Smoke emptied the Remingtons into a knot of men, knocking them sprawling. He lit another charge, tossed that through a side window of a building, and dashed away. He collided with a man, recovered first, and pointed a pistol at the man’s head.
“The body of the girl Aggie, where is it?” He jacked back the hammer. “And I’m only going to ask it one time.”
“Sid tossed it into a backwater just off the river yonder. I swear to you I ain’t lyin’.”
Smoke jerked him to his feet. “Show me, you weasel. And you’d better be right the first time.”
Keeping low, as the flames began licking at the dry timber of the destroyed buildings, the man led Smoke to a dry wash and from there to the slough. The naked body of Aggie was clearly visible.
“Get her, you crud,” Smoke ordered, the menace in his voice chilling the man.
The man waded into the dark waters and pulled the girl to the shore.
“Pick her up and walk toward the timber,” he ordered.
“But she ain’t got nothin’ on! That ain’t decent!”
One look from Smoke’s cold eyes convinced the man that he’d better shut his mouth and do as ordered.
“Where is the bastard?” Smoke heard the voice of Max Huggins plain in the night. “Find him, you fools. Find him and kill him!”
At his horse, Smoke had the man wrap Aggie’s body in a blanket.
“What are you gonna do with me?” the man asked.
“Did you take a part in raping this girl? And don’t lie to me.”
“Yeah, I did. Ever’body did.”
Smoke hit him with one big gloved fist. The man dropped like a rock.
The flames in the town were slowly being contained by a bucket brigade and one small pumper.
Smoke knew there was no point in taking the man back to Barlow for trial. Once away from Smoke Jensen’s gun, the man would lie, denying any part of the rape. If a deal could be worked out, everybody in Hell’s Creek would alibi for the other and nothing would be accomplished there.
Smoke left the man on the ground and picked up the slender, blanket-covered body of Aggie Feckles. Star didn’t like the idea of carrying the dead, but Smoke managed to get into the saddle. He headed back for Barlow, taking a route first west, then cutting south, to throw off any pursuers. He doubted there would be many; they were too busy fighting the fires.
At a farmer’s house, he borrowed a horse and tied Aggie across the saddle. He rode into Barlow just as dawn was breaking fair in the eastern skies. People began lining the streets, silently watching as he rode in, leading the horse with the body of Aggie across the saddle.
Dr. Turner came out of the hotel, where he had just given Martha a sedative, and walked over to Smoke. Smoke stepped wearily out of the saddle and gave the reins to Jim. The deputy led the animal to the stable.
A crowd began to slowly gather around.
“After they abused her,” Smoke said, his words soft, “Warner Frigo shot her in the head and dumped her body in a slough.”
“Pete Akins told us the rest of it,” Judge Garrison said. A little bit of soap was still on his face. He had been shaving when the news of Smoke riding in reached him. “This is absolutely the most dastardly act I have seen in all my years on the bench.”
“How much damage did you do in Hell’s Creek, Marshal?” a citizen asked.
“Burned down about a half-dozen buildings. Got lead in maybe a dozen people. I used some dynamite, and the explosions probably killed another six or seven and put that many out of commission for a time. How is Martha?”
“She’s sleeping,” Turner said. “Victoria and Sally are with her now. I just gave her a sedative about fifteen minutes ago. She’ll be groggy when she wakes up.”
“The girl was shot at close range,” Smoke told him. “the slug took off about half her face. Have the undertaker do his work and then nail the coffin lid shut. Let’s spare Martha that.”
The doctor nodded his agreement.
“I’ve got to get some rest. I’ll see you all this afternoon.” Smoke wearily climbed the steps to their suite after asking Toby to have a boy get water for a bath.
He hung up his guns, pulled off his boots, waited in his long-handles until the tub was filled, and then took a bath. Sally came into the WC and scrubbed his back.
Smoke slipped under the cool, fresh sheets and closed his eyes. He slept deeply and soundly and dreamlessly. He awakened just after noon and was finishing shaving when the sounds of gunshots and women screaming sent him running down the hotel steps.
16
Max had not waited long to retaliate. The gunhands on his payroll and those who lived in Hell’s Creek had hit the town hard from the north and were now preparing to strike again, from the south end. Several had thrown torches and two buildings were on fire; but the bucket brigades were working and the fires were being snuffed out before much damage could be done.
“Get into position!”Smoke yelled. “Just like we practiced. Move!”
The men and women of the town responded, quickly getting into battle positions on the roofs and behind shelter. The outlaws saw what was taking place and broke off the second attack before it could get started. They galloped south.
