How in the name of God could a place like this have existed for so long, without somebody escaping and telling the horrors that were going on?
He had no answers for that question either.
But he knew that this place must be destroyed. And he also knew that when Marshal Jim Wilde and Sheriff Larsen and the posse members saw this chamber of horrors, there would never be any due process of law. No courts with judge and jury would decide the fate of the outlaws of Dead River. It would be decided on the seventh night, with gunsmoke and lead.
If the posse could help it, no outlaw would leave this valley alive.
Smoke pushed those thoughts out of his mind and concentrated on his own predicament: He did not have a cent to his name and had very few supplies left. Maybe enough to last a couple of days, if he was careful.
Smoke Jensen, the most famous and feared gunfighter in all the West, didn’t know what in the hell he was going to do.
10
“So that’s it.” Sally’s father’s voice was filled with ill- disguised disgust. “What a wretched excuse for a human being.”
Abigal’s face mirrored her shock and horror.
Sally sat with her mother and father in the book-lined study of the mansion. Her father’s room, which few of them had dared enter when they were children. But Sally had never been afraid of doing so. She used to love to sit in her father’s chair and look at all the books about law and justice.
The three of them were alone; her brothers and sisters had left for the evening. And the town was fairly buzzing about the news of the famous gunfighter who was soon to be arriving.
“Why didn’t you tell us when it happened, dear?” her mother asked.
“Because he told me he would kill you both. Then, after he left town, after killing that man, I just did my best to put the incident out of my mind, as much as possible. As the years went by, the memory became dimmer and dimmer. But there is no doubt in my mind that Dagget is the same man who tried to molest me years ago.”
John rose from his chair to pace the room, his anger very evident. Wife and daughter watched him until he composed himself and returned to his leather chair. “The first thing in the morning, I shall inform the authorities as to this scoundrel’s whereabouts. Then we shall begin extradition proceedings to have him returned to New Hampshire to stand trial.”
Sally could not contain the smile that curved her lips. “Father, by the time you do all that legal mumbojumbo, the matter will most probably be taken care of—if it isn’t already tended to. However, Smoke did suggest he cut off Dagget’s head and bring it back here in a sack.”
Abigal turned a bit green around the mouth and began fanning herself. “For heaven’s sake!” she finally blurted. “He was joking, of course?”
“Oh, no, Mother. He wasn’t joking a bit.”
“Just exactly what is your husband doing while you are visiting here, Sally?” John asked.
Sally then explained to her parents what her husband was doing.
“Are you telling us, expecting us to believe,” John said, astonishment in his voice, “that your husband…ah… Smoke, one man, is going to…ah…attack and destroy an entire town of thugs and hooligans and ne’er-do-wells—all by himself? Now, really, Sally!”
“Oh, he’s found some help. And I think you will approve of his methods, Father, or what you think his methods will be—in your New England straight-by-the book mind.”
“You disapprove of law and order, Sally?”
“Of course not, Father. Your way works here; our way works for us in the West. This will not be the first time Smoke has taken on an entire town.” Then she told them about the shoot-out at the silver camp and what had happened in Bury, Idaho.
Her parents sat in silence and stared at her.
“And you can believe what I say, the both of you. I was in Bury. I saw it all. When Smoke gets his back up, you better get out of the way. ’Cause he’s going to haul it out, cock it back, and let her bang.”
“The finest schools in the country and Europe,” John muttered. “And she hauls it out and lets her bang. Incredible.”
Sally laughed openly at the expression on her father’s face. “It’s just a western expression, father.”
“It’s just that it is terribly difficult for us, here in the long-settled East, to fully understand the ways of the West, Sally,” Abigal said. “But we don’t doubt for a moment what you’ve told us. Sally, when Smoke comes out here for a visit, will he be armed?”
“If he’s got his pants on.”
John looked heavenward, shook his head, and sighed. “Yet another delightful colloquialism.”
Sally reached into a pocket of her dress—she was getting too large to wear jeans, but she would have loved to do so, just to see the expression on her parents’ faces—and took out a piece of paper. “This wire came this morning, while you both were out. It’s from Smoke.”
“Shall I contact the governor and have him call out the militia?” John asked his daughter, only half-joking. He wanted to meet his son-in-law, certainly; but he had absolutely no idea what to expect. And just the thought of an armed western gunfighter riding into the town made him slightly nauseous.
Sally laughed at him. “You’re both thinking my husband to be some sort of savage. Well,” she shrugged her shoulders, “when he has to be, he is, to your way of thinking. Yet, he is a fine artist, well-read, and highly intelligent. He knows the social graces; certainly knows what fork and spoon to use. But we don’t go in for much of that where we live. In the West, eating is serious business, and not much chitchat goes on at the table. But I really think you’ll like Smoke if you’ll give him just half a chance.”
