter.

“Good morning men, I’m United States Marshal Duncan and I’m looking for the town marshal. Can any of you help me?”

“You should’ve stopped at his office, it’s right across the street,” the store man said and smiled when a couple of the others chuckled.

“I did and all I got was some smart sass from them young deputies over there.”

“Well Marshal Duncan, I reckon we can tell you that our marshal and his son-in-law, Hampton Noonan ‘The Third’, rode down south to see some of Mr. Noonan’s land.”

“Well sir, I reckon that explains a lot then. I’d be thankful if you’d tell me just where this land is. I really need to speak with both of them in a professional manner.”

“You just ride west from the cross road, about a mile to the creek, then turn south and follow that creek. It’ll take you right to them and the land they claim.”

“Good day to you men. You got a right nice little town here. I know you take some pride in it.”

“Well, we just work for Hamp Noonan. He owns the whole town and it’s his to take pride in, but I reckon he takes pride in all that’s his, specially that young wife he just bought.”

Duncan was glad to get back on his horse and ride out of this uppity little town. He knew they all better be glad him and Eli swapped warrants and Eli didn’t come up here.

He’d already have whupped about half of them by now, for smartin off at him.’

Duncan made his turn south after he’d crossed the creek. The trail was wide and well worn, and looked like it was used for herding cattle. He wondered if they were actually grazing cattle in Indian Territory. This would get them another harsh look from Judge Parker, if in fact they were.

So, the marshal’s young daughter is married to this Hampton Noonan. I reckon the good marshal would be inclined to turn his head just a little, if his new son-in-law was to twist the law backwards just a bit. The store man didn’t seem to be that admiring of Hamp Noonan either, adding ‘The Third’ onto his name, like it was sort of a bad remark about the man

Duncan rode for close to five miles and knew he should be near Indian Territory by now. The brushy trees along the west side of the creek cleared into a huge opening with fancy white fences, corrals, barns, and sheds all painted white – with red tin roofs and a big house painted white, with a red roof.

Yep, just what I figured, Duncan thought, as he saw the overhead sign above the wide road leading up to the house and barn. NOONAN – it read in tall red letters on a wide, white painted board.

He looked the place over as he kept on the road by the creek, riding south. He knew he had to be in Indian Territory and was wondering if maybe the house and ranch headquarters were across the border too. The white board fence was still alongside the road for a mile or more, after passing the ranch house and barns.

Duncan stopped his horse dead in his tracks as he looked ahead at another ranch house, this one was still being built and it was another big one, though it wasn’t white with a red roof.

He wanted to check out the place, before riding right into something that may well be built in Indian Territory. He turned his horse and rode back north a ways, then rode out into the brush on the west side of the road, where the white board fence ended. He tied his horse and walked back through the brush, to where he could see the new house and barns. The men were still hammering and sawing, and more men were putting shake shingles on the barn and house.

Duncan was hunkered down, looking the place over, trying to see how many men were working, when he saw a tall, older man and the marshal walk out of the side door of the house. He heard something in the bushes and turned to look behind him. When he turned back, he was staring right face to face with a big ass rattlesnake. He started backing up, crawling backwards on his hands and knees, trying to stay away from the bushes he kept backing into. He backed into something and knew it wasn’t a bush.

He looked over his shoulder and saw two men, just as everything went dark.

“I told you we should’ve whupped his ass back in town, I reckon now you’ll all listen to me,” the youngest Parkins boy said as they looked down at the unconscious deputy.

“You better hope Pa thinks the same way you do. This man is on a case and he’s in Indian Territory. We could get our asses in big trouble with Pa and Hamp,” the older boy told him.

“Well, here comes Pa and Hamp now, we’ll just see who’s right.”

“What’re you boys doing out here? You’re supposed to be back in town.”

“Look what we found snooping on you and Hamp just now. A fat ass U.S. Marshal.”

“Who hit this man? Do you know we could all go to jail for assaulting a U.S. Marshal?”

“It was Larry, Pa. I told him not to. He was even wanting to whup his ass back in town just for asking about you ‘n Hamp.”

“You’re out here with him, you should’ve stopped him. I’m going to beat both your asses for this. You can’t be hitting U.S. Marshals.

“You boys don’t know a damn thing about a damned thing. You hit a marshal and another one comes to take up his cause. You hurt one and there’s more and more. You kill one and they’ll hunt you down like you’re a coyote with chicken feathers in your mouth.

“You best hope this man’s not hurt and he don’t remember who or what hit him. We need to get him back to the house and start telling him he fell off his horse. As fat as he is, he’d kill his self if he did.”

“See Larry, I told you not to do it. You had to go and make a mess of this, just like you mess up all the time,” Joe Parkins told his youngest brother.

“You and Pa will see ... this man was meaning to start trouble with Pa. You’ll see, I just know he was.”

“Shut up your mouth and help me get his lard ass up. We’ll have hell dragging his ass back over to his horse through all this brush.”

“Why don’t we drag his lard ass out here in the open, then go bring his horse over here?

“Smart ass.”

“Then go get all the horses, you’re nothing but a snot nosed kid anyway. You’re too damned young to be out here makin’ out like you’re a lawman.”

“You’ll see, just you wait – you and Pa both will see,” Larry Parkins said, then turned to stomp back through the brush to gather up the three horses.

“Hamp, we got a problem. There’s a U.S. Marshal out here. He was snooping in the bushes out there and my two youngest boys come up on him. That youngest kid of mine whacked him on the back of his head and knocked him cold.”

“What would a U.S. Marshal be looking at us for, Pete?”

“Hell Hamp – we’re building this place for me out here in Indian Territory. Your house and half your land is in Indian Territory. Did you think we could keep all this quiet until we get this place declared a state?”

“Who in the hell would’ve told the law about all this? Surely not the folks in town.”

“What about all those folks you took land from up across the Kansas border? I told you not to be so hard and wait them out. They were about to lose everything anyway.”

“I got tired of waiting. I wanted land and I wanted all their land. Then I wanted all this land here that joins all of it too and I’m willing to kill any son-of-a-bitch that comes here trying to take it all away from me.”

“Settle down some Hamp. We don’t even know why the Marshal was here or what he was looking for.”

“Then we need to look in his saddlebags and on his person. He had to have a reason to be here, they just don’t send marshals to snoop on houses being built.”

“Let’s get back up to your house. I told Larry and Joe to get him back there.”

“Do you think Larry hurt him bad? You said he was out cold.”

“I don’t know, maybe he’s come to by now ... we better hope he has anyway. If we can’t get him awake and sent back to tell whoever sent him that there’s nothing wrong here, they’ll send another one, then another one, until we have this whole place crawling with marshals.”

“Maybe we need to just take him down river a ways and dump his ass in the river and let the turtles and snakes take over.”

“Then what will we do when another one comes and someone in town lets it slip he was here?”

“We tell them he was here, but he left.”

“Let’s go see how bad he’s hurt. Then we can make up our minds what we’ll do with him. I hope you know, if we mess this up, there’ll be more marshals up here than grass.”

“We’re smarter than any damned marshal, Pete. We’ll do it right and we’ll be sure no one talks, too.”

“I reckon you got an answer for building both these ranch headquarters inside Indian Territory too? You got an answer for everything else.”

“There’s no marker on the border, we didn’t know.”

“That won’t work and you know it.”

“Then we’ll make it work and we’ll worry about that when we have to. Let’s go see about this marshal at my house and then we’ll know what we have to do.”

“What did you boys do with that marshal?” Pete asked his two sons as he and Hamp rode up to the barn.

“Got him tied up back there in the barn, that dumb sucker is still asleep,” Larry told his Pa.

“Larry, if that man is hurt too bad to leave here, I’ll have your hide.”

“Aww, Pa. He’s just playin possum and you know it. I didn’t hit him that hard, leastways not as hard as I wanted to anyhow. I thought he was kinda smart with his words back in town, too.”

“If he’s hurt bad, we’ll have U.S. Marshals all over this place, looking for him. Did either of you think to look in his saddlebags?”

“No, we figured you’d want to do that,” Joe lied. They didn’t even think of it.

“Bring them to me then, since neither of you had sense enough to try to find out what he was doing here.”

“Aww Pa,” Larry said.

“Don’t Aww Pa me damn it, you both put together ain’t got the sense God gave a goose.”

“Aww Pa,” Joe said as he handed him the saddlebags.

“Just as I thought, here’s a warrant in his bags. God Damn it, here’s a warrant for the arrest of Hampton Noonan the Third and one for me as an accomplice. Now you two fool kids have done messed up things bad. We could’ve talked our way out of this. We’ll have to really come up with a story now.”

“Maybe he won’t remember anything when he wakes up and we can say we found him wandering around,” Larry said.

“Yeah, tell them he was wandering around out here and found our places here in Indian Territory?” Pete mocked him.

“Yeah, I reckon that wasn’t a good one, but we’ll think of something,” Hamp said, defending Larry.

“Get him some water. Wash his face with it too, don’t just throw it at him,” Pete told his sons.

“You get the damn water, Larry. You’re the one who knocked a knot on his head.”

“You’re the one who wanted to follow him, and then got worried that he was gonna arrest Pa and Hamp.”

“Well, at least I was right. You didn’t have to hit him so hard and you know it. You was just mad cause he talked back after you sassed him in town.”

“Pa don’t take no sass and I was just being like Pa, now shut up and help me.”

After three days, they began to worry about the marshal. He would open his eyes and look around, then go back to sleep. One morning he even drank some water when Joe offered it to him. He started to say something, then went back to sleep.

The fifth day, he woke up and looked around, Joe and Larry were asleep and when Duncan made a noise, they jumped up.

“He’s awake. Joe, the marshal is awake,” Larry said as he shook Joe.

“Hungry,” Duncan said.

“He’s hungry, Joe, he said he was hungry.”

“I heard him, go tell Alma to get him some food,” Joe said.

“Gotta shit,” the marshal said.

“You stay, I’ll get the food. It’s your fault he’s here anyway,” Joe said and ran from the barn.

When Joe came back, Alma and Hamp were with him. Marshal Duncan was sitting with his butt hung across the bottom rail of the horse stall, his hands shackled. He was spraying shit everywhere.

“Damn, he’s got the scours. Larry, you’re cleaning his ass up,” Hamp told him.

Larry got a bucket of water and cleaned Duncan up, bitching and griping the whole time. Duncan drank and ate, then when they laid him back down, he didn’t wake up for four more days.

“Pete, we need to get rid of that marshal. There’s gonna be more come looking for him, you said so yourself,” Hamp said after twelve days.

“Hamp, what have you got in mind? We can’t just bury him out here, they know he came here to look for us and they’ll know we’re still here.”

“Well, we need to think of something, he’s been here almost two weeks and that warrant was from Fort Smith. It’s not two weeks from Fort Smith to here by horseback.”

“I say we kill his horse, bury his saddle and lock him up. Then we can say he wandered in and started talking about being a U.S. Marshal and wanting to arrest both of us. We can say we sent a message to the sheriff over in Dodge and haven’t heard back.”

“Well, that’s the best one I’ve heard yet, Pete. Let’s do it,” Hamp agreed.

“You get them boys to take his horse downriver and kill it, then bury his saddle. I’ll get my men to help you take him to town and lock him up.”

“Now you’re making some sense, the buzzards and coyotes will have that horse carcass picked down to bones in two days.”

“Larry, you and Joe come here.”

“What, Pa?”

“Take the marshal’s horse downriver about ten miles and kill it. Bury his saddle and I’ll take this warrant with me just to be sure it never shows up again,” Pete told his boys.

“Now we’re back in good with Pa again, Joe ... let’s go,” Larry said as Hamp and their Pa walked to the house.

Larry and Joe took the horse down past the new house about a mile and crossed the creek. Joe raised his rifle and shot. He hit the horse’s head with a glancing shot and the horse ran across the creek and fell kicking, trying to get back on his feet.

“Shoot him again, Joe. Shit can’t you hit a fucking horse?” Larry screamed.

Joe shot again and killed Duncan’s horse.

“Why didn’t we take the saddle off before we killed him?” Larry asked.

“Why didn’t you think of it before I shot?”

“Blame me would you? Let’s get this saddle off this dead horse and bury it like Pa said.”

They worked and worked, and finally left the horse and saddle lying next to the creek.

Eli was riding north at a fast gallop when he heard two gunshots in the distance. He stopped his horse and listened, but never heard another shot. He turned west and rode a few hundred yards. When he came to a creek, he stopped his horse to let him drink.

Eli saw a horse lying on the other side of the narrow creek, blood still coming out of the two bullet holes in its head. Eli walked his horse through the shallow creek, his gun in his hand, looking all around. Before he even got close, he saw Duncan’s old black saddle. He knew it was his. He knew Duncan had met harm.

He felt it even before he left Fort Smith.

The cinch was already loosened on the saddle and Eli took Duncan’s rope and tied it to his own saddle. Slowly he nudged his horse to pull, and finally the stirrup slipped from underneath the dead horse’s belly, after dragging him sideways.

Eli tied Duncan’s saddle behind his own, then stepped up, with the saddle held out of the way until he sat his saddle. He tracked Duncan’s horse and two more horses back upstream until he came to a place where he could see men building a new house. He knew he shouldn’t be in Kansas yet.

They were building this house in Indian Territory.

He skirted the house and came back to the trail where he picked up the tracks again. He came upon another house. This one was white, with red roofs on all the buildings. The sign on the overhead entrance read, NOONAN. The three sets of tracks came from Noonan’s barn going south. When the other two horses came back north, they’d been ridden hard, on toward the north.

Eli rode north, he knew he should be coming into Kansas, but had no way of knowing for sure. He followed the tracks on the wide trail where hundreds of cattle had been driven recently. The fresh horses’ tracks were easy to follow, they were the last made through here and they were running fast, kicking up dirt.

When the trail came to an east-west cross-trail, the two horses had crossed the creek, headed east. After a mile, the tracks turned north. In the distance he could see a windmill above the brush and small trees. Then he began to see the rooftops of stores.

Eli didn’t know what he was riding into, but he was ready. He tracked the two horses right up to the hitching rail in front of the town marshal’s office and jail where the horses were tied. When he stopped at the hitching rail, he untied Duncan’s saddle and threw it on the front porch of the jail. It landed with a loud thud and skidded over in front of the door. Eli was off his horse and standing by the door, ready for whoever came out.

Across the street at the general store, four men were standing on the boardwalk, looking over at the Indian who had just rode in.

“That Indian’s wearing a big badge. Hell fire, he’s a United States Marshal. All hell’s gonna bust loose now,” the store man said as the others looked on.

As they stood, watching and listening, someone inside the jail hollered out.

“Who’s out there? Who threw that saddle?”

“Eli Crow, United States Marshal out of Fort Smith, Arkansas. If you don’t come out of there, I’m coming in and I’m gonna kill every God Damned son-of-a-bitch I see. Can you hear me in there?”

“We hear you, Marshal, don’t shoot, we’re coming out.”

Joe and Larry Parkins came out with their hands high and Eli took their guns.

“Who else is in there?”

“Nobody.”

“Where’s Marshal Duncan? You better not lie to me either. I found his dead horse and there’s his saddle.”

“He’s in there in the cell.”

“Get your asses in there before I kill you both and scalp you right here.”

“Don’t kill us, Marshal, we didn’t want to shoot his horse,” Larry pleaded.

“Get in that cell and if either of you say a word or move, I’ll kill you both and drag you all the way down to the creek next to his horse so the buzzards can eat you.”

Eli grabbed the ring of keys and locked the cell door, then unlocked the cell Duncan was in.

“Duncan, can you hear me? It’s Eli.”

“Eli?”

“Yes, are you alright, Duncan?”

“Eli?”

“Yes, it’s me, Duncan ... it’s Eli. Are you alright?”

“Eli?”

Eli looked at Duncan’s head where the blood had clotted and dried in his hair. He had a big knot on his head and a deep cut.

“Who hit Marshal Duncan?” he said turning to Larry and Joe Parkins.

“It wasn’t me Marshal, it was Larry. He hit him and knocked him cold.”

“Joe was with me though and he didn’t say not to hit him.”

“Yeah, but you’re the one who hit him.”

“Shut up before I kill you both. Where’s the town marshal?”

“He’ll be back any minute. He’s gonna be really mad too. You might ought to go on and take your friend and leave, he may kill both of you.”

“I hope like hell he tries,” Eli said in a cold voice that made the two young men hunker down and look away.

“What’s the marshal’s name?”

“Pete Parkins, he’s our Pa.”

“Hamp Noonan is your brother-in-law?”

“Yes, he and Pa will be here soon too, they’re gonna be mad as hell.”

“Then they can die mad and go straight to hell, for all I care,” Eli told them.

Across the narrow dirt street, the men in the store still looked and listened. Now and then they could make out a word or two. They heard the Parkins boys talking, then barely heard the Indian Marshal when he spoke.

“Here comes Earl and Bud Parkins, reckon we should tell them they got company?” one man spoke, nearly laughing at the end. He knew this was about to get good.

The men in the store watched as the two oldest Parkins brothers rode up to the jail.

“Let them find out for themselves, they all think they’re so damned smart,” the store man said and the men backed deeper into his doorway.

“What’s that saddle doing in the doorway like that?” Earl asked.

“How in the hell would I know? I just got here when you did,” Bud answered.

“Joe, Larry,” Earl, the eldest, yelled out as they sat their saddles.

There was no answer and the two older boys looked at each other. They saw the strange horse at the hitching rail and knew things weren’t right.

“Larry, you in there?” Bud Parkins yelled.

Earl looked up and down the empty street, then across to the store. He saw the men peeping around the doorway.

“You men seen anything of Joe and Larry?”

“Nope, ain’t seen nothin.”

“Who’s this horse belong to and where’d that saddle come from?”

“Don’t know, Earl.”

“You ain’t gonna get a damn thing from them bastards. They’re all wishing hard times would come to all of us so they could take their town back.”

“Well, Pa and Hamp have worked too hard to let that happen. Go in and see if them two kid brothers are in there,” Earl said.

“I ain’t going in there! You go if you want to know, you’re the oldest.”

“Hold my horse, you’re worser than them youngest brothers,” Earl said as he stepped to the ground and eased to the doorway.

“Hey Larry, Joe, you two in here?” Earl asked as he stuck his head in the doorway.

“Yeah.”

He heard that, and turned to grin back at Bud, just as his head was snapped back with a fist to the side of his jaw just below his ear, busting his jawbone.

“Earl, what in the hell you doing in there? What happened?” Bud asked as he pulled his gun and peered at the empty doorway where his brother had just stood.

“Run get Pa, Bud,” Larry yelled from inside the jail.

Bud whirled around to get on his horse and raced away from the jail to find his Pa. He knew things hadn’t looked right when they rode up.

Eli looked at the two youngest deputies, then unlocked the cell.

“I told you not to make a sound,” he said as he stepped in the cell and grabbed Larry by the long hair on the back of his head, as the kid hunkered down in the floor. Eli jerked the boy to his feet by his hair and pulled him across the cell to the iron bars.

Joe just knew the Indian was gonna smash his little brother’s face into the iron bars. He closed his eyes and heard Larry scream. Joe had to look then; he saw his brother with his head jammed all the way through, between two bars, both his ears nearly torn off his head and bleeding all over both sides of his head.

“You want me to stick your head through these bars too?” Eli turned to Joe.

“No sir, Marshal. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

Eli dragged the other Parkins brother into the cell with the two youngest and locked the cell door again.

“Now, tell me where your Pa is boy,” Eli said as he looked at Joe.

“I don’t know Marshal, but you won’t have to wait long to find out. Bud’s gone by now to find him and Hamp. You best be gone from here when they get back. They’ll have Hamp’s men with them and they’ll kill you like they did all the others that’ve gone up against Hamp Noonan. Both Hamp and Pa has got bad tempers and they’ll be mad as hell when they get here.”

“Good, that’ll give me all the more reason to kill the whole God Damned bunch of you, for what’s happened to my friend.”

Eli knew he had to try and get Duncan out of the jail. He’d only be killed if he was here and couldn’t defend himself.

He looked out into the street and it was deserted. Across the street he saw a new wooden wheelbarrow leaned up against the wall of the general store, next to some shovels and brooms. Looking both ways, up and down the street, Eli hurried across the street. The men in the store thought he was coming in on them and ran to the back of the store. When he didn’t come through the front door, they looked out to see him rolling the wheelbarrow back over to the jail.

As they stood looking at each other, Eli came staggering out, carrying the fat marshal and put him in the wheelbarrow. The men ran to the back of the store again as the Indian rolled the deputy right up the wooden ramp, through the front door.

“I’m gonna leave my friend here. If you’ve got a doctor in this town, you better see to it he’s taken care of and doctored. If anyone causes him harm, or any of you let more harm come to him, I’ll kill every God Damn one of you.”