The Exchange

A Laramie story by Patricia, Laramiekid_2000


CHAPTER ONE

During the last few years the town of Laramie had grown from a few buildings to many businesses lining the boardwalk. Laramie was no longer a small town. Now it was a striving small city. Yet despite the progress  the town of Laramie had made, there was one thing that had not changed
over the years.  The saloon was still the most popular business in Laramie.  Day or night, the saloon was always filled with customers, never less than a dozen men.   No matter what the hour, cowboys and business men gathered here to enjoy liquor, a game of poker,  and a woman's company.

Jess Harper pushed open the swinging doors and walked into the saloon. Just inside, he paused a second as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. This place was always dark for there was no windows, only lanterns hanging from the rafters. The saloon in Laramie was a typical western saloon with the bar filling two thirds of the entire length of the room. Over the bar was a picture of a soiled dove unashamedly displaying her womanly charms. Deer anchors hung on the walls for men to hang their hats. Spittoons and tables were scattered throughout the room. A cloud of cigar smoke, that never seemed to evaporate, made the air thick to breathe.

Jess walked the few feet to the bar.

"Howdy Jess," the bartender greeted. "What are you doing in town on a weekday?"

Jess leaned against the oak wood. He pushed his hat back. "Came in for supplies."

"Want the usual?"

Jess nodded as his eyes roamed around the room. "Thanks," he mumbled as the bartender placed the glass in front of him. Jess sipped the whiskey then sighed with contentment. Again his eyes traveled the room. "Looks like a funeral in here."

The pleasant expression on the bartender's face changed to a look of quiet anger. He jerked his head towards a table in the corner of the back part of the room. There sat two men, the only customers, besides Jess, in the saloon.  "The McIntire boys are in town."

"Who's the McIntires?"

The bartender chuckled. "I keep forgetting you ain't been in Laramie long. The McIntires live near Rawlings. Their pa owns the biggest ranch in these parts.  Old Tom McIntire keeps a pretty tight rein on them two boys. Usually they don't travel any farther than Rawlings. Except when their pa's gone, then they come here to Laramie. They been here since early this morn. Ain't had one customer since, except you. I can't blame anyone. I wouldn't want to tangle with them either."

Drinking the liquor, Jess studied these two men over the rim of his glass.

One of the McIntires had his legs sprawled on the table. The other had a saloon girl sitting on his lap. She was nuzzling his neck and he was laughing loudly. Both men held a bottle of whiskey, guzzling from it as if the liquor was water and they were dying of thirst.

Jess guessed they were close to his own age. Both were slender, almost skinny. Each was clean shaven. And each wore the same type of clothes--jeans, and dark colored shirts. Their Stetsons were pushed back on their heads, revealing short dark hair.  There was no doubt that they were related for they were carbon copies, each looking like the other.

"Don't look too fierce to me," Jess said turning back to the bar.

"Oh they might look tame enough. But they each got a mean streak a mile wide. They've probably fought with half the men in this town. Ben usually starts it and Johnny usually finishes it. Johnny is the one holding the girl. He's the oldest. By about  two years. And the meanest. He brags there ain't a man he can't lick. And Ben, well, he's got a temper on him like a wildcat."

"I'm surprised Mort allows-"

"Oh the sheriff will lock them up. Trouble is they got to do something first so Mort will have a reason to put them in jail. Usually the reason is that they bust up my place. 'Course their daddy always pays the damages and then some."

A bottle crashed to the floor. Jess glanced over his shoulder as the bartender frowned. Johnny  McIntire ignored the glass close to his feet. With a laugh, the saloon girl left Johnny's lap and strolled to the bar.She stood close to Jess. Close enough he could smell her scent: a mixture of liquor and cheap perfume.

 "He wants another bottle," she informed.

The bartender only nodded. He started to reach for one.

"Make it your best, Charlie. None of that water down stuff," she added.

Charlie grunted. "I don't water nothing down. And you know it." But he moved further down the bar, searching for another bottle.

She glanced at Jess and smiled. "He does too," she silently mouthed.

Jess chuckled softly.

"You work for Slim Sherman, don't you?"

"Yes ma'am," Jess replied.

"Manners. I like that in a man." She moved closer. Her arm brushed Jess's jacket.

He didn't move away, he just glanced with curiosity at her.

"I've seen you in here before." Her eyes boldly traveled the length of Jess, there wasn't a part of him she missed.

Jess's eyes crinkled with amusement.

"Hey, Sally! You coming with that bottle?" Johnny McIntire called out.

"Here," the bartender handed her a bottle. "Better take it to him before he gets angry."

She winked at Jess before returning to the McIntires.

The bartender began refilling Jess's glass. But the girl's scream caused the bartender to spill liquor on the bar. Jess's head jerked around to see what had happen.

The saloon girl stood trembling in front of Johnny McIntire. Blood trickled down from her mouth. Tears fell from her eyes.

"I seen the way you looked at him," Johnny snarled at her.

Her hand wiped against her lip, smearing blood on her face. "I never-"

"You don't flirt with another man when you're with me," he cut in.

She turned to leave but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "You ain't going no where. The fun's just beginning."

"You're hurting me!" she screamed out as he forced her to sit on his lap.

His arms tighten around her, pressing her to his body. She tried pushing him away but he held her tightly, locking her arms to her sides so all she could do was squirm.

"Now you didn't mind a minute ago when I had my hands on you."

"I mind now!"

Jess started forward but the bartender's hand snaked out grabbing Jess's jacket. "Don't," he warned.

Jess jerked away from his grip then moved away from the bar.  "Let her go!" Jess's voice drew the attention of both the McIntires and the saloon girl.

"You keep out of this, cowboy," Johnny replied, his hand still roaming all over the girl. "This don't concern you."

"I said to let her go. Now do it," Jess answered. "And I warn you I'm not a patient man."

"Well now, big brother," Ben McIntire taunted with a grin, "you going let this cowboy tell you what to do?"

"I don't want no trouble in here," the bartender yelled.  "You remember what the sheriff said the last time."

"No trouble, Charlie," Ben answered. "As long as this cowboy tells us that he's sorry for intruding on our fun. Go on, Mister, apologize and  there won't be no trouble between us."

"You want me to apologize for stopping you from hurting a lady? You're two tough hombres ain't you? How tough are you when you have to face a man instead of a helpless woman?" Jess challenged.

 Both McIntires immediately stood, their chairs sliding backwards. Johnny pushed the saloon girl away from him. He pushed so hard that she uttered a cry of pain as she fell against a chair.

Jess's eyes darted to the girl. He walked to her and helped her to her feet. "Miss, you all right?"

She rubbed her arm as if it hurt. Her lips trembled as she offered Jess a quick smile then she moved quickly away from the men.

Jess turned and faced the McIntires.  "Someone ought to teach you some manners," Jess remarked.

"Why don't you try?" Johnny challenged.

Jess stared back at Johnny, who stood directly in front of him. Though Jess's eyes locked on Johnny's face, Jess knew Ben was slowly circling around him.  Jess suddenly looked at Ben and warned, "Get back there."

Ben froze.

"Go on!" Jess growled. "Step back."

Ben backed a couple of feet.  "Maybe you don't know who we are."

"Maybe I just don't care," Jess replied, "who whelped you.".

Johnny's face distorted into anger. He rushed forward swinging his fist. Jess was ready. He ducked causing  Johnny's fist to strike air.  Jess was quick as a panther as he swung his right arm, striking Johnny in the jaw. Jess's left hand followed with a punch to the stomach. Johnny doubled over, gasping for breath. Jess's knee hit Johnny's face with full force. Johnny fell to the ground, groaning in pain. Ben uttered a cry of outrage and lunged for Jess. Jess's right hand jabbed Ben in the
nose, causing blood to pour.  Jess's right hand then connected with Ben's lip. Blood trickled down Ben's chin.  Jess's right hand again hit Ben, but this time in the stomach. As Ben doubled over, Jess hit him hard in the back. Ben fell to the floor, landing beside his brother.

Jess glanced down at the two McIntires. Sure that they were unable to get up for a few minutes, he walked to the bar. He swallowed the rest of the liquor. "How much do I owe you for the damages?"

The bartender grinned. "I'll tell them I split the cost. But I'll really get them to pay the entire bill. Hell, their father is the richest man  in Wyoming. He can afford it."

Jess started to toss a coin on the bar for the drink.

"Jess, it's on the house. It was a pleasure seeing them young pups get what they deserve."

"Thanks, Charlie."


CHAPTER TWO

Jess had just left the saloon and crossed the street when he heard, "Don't you walk away from us,  you bastard!"

Jess turned with fury.

Both McIntires were standing in the street, facing him. "You think you're going get away with what did to us? You got a gun. Let's see how good you are."

Jess stared hard at both. "You sure you want do this?"

Johnny grinned nastily. "What's wrong? You scared to face us?"

"I don't want any gun play."

Ben laughed. "Don't suppose you do want any gun play against us. But never the less, we're going have us some.  No one does what you did to a McIntire  and lives to tell about it."

"You're drunk," Jess observed.

"Drunk or sober I'm still the fastest in these parts," Ben bragged. "I've killed two men in a gun fight. Now I'm going to kill you, cowboy."

"Why don't you sober up?"

"You are scared, ain't you? Well you got a choice. Get on your knees and crawl like the coward you are. Or draw your gun. Either choice you're going to be sorry you tangled with us."

"I said to sober up." Jess turned away. The bullet struck Jess's hat. One fourth inch lower and he would have been dead from a bullet to his head.  With raw anger on his face, Jess turned to again face the McIntires.  Ben had his gun pointed right at Jess. Slowly Jess eased his hand downward until it touched the butt of his own weapon..

Ben laughed. "The next one is going be in you." He pulled back the hammer. "Bang," he shouted, then loudly howled with laughter. "Don't worry. I'll give you a chance." He carefully dislodged the hammer. Then he put his colt in his holster. "So are you going to fight? Or do we use you for target practice?"

Jess stepped off the boardwalk and onto the street. He kept his hand on the butt of his gun while his stare stayed fixed on the McIntires. He slowly walked to the middle of the street.

The McIntires moved so that they were standing side by side, facing him. Their hands hovered over their guns.

"Any time you're ready, cowboy," Ben challenged.

Jess's legs parted. His hand moved to a few inches over his gun. His eyes traveled from Ben to Johnny, then dropped to stare at their guns. A second then another second went by. A fly landed on Jess's sleeve but he didn't move. He just waited and watched the McIntires. Jess saw Johnny's
hand start to drop.

The boom of a shotgun drew everyone's attention.  "Hold it right there," Mort Corey called out as he joined them in the street. He stood between Jess and the McIntires.  Mort pointed the shotgun only at the McIntires.   "There'll be no gun play here today."

The McIntires's expression would have worried most men but Mort's stare challenged theirs. "I want you boys to go home. Now!"

Ben protested, "We got a right to be in Laramie."

"And I got a right to lock you up," Mort answered.

"For what?" Johnny argued, his face puckered with disbelief.

"Starting off with drunk and disorderly."

"We might have been drinking. But we're not doing nothing wrong."

"How about challenging a man to draw?  Seems the odds are in your favor. Two against one."

The boys had the same expression as children who are caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar.  "He jumped us in the saloon," Johnny accused.

Mort glanced at Jess. His voice dripped with sarcasm as he looked back at the McIntires,  "And the two of you couldn't handle one man?"

"It ain't that, sheriff!" Ben growled.

"More likely you were causing trouble. And Jess wouldn't back down. Now I warned you both. Laramie ain't Rawlings. I won't tolerate your foolishness. You got a choice either you leave or I put you in jail and send for your pa."

Jess's hand dropped to his gun for he was sure that they were going to draw their guns on Mort.

But they only nodded.

Mort glanced at Jess. "'Spect you might as well go about your business. This is over."

Jess's stare again found the McIntires. His eyes battled theirs but finally Jess turned to walk away. Then it happen. So quick that Mort wasn't sure what exactly had triggered it. Mort knew he looked away for just a quick second at Jess to be sure Jess would leave then looked back at the McIntires. He saw a slight movement and yelled, "Jess!"

Jess spun on his heels hearing the warning in Mort's voice. Johnny McIntire was starting to draw his gun but Jess was quicker drawing his colt. Before Johnny's gun had even cleared leather, Jess had his weapon drawn.  Even with Jess's gun pointing at him, Johnny continued drawing, as if he couldn't stop what he had already begun. The bullet from Jess's gun hit Johnny's hand forcing Johnny to release his hold on his weapon. Johnny's gun dropped to the ground as Johnny cried out in pain.

Ben's gun slid out of his holster as he yelled, "You son of a-"

The word died in Ben's throat as Jess aimed his gun right at Ben's heart. But Ben's gun never wavered as he kept his colt pointed at Jess.

"Drop that gun, Ben!" Mort ordered, pointing his shotgun at Ben.

Ben's face turned red with anger as he cried out,  "He shot my brother!"

"You brother drew! While Jess had his back turned."

"He's hurt, sheriff."

Johnny's hand dripped with blood. As one hand cradled the other, Johnny's fingers turned sticky and bloody red.

Mort replied, "He'll live. Now drop your gun. Or I swear I'll shoot you where you stand."

Jess kept his gun pointed until Ben's gun hit the ground. Only then did Jess slip his colt back into his holster. Still Jess  kept his hand resting on the butt of his gun, ready to again draw his weapon.

Keeping his shotgun pointed, Mort approached the McIntires. Mort's boot slid their fallen guns further into the street, out of the McIntires's reach.  "Now both of you get going." Mort's head nodded towards the jail. "You're under arrest."

"Arrest!" Ben screamed out. "My brother needs a doctor!"

"He'll get patched up. But in jail! Go on starting walking!"

"You need me to come too?" Jess ask.

For a moment Mort saw the worry in Jess's face.  Jess's old fear of being arrested was still there. "No. You go on about your business. I'm sorry you had to tangle with these boys."

Jess turned and walked away. Mort grabbed Ben's shoulder and pushed him forward, towards the jail. Mort looked at Johnny. Without a word, Johnny obediently started following Ben. Glancing back, Jess gave them one last look. At the same time Ben looked back over his shoulder.  For a split
second their eyes met. It was unfriendly stare.



CHAPTER THREE

The Sherman relay station was a good distance from Laramie.  The cabin was nestled in a valley, surrounded by mountains.  By early evening coyotes howling could be heard. The cabin offered a safe haven from the night. Inside, the fire blazed giving the inhabitants warmth and light. Jess and Jonesy enjoyed a cup of coffee while Andy fidgeted in his chair.

Jess had returned early afternoon from town just in time to greet the stage. What with unloading supplies and taking care of livestock, this was the first time that Jess had a chance to tell them what had happen in Laramie.

Jess picked up his Stetson. He poked his finger through the bullet hole. Already the material had started to unravel.

"I think Mort should have made them pay for a new hat for you," Jonesy stated.

Jess explained, "They were drunk."

"That's no excuse!  Every time those boys come to Laramie there's trouble.  I don't understand it." Jonesy took a long sip of coffee before continuing, "I hear Tom McIntire works his sons hard."

Andy leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well Jonesy maybe that's the problem. He works them too hard. Maybe a fellow shouldn't have too many chores."

Jonesy's stare made Andy squirm. "Speaking of chores? You finished yours?"

Andy's eyes dodged Jonesy's face. "Well..." his voice faded away.

"That's what I figured. Slim is going have a fit when he gets back from Medicine Bow and those bridles ain't repaired."

Andy said quickly, "I was going to finish them tonight but Jess here was telling us what happened..."

"And you just had to hear," Jonesy cut in. "Well now that you know all the gossip, you best get on to the barn. It ain't bedtime yet. You can still get some work done."

"Aw, Jonesy. Can't I do it in the morning? After all, you don't want to work me too hard," Andy said with a smile tugging at his lips. "I might turn out bad like them McIntires."

"The way you work? No chance of that ever happening," Jonesy replied.

"But Jonesy-"

"Andy, I'll tell you what, I'm not going to tell you what to do. I'm going to let you decide. All I'm going to say is if Slim comes home and those bridles aren't repaired, then you'll have to answer to him. That's all I'm going to say."

"Every time you say you're going let me decide, well it seems I don't really have a decision. So I guess I'll get to work. And it's going to be on your conscience if I turn bad."

"You do the chores; I'll take the chance of you turning out bad," Jonesy said, trying not to show a smile.

"Tell you what, Tiger, I'll give you a hand," Jess offered. "Maybe between the two of us we can most of them done tonight."

Jonesy snorted. "Between the two of you,  you'll be lucky to get any work done. More likely you'll spend the time talking."

Jess started to put on his hat, then stopped. He laid it back on the table.

Andy noticed Jess's forlorn expression.  "You know, Jess, Jonesy is right. The McIntires should have paid for a new hat. I know you ain't had it for long and it weren't cheap." Andy put the hat on his own head. "I reckon you can still wear it. I don't think any one would notice the hole. Do you?"

With a jolt, Jonesy realized how much Andy resembled Jess, much more than he resembled Slim. With his dark hair, Andy could easily pass for Jess's brother. Just recently Andy had a spurt of growth. Now he was close to Jess's height. And in a rare moment, seeing them stand together, Jonesy was reminded that Jess was still young, just past being a boy. With Jess's self confidence, Jonesy sometimes forgot how young Jess was.

Andy started to take off the hat.

"No, you keep it, tiger. I ain't going wear it again."

"You sure? Ain't nothing wrong with the hat, Jess," Andy argued.

"If you like bullet holes."

"I think the bullet hole just gives it character."

"And I think it reminds me that someone tried to kill me."

"Could remind you that you're lucky he didn't kill you," Jonesy said, then added angrily, "Mort should throw away the key on them boys."

"Well it's over," Jess said. "I don't reckon our paths will cross for a long spell. By that time, they will have tangled with someone else and forgotten all about me."

"One day they're going tangle with the wrong person," Jonesy predicted.

"Well Jess, let's get going before Jonesy thinks of more work for me to do." Andy started for the door.

"Andy, let me get a cup of coffee and I'll join you in the barn," Jess said heading for the kitchen.

As Andy put his hand on the doorknob, Jonesy said, "Now don't you be long. It's going be your bedtime soon."

Andy frowned. "You know Jonesy I ain't a little kid."

"Well you ain't a man either. At least not yet."

"So what does that make me?"

"Someone who better get a move on if he's going get some work done before his bedtime."

Andy slapped his hands on his pants in frustration. "Jonesy, sometimes I swear-" He pressed his lips together, refusing to say more.

Jonesy just chuckled.

Without another word, Andy opened the door. The moon offered the only light.

"Better take a lantern," Jonesy suggested. "And some matches."

Andy grabbed the lantern. "There's matches in the barn."  As Andy stepped out onto the porch, the bullet hit hard, causing him to fall backwards. Glass sprayed over his body as the lantern crashed to the ground. But Andy didn't know that for he had hit his head on the doorknob as he fell. He was out cold. Blood gushed from his shoulder as his hair became caked with blood.

"Andy!" Jonesy cried out, standing.

"Stay back, " Jess ordered as he ran to Andy. He shielded the boy's body with his own. "Andy?" he called out but Andy didn't respond. Jess heard running feet. He fired his gun. The man's cry of pain told him that he had hit his mark. His eyes searched frantically but Jess saw no one else in the shadows.

Jess's stare dropped back to Andy's pale face. "Andy, do you hear me?"

There was still no reply.

He gently picked up Andy and carried him inside, cradling the boy in his arms as if he was a baby..

"Jess! Is he hurt bad?"

"He's bleeding something awful. And he's unconscious."

As Jonesy led the way, Jess carried Andy into the bedroom. Andy's blood soaked Jess's shirt. Jess laid the boy carefully on the bed.

Jonesy immediately ripped open Andy's shirt so he could examine the wound. "It's bad," Jonesy mumbled. "We need a doctor, Jess."

Jess never bothered with a saddle. Within minutes, Jess was riding bareback, heading towards  Laramie.


CHAPTER FOUR

Jonesy's tan face was red with anger.  "Jess, you know what Slim would say if he was here."

Jess paid no attention as he saddled his horse. He didn't even give Jonesy a glance.

Mort dismounted his quarter horse near Jess's appaloosa.  Jonesy left the porch and moved to Mort. "Mort, maybe you can talk some sense into him," Jonesy greeted the sheriff.

Jess glanced at Mort but continued saddling his horse if he was racing against time. The doctor had just left the relay station. Jess had begun saddling his horse within five minutes of hearing that Andy was going to live.  Mort had ridden from town with the doctor and Jess. For hours he had been combing the woods looking for some sign of who had done this terrible deed.

"You're bound and determine to do this?" Mort asked.

Jess nodded. "I know it was them. You find anything in the woods?"

"Some horse tracks. Followed them about five miles. They're going in the direction of Rawlings, all right.  And I found some blood on one of the bushes."

"That's proof enough for me."

"Jess, those tracks could veer off going another direction. And just 'cause I found blood don't mean it's theirs," Mort argued.

Jess pulled hard on the girth, tightening the saddle. "You released them from jail. In the time it takes to ride from Laramie to the ranch, Andy is shot. I got all the proof I need. 'Sides the blood proves I winged one. If I find one shot, then that's proof, ain't it?" Jess eyed Mort.

Mort nodded as he glanced helplessly at Jonesy.  "I feel bad, Jess. Maybe if I had kept them in jail longer-"

"I think the anger would have just built more," Jess said. "I shot one of them. And they weren't about to forget that."

Jonesy's frown filled his whole face. "And I know you can't forget they shot Andy. But that's no reason to play vigilante. This is for the law to handle."

"Jonesy, I'm going after the McIntires. And if they let me I'll bring them back alive."

"And if they don't?" Jonesy questioned.

"I'll still bring them back," Jess said with determination in his voice.

"Dead! Jess, you can't do this!" Jonesy argued. "That's nothing less than murder."

Jess turned and faced Jonesy. His face looked as cold as steel. "That's exactly what they tried to do. Murder. Don't you lecture me, Jonesy. Not when Andy's lying in there with a bullet hole in him.  First they shoot at me, then him.  Who's next?  I don't care if they are McIntires and own half of Wyoming. Those boys need to be stopped."

Mort said, "Rawlings ain't like Laramie, Jess. The sheriff might as well be on McIntire's payroll the way he treats that family. Jess, you're probably right it was the McIntires who shot Andy. But I don't have any jurisdiction over there. Let me wire the U.S. Marshall. He'll get them and bring them back to Laramie to stand trial."

"Mort, we both know that the Marshall is hunting Paul Knight over near Parker. It may be weeks before he gets around to this. By that time any bullet wound could be healed. And there goes my proof."

Jonesy pleaded,  "Jess, at least wait until Slim gets back. You don't want to face the McIntires alone. They're a powerful family."

"Slim won't be back for another two days."

"I'll wire him."

"Still take time for him to ride back." Jess tied his bedroll to the back of his saddle.

"But-"

"I got to do this. 'Course this was my fault!" Jess cried out as his face betrayed his guilt. Jess's head dropped as if the burden was too much to bear.

Jonesy neared Jess. He placed his hand on Jess's shoulder. "Boy, why don't you tell me why that is?"

Pain was etched on Jess's face. "Andy was wearing my hat. In the dark they thought it was me."

"That don't make it your fault."

"Jonesy, I tangled with them boys. I let them walk away. I should never have-"

"You hold it right there," Mort cut in. "You ain't no gunslinger. You put that gun up."

Jess's glare turned cold.  "I got soft. If I hadn't, then Andy wouldn't be in there with a bullet hole in him. He's lucky he's not dead. A few inches and he would have been. I should have stopped them in town. If I had this wouldn't have happen."

"Andy is going to be fine!" Jonesy argued. "And I'd rather him be shot than you have two dead boys on your conscience."

Jess spit out his words as if he were firing bullets, "Jonesy, I ain't letting them get away with this. Andy could have been killed. Would have been if they had been better shots."

"If you're so determined to do this, then at least let me deputize you." Mort handed Jess a badge.

Jess looked taken back. He didn't move. He just stared at the metal.

"Go on take it. Oh it won't carry any weight outside of Laramie, but maybe the sheriff  in Rawlings will treat you a little better if he thinks you're the law."

Jess pinned on the badge. "Thanks, Mort."

Mort replied, "Jess, you bring them back here. Alive. I'll see they go to trial. Just don't you go playing judge and jury."

As Jess rode away, Jonesy said with fear crinkling his face, "I'm worried about Jess."

"It's them boys who you should be worried about, " Mort exclaimed. "Jess is angry. They hurt someone he cares about. I would hate to be them boys now. Not in the mood Jess is in. Once he catches up to them-well I wouldn't want to be them boys. When Jess gets that temper of his up, I
swear, I'd rather face the devil himself than Jess Harper."


CHAPTER FIVE

Rawlings was a much smaller town than Laramie. The only buildings Rawlings had was a livery stable, a bank, a saloon, a sheriff's office, and a general store. The town was exactly two blocks in length. Rawlings made Laramie look like a big city. No wonder the boys had ridden to Laramie to drink, Jess thought as he rode his appaloosa down the only street in Rawlings. He was bone tired for he had not slept for at least 24 hours and had not eaten for over 14 hours. A dark stubble hid part of his face and he had pulled his Stetson low to hide more of his face. He didn't want to be recognized by the McIntires, until he was ready to be recognized. He wanted to surprise them. But all he saw in Rawlings was a dog walking along the road. There was no sidewalk only dirt. He tied his horse to the hitching post in front of the saloon.

With a guarded expression, Jess entered the saloon. It was empty except for a bartender and a saloon girl. Weary he sat down at a table.  "Beer. And food if you got it," Jess called out to the bartender.

The food wasn't much. Beef that was cooked too long making it hard to chew and greasy fried potatoes. The bread tasted stale. Still Jess ate with enthusiasm.

"Want some company?" the saloon girl had asked when she brought the food to his table. With his foot, he had pushed the chair out for her.  As she sat she said, "We don't get many strangers."

"I can see why."

She smiled, dimples appeared in her cheeks. "Not much of a town."

"Nope."

"So why are you here?"

Jess ate another bit of  beef.  "Do you know the McIntires?"

She laughed loudly. "In this town? Who wouldn't? You got business with them?"

Jess gave a slow nod.

Her head tilted with curiosity. "With Mr. McIntire or with his sons?"

"His sons."

"What did they do?"

Jess stopped eating. "How do you know they did something?"

"Like I said we don't get many strangers. So when a stranger does comes to town asking about them-well, I'd say by the look of you, you're out to even a score."

Jess finished the beef, chewing a long time on the grizzle then at last swallowing it.  "Where's their spread located?"

"Head north out of town. Begins about thirty minutes from here. You ride another hour before you reach their house. Then several days riding if you want to cross their land. It's a big spread. The biggest in Wyoming.  They have a lot of ranch hands, mister. You wouldn't just be facing the two boys."

Jess sipped his coffee. "Do tell."

She hurriedly stood. "Well I wish you luck. But if you want some friendly advice, I'd ride out of town now while you still can."  She walked away from him.

Jess watched as she whispered to the bartender. Within seconds he left. Jess waited. If he was telling the McIntires, then his wait would be long. But they would come to him. And they would show their hand in a town that had a lawman. If  he could get them to start the fight, then...Jess formulated his plan as he sipped his beer. His hand constantly rubbed the butt of his gun as if he was holding the hand of a friend.

Within minutes the bartender returned to the saloon. But the one who appeared with the bartender wasn't the McIntires but the sheriff of Rawlings. He was older than Mort. Much older. But like Mort, he carried a shotgun, hugging it as if it was a prize possession..

"Howdy," he greeted Jess.

"Sheriff." Jess leaned back in his chair.

"I like to meet all the strangers who pass through Rawlings."

"Don't suspect you have many."

The sheriff  grinned. "No, can't say we do. You passing through?"

Jess took a long sip of beer. "I don't plan on staying long."

"What are you doing in Rawlings?"

Jess's eyes roamed to the bartender. He was back behind the bar but Jess knew he was listening to every word. Jess gave a short nod to the bartender as he said, "Didn't he tell you when he fetched you?"

The sheriff glanced at the bartender. His eyes wandered back to Jess. Now instead of friendliness there was cold scrutiny.  "Why do you want to see the McIntire boys?"

"They shot a fourteen year old boy in Laramie."

The saloon girl gasped so loud that all three men heard.

"You have any witnesses?" the sheriff asked.

"Not exactly. But I know they did it."

"Seems this is something the law should handle."

Jess pulled back his jacket, revealing his badge.

"You ought to know that badge don't carry no weight here in Rawlings."

Jess kept silent, eyeing the sheriff.

"I don't want trouble in my town," the sheriff added.

"I'm taking those boys back to Laramie, sheriff.  Depends on them if there's trouble or not."

"And you think the McIntires are just going to go peaceful with you back to Laramie to stand trial?"

Jess shrugged.

"Now you listen to me, boy, and you listen good." The sheriff's fingers tightened on the shotgun. "The McIntires don't have to go to Laramie. And you ain't got no legal right to take them there."

"So you ain't going help me?" Jess asked.

"Those boys ain't wanted here."

"They're wanted in Laramie," Jess fired back.

"Laramie ain't Rawlings. Here, the McIntires are respected citizens."

"Yea, I seen the McIntire bank and the McIntire general store as I rode in. Real respected citizens I'd say. They pay your salary too?"

The sheriff's eyes turned cold as ice.  "I want you out of Rawlings. Take my advice and head back to Laramie tonight."

Jess's hand dropped to rest on the butt of his gun. "Sheriff, I'm tired. I ain't going nowhere. And when I do ride back to Laramie, the McIntires are going to be riding with me."

The sheriff studied Jess. His eyes moved from the determined look on Jess's face to his hand resting on his gun. The sheriff's face relaxed into a small smile. "Tell you what. Why don't we talk this over with them?  After all, I ain't heard their side."

Jess weighed the sheriff's words then slowly gave a nod. "All right. But nothing they say is going change my mind. I'm taking them back to Laramie.  Dead or alive. The choice is theirs."

"Well, son,  let's go to my office. I'll send a rider out to get them." He turned to the bartender. "How about going to the livery and riding out there? You ain't going to have no more customers tonight."

The bartender threw down his apron as if angry but he left without saying a word. As Jess and the sheriff walked to the lawman's office, Jess saw the bartender ride a horse out of town, heading in the direction of the McIntire Ranch..


CHAPTER SIX

If Jess hadn't been so tired, he would have been more guarded. As soon as they walked into the sheriff's office, the lawman closed the door behind them. Jess turned and studied the office. "Just like the jail in Laramie," Jess remarked, seeing the pot belly stove with the coffee pot on it.

"Well then you should feel right at home in one of them cells," the sheriff said.

Jess turned with questioning eyes. The sheriff was aiming the gun right at Jess.  "Raise your hands and keep your back to me. Or this shotgun will go off.."

Jess's face registered shock.  He had no choice but to follow orders. The sheriff carefully reached for Jess's gun. "Keep those hands up! Don't mind telling you that I'm awful nervous right now. Being nervous makes a man want to shoot his gun. Now you don't want to do anything that would get me more nervous."

Jess raised his hands even higher.

The sheriff  tossed Jess's weapon on his desk, out of Jess's reach. With the tip of the shotgun he pushed roughly against Jess's back. "Now get in that cell."

Jess glanced over his shoulder at the sheriff.   "You're locking me up? On what charge?"

"I want this to be a peaceful talk. Like I said, I ain't heard their side of this."

"And when you do?"

"Already told you that the McIntires are respected citizens in Rawlings. You're not. So who do you think I'm going to believe?"

"Telegraph the sheriff in Laramie. He'll tell you!"

"We ain't got no telegraph. 'Spect a fellow could disappear here and no would ever be the wiser.  Now get in that cell."

As the sheriff locked the cell door, Jess silently cursed himself for not riding to the McIntire spread instead of coming into Rawlings. He remembered clearly Mort's warning about this sheriff.

Jess tried to think but he was so tired that he couldn't concentrate. He knew he was in trouble but his exhaustion wouldn't let him formulate a plan.

"You know, son, I've been sheriff in this town for now going on thirty years. I'm too old to pack up and leave. Reckon when them McIntires boys get here, I'm going to have to make a hard decision about you."

Jess grabbed the cell bars. "It will be murder and you know it."

"Ain't that what you got plan for them? You said dead or alive. I reckon it would be much easier bringing them in dead than alive."


CHAPTER SEVEN

The hour was turning late. Night had fallen. Jess knew his wait to see the McIntires wouldn't be long now. Despite the danger, Jess had drifted off to sleep. His sleep hadn't been long, just a quick nap; but it had been long enough to refresh him.

The sheriff stood and stretch. "I'm going to mosey down to the saloon. I'll be back after supper. Now don't you go anywhere," he said with a laugh.

"Can I have a cup of coffee before you leave?"

The sheriff  hesitated.

"I'm thirsty. Come on, sheriff.  Even a prisoner gets something to drink. You got some coffee on that stove. Just one cup."

The sheriff  poured a half of cup of coffee.  He put the cup on the floor right outside the cell. "Get back, " he ordered.

Jess moved to the wall farthest from the cell door.

The sheriff drew his gun. He unlocked the cell then backed away quickly, keeping his gun pointed at Jess.  "All right. Open the door and get the cup."

Jess obeyed.

"Now get back inside."

Once again Jess moved to the far side of the cell. The sheriff hurriedly  locked the cell door. He threw the keys on his desk, well out of  the reach of Jess. Then he was gone.

Jess waited a few minutes then took off his belt. He tried to lasso the keys but his belt was way too short. Finally in frustration he tossed his belt on the cot. "You're in one big mess of trouble, boy," he said out loud to himself.  "You know what the McIntires are going do to you. They've already tried to kill you once." He grinned as he realized he was talking about himself as if  he was talking to another person. Before living at the Sherman Ranch, he had spent many a lonely night camped out on the range. He had often talked to himself just to hear a human voice. Then it had been comforting. Now it scared him, for there was no comfort as he heard only fear in his voice. He began pacing the cell. Back and forth he moved like a caged animal. Finally he gave up
and sat down on the cot. He raised the cup to his lips. Then stopped before he drank. The idea had come to him that quick.  "You know what you got to do, boy. You don't want them McIntires to get  you. You know what you got to do." For one brief second he hesitated for he knew it was going to hurt. But like he had told himself, he had no other option.



CHAPTER EIGHT

The sheriff  walked into his office, whistling a tune. His whistle died on his lips. "I'll be damned!" he mumbled. He grabbed the keys off his desk and raced to the cell. He fumbled with the keys. Finally he was able to open the cell door. He hurried to Jess. "Boy, what have you done?" he said out loud as he knelt down by the cot. Jess laid there, his arm outstretched.. Blood covered his wrist. On the floor, the china cup was shattered. A piece of the china cup was smeared with blood. This
bloody piece of china laid on the floor, close to Jess's arm. "Guess you figured this was better than being tortured and shot by them," the sheriff mumbled as he reached out and touched Jess's  neck, trying to find a pulse.  Jess moved so quick that the sheriff didn't have time to do anything but gasp with shock.  Jess locked his arm around the sheriff's neck and tighten.

 "I'll kill you," Jess warned.  "So if you want to live you do everything I tell you to do."

The sheriff  wheezed as he gasped for air. He nodded once, twice, a third time before Jess loosen his hold.

"Harper, you won't get away with-"

Again Jess squeezed. The sheriff's hand grabbed for Jess's arm as the sheriff  fought to get air.

Jess said, "You talk only when I say to talk."

Jess tighten his squeeze even more. The sheriff nodded his head.  Jess's arm dropped. The sheriff took one breath before Jess again put him in a head lock. The sheriff  tried to struggle but with each move, Jess's hold tighten. Finally the sheriff  weakly gave up. Jess pushed him against the far cell wall. The sheriff collapsed to the floor of the cell. Jess shut the door and turned the key in the lock. He then grabbed his gun off the desk. Jess made sure the chamber was full of bullets, then he slipped it into his empty holster. He moved back to the cell.

The sheriff was breathing better but still huffing.  The sheriff's hand rubbed his neck. "Now what?" he said between gasps for air.

"Now we wait for the McIntires." Jess unlocked the cell door and entered.

Fear flashed across the sheriff's face. "Are you going to kill me?"

Jess smiled. "I should. No telling who else came looking for them McIntires and you didn't believe their story either. Stand up."

The sheriff pushed himself up. He swayed as he stood.

Jess didn't even draw his gun as he ordered. "Go sit in the chair at your desk."

"What are you going to do to me?"

Jess grabbed the sheriff's shoulder and pushed him towards the outside of the cell. The sheriff almost fell to his knees, for the push had been hard.

"You either walk or I drag you there," Jess threaten.

"All right! I'm going. I ain't none too steady after what you did to me."

"Quit your belly aching and get over there and sit down."

The sheriff slowly walked to the chair then sat. He watched Jess go through the drawers of his desk. "You know, boy, the law is going chase after you for doing this. You're going be a wanted man. 'Course if you rode away now."

"I'd only be a wanted man? You keep forgetting I'm the law too." Jess found what he had been looking for.

"What you going do with them?" the sheriff questioned, his voice loud with fear.

"Now what do you usually do with handcuffs?" Jess asked, before securing the sheriff's hands to the arms of the chairs with the handcuffs. Jess looked quickly around the room. Finally he pulled out of his own pocket a dirty handkerchief.

"No, don't! I won't say a word. I promise. Just don't-"

Jess stuff the filthy handkerchief into the sheriff's mouth. He turned the chair so anyone entering the office could only see the sheriff's back.  He dimmed the lantern's light so the room was filled with shadows. Jess quickly doubled the blanket on the cot in the cell and covered it with a blanket he got from the other cell so it looked as if a person was asleep on the cot. He shut the cell door. He found a pitcher with water and he washed his arm. Then he pulled up his jean leg. He knew he needed medical care. He had cut his leg to get blood to stain his wrist. Already an ugly red line dotted his skin where he had used the china to pierce his skin.  The skin was swollen around the cut and his leg was beginning to hurt when he walked. His stiff jeans scraped against his raw skin every time he moved.

"You got any medical supplies?" Jess waited a moment then growled, "Answer me! You can nod."

The sheriff nodded no.

"You'd lie if you did." Jess searched but found nothing. Suddenly he heard footsteps outside the door. He was forced to abandon taking care of himself.

He quietly and quickly moved against the wall, behind the door which opened to the outside. He stood in the shadows, waiting for this door to open. To Jess it seemed an eternity; but in reality the door swung open within a few seconds.


CHAPTER NINE

The McIntires entered the jail as if they owned it.  They called out the sheriff's name as they walked to the desk.  Jess slammed the door shut as he stepped out of the shadows.

With confusion, the McIntires's heads jerked towards Jess.

Jess grinned as he greeted,  "You didn't think this was over? Did you, boys?"

Their hands dropped to their guns.

"You touch those guns and I'll blow your arms off.  I swear I will!  Now get your hands up in the air. Do it!"

Both raised their hands high.

"We didn't shoot that boy," Ben informed.

"Sure you did," Jess replied.

"Then let the sheriff  here arrest us," Johnny argued.

"I'm taking you back to Laramie. How you get there-alive or dead-is up to you boys," Jess cautioned.

"You won't get away with this," Ben threatened.

Jess only smiled. "Turn around."

"What are you going to do?"

"Turn around."

"And if we don't? You ain't going to kill us," Ben said. "You're bluffing."

"That's right," Johnny agreed. "'Cause you shoot. The town's going hear you. You won't have time to put us on a horse and-"

"'Spect you're right," Jess agreed.

Ben's eyebrows rose with surprise.

"About loading you on the horse," Jess clarified. "But I can shoot you  and be out that door and riding out of town before anyone gets here. And I'll be long gone before they get word to your spread. So are you going to turn around? Or do we end this right here?"

Seeing the look on Jess's face, both McIntires realized that Jess was serious. He would shoot to kill. Each McIntire had no doubt about that. Without another protest, both men turned. Quietly Jess approached each. With the butt of his gun, Jess suddenly hit each on the head, causing them to fall to the ground unconscious. He quickly tied their hands with rope, he had found hanging on the wall.

It took Jess only a few seconds to lead their horses around to the back of the jail. There in the alley no one saw him placing each man across a saddle as if he was a sack of floor. In less than ten minutes, Jess and the McIntires were galloping towards Laramie.


CHAPTER TEN

Mort had underestimated Jess. Jess had brought the McIntires boys in as he promised. And he had brought them in alive. Oh, they had a few bruises on them. Jess claimed they had tried to escape. They claimed Jess had used them as punching bags. Mort figured there was some truth in both statements. But since Mort didn't have much sympathy for the McIntires, he chose to ignore their complaints.

As Mort locked the cell door on the McIntires, Slim Sherman entered the sheriff's office. A smile immediately formed on Jess's face.  It was the first smile Jess had worn in days.

"When did you get back?" Jess greeted.

"This morning. You look like you've been dragged behind a horse."

Jess chuckled. "And I feel like it." His face suddenly lost his smile. "How's Andy?" Worry lined Jess's face.

"He's going be all right."

Jess uttered a loud sigh of relief.

Slim added, "He lost a lot of blood but the doc says he'll be fine." Slim moved to the cell, staring at the McIntires.  "I see you brought them back."

Jess nodded. "I'm ready to ride to the ranch. I want see Andy."

Slim turned, facing Jess. "I don't think you should go back to the ranch."

Jess's smile faded.  The Sherman Ranch had become his home. Slim, Andy, and Jonesy had become his family. Jess had tried putting up his gun. He should have known that sooner or later, his past would ruin his future. Well he couldn't blame Slim for wanting him to move on. But he sure
wanted to see Andy just one more time. If nothing else to see for himself that Andy was all right. "I see. Well...I understand, Slim." He stared down at the floor. "What about my gear? You bring it?"

Slim sat down on the corner of Mort's desk. "You going somewhere?"

Jess head snapped up. As he glanced quickly at Slim, his forehead wrinkled with confusion.

Slim continued, "Because I think you and me should stay here to help Mort. We all know Tom McIntire is going to come to get his boys. Mort's going need some help. You're already deputized. How about it, Mort? Want deputize me?"

Mort grinned. "With pleasure. Ain't many going want to stand up to Tom McIntire."

"You know Jess. Andy sure is anxious to see you. So is Jonesy. He was mighty worried about you." Slim glanced at Jess. He carefully chose his words as he spoke,  "Jonesy told me what you said. Jess, this ain't your fault. Anyone who's lived around Laramie for long can tell you that the McIntire boys are known for getting in trouble. I never heard of them ambushing anyone before. But I guess it was just a matter of time."


CHAPTER ELEVEN

And it was just a matter of time before Tom McIntire rode into town. Three days later, he rode down the main street with the Rawlings sheriff riding beside him. Tom was a big man, standing over six feet tall. His dark tan face was lined with deep wrinkles. He looked as if he could
fight a grizzly bear and easily win. As he rode, his eyes constantly searched as if he expected trouble any moment.

They stopped their horses in front of the sheriff's office. "Mort Corley," Tom called loudly.

Mort stepped out of his office. Slim and Jess followed behind him. Both Slim and Jess kept their hands rested on the butts of their guns.  Mort leaned against the rail, looking much more relaxed than he felt.

"Morning Tom," Mort greeted pleasantly..

Tom's eyes wandered to Slim then to Jess before landing once again on Mort. "I'm told you have my boys locked up."

Mort nodded.

"I come to pay their fine."

"Ain't that simple this time."

Tom pushed back his Stetson as if to give himself a clearer view of Mort. "I'm told they shot someone."

"A fourteen year old boy," Jess snarled.

Tom's stare moved to Jess. "You the one that took my boys?"

Jess nodded.

"I'm placing you under arrest," the Rawlings sheriff announced.

"For what?" Jess shot back.

"Escaping from my jail."

"What was he locked up for, Ray?" Mort asked, moving his hand so that it now rested on his gun.

"He threaten our citizens."

"I threaten to bring them boys back," Jess clarified. "And I did."

"He's my deputy. He had a right," Mort argued.

"Not in Rawlings."

"You ain't in Rawlings now. You're in Laramie," Mort snarled as he stood up straight.  "Jess stays here." His eyes moved from the sheriff to McIntire. "And so does your boys, Tom. The judge will be here in a couple of weeks. They'll stand trial. Whether they go to prison for attempted murder is up to the jury."

Tom's stare shifted to Slim. "We've done business."

Slim replied, "Yes sir. You bought some of my horses."

"I did business with your Pa too."

"I know that."

Tom chewed on his lip before saying, "Maybe we can make a deal. I might be interested in buying more horses at top price."

Slim's frown seem to fill his face. "You're wanting too much already. I ain't going to be paid to not bring up a charge against your sons. The boy they shot was my brother. And you know you ain't yet asked if my brother is going be all right."

Tom answered, "I'm sorry about your brother. I truly am. But them boys are all I got. I lost their Ma a few years ago. I won't lose my sons too. You should all know that." His eyes moved to each.

"Then hire them a good attorney," Mort suggested.

"Seems to me they're already tried and found guilty in Laramie," Tom said. He turned his horse and galloped away, with the sheriff from Rawlings riding behind him.

Slim let out a long sigh of relief.  "I thought for sure he'd have some guns with him."

"That was too easy," Mort remarked. "Way too easy."

"Maybe he ain't going to fight," Slim said.

"The Tom McIntire I know won't back down from any man," Mort observed. "No that was too easy."

"Now what?" Jess asked.

"I think we should stay around a couple more days," Slim announced. "'Cause Mort's right. That was too easy."


CHAPTER TWELVE

Usually by mid day the main street of Laramie was lined with horses, buggies, and buckboards. But today it was quiet. The towns people were out and about. But there had been no one from the various ranchers in the town. And the stage was late, very late by hours now instead of
minutes. Mort, Slim, and Jess stood outside the sheriff's office just watching the near empty street. Slim leaned against the log wall, while Jess sat in a chair, his feet propped on the hitching post. Mort stood like a statute with his arms crossed over his chest.  For the tenth time, Slim checked his pocket watch.

Suddenly dust was seen in the distant.

"It's the stage," Slim announced with a grin. "What do you want to bet that Ole Mose stayed too long eating at our place?  Jonesy must have baked an apple pie."

"The stage is coming in awful fast," Jess observed. "Too fast!" He jumped out of his chair and ran into the street.

With his left hand, Mose pulled hard on the reins. But limited to using only one hand, Mose's strength was not enough to stop the galloping horses.  Jess ran along with the horses, then jumped up on the back of the lead horse. He grabbed hold of the horses's harness and held on. He
pulled back hard on the reins.  Finally after riding on  the horse for several feet, Jess was able to stop the horses.  Mose leaned his head back against the stage. Beads of sweat was on his forehead.

"Mose, what happen?" Slim asked as he climbed up on the seat beside Mose. He took hold of the reins and secured them. Then turned to Mose and studied his arm.  Mose's left shirt sleeve was wet with blood. "Who shot you?"

"Tom McIntire. He's at your place, Slim."

"What!" Fear raced across Slim's face.

"Are Jonesy and Andy all right?" Jess asked quickly as he moved from the horses to the stage..

"They were. Andy tried running. But Tom lassoed him. Dragged him some. His wound opened up again. But Jonesy bandaged it."

"Why did McIntire shoot you?" Mort asked.

"Said I was a warning that he meant everything he told me to tell you, Slim. He wants to trade. His boys for Jonesy and Andy. If you don't do the trade, he swears he'll kill them. He says you're going kill his boys putting them in prison. He says his boys ain't going get a fair trial in Laramie."

"Where's he want to do this trade at?" Slim asked.

"Your place. Jess is to bring them. He's to come alone. And Slim, if you're thinking on following well he told me to tell you that he's got men stationed just outside of town, both ends watching with a rifle. Ain't no one getting in and no getting out. Except Jess and the McIntire boys. He told me to tell you that."

"I'll saddle the horses," Jess said turning to leave.

"You can't!" Slim argued. "He'll kill you for sure."

"He'll kill Jonesy and Andy if I don't go," Jess argued back.

"Jess, he wants you to come unarmed. Said he has binoculars.  He'll see a gun or rifle if you're carrying it long before you get to the cabin. He says he wants you there in two hours or he'll start with Andy. And he means to kill Andy if you don't come."

Mort hit the side of the stage with his fist, startling the horses. "He's got everything figured out. After the trade he'll hightail it back across the line. Then I can't touch him."

"What about the Marshall?"

"Knowing Tom, he'll send those boys out of the country. And I can hear his argument now. He'll say they were taken illegally by Jess to Laramie. That Jess had no legal right.  And he just rescued them. He's got the sheriff from Rawlings on his side. It'll come down to his word against Jess. And we got to find a way to help Jess now. If we wait for the Marshall to get here, well that'll be too late. It'll take him days to get here. And if Jess is killed at your place, well, who's to say what happen at your cabin. The McIntires can claim Jess went for a gun. The McIntires and the Rawlings sheriff will be the only witnesses."

Slim helped Mose down from the stage. "You need a doctor. I'll help you."

"Slim, I got this far by myself. I can walk over to the doc's.  Don't fret about me. Just worry about-" His eyes glanced at Jess.  Mose had always teased Jess. But now he looked at Jess with the deep friendship he had always felt. "Take care, Jess." Quietly he walked away.

Slim opened his pocket watch. "Two hours ain't much time to figure out what to do."

Jess said, "I know what to do, Slim."

Slim started to argue, but Jess interrupted by announcing, "I need a drink before I leave." Jess  walked briskly to the saloon. Slim and Mort entered a few seconds later.

"Leave the bottle," Jess ordered before gulping down the whiskey.  Jess quickly refilled his glass.

Slim and Mort joined him that the bar. Mort stood on one side of Jess. Slim stood on the other side.  Slim noticed that Jess's hands were trembling.

Jess said softly, "If uh I don't make it, I got some money saved in the bank. I want it to go to Andy. I've been saving for his birthday present. I know he wants a new saddle. I about got enough saved."

Slim had already bought Andy a new saddle and had it hidden in the barn.  He had planned to put his and Jess's names on this present. He had never dreamed that Jess had been saving for a saddle too. "Jess, I'm going to ride out there instead of you. Tom McIntire will still get his boys and-"

"He might just shoot you for not going along with his plan. He shot Mose didn't he? And if you get him mad enough, he may just shoot Andy and Jonesy just to be spiteful. No,  he wants my hide." Jess threw his head back swallowing the whiskey. He set the glass down hard on the bar. "And
that's what he's going get."

Mort nursed his beer. "There's got to be a way to outfox him. Maybe Slim and me could come up behind the cabin."

"The sheriff  will probably be looking out the back. He'll spot you. Slim's got his cabin angled so he can see anyone trying to attack. Slim's Pa planned that cabin well."

"Jess, I can't ask you to die for Andy," Slim said.

"You don't have to." Jess unbuckled his gun belt.  "I've already made my mind up. I'm going out there." Jess handed the gun belt to Slim. He then turned to leave.

"Jess-" Slim grabbed hold of Jess's arm.

"Look Slim, I'm the only chance Andy and Jonesy have to stay alive. We both know that. Now I'm willing to do this."

"But-"

"The way I lived, I always figured I'd die young." Jess's brave eyes met Slim's worried eyes. "You don't know how much living at your cabin meant to me. I had drifted a long time."

"Well I haven't given up yet," Slim said with determination.  "Damn, there's got to be another way.  There just has to be!"


CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Jess drove the stage coach into the yard of the Sherman Ranch.  Slowly he dismounted from the stage seat.

Tom McIntire opened the door of the cabin.  In his hands he held a rifle. He moved to the porch. "Well Harper, you did come. Turn around."

Jess held his hands high and made a circle. "Satisfied? I ain't got no weapon."

"Lift your shirt."

Jess unbuttoned his flannel shirt and lifted it high, exposing his chest. Jess's body was firm and muscular, with not even an ounce of fat marring his skin. "I did like you said. I ain't wearing a gun."

"Take your boots off."

Jess hesitated.

"Come on, boy. Take them off."

Jess took of the left boot then the right boot. The knife fell out of the right boot.

"I've used that trick myself," Tom said. "Slid it over here. Gently now."

Jess's right foot kicked at the knife, causing dust to spray. Tom picked up the knife. Jess hurriedly put on his boots then stood. Jess dodged as the knife wheeze by his ear and stuck in the side of the stagecoach.

Tom McIntire smiled. "I got a good aim, boy. You best remember that." Tom waved his rifle at the stage, "I wasn't expecting this. Where's my sons?"

Jess nodded towards the stage. "Inside."

Tom's eyes roamed across the stage coach. There was no tarp on top so no one was hidden there.

"Why a blanket on the seat?"

"I got hurt in Rawlings." Jess lifted a pant leg, exposing the cut. "Doc says I have a fever. I get chills."

"Why the stage?"

"That's your fault," Jess replied. "Mose said you dragged Andy and opened up his wound. I didn't know if he could ride a horse. So I figure Jonesy could drive him out of here. 'Sides with Jonesy's bad back, he can't tolerate riding a horse. Jonesy wouldn't make it off the ranch. Would have brought a buckboard but there ain't a rancher in town with one. You seen to that, closing off the roads. And ain't that many owned by anyone living in town. And for some reason no one seem to think I was going bring back their buckboard so they weren't willing to loan it out. Afraid the stage was my only choice. I didn't mind 'cause with a stage, your boys ride inside so I don't have to have them riding behind my back and me wearing no gun."

Tom ordered,  "I want to see my boys. And if there's someone in that coach with them-"  He pulled back the hammer on his gun.

"Relax. There ain't. I came alone like you wanted." Jess opened the stage door. He reached inside and roughly pulled out one by one the McIntire boys. Their hands were tied tightly with rope and they were gagged.

Smiles lit Johnny and Ben's faces as they finally saw their father.

"Get those gags off," Tom commanded, his voice betraying the concern for his sons's welfare that  he felt.

Jess removed the gags but since he had no knife he was helpless to remove the ropes for the knot had been stretched by the McIntires trying to escape.

As soon as the gag left Ben's face, he spit. His tongue snaked over his dry lips. "Sure am glad to see you, Pa," Ben greeted.

"Shut up!" Tom growled. "How could you get in a mess like this?"

"Pa, we never did nothing-"

"I said shut up! I'm handling this." Tom called out over his shoulder. "Bring them out."

The Rawlings sheriff  pushed Jonesy and Andy through the open cabin doorway.

"Jess!" Andy cried out with a smile.

For a brief moment Jess smiled a greeting then his attention turned quickly to Tom. "You're going to keep the deal, ain't you? And let them go? I did my part."

Tom's head bobbed as he said, "My word's good. All of  Wyoming knows that."

He motioned to the Rawlings sheriff.  The sheriff  hurriedly walked to the McIntire boys and then cut the ropes that secured their hands. Released from bondage, each rubbed their wrists. As Ben walked by Jess, he turned and hit him with his fist, landing the blow in Jess's stomach. Jess groaned with pain as he bent over.  Johnny followed with a kick, first to Jess's side,  then to Jess's stomach.  Jess uttered another moan of pain as he collapsed to the ground. With head bent; his arms wrapped around his stomach. Softly he moaned.

"Jess!" Andy started forward but Tom grabbed him, pulling Andy back.

Andy gave a short yelp for Tom's fingers dug into his sore arm.  Jess looked up hurriedly at Andy. His eyes closely scrutinizing Andy.

"Johnny!" Tom's voice stopped Johnny from again striking Jess. "That will be enough. Now get inside both of you."

Johnny wanted to do more. Ben's face showed that he did too. But both sons immediately obeyed their father's orders and entered the cabin.

Tom's hold on Andy's arm tighten as Andy squirmed. He jerked Andy hard. "Now listen here, boy. Both of you listen to me." His eyes moved to Jonesy then back to Andy. "And you listen good. You get on that stage and ride back to Laramie."

"What about Jess?" Jonesy asked.

"He's staying. You or anyone come looking for him and I'll shoot him dead."

"You taking him to Rawlings with you?" Jonesy asked.

"He's officially my prisoner," the sheriff stated. "I'm holding him on kidnaping charges."

Tom pushed Andy forward. "Both of you go while I'm still a mind to keep this deal I made."

Jess had yet to stand up straight. He was still bent over in the dirt, his arms hugging his stomach.   Jess was softly moaning with each breath that he took. As Jonesy and Andy passed by him, Jonesy stopped and asked, "How hurt are you, boy?"

"Keep walking," Jess whispered.

Jonesy gently pushed Andy towards the stage.

"But Jonesy we can't leave him here!" Andy protested as he turned back to look at Jess.

Jonesy opened the door. "Get in the stage, Andy. Go on. There ain't nothing we can do to help Jess."

With tears in his eyes, Andy glanced one last time over his shoulder before he got into the stage. Jonesy climbed up into the driver's seat. For a moment he stopped, not climbing into the seat.

"Something wrong?" Tom called out.

Jonesy glanced over his shoulder. "You hurt Jess, I'll come looking for you."

Tom's laugh loudly.  "You do that, old man.  I'll be waiting for you."

Jonesy's body stiffen as if an iron rod had been placed against his back as his face showed his rage. He sat down in the seat. He braced both legs against the wood, instead of letting them dangle.

"Get out of here, Jonesy," Jess commanded.

Jonesy clicked his lips and slapped the reins, the horses took off.

Johnny and Ben appeared in the doorway.

"You boys all right?" Tom asked, his voice sounding deeply concern.

"Yea, Pa," Ben answered, "though Harper here weren't none too gentle the way he brought us back to Laramie."

"Once we get to Rawlings there'll be time for justice," Tom stated.

"You mean time for payback," Jess corrected as he eased himself into a half standing position. His  hands were now on his thighs and he was still bent over, every now and then he moaned.

"What's wrong, Harper? I break a rib or two?" Ben taunted.

Jess pressed his lips together as if in pain.

"Well you're going to ride back to Rawlings the way you got us here. You're going over that saddle like a bag of grain.  Pa, he just threw us over the saddle. Hours we rode like that. And with him hurting, it'll be pure pleasure to see him carted back home like that."

"What the hell!" Tom cried out.

Jonesy had pulled the stagecoach to a stop several feet away.

Jess turned. "I reckon Andy got sick. The way you grabbed his arm. It might be bleeding again. See Jonesy is getting in the coach with him. The deal's still on. Ain't nothing to worry about. Should just be a minute for Jonesy to tend to Andy."

"Didn't mean to be so rough with the boy," Tom mumbled almost apologetic. But his voice harden as he said to his two sons,  "Once the stage gets out of sight, Harper's yours. You'll have ten minutes alone with him then we ride."

"That's all we need, Pa," Ben replied. "That's all we need."

Suddenly Slim jumped up from the floor of the driver's seat. He grabbed the reins, yelling to the horses. He pulled hard, turning the horses to run towards the cabin.

"It's a trap!" Tom barely managed to say before Jess pulled the derringer out from a pocket sewed inside his hat. He shot at Tom, hitting him in the chest.

"Pa!" Ben screamed as both McIntires knelt beside their father.

The sheriff pulled out his gun and fired. Jess dove to the ground. Jess was back on his feet and running towards the horse trough for cover. The sheriff fired twice. The bullets barely missed wounding Jess. Slim pulled the stage in front of Jess giving him cover, then he jumped down
behind the stage.

The sheriff did the unexpected. He raced to the stage. With Slim and Jess on one side of the stage and the sheriff on the other, none of the men were sure who was where. The sheriff  walked quietly along the length of the stage. He suddenly stopped and smiled. Lying flat on the floor and on the inside seat of the stage was Andy and Jonesy. The sheriff cocked his gun and pointed it through the stage window. "You two boys come out now or I'll shoot the boy and the old man."

Jess motioned to Slim. Slim nodded his head with understanding. Jess slid under the stage as Slim walked around the stage to face the sheriff.

"Throw the gun down boy!" the sheriff said as soon as Slim appeared.

Slim tossed his weapon to the ground.

"Where's Harper?"

"Jess is shot. Pretty bad. He's lying on the ground on the other side of the stage," Slim explained. He heard Andy gasp.

Jonesy said quickly, "No Andy, stay down."

"Stay in there, Andy," Slim ordered quickly, stopping Andy from leaving the stage.

"Let's go look," the sheriff commanded.

Slim walked very slowly to the other side of the stage. The sheriff followed him.

Jess watched the sheriff's feet moving.  Quietly Jess began scooting his body under thestage, moving slowly through the dirt.  As the sheriffand Slim rounded the corner of the stage; Jess eased his body out from under the stage. Jess had no weapon but he saw the knife sticking out from the stage's framework. He grabbed the knife and pulled it from the wood. Holding the knife in his hand, he now moved quickly to the other side of the stage as he heard the sheriff say, "Where's Harper? Tell me!"

"I'm right here," Jess announced, standing behind the sheriff. The sheriff's body suddenly tensed. He turned spotting Jess. The sheriff took aim.  Jess threw the knife. The sheriff fell to the ground, his gun landing several feet away, his chest bloody from the knife wound.

Slim's whole body relaxed. Jess glanced in the window to check on Jonesy and Andy. "Stay put," he ordered. He then started for the McIntire boys who were still kneeling by their father. As Jess rounded the stage, Ben looked up yelling, "The sheriff didn't get Harper."

Ben and Johnny stood at the same time. They had no weapons but neither did Jess. Ben started to pick up Tom's fallen rifle.

Slim had stopped to check on the sheriff. The man would soon be dead.

"I'm going kill you, Harper," Ben screamed out as his fingers reached out for the rifle. The bullet from Slim's gun stopped his movement. Ben and Johnny turned and ran into the cabin..  Jess started to follow.

 "Jess!" Slim yelled before throwing him Tom's rifle.

Both Slim and Jess entered the house. The McIntires had been tearing up the house looking for weapons. Johnny was unarmed but Ben had grabbed the rifle over the fireplace. He pointed it as Jess.

"If I go to hell today, so will you," Ben challenged.

Jess didn't back down. "Your aim was off last time. What makes you think it's going to be any better this time?"

Fear struck Ben as a tremble raced through his body. He pulled the trigger.

Jess leaped to the side. The bullet flew past him, so close that Jess felt it.  Jess aimed and fired the rifle. Ben fell backwards. He was dead before he hit the floor.

Johnny's eyes moved from Ben to Jess. He screamed angrily, cussing. He lunged for Jess. The rifle fell from Jess's hands. They rolled on the ground, each trying to hit the other. Slim tried to get a clear shot but there was none as the bodies were tangled. Johnny  held on to Jess as if he were a vine wrapping itself around a tree. Finally Jess's fist struck upwards, hitting Johnny  beneath the chin. Johnny 's head jerked back. It was all Jess needed. He hit again, striking him in the eye. Johnny rolled off  Jess, landing on the rifle. Johnny  grabbed for the gun. Slim fired his rifle. The first bullet missed but the second hit Johnny , striking him in the shoulder. Slim fired a third time, striking Johnny in the stomach. Jess moved to Johnny. He placed his foot on the rifle. Johnny 's fingers unlatched their hold on the weapon. Johnny's eyes slowly closed. He was dead.

Jess glanced with thankfulness at Slim. Slim said nothing, only nodded with a smile. They moved to the porch. Andy was kneeling by Tom.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, boy," Tom whispered.

Andy replied, "I'm fine."

"They were my sons. They're still alive ain't they?"

Andy looked up at Slim. Slim moved to Tom. He could see the old man was dying. "They're alive."

"You tell them to get a good lawyer. I always wanted them to take over the ranch. Raise their families there and-" He wheezed, tried to cough, then he was gone.

"Why did you lie, Slim?" Jess asked.

"Because he was dying. I figured why not make it peaceful for him. I reckon he tried to be a good father but-"

Andy stood. He turned and ran to Jess. "Boy, was I worried about you!"

"Me?"

"You were bent over and you sounded like you were in awful pain. Are you all right?"

"I was bent over so they'd think I was too weak to fight. I thought you two were never going to
hightail it out of here."

"Well we hated leaving you," Jonesy mumbled. "And I wasn't sure there was room for me to sit up there. Not with Slim stretched out. His head and back on the floor and his legs propped up on the seat. He didn't leave much room."

Slim laughed. "I couldn't get all of my body on the floor so I had to prop my legs on the seat and hide them with a blanket."

"It was close quarters," Jess added with a grin.

Andy studied the derringer. "Where did you get a derringer from?"

"Present from a saloon gal that those boys roughed up.  She's the one that sewed the pocket in my hat."

"The same hat them McIntires shot up?" Andy observed.

Jess nodded.

Andy grinned.  "See I told it was still a good hat."

"Then you weren't hurt?" Jonesy asked, his eyes watching Jess carefully.

"Just some scrapes that's all. Nothing to fret about," Jess said.

Andy bear hugged Jess.

"What about you?" Jess pulled him away and studied him closely.

"Aw, it'll take more than a bullet to put me out," Andy bragged.

Jonesy leaned against the hitching post. "A bullet don't bother you but doing your chores does."

Andy laughed. "After what we went through Jonesy, I'll be glad to get out of the cabin. He kept us in there standing for hours. Jonesy's back hurt him something fierce."

Slim's eyes went from Jess to Andy to Jonesy. "Well it looks like I'll be the only one doing the chores for a time. What with the rest of you recuperating."

"Well-" Andy began but Jess playfully elbowed him. "Slim, I guess that's right," Jess agreed. "And I guess you'll have to do the cooking and cleaning and-"

"And every other chore on the place." Slim laughed.  "Jess, you feeling at least strong enough to ride and pick up those men McIntire left on the trail."

"That's something I'm looking forward to. Getting rid of anything that has to do with McIntires."

"Then let's ride."

"We'll be here waiting for you," Jonesy said as he placed his hand protectively on Andy's shoulder. "Hurry home."

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