in goin’ to the trouble to transport ’em all that long way?” When he saw the skeptical look he got from Ben, he was quick to explain. “Hell, I ain’t talkin’ about horse thieves and bank robbers that ain’t shot nobody. We carry them back to trial. But when you’re haulin’ a couple of murderers like these two, that’s liable to kill you if you was to get careless, it makes sense to save the hangman the trouble.”
Ben took a long pause before he responded. “Well,” he finally said, “I reckon that is one way of lookin’ at it. I expect it depends on the company you’re in. F-company has always been one to see a prisoner get his day in court and let the executioner do his job.”
Billy was clearly disappointed, and not looking forward to a hard two-day ride, hauling the two prisoners. He was sorry to hear Ben’s reluctance to eliminate the possibility of trouble, as well. He reached over and picked up a couple of small limbs and stuck them on the fire. He bit his lip and shook his head and sighed as he watched them catch fire, “It’s gonna be a long ride from here to Austin.”
“Reckon so,” Ben replied, “always is.” His opinion of Billy Turner had dropped considerably in the last few minutes. There were often times when a Ranger was given no choice in the question of life or death. There were lots of times when you transported a corpse back from an arrest attempt. But to outright execute a bound prisoner to save yourself some trouble couldn’t be classified as anything short of murder, which made you no better than the outlaw you were sent to arrest.
As both Rangers expected, Big Foot Sam and Jack were already discussing the prospects of a possible escape. “It ain’t gonna be easy,” Sam said, speaking just above a whisper as their captors went about the business of cooking some sowbelly and boiling coffee.
“It’s a long way from here to Austin,” Jack replied. “I heard ’em say they was gonna make it in two days. They’re liable to slip up sometime, we just got to watch for it. If they get us locked up in Austin, it’s gonna be the hangman’s rope for us and that ain’t no lie.” He paused when Billy walked close by on his way to fill the coffeepot with water. “You see what I see?” Jack continued after Billy passed by. “Look at them packs they took off our horses. They tied our gun belts to ’em. Now, that’s mighty careless.”
“I expect they emptied the guns,” Sam said. “Don’t you reckon?”
“Not while I was lookin,” Jack replied, “and I’ve been watchin’ ’em pretty close. They ain’t likely gonna leave ’em like that, but maybe we’ll get a chance if they unlock us to eat.”
The two outlaws were not the only ones to take note of the gun belts hanging conveniently on top of the packs stacked over away from the fire. When Billy came back with the coffeepot filled with water, Ben nodded toward the packs. “I expect we’d best carry those gun belts on our horses.”
“Yeah, I was thinkin’ the same thing,” Billy replied. “We’d better do that. Ain’t no need to worry about it right now, though. I emptied the cartridges outta the guns, just in case. I’ll take care of ’em after we eat. Right now, this sowbelly looks like it’s ready, and they’re wantin’ somethin’ to eat. I’ll go unlock ’em. Get ready to cover ’em.” He got up from one knee and went at once to unlock the prisoners. His actions surprised Ben, since Billy just seemed to take command of the situation without consulting him.
Ben hesitated for a minute, but there wasn’t time to put the belts and holsters out of sight, so he drew his weapon preparing to guard the prisoners while they ate. Billy’s actions were unbelievably careless, but Ben figured there was no real danger, since the guns were empty. Even if they made a play for them, it would all be over once they found out there were no bullets in them. “Bring ’em around this way, Billy,” he said when the prisoners started toward the fire on the side closer to the packs. When Billy didn’t respond, it suddenly struck Ben what he was up to. “You peckerhead!” he uttered, then yelled at the outlaws. “Stop right there!” But it was too late. Jack Queen bolted toward the packs and the .44 sitting conveniently waiting to be drawn. He was downed by a shot in the back before he reached the weapon.
In a panic then, thinking the Rangers planned to kill them both, Sam saw no alternative other than an attempt to save himself. Ignoring Ben’s commands to stop where he was, Sam lunged toward the packs and snatched the .44 out of the holster. “It’s empty,” Ben told him. “Drop it.”
Billy stood, waiting, his pistol cocked and ready, watching for Sam’s next move. Convinced that he had no choice, Sam aimed the weapon at Billy and pulled the trigger, only to hear the lifeless click of the hammer on an empty cylinder. His eyes wide with fright, he pulled the trigger again and again. Ben looked at Billy to see a cynical smile of contempt an instant before Billy cut Sam down with a shot in the chest. Feeling Ben’s look of total disbelief, Billy turned to him with a smug smile on his face. “What?” he asked.
“You sick mongrel,” Ben responded. “You set those men up to murder ’em.”
“Murder?” Billy blurted. “The hell it was! It was self-defense. They were goin’ after that gun.”
“You set it up for them,” Ben insisted. “I shoulda known you were up to something as low-down as that—shoulda known that gun settin’ up there was nothin’ but bait, so you could shoot ’em.”
“What the hell is your complaint?” Billy responded. “They didn’t know the gun wasn’t loaded. They woulda sure as hell shot us if it hadda been. So what’s the difference? They was on their way to a hangin’, anyway, so we did ’em a favor and did us one, too. Now, we don’t have to worry about all the trouble of haulin’ their sorry asses all the way to Austin.” It was obvious to him that Ben wasn’t buying his attitude, so he began to worry that he had made a mistake in judgment. From all he had ever heard about the big lawman working out of F-Company, he assumed that Ben Savage was stone-cold hard on outlaws—and far from a by-the-book Ranger. “You ain’t gone goody-goody on me, have you?”
Ben didn’t answer him for a long moment. It was the first time in his twelve years as a Texas Ranger that he was tempted to shoot a fellow Ranger. When he felt he was calm enough, he answered Billy. “I reckon you and I don’t see this job in the same way. You don’t seem to have any problem with what you just did. And I have a helluva problem with it. It ain’t your job to execute a prisoner. It’s just your job to catch him. If you’re so damn anxious to shoot a man, then give him a loaded gun, too. Maybe you oughta apply for a job as a hangman.”
“So now what?” Billy asked. “You gonna go runnin’ to Captain Mitchell complainin’ about me shootin’ two worthless saddle tramps? Maybe you oughta been a deacon instead of a Ranger.”
“No, I’ll let you take your two prisoners in by yourself. Make up any story you want about how brave you were, standing up to two killers. Then get your ass back up to Fort Worth and don’t ever cross my trail again. I won’t be ridin’ back with you. If you’re thinkin’ about shuttin’ me up the same way you did those two, you need to remember that my gun is loaded.” He left Billy standing there while he went to saddle his horse and load his packhorse, having decided that he wouldn’t risk riding back with him, since Billy knew what he thought of his actions against two defenseless men. He didn’t trust Billy enough now to close his eyes with him in his camp. He believed there was a real possibility that he might be another fatality in Billy’s heroic gun battle when he would report to the Ranger captain, Randolph Mitchell. Maybe he should report Billy’s actions to the captain, but somehow, Ben was reluctant to report any transgressions committed by a fellow Ranger. He didn’t know what to do about it, if anything, so for that reason, he just decided to let Billy take the credit for doing the job he was sent down here to do, knowing he’d never work
