“Have to say,” Thomas admitted, “you caught me off guard. I figured you’d stay on till there was another political shake-up.”
“Timing is everything,” Nix replied. “You gentlemen have afforded me the opportunity of exiting on a high note. I couldn’t have asked for more.”
Tilghman thought there was some honesty in the statement. With Doolin captured, all the glory had been reaped from the office of U.S. marshal. Nix was probably moving on to bigger things, with a reputation as the man who had brought law and order to Oklahoma Territory. He gave Nix an inquiring look.
“Who’s been picked as your replacement?”
“Patrick Nagle,” Nix said. “One of the finest legal minds in the territory. He’s from Kingfisher.”
“A lawyer?” Tilghman asked.
“A brilliant lawyer,” Nix amended. “I gave my personal endorsement to his appointment.”
“From the sound of it,” Thomas said dryly, “I take it we can assume he’s a Democrat.”
“His politics are immaterial,” Nix insisted. “Pat Nagle is a man of great integrity and high moral standards. You gentlemen are fortunate to have someone of his caliber in this post.”
The three of them were of the same mind. Though unspoken, they realized that it was a matter of politics as usual. The job had gone to a man with all the right connections, and worse, to a lawyer. Based on long experience in courtrooms, none of them held lawyers in high esteem.
For Chris Madsen, who had listened quietly, the appointment forced him to a decision. “I am resigning too,” he said abruptly. “Effective today.”
“Hold on, Chris,” Tilghman protested. “No need for hasty decisions just because he’s a lawyer. Let’s give him a chance.”
“Not a hasty decision,” Madsen told him. “I’ve been offered the job of chief deputy of the Western District of Missouri. I was leaning toward taking the job, anyway. Today just decided it for me.”
Tilghman and Thomas immediately grasped the reason behind his decision. General Joseph Shelby, one of the famed Confederate commanders during the Civil War, was the U.S. marshal of the western district. Madsen, a former soldier himself, would be working for a military man of the first order. Which was far preferable to working for an unknown lawyer with political connections.
“Hell’s bells, Chris,” Thomas muttered. “The three of us make a damn good team. Hate to see you break it up.”
“An excellent point,” Nix chimed in, hoping to salvage the situation. “You’re the Three Guardsmen, the greatest manhunters ever! You should really reconsider all this, Chris.”
“No, my mind’s made up,” Madsen said, glancing at Tilghman and Thomas. “We were a good team, and I’ll miss working with you fellows. But it’s the right decision for me.”
“Look, Chris,” Nix said quickly. “Pat Nagle’s waiting in the governor’s office right now. At least meet him before you make such a rash decision.”
“No need.” Madsen stood, unpinning his badge, and dropping it on the desk. “I’d rather leave before he gets here.”
He gave Nix a perfunctory handshake. Then, one at a time, he clasped the hands of Tilghman and Thomas in a strong grip. Their parting was short and without sentiment, for their comradeship went beyond mere words. Without saying it, each man knew he could count on the other whenever the need might arise. Madsen went out the door without looking back.
After that, Nix moved things along swiftly. His wholesale grocery business was flourishing, and there were political opportunities on the horizon. Earlier, he’d briefed Nagle on the duties of the office, and he saw no reason to delay in the transition of power. Nor was there any reason to delay his own departure.
Excusing himself, Nix walked up to the governor’s office. A few minutes later he returned with the newly appointed U.S. marshal. He performed the introductions, lavishing praise on Tilghman and Thomas, and quickly explained Madsen’s abrupt resignation. Then, with a chipper farewell, he left his successor to take charge.
There was a moment of awkward silence as the door closed. Patrick Nagle was young, not yet thirty, with thick glasses and the somber manner of a professor. He was clearly uncomfortable staring across the desk at seasoned lawmen who were both older and far more experienced. Finally, nudging the glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, he attempted a confident smile.
“I’m very pleased that you gentlemen have elected to stay on. You are doubtless aware that I have no background in law enforcement, or in matters pertaining to criminals. So I will rely heavily on your advice and counsel.”
“No problem there,” Thomas said. “You probably already know that Nix gave Bill and me lots of leeway. We work at our own speed, and we don’t always follow the rules. But we generally get the job done.”
“Your record speaks for itself,” Nagle observed. “With Doolin and the Wild Bunch under control, the situation appears fairly stable. How would you recommend we proceed?”
“There’s some unfinished business,” Tilghman informed him. “We started out to break the Wild Bunch to the last man. Clifton, West, and Waightman are still on the loose.”
“Just so you understand,” Thomas added. “Our main assignment was to bring down the Wild Bunch. We’d like to keep it that way.”
“By all means,” Nagle said agreeably. “We have adequate marshals to attend to other matters. You men are entitled to finish what you started.”
“In that case,” Thomas said, “we’re gonna get along just fine. One way or another, we’ll bring those murderin’ bastards to justice.”
“Gentlemen, you have my full support. Keep me advised of your progress.”
After another round of handshakes, the lawmen walked from the office. Neither of them said anything on the way downstairs, seemingly lost in thought. On the street, Tilghman finally broke the silence.
“Not much like Nix, is he?”
“Amen to that,” Thomas said. “So what d’you think?”
“Heck, I think we can write our own ticket. He’ll go along to get along.”
“By God, maybe we finally got ourselves a smart one.”
They strolled off congratulating themselves on their new boss.
CHAPTER 39
A town began to emerge from the rubble. Under the constant din of hammering and sawing
