Chapter 12

Capt Johnson had called Ezra and Sean into his office five weeks before and given them the bad news. "Senator Claibourn's brother-in-law wants to run for governor and he has asked for y'all, specifically, to act as the man's bodyguards. He knows tht the Rangers don't usually do this sort of thing, but Col. Jordan has agreed to it as a personal favor. Don't argue, there ain't no way y'all kin git outa this here job!"

"God must of been pissed at us. Ain't nothin' worse to me than excortin' some bigwig around while he makes campaign speeches." moaned Ezra, as he and Sean listened to another repeat of the same speech they had heard for days.

"Look at it this way, we're doin' our civic duty." Sean had hardly gotten the words out of his mouth when he jumped up and dove at the speaker at the podium. He pushed the gubernatorial candidate to the floor just as a shot rang out and a bullet passed through the place most recently occupied by the candidate's head. "Ezra, he's got a rifle. Toward the back. On the right."

"I see 'im. Ya go left an' I'll go right."

The two Rangers jumped off the stage to the ground and ran around the crowd, trying to reach the back where the failed assassin had been. There was a lot of running to and fro by people in the crowd, so Ezra was delayed in his chase and Sean didn't do any better.

Ezra saw the man run into an alley just past the biggest saloon in town. "Over here, Sean! He jus' cut down that alley!" The two Rangers ran into the alley and were met by a gunshot. Sean's sombrero went flying and the two men dove to the ground.

"Did ya see him? I was too busy duckin' when my hat went flyin'!"

"Not exactly. All I know fer sure is he's behind some barrels over there. He ain't goin' anywhere, cuz there's a big fence blocking the other end of the alley. Ifen he tries to climb it, he'll stick out like a sore thumb an' I kin plug 'im!"

"This looks like a job fer our new shotguns. You keep him bottled up an' I'll go git the guns."

"Good idee! Just hurry back or ya're liable to miss the fun!"

A few minutes later... "Ezra, don't shoot. It's me. Here's yer shotgun and a handful of extra shells."

"Much obliged. Our bird ain't moved. It looks like we'll have to go in after 'im."

"OK, I'll go first. Ya cover me."

Sean hadn't gone three steps when a blast from Ezra's shotgun went off too close for comfort. "Shit, Ezra! It'll be a week afore I kin hear again outa that ear."

"Ya druther I let him shoot ya?"

"Nah, I guess not. Did ya git 'im?"

"I don't think so, but I musta scared the shit outa him! Now, ya cover me an' I'll try to git closer."

There was no response from the would-be assassin this time, so Ezra was able to get quite close. "Come on up, Sean. I think he's done fer."

Sean rushed around the end barrel and saw a man lying on the ground in a pool of blood, mostly coming from his head. Holding his shotgun at the ready, Sean walked up to the downed man. "It's OK, Ezra, yer last shot got him in the head. He's about as dead as a feller kin git."

There were at least two buckshot holes in the man's head, but his head was in such a mess that it was really hard to tell just how many buckshot had hit him. Oh, well, only the photographer will care! "Kin you tell who he is?" asked Ezra.

"Nah, yer shot chewed him up and spit him out in little pieces. Ya sure picked a winner when ya found these shotguns. I realy like 'em"

"Thanks. I'll find the marshal; ya better check on our candidate's condition."

Each man left on his errand, nobody was likely to bother with the mess in the alley.

Sean trotted back to the stage in the park. Most of the crowd was gone and their candidate, Jed Ross, was sitting on the edge of the stage with a bemused look on his face. "I ain't never been shot at by no assassin, afore. Thanks to you, I survived an' I appreciate it. Ya saved my life an' I'm much obliged!"

"Jus' doin' my job, but I'm mighty glad ya're OK. Mr. Ross, ya gonna keep speechifying, or are ya gonna quit? Ezra an' I will stick with ya as long as ya want."

"I ain't gonna quit, now! I ain't got no idee who wanted me dead, but he sure as hell made me mad, now. I really aim to win this here election more than ever! This here shootin' gave me sumpthin' else to talk about an' I plan to use it!"

"OK, then. Ezra an' I'll stick with ya. An' we'll try to keep the bastards offen yer back! Ezra's doin' the necessaries with the marshal, so I'll stay with ya fer now. He'll find us when he gits done. Ya wanna go to the hotel?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idee. I'm kinda worn out after that there little dust up."

Sean led candidate Ross to his hotel and stayed with him through supper. Ezra finally showed up and declaimed, "That marshal is dumber than a jackass. I found him in a saloon about half drunk. He didn't want to bother with the dead man, said that the dogs would take care of his body. I finally had to threaten to shoot him to get him to come with me to move the body to the undertaker.

"The dead man didn't have no identification on him an' his face was such a mess that nobody would recognize him. We'll probably never know who he was. I guess it don't make any difference, but I'd like to know if this here assassination attempt was his idee or was he hired fer the job. I did notice that he had that funny burning cross tattoo on his left hand."

"Shit, have we got those nuts to worry with, again?"

"Who are you talking about?"

"Mr. Ross, a while back, Ezra an' I ran up against a bunch of crazies who wanted to start a war with Mexico. We ain't sure why. Anyway, we managed to put a big crimp in their plans an' this here is the first we've heard from them, since. Ezra an' I think that they are somehow tied up with the KKK, but we ain't positive."

"It's well known that I'm against the KKK and their treatment of colored people. Maybe that's why he wanted to shoot me."

"Could be. Ezra an' I will be on the lookout fer 'em the rest of the time we're with ya. We'll keep our shotguns handy, jus' in case,"

"Good, y'all make me feel a hell of a lot safer when ya're around."

The next two weeks were the usual campaign routine and then trouble cropped up, again. Ross was speaking at a nighttime rally when the crowd was approached by a mob carrying clubs and torches. The mob was small, about 20 toughs, but the crowd around Ross was mostly armed with political spirit, not physical weapons; there were even some women in the crowd.

Sean asked Ross to conclude his speech and dismiss the crowd before some real ugliness happened. Ross' crowd rapidly melted away, but the club-wielding mob kept coming. When they got close enough to be a real menace, Ezra shouted to the mob, "WE'RE RANGERS. Y'ALL GO HOME. WE DON'T WANT NO TROUBLE!"

Cries came from the mob of "We want that fuckin' nigger lover!" and "Throw that bastard outa town!" and "We got tar an' feathers ready fer the SOB!"

This was enough to disturb Ezra and he cocked his shotgun. "YA GOT TWO MINUTES TO DISPERSE! I WON'T WARN Y'ALL AGAIN. I'LL SHOOT ANYBODY WHAT COMES A STEP CLOSER!"

Suddenly, a shot rang out from the crowd. Nobody on the stage was hit, but Sean snapped off a shot with his shotgun at the muzzle flash. The buckshot hit several members of the mob and caused a real panic. It was impossible to tell if the original shooter had been one of those wounded by the buckshot, but enough people were hurt to get the mob's attention.