Smitty was a tall fella, as tall as Jeff, and skinnier than a willow switch. He wore his blond hair down past his collar. Smitty, like Jeff, was still wearing his Yankee-issued blue britches with the yellow stripes running down each leg, which marked him and Jeff as ex-Yankee patriots.
“Ain’t ya even gonna stay to see who they’re gonna hang, Lieutenant?”
“No, I don’t think so, Smitty. It doesn’t seem like something I’d wanna watch.”
“The man they’re gonna hang is our…er, he was our corporal. Bo Jenkins, you remember him don’t you, Lieu…er, Jeff?”
“Yeah, I remember him. Did Bo really do what they said he done? Did he shoot that lawman dead?”
“Yeah, ’fraid so, but that deputy was goadin’ us, Jeff. It was plainly ’cause of our uniforms too. All we wanted was a cool beer and then we was fixin’ to go on and leave this place. But that damn deputy, he kept proddin’ us. I just turned my back and ignored the SOB and kept on drinkin’ my beer. But Bo, hell no, old Bo, he wouldn’t let it alone. The feller had made old Bo plumb mad. Bo turned around and told that lawman to pull it. The feller commenced to, but Bo outdrew him and shot him dead. These townies who saw it called it murder, Jeff. Now they’re gonna hang old Bo this afternoon, I don’t want to, but I gotta stay and watch it, for Bo’s sake. You understand, don’t ya, Jeff?”
“Maybe you won’t have to stay,” Jeff said quietly. “Drink up and meet me outside.” Jeff finished his beer and went outside to his mounts. Smitty came out and stood by the hitch rail as Jeff said, “Meet me at the end of this street.” Then he got on his gelding and walked him leading the pack animal down the street. He never looked back.
Smitty stood there for two minutes. Then he was on his horse sitting next to Jeff. “What do you have on your mind, Jeff?”
“I’m thinking we could bust Bo out of that jail, if you have the nerve to try it.”
“Hot dang, you think we can?”
“Sure, if we plan it right. I say we go into the jail, masked and with guns drawn, tie up the law, and break Bo out, then we ride like the wind out of town, what ya say? You up to it?”
“Yah, let’s do it.”
“Okay, you get two horses, meet me in back of the jail.” Jeff was waiting when Smitty rode up leading a horse. “Tie up your nags. Now, we go in with covered faces, so they don’t recognize us.” Both men drew their guns and went into the jail. Two men had their backs to the door and were talking. “Don’t turn around! Raise your hands in the air!” Both men’s hands shot straight up in the air. Jeff disarmed one. The other townie had no weapon. “Into that cell, pronto, gents!” Smitty locked their cell door. Bo was standing at his cell door, grinning like a possum, as Smitty unlocked it.
“Dammit, Smitty, am I glad to see you. Who’s that with you?”
“Never mind, Bo.”
“I’ll be just outside this cell door, and if either one of you gents makes a sound, I’ll come back and kill you both,” Jeff growled in a bass voice.
Once outside, Smitty and Bo jumped on their horses. Smitty pulled down his mask and asked Jeff, “You coming with us?”
“No, you’re on your own. I’m going back to town, find me another saloon, and hopefully have a cold beer. You two better git going and ride them two nags into the ground before you stop. I’ll be seeing you both maybe, someday.”
“Thanks, Jeff.”
“Jeff?” asked Bo. “Is that our lieut—”
“Stuff a sock in it, Bo!” yelled Smitty. He stuck out his hand to Jeff. “Thank you, for both of us.”
Jeff waved it away! “Get moving you two, or you’ll both get your necks stretched today.”
Smitty and Bo galloped away, riding low in their saddles, like the hounds from hell were after ’em. They soon would be. Jeff pulled down his handkerchief and smiled. Bo hadn’t recognized Jeff’s voice.
Chapter Eleven
Jeff slowly walked his two horses down the alley to the end and came out three blocks away and onto the main street, then he rode almost to the other end of town and pulled up at the hitch rail of the last saloon. Jeff calmly tied up and was having his second cool beer when a townie rushed in and hollered, “Two masked men just now broke that feller we was gonna hang outa our jailhouse. The sheriff’s forming up a posse to go after ’em. Who wants to go?” Twelve men rushed through the batwing doors dang near at once. Jeff took another sip of his beer. He had to smile. Those two scared fellows he’d locked up in the jail cell had stayed quiet just long enough.
“Ready for another beer, gent,” the barkeep asked Jeff. “My cook says your steak is about ready.”
Jeff finished his T-bone steak. He got a shave at the barbershop, replenished his grub supply, and bought grain and oats from the mercantile store. Then he slowly walked his two rested horses out of town, heading them west, the same direction them two outlaw fellers had went. Jeff walked, trotted, and jogged his mounts for the rest of the afternoon until he met the posse coming back at almost sundown. He could see they hadn’t caught up with those two outlaws when they rode past him and waved. Jeff had his coat draped over his cantle. He was hiding the yellow stripes on his pants legs.
Jeff rode another hundred yards until he came across a narrow gravel bedded creek. He made camp beside it and made a small fire. He filled his coffeepot with water, added some crushed coffee beans, and put the pot on to brew. He grained and watered and rubbed down his two horses, then sat down on a log with a tin cup of hot coffee. Jeff wasn’t hungry, but he was tired and was looking forward to rolling up in his blankets and getting a good night’s sleep.
“Don’t move, mister, we got you covered.” Jeff stiffened, then recognized the voice of Smitty behind him. “Are you two fellows nuts?” Jeff asked, without turning around. “That posse might be camped close by.”
“Nah, we watched them from the tree line. They’re long gone over the next hill. They oughta be nearly back to town by now. How the hell are you, Lieutenant Nelson?” asked Bo Jenkins.
“I’m fine, Bo,” Jeff replied as he turned. “How come you two boys aren’t still traveling?”
“My mount lost the shoe off his front hoof, Jeff. He started limping,” replied Smitty, “so we holed up in that stand of trees yonder till we seen you coming down the road. We watched till that posse rode on over the next hill, and then we eased on down here to your camp hoping for some grub and coffee.”
“Help yourself to the coffee, boys. I’m still full of my lunch of steak, but y’all can help yourself to some bacon and a can of beans a piece. You’ll find ’em in my camp sack. Then y’all are welcome to stay the night if one of you stands guard duty. I ain’t lookin’ to get my neck stretched if that posse comes back this way to see who’s cooking that bacon.”
“Forget frying that bacon, Bo, we’ll just have us a can of beans apiece to go with our coffee.”
“Thanks, Jeff, for busting my ass outa that jailhouse. I thought I was a goner till I seen Smitty standing there. I didn’t recognize you, though.”
“You’re welcome, Bo. Next time you shoot someone, you may not be so lucky to have a friend nearby.”
“I’ve learned my lesson, Jeff, truly I have. There ain’t gonna be no next time. I’m goaded again, I’m walkin’ away, and you can bet yer money on it.”
“Good man. Well, good night, boys, I’m off to bed. I’ll see you both in the morning. Don’t forget what I said about one of you standing guard, at least until we’re about fifty miles down the road.”
“Yes, sir, Loo-tenant,”