Episode 43

The Ground Trembles

“This is precisely the problem. You are making a shambles of my town and a mockery of the law. This is not what I hired you to do. This will not stand. You haven’t an idea of what sort of trouble you have brought yourself, Mr. Wiley. But it will not end well for you,” Mayor Tuchman said with fury. His large frame shook.

Joe stood up to face Bob Miller and the mayor.

“I think the both of you had better leave. Do what you think you have to do. But get out of our sight,” Joe warned.

“Heed my words well,” the mayor added and turned on his heels and left the building with Bob following but turning so as not to put his back to Seth Dugan. The corner of Seth’s mouth showed teeth.

“I wonder what he meant by all that?” Len asked.

“He sure was riled,” Seth said.

“Maybe he intends to message Austin to send in the Rangers. You put a thought to that?” Ben said.

Joe shook his head.

“No Rangers. But surely something else. And not just angry, Seth. Scared. He’s also scared. Hard to tell what a frightened man might do.”

“And what the hell’s all this mystery about us not having any idea what brand of trouble we’re in?” Len said.

“Just hot air,” Joe said.

“You’re wrong, Joe,” Ben said, placing a hand on the chair back to rise. “I heard it in his voice. He was yellow-shit scared talking to you like that. But the one time he talked like he was on solid ground was that threat. ‘You haven’t an idea of what sort of trouble you have brought yourself, Mr. Wiley.’ Those words meant something.”

Joe walked over to look out the barred window of the small jail again. His mind worked at what he had gotten himself into. And he knew that if he were a smart man, he’d heed Ben’s words and clear out of this place. But he knew deep down he couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t do that. So, what would be, would be. Whatever the days that were to come brought him, he was going to go down fighting.

A lowing sound, growing louder, caused him to look toward the train station. Something moved there in the early morning gloom. A large shape, dark against the dawn shadows and growing to fill the street from side to side. Beneath his booted feet a tremble reached him through the floorboards.

It was cattle, a few thousand head, stampeding out of the stockyard.