Robbery at Holliday Creek (14)-

http://www.robertfaulkender.com

Not the Usual Crook.

© Robert Faulkender

The widow Colby’s cottage was down the cross street and over the Holliday Creek bridge. Her garden stretched from the creek bank up into her backyard.  For reasons he could never have explained, Ted rode his horse down into the creek, upstream from the bridge. The stream was about twenty feet wide and shallow enough for Spirit to walk across.

    He could tell, even from mid stream, that whatever lay on the far bank didn’t belong there.  He dismounted on the shore for a closer look at… son of gun, tops of corn stalks.  And there they were; barefoot prints pointing upstream. Ted tracked the water’s edge; now and then catching the hint of a footprint. He continued.

     It was late afternoon when he smelled the smoke, but he didn’t see them till he was on top of their site. From shock, to disbelief, to arrest; in fifteen minutes he had them under control.

     This was not what Ted had in mind when he took up sheriffing – walking beside his horse through the west Texas plains with three colored kids in tow. 

     How in the name of Sam Hill did these kids wind up on the leading edge of the Llano, in a dugout cave on the south bank of Holliday Creek? 

     And the first thing out of the older one’s mouth, “Is dis here Kansas?”

   Ted checked to see if the youngest was sleeping in the saddle.

    All that kid needed was to fall asleep, slip off the horse, and break his other foot – judging that was the problem with kid’s rag-wrapped first one. 

   The busted foot didn’t look too good, all swollen and red. His older sister had done the best she could, but the boy really needed Doc Madden to look at it. 

    The oldest, Joseph, said he was maybe fifteen and that Sarah was thirteen. Danny was nine.

     And what’s a fifteen year old black kid doing with a carbine? 

     The lad hadn’t turned over the Spencer without objection. Ted had to pull his sheriff rank for the boy to reluctantly hand it over. By and large, however, they had cooperated with the law respectfully. They were scared; not panicked. When Sheriff Skillman told them that they were not under arrest, and that he was taking them into town, he thought he detected a look of relief on Sarah’s face.

     “Gather up your things,” he told them, “You’re coming with me. Put the small one on my horse. You got two minutes to clear this dugout. Make sure the fire is buried.” 

     Sarah produced a two gallon bucket and dumped the water on the fire. She then collected the sum of their possessions in the bucket. Ted watched them clear the area. The boy’s clothes were ragged but clean, and he noticed the bar of soap in the bucket. Joseph was quick about getting his little brother on the horse, and, in two minutes flat, the eclectic little party headed northeast along the banks of Holliday Creek.

Now what to do...