Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 
   The Man From Eagle Creek
   Chapter Twelve
   Tom had noticed the door up high on the back of the barn and when he
went back in to bed down for the night, he stepped up on the top rail of
the stall partition to see what was up there.  There was a small loft over
the tack room and some hay piled up by the door.  `This is where I'll
sleep' Tom thought.
   He came back down and opened his bedroll on the floor of the barn near a
stall.  He stuffed some hay inside the bedroll and pulled the top over it,
placing his hat as if it were covering his face.  Emptying the cartridges
out of his Henry rifle, he leaned it against the wall by the bedroll.
   Tom grabbed two blankets that were folded on the stall rail and climbed
up into the small loft.  He could see the three horses in the low light of
the rising moon.  Tom saw his horse shining in the light, his mane and tail
white as snow.
   Tom pulled his flute out and blew his breath up and down the long
slender tube to remove any dust.  He put the piece to his mouth and
breathed life into the flute, making the sounds of the plains come to life
and whisper through the barn loft.  The soft drifting sounds floated out
over the corrals, and across the pastures.  Into the open windows of the
ranch house the soft whispering sounds came, as if riding on the night
breeze.  The soft sounds carried to the pillows where the Canady's lay
listening to the beautiful but sorrowful music playing softly in the night.
   He went to sleep and dreamed of Indian girls, bloody hands and horses
breeding.  He dreamed of naked butts playing in the water and pretty girls
doubled over laughing.
   Before first light Tom was up and shook the blankets out, he folded them
and took them back down to lay across the rail.  He took a lamp from the
shelf on the barn wall by the door and lit it.  When he went to the stall
to get his bedroll, a cold chill went through him as he saw a pitch fork
stuck through his bed roll where his chest would be.  He sat down and tried
to decide who would have done this.  The only answer he came up with was
Mr. Roller, the Canady ramrod.
   Tom's face began to burn, he felt an itch in his hands.  Tom was mad. 
Someone wanted him dead and for no reason at all.  He got his rifle and
loaded it, made sure that his Colt was loaded full.  Then he checked his
saddle bags to see if they had been tampered with.  Tom sat down on his
saddle and opened a box of .44's.  He filled the empty loops on his
gunbelt.
   Tom was mad and he was itchin' to find out who did this cowardly thing
in the night.  He remembered what his dad had told him, don't go looking
for a fight while you're mad.
   `I'll be cooled down some when I find out who wants me dead, then they
can worry about how mad I am' Tom thought.  Tom threw his saddle across the
blankets on the rail and walked out back of the barn to look around.  It
was too dark to see.  He walked back to the front of the barn and sat down
on a short wooden keg just inside the door but off to one side so as not to
be seen.
   Tom saw Runt come in the back door pulling his suspenders up over his
scrawny shoulders.  Runt walked to within six feet of Tom before he saw
him.
   "Damn Injun, you scared the shit out of me settin' there in the dark
like that, what the hell you doin' up so early anyway?"
   "You're up early too Runt, don't you sleep good?"
   "I always sleep good, I just don't sleep long hours, never did, even
when I was a kid.
   "You gonna be heading back to town this morning?"
   "I want to show off my horse one more time to Mr.  Canady, he wants to
see him run."
   "Well he's got a fast racing filly out there that he's gonna breed as
soon as she starts horsin'.  She ain't but three years old and she's damned
fast they said.  I bet he wants to run her against your stud to measure him
out."
   "Well we'll see won't we?
   "Runt did you hear anything last night here in the barn?"
   "No Tom I didn't, why?"
   "Just wondering is all."
   "There's one thing I've noted about you in the short time you been here,
you don't wonder out loud about nuthin'.  If you got something itchin and
scratchin' in yer head, you can let it out.  I ain't one to talk behind a
man's back."
   "Just keep your eyes and ears open for anything you don't think is
normal today, or if you see someone that seems nervous."
   "I don't know what's happened Tom, but I'll do as you say.  If I don't
get wind of anything I'll still keep an eye out when you leave too."
   "Thanks Runt, good to know you got my back."
   "Count on it Injun," Runt said with a grin that Tom could barely make
out in the gray light of early dawn.
   Dale Canady came across the yard as Tom and Runt stood there inside the
barn watching him, he had a tin plate in his hand with a cloth over it. 
Mr. Canady nearly stumbled when he saw Tom and Runt standing in the dark
barn.
   "Damn, what the hell are you two doing standing there in the dark, I
nearly spilled Runt's breakfast.
   "Runt here's a couple of the steaks left over from last night, thought
you might want to get your snaggled teeth tangled up in some good meat for
a change."
   "Hot Damn Mr.  Canady, that's real nice of you folks, I sure thank you."
   "Come on over to the house Tom, I told the cook to start rustling up
some breakfast, I knew you wanted to get a early start, but not `til after
we measure your horses speed."
   "What you got in mind Mr.  Canady, you got a horse you want to race
against him, or you just want to see him run?"
   "A little of both Tom.  Would you mind riding against Elizabeth, she's
about as good a rider as we got on the place and she would love to beat
you."
   "Don't bother me none Mr.  Canady, that is if the both of you won't get
upset when my horse kicks dirt on her."
   "You're really sure of that horse aren't you Tom?"
   "Yes Sir, I am.  You'll see Mr.  Canady."
   "I can hardly wait."
   They went in through a side door into the kitchen.  The cook looked up
and started putting breakfast on the table as they came in.
   Mr.  Canady walked over to the pump in the kitchen and pumped his hands
full of water, washed them then dried on a cloth hanging there.  Tom did
the same as he looked at the water pump inside the kitchen.  Who'd ever
thought of that.  The two sat down for an early meal of eggs, biscuits,
bacon, and gravy.
   Elizabeth came busting through the door from the dining room, walked to
her daddy and kissed his cheek and sat down next to him, smiling at Tom as
she looked up.
   "Morning Injun."
   "Morning Paleface,"
   Dale Canady laughed aloud as he looked at Tom and shook his head.  The
cook smiled and turned his head back to the stove.
   "Tom, you sure got some come backs for this young'un of mine, just what
she needed too.
   "Elizabeth, we're gonna let you ride the little Thoroughbred filly
against Tom's stud this morning, he said he hoped you didn't mind getting
some dirt kicked in your face."
   "I'm ready daddy, and we'll see who gets the dirt in their face.  That
is if they even get close enough to get hit by my dirt."
   Tom smiled at both of them and ate his breakfast.
   The three of them went out to the barn and Runt was told to go get the
little three year old and put the lightweight rig on her.
   Tom walked to the back of the barn and whistled shrilly through his
lips. Elizabeth and Mr.  Canady had walked to the back door too and looked
to see the big Palomino turn and break into a dead run right at the fence,
then leap high in the air as he easily cleared it, hitting the ground with
his white mane and tail flying.  The horse ran right up to Tom and put his
nose right to his chest and stood there while Tom rubbed his jaw and neck.
   Tom reached over and grabbed his saddle blanket and the big Spanish
saddle and threw over his horse and cinched it tight.
   "We're ready Sir," Tom said with a smile.
   "I have lighter saddles Tom if you'd like to use one."
   "This is the only saddle his sire used and the only one he's ever had on
his back.  This'll do."
   Runt led the long legged three year old filly into the barn and the stud
grunted his welcome to her as he sniffed the air.
   "She must be getting close," Tom said.
   "She isn't due for another three weeks yet," Mr.  Canady said.
   "She'll be horsin' in a week or less," Tom said matter of factly and
walked out of the barn, his horse right on his heels.
   They all walked out to the edge of the short pasture and through a gate.
   "Tom, you see that tall pole way out across the pasture there with the
whitewashed top and the flag on it?"
   "Yes Sir."
   "You'll ride out there, around the pole and back through this gate, that
is one mile.
   "How many times do we run it?" Tom asked
   "Injun, you are being funny now," Elizabeth said.
   Tom just looked at her.
   The wranglers had all walked out to the fence and were either leaned up
over it or sitting on top so they could see this.  Mrs.  Canady and her
other two daughters were here too.
   Mr.  Roller leaned over to the man next to him and said loudly, "Ain't
no injun pony ever out run a pure bred racer that I ever heered tell of."
   Tom swung to the back of his saddle without using the stirrups and Mr.
Canady helped Beth up on her skinny little saddle.
   "Runt, you stand out there with the flag in the air.  Riders, when the
flag comes down the race is on."
   "I'll see you when you get back Injun," Beth said as they sat side by
side on their horses.
   "Yep," Tom said.
   Runt dropped the flag and Beth cropped her horse hard across the rump,
Tom clicked his tongue and hooked the heels of his moccasins in his horses
flanks.  The long legged three year old jumped, with its front feet off the
ground as she sprang forward.  Tom's big horse left in a long stride and
was side by side Beth and her horse as they raced across the open land. 
Beth was whipping her horse with the crop and she picked up speed.
   About a hundred yards from the pole, Tom clicked his tongue and
hollered, `IYAYA'.  The big horse nearly ran from under him as he left Beth
and her horse in the flying dirt.  Tom leaned his knee into the right side
of his horse as they came to the pole.  They slid around the pole almost on
his side and came out with a stride that made Tom's eyes water in the wind.
   Halfway back, Tom clicked his tongue and patted his horse on the neck,
the big horse ran all out, its tail out behind and its mane flying up in
Tom's face.  When he got to the gate, Tom pulled his right knee in hard and
the big stud whirled around and started another lap.  They met Beth about
halfway and Tom tipped his big black hat to her.
   Tom ran his horse all out to the pole then back to the gate.  Beth had
just gotten off her mount when he rode up.  Everyone standing or sitting
there at the fence had their mouth open.  No one said a word as Runt ran to
Tom and shook his hand.
   "Damn Injun that was some kinda ridin' and that big sonofabitch'n horse
is the fastest thing I ever seen on four legs."
   "Tom I share Runts sentiments exactly, that was not a race, that was an
exhibition."
   "Injun I owe you an apology, I thought you were just braggin' about your
big fine horse, you don't brag do you?" Beth said as she shook his hand.
   "Never had a reason to brag Paleface, it ain't me that's doing the
runnin." Tom grinned.
   "I want to know what you yelled to your horse when you left me so fast."
   "I told him to GO."
   "Tom, we can have us some fun if you are agreeable, plus we can make a
little side money too if you are in," Mr.  Canady said.
   "As long as its legal, count me in I reckon," Tom said.
   Mr.  Canady counted out one six hundred dollars in gold and handed to
Tom.
   "Not gonna take your money, we agreed on two hundred for my stud.  He
stuck two mares, that's four hundred.  That's all I'm taking.  I don't take
money for helping people.  I'm not gonna take money for helping your
daughter."
   "Tom, I'll be in town later today, I hope you'll let me buy your
dinner," Mr.  Canady said.
   "Now that I can do Sir.  I need to be gettin' on back I reckon.  I told
the sheriff I'd be there early."
   "I sure do thank you and your family for the hospitality, and for
letting my stud spread his seed in your herd."
   They all said their goodbyes and Tom started out.  He looked back to see
Beth riding hard to catch up.
   "I know I'm making a fool of myself Injun, but I sure would like to see
you again, that is if you'd like to anyway."
   "I was planning on it Paleface." Tom smiled.
   "Injun, if you knew what I'm thinking right now you'd think I was a
shameless hussy but I don't care.  I just met you and I can't get you out
of my head.  I thought of you all night, I thought of us at the creek and
you making me laugh so hard I peed down my leg, I thought of you yesterday
as I watched your stud stick those mares, I thought of you as I saw you
race away from me this morning."
   Beth was crying because she was letting it all out to a half breed Sioux
she had just met.  She was making a complete fool of herself and she
couldn't help it.
   "I'm sorry Injun I just had to tell you, I'll let you go now.  Please
don't think of me as a sniveling little girl."
   "I'll never think of you as a sniveling little girl, I will always see
you as my Paleface friend.  I've not left town yet, I'll be here for
another five days at least.  I've already thought too that I didn't ride
but maybe four days slow to get here.  Not that far really from The
Dakotas."
   "You thought of all this Injun?  You just made me weak in the knees, do
you really like me?  I gotta go, see you soon." Beth whirled her horse and
raced back to the ranch.
   Before she was out of hearing, she heard, "See ya Paleface".  Elizabeth
started laughing so hard she had tears, `Damned Injun.'
   Tom let his horse pick his on gait and rode the trail back to town.  He
was proud of his horse and knew all the times they had ran across the
prairie for hours at a time had put strength in a horse that was already
full of heart and spirit from his breeding.
   Once again Tom pulled his flute from it's cylinder and blew the light
dust off the long wooden tube.  He gently touched his lips to the piece as
he rode the big horse slowly back to town.  The soft drifting sounds
carried across the open plains as his fingers slid smoothly from one hole
to the next along the length of the flute.  Tom let his mind seek and
linger on the events of the past few days.  His spirit was refreshed by the
soothing sounds of the Nakota Sioux.  Though he was far from his homeland,
he was at peace with himself and where was.  There was one nagging thought
that even the flute music couldn't get out of his mind.  He would tell the
sheriff about the pitch fork and see what his thoughts were.
   When Tom got back to town, he went straight to the boarding house.  He
had seen a sign on the front porch yesterday that read `Laundry Service'.
He left his shirt and buckskin breeches to be cleaned and the woman said
she would have them done by mid afternoon.  Tom went to the livery stable
and talked to Mr.  Langley for a while as he got his horse settled in.  He
took his Henry and walked up the street where he met the sheriff coming out
of the hotel.
   "Morning sheriff."
   "Morning Tom."
   The two walked back to the office where Tom told sheriff Keyes all about
his stay at the Canady Ranch.  Tom told him about the race and then told
him about the pitch fork he found in his bedroll.
   "Tom why did you feel that you needed to sleep in the loft and rig your
bedroll up like that anyway?"
   "Well, I just had a funny feeling about sleeping in that barn, you know
how sometimes you just do things without thinking?"
   "Yep, but you say that the only thing that happened out there was when
Roller cussed you and called you names?  He's a rough one, and likes to
bully folks around because of his size.  Don't think he's ever caused any
big problems that I know of.
   "He is rude as hell though, and spits his tobacco juice out on the floor
of the saloon when the spittoon is right by his chair.  I think he just
does that to rile up Bud the barkeep."
   "Sheriff you just said something that made my hair burr up on the back
of my neck.  You say Mr.  Roller chews tobacco?"
   "Yes, he just about always has his jaw all packed with a cud, why."
   "There was a big wad of tobacco juice right where the pitch fork was
stuck in my bedroll."
   "The hell you say Tom."
   "Yes Sir, sure was."
   "We'll keep an eye on him, he'll be in town tonight and most of the
weekend.  He isn't a hell raiser but likes to mock the lady folks and bully
the towns people some.  He gets a belly full of hooch and thinks he's some
kind of bad ass.  Mostly talk though is all I ever see out of him."
   "Thanks sheriff, I knew you'd know these folks better than anyone, I see
you watchin' just like I do."
   "You can learn more by watchin' a man than you can by askin' him
questions.  His mouth will lie to you, his actions won't."
   "Yep."
   The streets of the quiet little town had very little activity until mid
day.  Then the wagons came and stopped at Miller's store, the hardware
store and the hotel.  Soon there were wagons, mules and horses everywhere.
There were lone riders, and groups of riders.  The hitchin' rail at the
saloon was lined with horses.  Even the hitchin' rails at the stores on
either side of the saloon had horses tied up.
   Seemed a lot of working men wanted to wash the dust out of their gullet
and have a few drinks with their friends.  There were no gun laws in town,
never was a cause to tell a man to take his gun off.
   The incident at the saloon this week was the first time in years that
someone had drawn a gun in anger at another man.  There had been many times
that someone would get lickered up and shoot off a few rounds into the air.
   Once there was a young cowboy rode into town and after a belly full of
whiskey got to thinking he was a gun fighter.  Before the sheriff could get
over to the saloon, he had shot his own foot trying to fast draw his
pistol.
   Tom and the sheriff were walking slowly back and forth along the wooden
boardwalks on either side of the street talking to each other, speaking to
the people they saw.  The sheriff was showing off his new deputy to all the
folks that only came to town once a week.  He introduced Tom to many men
and their wives.
   A lot of folks were skeptical of having an injun as a lawman, but they
trusted the sheriff's judgment here.  Some folks told the shop owners and
friends they met there, that they thought the tall man looked kinda
menacing with that black hat and his Colt tied low on his leg like that.
   Mr.  Miller told those in his store that brought it up that Tom Cooper
was a fine man, he had helped the Widder Crooms two kids out of a jam and
even took on Sam Wilson when Sam had drawed down on the sheriff with his
gun.
   "The mayor told me later that he ain't never seen a man drag a long Colt
out as fast as that Sioux Indian did that day, and you folks know the
mayor, he ain't one to carry tales."
   "Mr.  Miller I reckon that he's as good a man as they say, but I seen it
happen over'n Dodge like that once years back.  The marshal hired a young
deputy to help when the drovers came into town with all the herds.  Wasn't
long until word got out how big and bad the deputy was and next thing you
know they was all kinds of ya-hoo's coming into town just to take a whack
at'em."
   "Turned out to be good business for the court with all them that got
arrested, and real good business for the undertaker for them that didn't."
   "We got a good little town here and with sheriff Keyes enforcin' the law
and Tom backin'em up, it ought to stay quiet for some time to come yet,"
Mr. Miller told them.
   Sheriff Keyes and Tom walked in the saloon to look over the ones that
had been there long enough to start feeling like they were bigger and
badder than when they got to town.  The crowd was kinda quiet, there were
two full tables of poker going on.  Lot's of laughing and story telling as
always.
   "Bud, you got any here that's itchin' yet?" Sheriff Keyes asked the
barkeep.
   "I reckon not, Sheriff.  It's still early yet, give'm time and they'll
get there.  I heard a couple remarks about Tom here, but that went away,"
The barkeep said as he wiped the whiskey glasses with his dirty rag.
   Sheriff Keyes motioned for Tom to come over so he could look behind the
bar, Bud kept a double barreled scatter gun hanging there in reach.  Tom
nodded as he saw the gun.  The shotgun wasn't over three feet long from
muzzle to butt.
   When the two men had walked back out on the board walk, Tom asked the
sheriff to walk over to the bank with him.
   "I need to put this money somewhere safe until I leave."
   "Well I'm sure that Mr.  Clifton will be glad to get a new customer,
let's go.  You sure don't need that kind of money on you."
   Mr.  Clifton had his head teller to help Tom open a new account and
assured him that his money would be safe here and waiting on him when he
needed it.
   "I'll be headin' out in another week or so I reckon, so I'll let it lay
here `til then."
   Feeling better now that his money was safe and the load was off his
waist where his buckskin pouch was tied, Tom and the sheriff walked by the
hotel just as Mr.  Canady rode up on his horse.
   "Tom, I got delayed at the ranch with payroll and all.  I sure would
like to buy you and the sheriff a good meal if you haven't had dinner yet."
   "Well, Mr.  Canady that's mighty nice of ya.  I reckon I could eat a
good side of cow about now, how bout you Tom."
   "I haven't eaten since daylight and I reckon I could eat a meal about
now too.  I sure thank you Mr.  Canady for your offer."
   "Then let's get in there and eat before you gentlemen start getting your
first customers for the day." Mr.  Canady laughed.
   When the three men had sat down and ordered their meal, Mr.  Canady
turned to Tom, "Tom, I had some more words with Mr.  Roller today when I
was paying the hands off.  He was making some pretty disgusting remarks
about you and how glad he was that we were through dealing with Indians for
a while."
   "I guess I've come to like you just as much as my women folk have except
for different reasons, and I couldn't let the man talk that way, even if he
does work for me.  He's a good hired hand and knows his horses as good as
any man around.  He's just used to bossing the men on the ranch and seems
maybe he's all taken up with himself.
   "Seems he and some of the other hired hands had a little bet on the
race. Mr.  Roller lost about thirty dollars as near as I can figure."
   "How did the other men come to bet against your horse?"
   "Runt told them to put their money on you and your horse."
   "Well, Mr.  Canady, I sure thank you again for telling me this.  I'll
try to steer clear of him so he won't be as riled up.  The sheriff has told
me a good bit about him and how he acts when he gets a few drinks in his
belly.  Maybe now that I'm not on his stomping grounds out at the ranch,
his mind will ease up a bit about all this.  I don't go looking for trouble
Mr.  Canady, but it sure seems to cross my path a lot."
   The three men ate their meal, Tom had ordered a steak and Mr.  Canady
and Sheriff Keyes did too.
   Dale Canady did his business at the bank and the stage depot where he
sent some mail to his friends in Omaha, and Lincoln.  It takes about two
days to get mail all the way down to Lincoln, but he knew that once his
friends got the letters, they would travel the fifty miles to accept the
challenge.
   "Tom, why didn't you say anything to Mr.  Canady about the pitch fork
and the tobacco spit on your bedroll?"
   "Well, I didn't want to point any fingers at a hired hand of his not
knowing if it was Mr.  Roller or not.  I thought I'd let it play out and
see.  If we can't find who it was, then I need to just let this one ride
until the next time I guess."
   "Tom next time you might be inside that bedroll."
   On toward sundown, the cowboys and farm hands let the rowdy out, and the
river town came to life like it always did on Friday and Saturday night. 
The good town folks went on home and locked the doors.  The store keepers
kept the drunks out so the last of the customers could get their goods and
go home.  The sheriff and Tom decided to stay together for a while since
this was Tom's first night as deputy and the sheriff's shoulder was still
stove up from the bullet that sliced it open.
   The sheriff knew from experience that the best place he could be was at
the office.  That was the first place folks would come to look for him. 
The town jail and sheriff's office was like every other building in town, a
wood frame structure.  The small building had one door in front with a
small window on either side of the door.  The jail cells did have doors
with iron bars and a big tumbler lock.  The backs of the cells were wood
frame same as the front and side walls.  The slanted roof was covered in
wood shingles.  The rafters and bottom side of the shingles could be seen
on the inside of the office.
   There just wasn't a need for a fortress as there was in the larger towns
and cities along the Missouri River and especially the towns west of the
Missouri.  Most of the customers in this jail were just work hands that got
a little tanked up and got rowdy for a night.
   Sam Wilson and his friend were occupying one of the cells this week.  At
least until they healed, and the circuit judge could make his regular
rounds.  Doc Caster would come by once a day and check their wounds and the
two men were in no condition to cause any problems either.  Doc had to cut
Sam's hand off at the wrist, there just wasn't enough left to save.  All of
the bones, ligaments and nerves had been ripped out of the back of his hand
when the .44 slug hit him.
   He took his patient down to the blacksmith shop and had ol' Smitty heat
a big meat clever as hot as he could get it, then Doc placed the clever
over Sam's wrist joint and told Smitty to hit it with his big hammer.  Sam
had lost a lot of blood and the Doc had poured whiskey down him until he
passed out, but when the hammer came down Sam still screamed.  Doc held the
hot metal blade to the stub of Sam's arm until he had burned the flesh
enough to stop the bleeding.  Doc and Smitty had to turn their heads to
keep from gagging from the smell as the smoke rose from the melting flesh.
Two days later and Sam was still alive, Doc said he was gonna make it.
   Doc wasn't so sure about Sam's friend, known only as Bo.  Bo had lost a
lot of blood too and Doc had to cut his arm off at the elbow.  The .44 slug
had entered his arm at the wrist and plowed up through the arm bones and
flesh so bad the there was no way to save it.  Bo laid in the back of a
wagon while Doc worked on Sam, then they brought him up to go through the
same procedure.  This was primitive medicine, but this was a primitive time
in a primitive land.  Smitty took the hand and the arm out back and buried
them in a deep hole.  Sheriff Keyes paid Smitty two dollars for each
patient he assisted Doc Caster.
   Sheriff Keyes sat with his boots up on the desk, leaned back in his
chair, eyes half closed.  Tom sat with his back to the two jail cells and
his moccasins propped up on a small table.  Both men faced the door.
   Tom slipped his flute out of its round case and blew the dust off the
long stem.  Sheriff Keyes sat and watched as Tom ran his fingers along the
smooth surface of the flute.  He touched his lips to the mouthpiece, and
music came from the long wooden instrument as Sheriff Keyes sat wide eyed
and listened while the jail filled with the haunting sounds of the plains
Indians.  Sam and Bo looked over to see just where the music was coming
from.  They could hardly believe this Injun could blow on a stick and make
it sound this way.
   The music of the flute drifted out the open door and open windows, down
the street the sounds drifted as if riding on a cloud of smoke.  People
stopped to listen and try to figure where the sounds came from and what was
making the soothing, forlorn music.
   Sam Wilson sat on the side of his bunk in the cell and looked down at
the bandage covering his stump of an arm with no hand.  He stared at the
Injun as he played his music with the wooden stick.  Bo lay on his side
with the stump of his arm held as high as he could to help ease the pain.
He also looked at Tom and wondered how in the hell an Injun could blow
through a wooden stick and make these sounds.
   Newton Nebraska, 7:30 in the evening on the first Friday in May. 
Sheriff Keyes pulled out his watch and looked at it when he heard the
whooping and hollering in the streets.  The sun had just gone down.
   "Let's go Tom, I think maybe the party is about to start and we don't
want to be late."
   Tom stood up, slipped his flute back in it's case, shifted his gun
holster to where he wanted it, then retied the leather thongs around his
leg and picked up his Henry.  He carried the rifle in the crook of his
right arm.
   Sheriff Keyes stood up, hitched his breeches up to his waist and took
the double barreled shotgun from the rack.  He grabbed ten shells and stuck
in eight in his vest pockets.
   The other two he dropped in the open breech of the shotgun, snapped the
barrel up and hooked the gun in the crook of his left arm.  Sheriff Keyes
went out the door first and Tom followed as he walked out in the street.
   Both men walked down the middle of the street side by side, this was the
sheriff's way of showing the folks in town that he was on patrol.
   The town had four oil lamps on each side of the street and the
lamplighter was lighting the last one now.  The light of the eight lamps
spaced out over a few yards of main street did little but give a yellow
glow to the town.
   The low grade light made strange shadows play along the street as the
two men walked by.  Their shadow would dance along the ground in front of
them a ways, then as they passed the lamp, the shadows would run away from
them to the back.  The same would happen when someone would cross the
street in front of the two men.  The legs of the shadows would appear to be
wobbly and bent, moving in jerky motions along the dry, rutted dirt street.
They walked with eyes to the front but watching any movement to the sides
as well.  They reached the last of the buildings on the south end of town
and stopped.
   "Tom, I always walk the street this way.  In my own mind I tell myself
that I'm the hunted and the hell raisers are the hunters.  I never know
when I'll be attacked or from what direction.  I was taught this by the
marshal that gave me my first job as a law man."
   "I try to make myself as alert as I can.  I know a lot of these people
by name, and a lot more of them when I see their face.  I never come out at
night with the intention of using my gun.  I carry it because of the people
here that I don't know."
   "We'll spend a few minutes here, then split up and walk back down to the
other end of town on opposite sides of the street.  If you happen to see
anything suspicious give me a shout."
   "Sheriff I like the way you got it laid out, I wasn't sure how we could
cover the whole town, now I see how this is the only way.  I'm with you."
   Tom walked back through town on the side the livery stable was on.  When
he came to the front of the stable he saw Mr.  Langley in the door and
walked over to say hello.  Tom walked into the barn and took his long knife
out of his saddlebags.  He strapped the knife to his right leg and
continued his walk.  He looked over and saw Sheriff Keyes just ahead of him
on the other side of the dirt street.
   The two lawmen walked all the way through town and met at the end.
   "Tom, looks like we might have a quiet night tonight, they must be
saving up for tomorrow.  Let's walk back up the street again and take a
look in the saloon."
   "Yes Sir"
   The two men walked slowly up the dirt street once more with the shadows
dancing foolishly in the dirt, first in front of them then behind them as
they walked by the lamps.
   Sheriff Keyes veered toward the saloon even before they came to it and
they walked in the door from the side instead of straight in.  Sheriff
Keyes walked over to where they could face the room with their backs to the
wall at the end of the long bar.
   The place was buzzing, the card players were still playing and all the
tables were full of either players or drinkers or both.
   The bar was a busy place with men coming and going with drinks.  Men
were sitting alone drinking and not talking.  Men were sitting and talking
to anyone that would listen.
   When Sheriff Keyes came in the room hushed just a little, when Tom
walked in behind him, the room fell quiet for what seemed like a long time,
but was just a few seconds then the talking started again.
   Tom and the sheriff stood looking the crowd over for a while longer and
started for the door.n When they had walked out into the street again a man
walked out of the darkness with his gun in his hand.  Both lawmen froze for
a second and the man fired into the air twice.
   Tom was beside him before the sheriff could move, he reached up and took
the gun from the man as he was trying to fire again.
   "Heyyy, gimme my gun back, I was just havin' fun," the young man said
drunkenly.
   "You can have it back in the morning, now you find a place to bed down
or I'll find one for you," Tom told him.
   The man looked up at Tom and decided he did need to find a place to
sleep.  Tom and the sheriff watched him weave and stumble toward the stable
and disappear in the darkness.
   "Tom, you handled that like a true lawman.  I've seen some deputies try
to earn a reputation by pushing a drunk cowboy around."
   "He didn't look any older than me when I got up close, I hope he finds a
good place to sleep it off."
   "Old Langley usually lets them sleep it off inside the barn if they
aren't rude and rowdy about it."
   The two lawmen walked over to the office and sat down for a while,
before they walked another patrol.  This was a slow night and both men were
glad.  Tom spent the rest of the night in the livery stable up in the hay
loft just over his horses stall.  He slept good the second night of his job
as a lawman.
   
  
The Man From Eagle Creek - Chapter - 12