Guns of Wrath Read online

  ‘What do we do with them?’ the oldster asked.

  ‘Strip their saddles and turn ’em loose. They’ll find their way to where they belong. If they don’t, somebody’ll come across ’em.’

  ‘Let’s do it,’ Bannock replied.

  ‘There ain’t no rush.’

  ‘Let’s do it. We’ll give ’em a good feed and set ’em loose. Then let’s get goin’.’

  The oldster moved away. Comfort watched him till he vanished around the corner of the shack.

  ‘Now I wonder what’s eatin’ him,’ he said to himself.

  The sun was low on the horizon when they rode out. It wasn’t a time Comfort would have chosen but the oldster hadn’t changed his mind about wanting to be off. They took two of Wilder’s horses as pack animals and loaded stuff from the shack on to them. Apart from that, Comfort reflected, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a change of mounts.

  At about the same time, Miss Annie was sitting in her room at the Crystal Arcade. There was a knock on the door.

  ‘Who is it?’ she shouted.

  ‘It’s me, Jenny’, a faltering voice replied.

  ‘Wait a moment.’

  Miss Annie got to her feet and without thinking glanced at herself in the mirror. It had become second nature to her. Then she moved to the door and opened it.

  ‘Come on in,’ she said.

  She motioned to a settee and was about to take a nearby chair when she saw that Jenny was crying. Instead, she sat down next to her and put her arm round Jenny’s shoulder.

  ‘What is it?’ she said.

  The younger woman put her head on Miss Annie’s shoulder. Miss Annie waited for a few moments before gently raising her head.

  ‘This is not like you,’ she said. ‘Come on, you know you can talk to me.’

  Jenny was sobbing and tears coursed down her cheeks. Miss Annie gave her a handkerchief and then got to her feet. She took a bottle from a cabinet, poured two drinks and, taking one herself, handed the other to the weeping girl.

  ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘It’ll do you good.’

  The girl took a sip and Miss Annie sat down beside her again.

  ‘Now, tell me what the trouble is.’

  Jenny took another sip and then, making an effort to control herself, began to speak in broken syllables.

  ‘It’s Mr Wilder,’ she said.

  Annie opened her mouth to say something, then changed her mind. She waited for Jenny to resume.

  ‘I know I shouldn’t complain. You took me in and I’m making a good living. I don’t have any problems with the other customers but I don’t think I can see Mr Wilder again.’

  Annie waited.

  ‘At first it wasn’t too bad but now. . . . He wants me to do things I don’t like.’

  Miss Annie took a sip of her brandy.

  ‘I tried. . . . At first it wasn’t too bad. There were just little things. But now. . . .’

  She began to cry once more. Miss Annie took her in her arms and placed her head against her shoulder.

  ‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to say any more. I will have a word with Mr Wilder. You won’t need to see him again.’

  Jenny sat up with a sudden jerk. ‘Please don’t say anything to him,’ she said. ‘I don’t know. . . .’

  ‘Don’t worry. I won’t refer to anything that’s been mentioned here.’

  ‘But what if . . . Mr Wilder won’t like. . . .’

  ‘Ssh. Don’t bother you pretty head about this any more.’

  Miss Annie looked down at her protégée.

  ‘Why not take a few days off?’ she said. ‘Have you anywhere to go? Is there anybody you would like to see?’

  Jenny shook her head.

  ‘You can spend a few days at my house,’ Miss Annie said. ‘There’s plenty of room. It’ll do you good to have a rest.’

  ‘That would be nice,’ Jenny sobbed.

  ‘Just forget about all this business with Mr Wilder. I understand how you feel, but believe me, it’ll be just a storm in a teacup.’

  Jenny made to get up.

  ‘No need to rush off,’ Miss Annie said. ‘Stay for a while, until you feel better. In fact, if you wait here, I’ll walk back with you when I’m finished.’

  When she was satisfied that Jenny was OK, Miss Annie finished her drink and went out, locking the door behind her. The sounds of merriment from downstairs grew louder, and as she began to descend the stairs she smoothed her dress and tidied her hair in readiness to play her role as hostess. She wasn’t surprised at what Jenny had told her. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard complaints about Wilder. She was just a little concerned that he seemed to be getting worse as time went by and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could continue to pacify him.

  Comfort and Bannock rode through a changing landscape of pine woods and cypress swamps. Huge live oaks spread their limbs, draped with moss, across the trail. Above the reedy marshes rose islands of sharp-edged sawgrass. When night fell they slept in their blankets on the nearest patch of higher ground to a swelling chorus of frogs and the elusive eerie glimmerings of will-o’-the-wisps. A dank, earthy smell hung in the warm, humid air.

  ‘I hope the reverend was right,’ Comfort said as they approached the town of Greenoak.

  ‘Are you sure this whole thing ain’t one big wild-goose chase?’ Bannock replied.

  ‘Guess we’ll find out soon.’

  Shortly after bypassing Cayuse Landing they had caught up with the paddle steamer making its way down the river. Comfort caught himself straining his eyes for a possible sight of Corrina Stead before he realized how ridiculously he was behaving. Now he had put his thoughts of her behind him.

  It was late afternoon when they rode into Greenoak. The town was small, with a narrow, tree-lined main street.

  ‘If Briggs is here, he should be easy to find,’ Comfort remarked.

  They made their way to the nearest saloon and tied their horses to the hitch rail. As they stepped through the batwing doors Comfort was already looking about him, seeking for the remembered face. The place was quiet, with only a few men sitting at tables and a little knot of idlers gathered about the bar.

  ‘Whiskey?’ the bartender queried.

  Comfort nodded. The barman poured and looked the newcomers up and down.

  ‘Just rode in?’ he queried.

  ‘Yup.’

  Comfort and Bannock took their drinks and retired to a table set against the wall. Comfort observed the customers more closely. They presented the usual motley group. Occasionally one or other of them would glance across at the new arrivals. After a time the batwings swung and a small white-haired man wearing a tin star came through. He nodded towards the group at the bar and then, glancing at Comfort and Bannock, made his way to their table. Comfort nodded.

  ‘Howdy,’ he said.

  The marshal took a seat beside them.

  ‘Have a drink?’ Bannock said.

  The marshal shook his head. ‘Saw you boys ride in,’ he said. ‘Seein’ you with those packhorses made me think you’ve maybe come a long ways.’

  ‘Ain’t no law against that,’ Comfort said.

  ‘Sure. I ain’t questionin’ your right to be here. I just like to introduce myself to anyone new in town. Sort of get acquainted.’

  ‘Well, it’s sure nice to have met you.’

  The marshal seemed to relax. A smile spread across his features.

  ‘So, you wouldn’t mind me askin’ what brings you here?’

  Comfort exchanged glances with Bannock. He could see no reason not to answer the marshal’s question with the bare truth.

  ‘I’m lookin’ for a man called Briggs,’ he said.

  He thought he detected a slight movement of the marshal’s countenance.

  ‘Briggs,’ the marshal repeated. ‘Can I ask why you want to find this man?’

  ‘Sure. He’s an old friend. I heard he was seen down this way.’

  The marshal looked closely into Co
mfort’s face. Bannock, looking up towards the bar, noticed that some of the men were taking an interest.

  ‘Have you heard of him?’ Bannock said. ‘Greenoak seems a tight little place. I would guess you have a pretty good knowledge of what goes on around here.’

  The marshal paused. He gave Comfort and Bannock the benefit of another hard look.

  ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Yes. I’ve heard of Briggs. In fact, right now he’s sittin’ in one of my cells. If it’s the same fella, that is.’

  Comfort swallowed the last of his whiskey.

  ‘What’s he doin’ in jail?’ he asked.

  ‘Drunk, disorderly, disturbin’ the peace. Nothin’ too serious.’

  ‘Can I see him?’

  The marshal thought for a moment. Again, a smile raised a corner of his mouth.

  ‘Yeah, sure,’ he said. ‘In fact, you might be able to do me a favour by bailin’ him out.’

  ‘OK. If it’s the man I’m lookin’ for, I’ll take him off your hands.’

  The marshal got to his feet. ‘Come on, then,’ he said.

  He walked away, Comfort and Bannock following. The street outside was deserted; a few lights had sprung up which only seemed to add to a sense of solitude. They walked down the street, the jangling of their spurs emphasizing the oppressive quiet. The marshal’s office wasn’t far and when he opened the door a man sitting inside with his legs on a table got rapidly to his feet.

  ‘Any problems with the prisoner?’ the marshal asked.

  ‘Nope. He finished his food and I took away the tray.’

  The marshal nodded in the direction of Comfort and Bannock.

  ‘These gentlemen think they might know him. They’re willin’ to take him off our hands.’

  The marshal reached into a drawer of a desk and produced a set of keys. He went through a door at the back of the room, indicating to the others to follow. Comfort was feeling nervous and agitated but did a good job of keeping his feelings in check. It was dark in the narrow corridor behind the door and it took a few moments for their eyes to adjust. There were two cells. One of them was empty; in the other a man sat on an iron bedframe with his head in his hands. He didn’t look up at their approach and only did so when the marshal addressed him.

  ‘Briggs, you got visitors.’

  He raised his head. Comfort came close, peering through the bars. The man inside was unshaved and his lank hair hung almost to his shoulders. He was thin to the point of emaciation and Comfort felt a sense of disappointment. His first reaction was that this couldn’t be the man he was looking for. Briggs in turn was looking at him closely.

  His mouth opened. Slowly, he struggled to his feet and approached closer. In his eyes was a dawning light of recognition.

  ‘Comfort,’ he said. ‘Is it you?’

  Comfort was suddenly animated. It wasn’t so much the man’s look which awakened a dawning sense of recognition, but the timbre of his voice.

  ‘Briggs,’ he said. ‘I been lookin’ for you.’

  The marshal stepped forward and unlocked the door.

  ‘You can go now,’ he said. He turned to Comfort. ‘See my deputy about the paperwork. I don’t know what you boys are plannin’ to do, but I’d just as soon you left town. I ain’t sayin’ you ain’t upright citizens and all. Let’s just say I don’t want to have to put it to the test.’

  Comfort wasn’t prepared to argue, especially since he had found the man he was looking for. He had no intention of remaining long in Greenoak.

  Once they had settled matters with the deputy, they saddled up one of the packhorses. Briggs was already looking better than when they had found him. Now Comfort could discern the features of his former comrade in the prison camp. He had changed a lot but beneath marks of time and change the lineaments of yesteryear were beginning to emerge.

  It was dark when they rode out of town. Comfort’s main aim was to find somewhere to camp where they could make themselves comfortable and he could talk with Briggs. He would have preferred to book in at the hotel but he wasn’t in any mood to risk putting the marshal’s back up. Before they had been riding long Bannock found a suitable spot. When they had eaten and settled down to enjoy a pot of thick black coffee, Briggs produced a pouch of tobacco and offered it to the others.

  ‘Guess I ought to thank you two for gettin’ me out of jail,’ he said.

  Although he had seemed quite comfortable with his new situation, it was the first time he had had a chance to speak. They rolled cigarettes and lay back in the warm glow of the camp-fire.

  ‘It weren’t nothin’,’ said Comfort. ‘The marshal said you were in there for bein’ drunk and causin’ a nuisance. Is that right?’

  ‘Yeah. It ain’t somethin’ I’m proud of. Truth is, I been hittin’ some hard times. I let things get to me. I tell you what, though. I sure never expected you to come by and rescue me.’

  ‘It wasn’t an accident. Like I said in the jailhouse, I been lookin’ for you.’

  Comfort looked closely at his old comrade. ‘Hell, it’s been a long time. What you been doin’ with yourself?’

  Briggs blew out a ring of smoke. ‘This and that,’ he said. ‘Just lately I been gettin’ by huntin’ muskrats.’

  Bannock had noticed some weathered cabins built on piles among the marshes. He had been puzzled as to what they could be. Now he understood; they were the dwellings of muskrat hunters.

  ‘There’s plenty of the critters around here. You probably saw their houses, kinda like yellow anthills. Yup, this is good muskrat country.’

  He paused, enjoying the taste of the tobacco, and seeming to almost relish his musings.

  ‘Good muskrat country,’ he repeated. ‘Guess they like those cattails.’

  He took a sip from his hot coffee mug and it had the effect of jerkng him out of his reverie.

  ‘You said you were lookin’ for me,’ he said to Comfort. ‘What were you lookin’ for me for?’

  Now that Briggs was touching on the main issue, Comfort suddenly felt awkward. He didn’t know where to begin his tale.

  ‘Remember Jaspersville?’ he said.

  Briggs was silent. He inhaled deeply, then swallowed a mouthful of steaming coffee so quickly that he spluttered.

  ‘Remember Laidler?’ Comfort continued. ‘You and me swore we’d get revenge on the skunk. We arranged to meet, but I never made it.’

  Briggs turned his head to stare at Comfort. ‘I was there. What happened to you?’

  ‘Like I say, I couldn’t make it. I was ill. Really ill. I was lucky to pull through.’

  ‘I waited for you. Waited for two days.’

  ‘You didn’t do anythin’ about Laidler?’

  Briggs shook his head. ‘No, I didn’t do anythin’ about Laidler.’

  He sat up and flicked the stub of his cigarette into the flames. ‘Is that what all this is about? After all this time, you’ve come searchin’ for me because of Laidler?’

  ‘Yeah. I just regret not makin’ it the first time. I guess I let you down pretty bad.’

  Suddenly Briggs broke into a laugh.

  ‘Laidler!’ he said. ‘Hell, that was so long ago. He’s probably dead by now!’

  ‘If he ain’t, he will be when I get my hands on him.’

  Briggs’s laughter grew louder. ‘Are you crazy?’ he said.

  ‘I ain’t crazy. That varmint’s not gonna get away with the way he treated us. He’s gonna pay.’

  Briggs’s laughter subsided. He pulled out his tobacco pouch and began to build another smoke. He passed the pouch to Bannock.

  ‘You know about this?’ he asked him.

  Bannock nodded. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘And you went along with it?’

  ‘There are other reasons why we’re ridin’ together.’

  ‘By Jiminy, I hope there are.’

  Briggs addressed himself to Comfort once more. ‘Do you know where Laidler is? Assumin’ he’s alive.’

  ‘No. That’s why I’m here. I figured we’d look
for Laidler together. It shouldn’t be too hard to find him.’

  ‘And you want to make him pay. Look, I ain’t tryin’ to defend Laidler. He was just about the worst type of low-down evil coyote. But take a look at me. My life ain’t been the same since Jaspersville. I admit it. I ain’t been able to get it back on track. But I ain’t plannin’ on bringin’ it all back up again. Findin’ Laidler and killin’ him ain’t gonna bring back those wasted years and it ain’t gonna give me some kind of release.’

  ‘You sayin’ you’re not interested in trackin’ Laidler down? If that’s the case, why did you swear that oath?’

  ‘We were different people then. Sure, I meant it at the time. If you’d have showed up that first time I’d have gone through with it. But I ain’t the same man I was then. Too many things have happened.’

  Bannock had remained largely silent. Now he spoke to Comfort.

  ‘I think Briggs is right,’ he said, ‘although I can’t speak for you boys. My experiences in the war were different. But look at it this way. We were on opposite sides then. Hell, we might have been slinging lead at one another on some battlefield. But that was then, not now. The war’s over and gone. Maybe it’s time you let it go.’ Comfort sprang to his feet.

  ‘You’re wrong,’ he said. ‘You’re both wrong. What’s a man worth if he goes back on his word?’

  The oldster shook his head ruefully.

  ‘You tellin’ us you ain’t ever changed your mind?’ he muttered.

  ‘Changin’ your mind is one thing. This is somethin’ plumb different.’

  Comfort rounded on Briggs. ‘OK. Go back to your muskrats. Go back to Greenoak and get drunk and wind up back in jail. What the hell do I care?’ He turned to face the oldster.

  ‘Same goes for you. If you don’t want to ride with me, go back to Cayuse Landing. Go back to the Crystal Arcade and start swampin’ the place.’

  ‘You don’t mean that,’ Bannock replied. ‘You know that ain’t what I was implyin’.’

  Comfort stood for a moment regarding the others in the dancing light of the fire. Then he turned on his heel and walked away. A few moments later they heard the sound of creaking leather and then the soft muffled sounds of hoofs. They had a fleeting glimpse of a dark shape riding away into the darkness. Briggs got to his feet and made to move towards the horses.