Tales of the Arizona Rangers
by Timothy Fogg

Chapter Six -- A Gunfight and a Favor

The ranger had once spent some time with a partner that hailed from Vermont, and he had often used the expression, "Between a rock and a hard place." Hagan had just learned what that saying meant. 

The tall leader spoke up. "You looking for somebody?"

"Nope. Wes has his own rules, and I abide by them," replied the ranger. "Your friend is right - this is neutral territory."

English Dan thought he saw his opening. "Is that the correct situation, or do you have a case of poor circulation? That is to say, an attack of cold feet."

"Don't you worry, Dan, I know how to warm them up." He turned slightly so that his right side was free to draw. English Dan was behind the end of the bar. He would have to go through some gymnastics to get his pistol into action. The ranger followed up on his advantage.

"What do you think, Dan? I'm willing to break the marshal's rule if you are. Is this a good time?"

"No, no, I meant nothing. Another time and place will arise, I'm sure."

"One that's more to your liking, hey, Dan? Well, listen up. You're not good enough, and you never will be."

"That prediction may well prove to be wrong. In the meantime, enjoy your drink."

"Thanks, I will." Hagan turned back to the bar and let the others talk amongst themselves. Their conversation slipped totally away from crime after seeing him and he knew he was now wasting his time. The clatter of horses running into town disrupted the relative calm of the saloon. 

Three men, and they hitched their horses at three points of the compass from the front of the jail. They must be the Twombly brothers!

Hagan responded quickly. Turning to the three outlaws down the bar he said, "Drop 'em, and move to the other end of the bar. Pronto!"

"But what about..." started one of the men. The ranger gave them no time to talk. 

"I don't want you men for anything, but I want you to stay out of this fray. You stand at that end of the bar and everything will be hunky dory. If you move I'll take that as a sign you are getting involved, and I will shoot you. Savvy?"

With that he stepped to the batwing doors and looked out. The Twomblys were spread out. One was directly in front of the jail. The other two were thirty yards out on either side. Talk about a crossfire!

Now the leader spoke up. "Hey, Marshal, come out. We're the Twombly brothers and we have a bone to pick with you."

Wes Smith stepped into the doorway of the jailhouse. "What do you want? I caught your brother red handed and it's a wonder he isn't dead right now. I can't see where you have any beef."

"Then you're blind. You sent him to Yuma. That's worse than death. We should stake you out somewhere in the sun. Instead we're just going to kill you."

"Might be I've got something to say about that," responded the brave marshal. As he stepped forward the other three men visibly tensed, ready for action. 

"Take the one to you left, Wes," spoke the Arizona Ranger. "The other two are mine." A noticeable hush fell over the street. 

The man Hagan was in back of became nervous, looking over his shoulder and then to the front. The one farthest away could see him anyway and probably figured that he was out of range. The one facing the marshal stood his ground. It was obvious he was going to finish his job no matter what the outcome. 

In a split second he drew and shot. The marshal's Colt instantly roared back and that Twombly lay face down in the street. The one closest to the ranger turned and started to draw, but Hagan's forty-five slug broke his shoulder before he could finish. The far one shot at the marshal, and both lawmen shot at him. The impact of the big bullets spun him around and sent him crashing to the ground like a freshly cut tree.

The ranger rushed over and removed the revolver from the holster of the man he had wounded. The middle brother was starting to stir, and Hagan was surprised to find that the marshal's bullet had merely grazed his skull. He had just been knocked out for a while, and the ranger was quick to put the handcuffs on him. 

The third brother was dead as Atlantis. When Hagan glanced up at the marshal he was surprised to see a spreading stain of blood on his shirt. 

"How bad are you hit, Wes?"

"I'm hit pretty good. I'd better head for the Doc's. Wrap things up for me, will you?" 

The marshal hadn't taken more than two steps when he collapsed to the ground. Hagan hollered for help and was soon surrounded by townspeople. They gently carried Wes Smith to the doctor's office for treatment. Others watched over the wounded man in the street until his turn came up. 

The ranger took the Twombly brother with the grazed head into the jail and locked him in a cell. Apart from a headache the man was okay. His wound certainly didn't affect his mouth. 

"You are going to be sorry about this, Ranger. I'm going to get out and you will get yours."

"When you get out of here you will be going to Yuma. Look at the bright side. You'll get to see your brother. Maybe then you'll have the time to see the error of your ways."

You're funny, you are. Well, listen to this. It's a long way to Yuma." Once again Twombly uttered his threat, "You'll get yours."

Hagan shook his head in disgust. Some people were not just slow learners - they didn't learn at all. He headed out of the jail to see what he could find out about the marshal's condition. 

The ranger stopped short on the boardwalk. Across the street on a bench in front of the saloon sat English Dan. He was obviously waiting for Hagan to appear. Had the man worked himself up to a pitch where he wanted to try to shoot the Arizona Ranger?

"You waiting for me, Dan?" inquired Hagan.

"No, I was just enjoying the show. It is the most excitement I have received in six months. Perhaps I should have followed a career in law enforcement."

"Instead of having the law following you?"

"I believe you said that you were not looking for us."

"That's right, Dan. Not yet, anyway."

"That is just as well. You are quite good, but I do believe I am just a tiny bit more rapid."

"Could be. I hope we never find out," said the ranger. 

"Ah, that is where you and I differ. I quite look forward to the day when you and I shall meet in the street. A clash of the Titans, one might say."

"You are a strange man, English Dan."

"So I have been told. Good day." 

The ranger breathed a sigh of relief when Dan turned and went back into the saloon. Hagan wasn't afraid of him, not by a long shot. It was just too soon after this recent shoot out to be going into a gunfight for no reason. Dan might have his own reasons, but to Bud it was just plain foolish. 

He took a walk the long way around the street so as to check the brands on the three outlaw's horses. One never knew when such information might come in handy. All three steeds had different brands. Two were out of Texas and the other was unknown, but looked to be Spanish. Hagan filed them away in his memory.

At the doctor's office he was told that the marshal's condition was serious and to check back in the morning. With time to kill he went back to the marshal's office and thumbed through a stack of wanted posters. He expected to find one issued for English Dan but the man was absent from the wanted list. A moment's reflection told him the reason why. Dan was so bloodthirsty that there would be no witnesses left after his forays. 

He would stay here tonight while he waited for news of the marshal; then decide on his next course of action. When he brought his prisoner an evening meal the man was surly and repeated his threat that it was a long way to Yuma. 

The cot of Wes Smith was surprisingly comfortable and Hagan expected to get a good night's sleep. He was mistaken. Apparently Twombly did not feel the need for shuteye. 

"Hey Ranger, you know what I'm going to do? These tables are going to turn; you wait and see. When they do I'm going to treat you the Indian way. I'm going to stake you out in the hot sun and tie your arms and legs with wet rawhide. As it dries it tightens up. You're going to find out what heat and pain are. Just you wait and see."

"Twombly, if you don't shut up I'm going to bend my gun barrel over the good side of your head. Now BE QUIET!"

This kept the piece for a while, but then Twombly was at it again. And so it went for the rest of the night. More threats and more admonitions, with the ranger catching only a few catnaps. When morning came he was in a surly mood. 

"I'll ask the bartender across the way to bring you some breakfast. Whether or not he does I just don't care.

"You're not worth caring about."

He stopped in the saloon to order up some breakfast and to ask what had happened to the three outlaws that were here the previous evening. 

"It was the funniest thing. I expected them to stay and get a load on or spend all their money. Usually the two go hand in hand. But along about ten o'clock the tall one told them to drink up - it was time to go. The other two began to argue, but then the leader said, 'Remember what King said,' and they left. Whoever this king is must have some power," said the expansive barkeep. 

"Yes, he surely must have," replied the ranger thoughtfully. "Say, have you heard any stories of strange creatures in the desert, ones that people hear when they are being robbed?"

"Now that you mention it, there were a couple of Mexicans in here talking about some such thing. They were pretty far gone on tequila and I didn't pay the story any mind."

"Do me a favor, will you, and remember any such stories that you pick up. I don't believe there really is any creature out there, but there could well be one smart crook."

"Like this King, for instance?"

"It sure sounds that way. If you get a chance, could you send over some food to the prisoner in the jail? I'll pay for it if need be."

"No need. The town gives me a flat thirty cents per meal delivered. I can't complain."

With this chore done, he walked down to the doctor's office to check up on Wes. The doc was in good spirits when the ranger entered. 

"I got the bullet out last night and the wound looks clean. He's going to pull through."

"That is great new, Doc. Wes was never one to lay around. He'll be up before we know it."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. The bullet passed very close to the aorta and I want it to have plenty of time to heal. He has got to rest for at least a month. Two would be better. The marshal is awake. Why don't you go in and try to make him understand."

"I'll see what I can do, but he is a stubborn man."

Marshal Smith was wide awake when the ranger entered, and was the first to speak.

"Bud, I have a favor to ask of you."

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