Chapter Fifty-Two
"Lt. Colonel, Mark Anderson awaiting your orders, Sir!" the young Cavalry officer proclaimed as he marched up onto the depot platform and gave the pale, pacing peace officer a rather snappy salute.
"At ea-ease!" Jim ordered with a roll of his eyes. "Better yet--DISMISSED! You're too old--an' too capable--ta have ta be told what ta do..." he tacked on with a grin.
The capable young Colonel returned the Marshal's grin--and acknowledged his compliment with a slight bow of his head. Then he spun on his heels and headed back down the stairs to hold a huddled conference with two of his staff sergeants.
"I know why I'm dressed like this," the fellah in the black, three-piece suit said ta the fellah in the blue, three-piece suit, "but what's got you 'all gussied up', Mac?"
"Miss Sarah Lou Burke is comin' back for a visit," the Scotsman explained as he stepped up onto the platform to stand beside his boss.
"Oh-oh?" the Marshal innocently acknowledged, but then he and his other deputy exchanged knowing glances.
"An' you kin bet there's more ta his presence here than common courtesy!" the young reporter reasoned with a grin. Then he stepped up and stood at his boss' other elbow.
Jim was about to ask both of his close friends for a little elbow room, when Charley Adams suddenly stepped up behind him. "What're YOU doin' here?"
"I came ta see if you wanted ta go fishin'," Charley told his suspicious chum. "But you kin forget it, Crown! 'Cuz you don' look like you could make it ta the river!" he added--with reference to his fishin' partner's extreme pallor.
Crown's pale face scrunched up a might and his mouth dropped open. But, before he could comment on Charley's comments, his old friend from back East appeared before him.
"Maggie's really looking forward ta seein' you, again," Dave declared, "it's been five whole years since the Whitehouse Ball!"
The now completely surrounded Marshal gave his bodyguards--er, good friends--'oh-oh brother' looks. "I-I am goin' over there..." he calmly pointed out and directed their attention to the empty other end of the platform. "An' you-ou are not!" he firmly added--with reference to the four a' them. Then he elbowed his way clear a' the crowd and assumed his new--OFF LIMITS ta friends--position.
"I told yous it would never work," Doctor Jarrod Michael Ellis reminded the legend's glum-looking friends. Then he faced Francis and rather matter-of-factly asked, "Will you be my best man?"
"Sure!" Francis fired back, "Who's the unlucky lady?"
"That's not funny!" the physician further reminded his now grinning groomsman.
A train whistle sounded--somewhere's off in the very great distance.
"So," the doctor said as the writer jerked his unbandaged head in the ominous? sound's direction, "what did this 'girl of your dreams' look like?"
"Tha-at's not 'funny'!" the anxious--an' on edge--reporter quickly pointed out and began monkeyin' with his new camera.
The Marshal had found and wound his watch. When the whistle blew, he pulled the tickin' time-piece out--opened it up--and examined it. "It's late..." he announced to no one in particular and returned the watch to his vest pocket. "Which makes it right on schedule!" he added lightly. The lawman looked around him.
Everybody in their little group seemed ta be goin' out a' their way ta NOT be where they were in the 'nightmare'.
Crown couldn' help but notice how the people with him on the platform occasionally scanned the skies. 'Prob'ly keepin' their eyes peeled--in case any a' them 'puffy white wisps a' clouds' should happen ta come floatin' along,' the lawman rather lightly surmised--solely to himself. His own decision ta steer clear a' Katelyn had nothin' ta do with some superstitious nonsense about Francis' nightmare. Crown was jes' bein cautious...real cautious. And--bein' cautious--he kept his eyes down ta earth! And so he saw it--right at the corner of the train station's storage shed! Jim Crown caught a glimpse of something--a tiny, bright flash a' light--like the sun glinting off of metal! The Marshal stiffened and what blood he had ran cold--as he realized he was staring down the metal bore of a rifle! And he couldn't duck! Because, right behind him--in the direct line a' fi-ire--were Katelyn an' Jamie! "Everybody! GET DO-OWN!" he shouted. Then he turned around and shoved his wife--and child--out of the way.
The rifle 'cracked'!
Something plucked at the lawman's left side and he was catapulted--backwards--clean off'n the platform!
Katelyn had screamed when the shot first rang out. And--as Jim Crown was spun completely around and hurled to the ground--his horrified wife let out another hair-raising 'screa-eam'!
As he was falling, Crown jerked out his Colt and squeezed off several shots in the immediate area of his attacker. The Marshal also swung himself around in mid-air, so that--when he finally did hit the ground--he was face down. Which enabled the agile lawman to take advantage of his momentum and somersault himself over to the protective cover of some packing crates. There seemed to be a great deal of commotion going on around him, so Jim just stayed--right where he laid--and listened.
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Elliot Polk had been stalking the Marshal for the past ten minutes. It had taken the outlaw over four days of constant struggle to work his wrists free of his bonds. In the process, he'd rubbed the hide off'n his hands--and the bark off'n that tree he'd been tied to. Nearly dead--from thirst an' starvation--what had kept the hapless fool going was his goal: To kill Marshal Crown--for trussin' 'im up ta that tree an' leavin' 'im there--ta rot! (What--with carin' for her wounded husband an' all--Katelyn had completely forgotten about her 'brained' prisoner!) The crazed--an' jes' plain crazy--gunman grinned as his first shot made contact with its intended target. Then his grin vanished and he pulled his head back around the side of the shed. His shot had not proved fatal--for his intended target was returning fire!
As were several dozen other 'armed and dangerous' allies of the fallen lawman.
Polk decided to retreat and try to accomplish his glorious goal from a new--an' less open--position. One of the last sounds he heard was the shouted order to "HALT!" and the last sight he saw was a young soldier--bringing his rifle up to his shoulder. 'Perhaps,' Polk told himself as he toppled head-long into the dust, 'I should a' halted...'
"It's all clear, Colonel!" Elliot Polk's executioner shouted, "The sniper's DEAD!"
Elliots Polk's intended target exhaled a sore sigh of relief. The Marshal was most happy ta hear that! Jim gasped again and--after slipping his gun back into its holster--slowly started sitting up.
The target's terrified wife was the first to reach him--closely followed by his horrified physician.
Seeing the looks of absolute dread on their faces--and being as how he was still too breathless to speak--the lawman tried to muster up a reassuring smile. But, having a rifle bullet--fired from relatively close range--ricochet off'n yore rib cage did not leave a body feelin' like smilin'. So the best Crown could come up with was a reassurin' 'wink'.
The look on Katelyn's face changed to a mixutre of relief a-and disbelief, "I saw you get hit!"
"The bullet...jes' grazed...my left side," the 'target' told her--through tightly clenched teeth, "as soon as the pain passes...I'll be all ri-ight!" Jim Crown gasped and his already grimacing face contorted--as the young doctor's probing fingers explored his wound.
At the sight of the six-inch long crease in the lawman's left side, the physician's frown deepened. Then he lowered the Marshal's bloodied shirt-tail and soberly announced his findings, "Looks like I get to stitch you up again, afterall..."
"Later, Doc'!" his now apparently pain-free patient promised. The rest of Jim's anxious looking' friends had appeared by then. The peace officer extended his arms to two of them and they obligingly pulled him to his feet. And it felt so good to be standing again, that the lawman actually managed a grin! "Right now, I got ta mee--"
"Do you recognize this man, Marshal?" the Colonel suddenly inquired.
Crown stared down at the corpse the Colonel's men were carrying, as though he were looking at a ghost! "His last name is Polk," the peace officer replied.
"Oo-oops!" Katelyn gulped as she, too, caught sight of the cadaver in question.
A look of dawning understanding came over Jim Crown--closely followed by one of fury, "You were there! My shot in the dark wasn' so lucky, after all! You clobbered 'im over the head, didn' you?!"
The lovely lady looked guilty as charged, "What with one thing an' another...I plumb forgot about hi-im!"
The lawman looked even more furious, "Of all the crazy FOOL 'stunts'! You could a' been KILLED!"
"So could a' YOU-OU!" Katelyn quickly came back, "He was fixin' ta shoot you!"
"I was shootin' ba-ack!" the Marshal reminded her, "It could a' been me that KILL'T you!"
"I du-ucked!" the lady stated--in her defense.
Her husband grimaced and gasped in exasperation. Then he glanced heavenward and mumbled something under his breath about her bein' pig-headed.
"Mus' be the company I keep!" she annoyedly shot back.
As the lawman lowered his gaze, the look in his dark, green eyes was more one of amusement than anger. He and his feisty wife exchanged smiles.
Then--relieved that they were both still breathing--the couple collapsed into each other's arms--amidst cheers of approval--an' much applause.
Noting that it was the woman who had managed to get in the last word, MacGregor determined right out loud--to the entire assembled crowd, "Ah think Marshal Crown may a' finally met 'is match!"
Speakin' a' meetin' things...
The new brother-in-law suddenly broke free of their embrace and stared glumly down at his completely disarrayed--and dust-covered--self. "So much for first impressions..." he muttered dejectedly.
"Oh-oh...I dunno," his spouse stooped down to retrieve his Stetson and--after brushin' the dust off'n it a bit--placed it upon his hangin' head like it was a crown, "she looks pretty impressed ta me!"
Jim's head snapped up as her words sank in an' then he quickly snapped it around.
There, on the track, sat an entire train load of impressed looking people! Some of them had their heads hanging out of the windows. All of them had their eyes opened wide. Half of them had their brows arched high, and most all of their jaws were slack. The passengers had--apparently--just witnessed what had happened there!
One pretty little passenger in particular stepped down onto the disembarking platform and declared as much, "THAT was the most amazing thing I've ever seen--in my whole entire life!"
The amazing Marshal's face scrunched up a might. Then--before turnin' towards his audience, the 'legend' flicked some of the dust from the front of his suit and--carefully--tucked his bloodied shirt back in.
"KRISTY?!" Francis suddenly exclaimed and snapped his head up from his new camera's view finder, "Kristina Samuelson?!" he elaborated as the familiar young lady flew down the stairs and into her older sister's open arms.
"FRANCIS!" Katelyn's kid sister exclaimed herself and--after giving her big sister's handsome husband's hand a hearty shake and his slightly damaged body a warm, but careful, embrace--'Kristy' turned and hugged the incredulous cameraman, as well. "Or--should I say--Mister Wilde...free-lance journalist an' world famous author!...Francis an' I are old school chums," she went on to explain--for her sister's and brother-in-law's sakes. "We shared the same writing courses at Wesley Junior College. 'Til you left ta find yore fame an' fortune!" she added, sounding just a tad bit disappointed.
"I had ta leave," her classmate glumly confessed, "I didn't have the money ta pay for my tuition."
The young lady looked both sad a-and happy to hear that. "You simply must sign this for me!" she insisted and released the hold she had been keeping on the reporter's arms to thrust a copy of 'Taming The Territory' at him. "Somethin' tells me," the pretty miss proclaimed, "that this book is definitely non-fiction!"
The still completely overwhelmed young writer glanced back at his boss as the girl took one of his arms in her's and began towing him off. "P-Pretty mu-uch..."Francis finally managed to stammer.
Kristy looked even more amazed and then somewhat curious, "No-ow, where is that young nephew a' mine?"
Katelyn stared after her kid sister, lookin' a tad bit disappointed herself. Kristy was obviously more impressed--er, interested in Francis than in either of them. Oh well, at least she hadn't completely forgotten the baby!
Kristina Samuelson's brother-in-law smiled as Dulcey handed Jamie over to his aunty. The Marshal was right! There really was nothin' more 'mystifyin'' than a female!
Speakin' a' whi-ich...
"Ma-ac!" a vaguely familiar female voice suddenly called out.
"Sarah!" the Scotsman shouted back.
And all heads turned in the newest arrival's direction.
"Ah, lass!" Mac exclaimed to the beautiful woman who threw herself into his open arms, "Ah kin no' begin ta tell yah how good it is ta have yah back!"
"Ah-ah, MacGregor!" the misty-eyed--and mystifyin'--female joyously proclaimed, "I've missed yah! Yah handsome devil!" Sarah gave the grinning Scotsman another hearty--and heartfelt--embrace and then shot his banged up a bit boss a sobering glance, "I see you're still making enemies, Marshal..." she noted and motioned to the motionless fellow being hauled off to the undertaker's.
"Eh-yeah," the lawman had to glumly admit. "But not as fast as I'm makin' friends!" he added with a grin. "Sarah, I'd like you ta meet my wife, Katelyn. Katelyn, this is Miss Sarah Lou Burke--an old acquaintance a' Mac's...an' mine."
The two women exchanged warm smiles and handshakes.
"You got a line yet on any fast horses?" Mac's old acquaintance suddenly inquired of him, "In a 'land rush', the best land belongs to the riders with the fastest horses!"
'Or ta people with friends in the right places...' the Marshal mused and patted the completely filled out--and filed-- homestead application forms in his coat pocket. (Jim really was no-o angel.)
"When did you hear about the Outlet opening?!" MacGregor asked in astonishment as his old acquaintance took him by the arm and began towing him off.
"Five days ago," Sarah matter-of-factly informed him, "I left San Francisco the moment I got the Marshal's telegram. My dress business is so successful that I am--yah might say--financially independent. I just had to come back and help you get your--barley! After all, it was your--generosity that got me started!" (Three years back, the woman had received $500 in 'reward' money from Mac.)
As the grateful--and lovely--lady gave his left arm a warm squeeze, Mac glanced back over his shoulder and gave his good friend an eternally grateful glance.
The Marshal shrugged, "It's the company I keep..." he lightly surmised and then he and the Scotsman exchanged wry smiles.
"Katelyn," Jim Crown said as Dave Fisher's 'better half' came stepping up, "I'd like you ta meet another old acquaintance a mine. Maggie Fisher, this is my wife, Katelyn."
The two women exchanged warm smiles and handshakes.
"It's been a long time, Maggie. How have you been? An' how are the children?" her husband's best friend wondered and gave the beautiful mother of five a warm embrace.
"Travel--between Washin'ton an' Texas--keeps me on the move," Maggie replied, "but I LOVE ta travel! An', runnin' two households keeps me busy. The children have all been hopelessly spoiled--by their father!"
"Speakin' a' their father...Where is Dave?" Jim pondered. What with all a' the people milling about--it was hard ta keep track of anybody.
"He gave me a hug when I got off the train and then went into a huddle with Jordan--an' that young writer friend a' yores..." Maggie said as she, too, scanned the crowd. "Here they come now..." she added--upon spying the approaching conspirators.
"What's this?" Jim nervously inquired as Dave placed a large envelope--and several back East newspapers--in his hands.
"You kin read!" David Samuel Fisher reminded him, "I know, 'cuz, you taught me!"
The literate lawman shot the secretive Senator an annoyed glare--before opening the envelope and closely examining its contents. His head snapped up and his look of annoyance turned to one of incredulity, "Train tickets ta San Francisco...an' steamship passage for two ta AUSTRALIA?!"
The travel planner looked extremely pleased with himself, "Consider it a weddin' present!"
"You want us ta honeymoon half-way 'round the world?!" Jim Crown incredulously inquired.
The travel planner looked tremendously disappointed and snatched the envelope back, "They're not for you-ou! They're for Maggie an' me! Jes' read, James!" Dave impatiently implored of his now hopelessly confused partner--and flipped several of the newspapers open.
Jim Crown looked even more incredulous. He'd managed to make the headlines on all three of the prominent paper's front pages! DOC' CROWN TO LEAVE THE COUNTRY proclaimed one. LEGEND OF THE STRIP SETTLES IN AUSTRALIAN OUTBACK read another. RETIRED MARSHAL SOON TO BE AUSTRALIAN RANCHER said the third. The reader paused to shoot his young writer friend a puzzled stare.
"I decided Doc' should disappear," the legend's creator calmly expounded, "before he gets you killed!"
"An' Maggie's been after me for years ta take her somewhere--besides Washin'ton!" Dave calmly added. Then he pulled a silver band from out of his coat pocket and slipped it over the crown of his black Stetson, "Pretty slick, huh!"
"It's CRAZY!" Jim Crown corrected. But then thoughtfully added, "Jes' might be crazy enuff ta work!" And he gave the three schemers a grateful grin.
His wife--who had been reading over his shoulder--passed the papers back to Francis and then carefully pulled the Australian rancher? into her arms, "An' you said there was no 'future' for a Mrs. Crown!" the woman teased with a mischievous smile.
"No-o," her famous--er, infamous husband calmly corrected, "I said there was no 'future' for a Mrs. Marshal. But you may be right, too," he teased back. "What--with the Marshal retirin'...an' the Legend leavin' for Australia...It looks like you're gonna be left with just a poor...dumb...cowboy!"
"Oh-oh, I dunno," the lady determined with the loveliest of smiles, "you're not so-o 'dumb'!"
"He's not so 'poor', either..." Dave nervously announced and passed his partner another set of papers.
The lawman stared down at the leather-cased document in his hand and suddenly looked a little nervous himself. Then he untied the string, unfolded the thing and reluctantly perused its contents. Jim's jaw dropped and he stared up at Dave in utter astonishment! It was the deed to the 'Two Crowns'! Even more astonishing--his name was still on it!
"Estefan` Jazeres died two years ago," the Senator sadly announced, "He and his son drowned in a flash flood. 'Mrs.' Jazeres left--to be with her family in Mexico."
Jim Crown was deeply saddened to hear that yet another of his old friend's had died. For the longest time, the owner of the 'Two Crowns' was too stunned to speak. "How do YOU know all a' this?" the not so 'poor' and not so 'dumb' cowboy curiously inquired--when he finally recovered his composure.
"I was Estefan's lawyer," the politician/lawyer explained, "He hired me the moment I graduated from law school. Estefan used me ta keep track a' you all these years. Tom Donnely has been runnin' the place in Estefan's absence--as a personal favor ta me... an' you. Estefan gave the 'Two Crowns' back ta you over twenty years ago. But he didn' want me ta show you the deed 'til you were ready ta settle down an'--as he put it--'stop turnin' yore back on yore inheritance'..."
Speakin' a' settlin' things...
Jim Crown drew his right fist back and let the left side of his old friend's jaw have it!
The blow rocked David Samuel Fisher back and knocked him clean off'n his feet--again! "Thanks for pullin' yore punch, James!" Dave gratefully declared and gave his sore jaw a rub.
"I figured I'd better!" James said as he locked onto his partner's extended hand and hauled him up off'n the ground, "You might grow up some day...an' become President! An' I didn' want you issuin' any a' them notorious 'Presidential Directives' declarin' open season on me--on account a' how I once broke yore jaw in the Indian Territory!"