Free The Taylor County War by Ford Fargo Page B

going to kill Mr. Sublette.” Tears welled up in
his eyes and his face drained of color. “I…I shot him in the head.
It made me feel sick to my stomach.”
    “Did any of them get away?”
    “I don’t know, sir. I guess I was
in a sort of shock. Mr. Sublette took charge, like he was used to
it. He was going to head for Mr. Breedlove’s house, but he was
worried about the tough country they’d have to cross to get there.
Then Jimmy Spotted Owl suggested they head for the old line shack,
which was nearer and where they had beds and supplies of food and
water. Then Mr. Sublette sent me to fetch you out there.”
    Logan looked round at Mrs. Li.
“Could you get Li Wei to run and tell Sheriff Satterlee about
this?”
    “Billy Below rode with me and he’s
doing that right now,” Frank volunteered.
    Logan put an arm about Frank’s
shoulders. “You’ve done good work this day, Frank. You’ve done as
well as any man could have done. Now, do you know where Obie’s
folks live?”
    Frank nodded.
    “Then I want you to do three
things. First, I want you to go to their home and tell them that
there has been – an incident. Tell them that Obie has been wounded
and that I am going to head straight out there to see him.
Secondly, as soon as you can, go over to the livery and ask Ben
Tolliver to get my horse ready. I need to go over to my office and
get some things, and then the third thing I want you to do is lead
me to this line shack. Can you do all that?”
    Frank nodded and made for the
door.
    Logan turned to Mrs. Li. “This all
sounds bad, Mrs. Li, I reckon that I’m going to need –”
    Mrs. Li anticipated his request.
“You will need dressings and bandages. You go to your office,
Doctor Munro. I will send Li Wei and Jing Jing round with a basket
straight away.”

    ***

    Jimmy Spotted Owl was waiting
outside the line shack with Marcus Sublette’s Whitworth .451
cradled in his arms. He shook his head as Logan and Frank reined in
and tied their horses to the hitching post.
    “Little Obie didn’t make it,” he
announced apologetically.
    Logan quickly went into the shack,
followed by a speechless and disbelieving Frank.
    There were two bunks in the shack
against opposite walls. A blanket covered Obie’s body and had been
drawn up over his face. Ethan Hartman was lying on the other bunk,
his face lathered in perspiration and taut with pain. Marcus
Sublette was sitting on a stool, a crude bandage bound round his
own right calf. He was dabbing Ethan’s brow with a damp cloth.
    “I am pleased to see you, Doctor,”
he said, pushing himself painfully to his feet. “I am sorry that I
couldn’t do much for young Obie.”
    Logan eased back the blanket to
reveal the young boy’s body. He bent down and quickly felt for a
pulse, then cursorily examined the wound.
    “Judging by this wound there wasn’t
much anyone could have done. You tried to staunch the flow, and
that’s about all that you could have hoped to do. His chest cavity
would have filled up with blood and his lungs would collapse and
his heart would just stop.”
    “He looks like he’s asleep,” Frank
remarked, his voice quaking. “He didn’t deserve that to happen.” He
quickly turned away and slumped onto a stool in the corner of the
shack.
    “Let’s have a look at Ethan,” Logan
said, taking the stool that Marcus had vacated.
    “I didn’t dare try to remove it,”
Marcus said over his shoulder as Logan looked at the three inch
long spike sticking out of the front of Ethan’s thigh.
    “You were quite right, Marcus. You
could have done more damage and started a hemorrhage that you
couldn’t control.”
    He put a reassuring hand on Ethan’s
shoulder. “Don’t worry, son. I’m going to take this thing out of
your leg as soon as I can. How bad does it hurt?”
    “It feels like the worst pain I can
imagine, sir. Like I have the devil’s own pitchfork stuck in me.”
He screwed up his face and a sob escaped. “But I feel bad
complaining at