Free Stay Away From That City . . . They Call It Cheyenne (Code of the West) by Stephen Bly

ones. What about those two men?”
    “This is just my suggestion,” Tap explained, “but I’d like to have you fine them expenses and sentence them to six months in jail, which will be suspended providin’ they pull out with the Bar 79 today and do not set foot in Cheyenne for a year.”
    The judge leaned back in his brown leather chair. “What’s your reason for that?”
    “There’s a pack of bummers that is gettin’ lynchy. They are mostly out for revenge against the drovers. But since Pappy was killed in the shootout, there’s lots of folks around town that will support them. I think they might even try hangin’ Hager’s friends if they can’t get to Hager. I’d just like to get these boys out of town so I won’t have to protect them. They have jobs on the Bar 79, and TwoHoots will pay their fine.”
    “Sounds good to me. Bring them at .  . .” Judge Blair checked his gold-chained pocket watch. “Ten o’clock. You sure you’re not looking to be a judge?”
    “Yes, sir. I’m sure I’m not.”
    “Hager’s a problem, all right. I haven’t seen folks in this town so stirred up since those four girls at the Paris Club got knifed to death.”
    “I’ve got him in a secured place now, but I’m not sure how long I can keep him there. The jail isn’t safe.”
    “Is he still in the city?” the judge questioned.
    Tap glanced around. Two people walked into the back of the courtroom.
    “Yes, sir,” he whispered.
    “You got witnesses to the crime?”
    “Yep. Rolly Hayburn saw Hager shoot Pappy in the back when that gunfight was nearly over.”
    “Was Rolly sober?”
    “He was after the shootin’.”
    “Is Hager pleading guilty?”
    “He claims he was drunk and doesn’t remember anything.”
    “A man’s totally responsible for all his actions, drunk or not. If he demands a jury trial, he’ll get a jury trial. Bring him here at 11:00 a.m. , and I’ll set a trial date. In the meantime, I believe I’ll ask the commanding officer at Ft. Russell if he can escort Hager to their stockade to await the trial.”
    “I reckon Governor Hale won’t be too pleased you had to call in federal troops.”
    “The governor’s out of the territory. I believe I can summon the troops for official court business. I’m talking about public safety. It’s not a time to worry about politics. Andrews, I don’t want to know where you’re keeping him. Just have him here in my courtroom at 11:00.”
    “Yes, sir, I will.”
    “You’ve kept him alive longer than I figured,” the judge added. “I didn’t reckon he’d make it through the night.”

     
     
     
    4
     
    T ap fastened the top buttons of his worn canvas coat and scrambled down the courthouse steps. He hurried south on Ferguson Street. His boot heels banged decisively on the boardwalk. Tipping his hat to Mrs. Matthews and her baby, he waited for the Gilroy and Hannigan wagons and riders to pass before crossing 17th.
    At least some of the cowhands are leavin’ Che yenne.
    Half a dozen men lounged around the entrance to the I nter Ocean Hotel. Their fogged-breath conversations ceased as Tap drew near. He ignored their stares and pushed his way into the warm, stuffy lobby. He could feel most folks inside studying his movements as he ascended the stairs.
    I suppose ever’one in town knows I’m hidin’ Jerome Hager somewhere. I’ve got to get him out of the house t oday. There’s just too many folks in town with nothin’ to do except stir up a ruckus.
    The wide door of Suite G swung open revealing what he co nsidered to be the prettiest blonde-haired woman in the Territory.
    “Mornin’, babe.” He winked.
    Pepper broke into a wide grin. “Mornin’, Deputy.” She slipped her arms around his waist and tugged him into the room, closing the door behind them.
    “How’s Savannah doin’?” he asked.
    “She’s a rock. There’s no woman in Wyoming like Savannah Divide.”
    “That’s what Pappy always said.”
    Pepper kissed his chapped lips