Now you have one more reason to make the jump and be added to my growing group of loyal followers, thought the Sheriff without speaking.
* * * *
As they headed back to the jailhouse, they heard tractors behind the courthouse and stopped to talk.
Four large tractors moved dirt from a hillside a hundred yards behind the building.
“Hey, guys,” the Sheriff called to the workers. “This is Ken, and he’s the one going to land his motorcycle on this dirt ramp—God willing, that is—so make it sturdy.”
“Yes, sir,” they all said, with one asking, “When’s the jump?”
“Well, we’ve got the bike,” the Sheriff answered, “so we just need this landing ramp done, and they’re starting construction on the front one, made of plywood, they tell me. The rest is all math, and I’ll let the architect figure that out.”
“By the way, Sheriff,” said one. “Judge Lowry has been out here two days in a row now, asking what we are doing.”
“What did you tell him?” asked the Sheriff.
“Nothin’. We didn’t say nothin’. Just that we were ordered to pile up some dirt is all.”
“That’s good, gentlemen. Let me handle him and don’t tell him or anyone else about what we’re doing here. I want it to be a surprise for my citizens,” the Sheriff continued.
“Yes, sir,” they all answered.
Walking back to the front, the launch ramp was taking shape, with the architect giving instructions to the carpenters.
“How are we coming?” the Sheriff asked her.
“Good, Sheriff. I’m still working on the exact slope and height dimensions, but we’ve begun the flat ground part, as you can see. The scaffolding is already in place for the vertical build. It’s made of plywood but will be reinforced all the way up. The math has to be just right for him to clear the building with enough speed, not to end up hitting the front of the building or landing on the roof. We’ll move the final ramp into place with the tractors at the very end, and I’ll know the correct speed once we’ve weighed the bike wet, along with the rider. The rest will be up to your jumper.”
“How long?” asked the Sheriff.
“A couple of days…three at the most. Once it’s done, it can be used more than once if needed.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I do appreciate it. By the way, don’t discuss any of this with the Judge,” the Sheriff said.
“Yes, sir. It’s not my business to do so, and for the record…or I should say off the record…he has been asking a lot of questions, and he appears frustrated with getting no answers.”
“I’ll deal with him. Just keep the project moving, no matter what,” instructed the Sheriff.
Once back at the jailhouse, Ken was excited that his chance at freedom could be only days away. He was both nervous and excited about the jump, as he imagined Evel was before each of his. He felt more comfortable seeing the ramp construction firsthand and believed he would have a level playing field. As long as the calculations were right, it would be in his hands to fail or succeed, and he liked those odds. Ken put himself back into his cell without being asked.
This whole thing was coming together faster than the Sheriff had planned, and he had put the word out in town, looking for a gladiator to challenge Richard.
He posted a $200 prize for the winner, payable in silver coins, but he had no takers as of yet.
“Hey, big boy,” he said to Richard. “I’m having trouble finding someone who wants to fight you, even after offering a fair amount of money—for these days, at least. I may have to send you over the courthouse on your own bike if we can’t find anyone.”
“Now wait a minute, Sheriff. I’ve never even ridden a bike, let alone jumped one. But I can fight, I know that.”
“And you,” the Sheriff said, pointing to James’ shooter without answering Richard’s question. I’ll start working on yours tomorrow.”
“My what?” he snapped back.
“Why, your contribution, of course, to entertain the law-abiding citizens of my town. Life has gotten harder for us all, and although our town has fared better than most, I’m sure, we still need something to look forward to—something different and exciting.
* * * *
Sheriff Johnson took a drive to Second Chances Ranch to see James.
He radioed ahead, and Jason had the main gate unlocked and swung open.
James was on the front porch with a tall glass in front of him. “Iced tea, Sheriff?” he said, holding up his glass.
“Sure, that sounds great. How’s the new boy working out?”
“Oh, Billy? He’s doing just fine, sir. Fits right in with everyone here.”
“It’s a good thing then, I guess, that I made you take him home.”
“That’s one way of looking at it,” replied James, happy that Jason was inside and didn’t hear it.
James didn’t mind, though, as most encounters with the Sheriff and Judge Lowry reminded him they were not friends, keeping him from saying anything that he may regret later.
“Do you have news on the Topeka, Kansas, group?” asked James, expecting that was the reason for the visit.
“My scouts are saying there’s a large group marching up I-25, only veering off course by a mile or two. We’ll keep a close eye on them, though.
“No, James. The reason I came up here today…” The Sheriff paused as Janice handed him a glass of tea. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, as she disappeared back inside.
“Well,” he continued, “I’ve got a few men in my jail, as you know, and I told you before that I’m getting tired of the hangings. I’ve got one going to do a death-defying jump—if he’s lucky, that is—right over the courthouse on a motorcycle, Evel-Knievel style. The second
