Wired And Tired
Stories similar to this that you might like too.
“How many?”
“Thirty-one, sir,” answered the man in charge of the counting room. “That’s all that came through.”
The count was over and Ben Wade stood looking down at his list as if he expected to see something wrong with it. He knew there must be some mistake somewhere but couldn’t find one. The names were right; they matched with those on his own list.
Thirty-one men had come into town last night—and thirty-one men still remained in the bank vault. That was what mattered now. No more money would leave the place until every last cent was accounted for. But no matter how long he looked at the list, nothing seemed out of order or suspicious.
It could only mean that the men who left here last night were not thieves after all. They didn’t want to steal the cash so why should anyone else?
But the men hadn’t stolen anything from the bank. What did it mean then?
Ben shook off his bewilderment. There was plenty of time to puzzle it out later. For the present, he had other matters to attend to.
He turned toward the door and stopped. One of his men approached him carrying a folded newspaper. Ben glanced down at it. A headline jumped out at him: “Banks Robbed!” He scanned the story quickly.
The article said that five banks had been robbed within twenty miles of the city. All of them except one had been hit by masked bandits. In each case, the robbers escaped with large sums of money. Most of the robberies had taken place late last night, which made it seem likely that the same gang was responsible for them all.
A shiver went up Ben’s spine when he read the following words: “…but no clue has yet been found to the identity of the bandits. Two weeks ago, three outlaws held up the Bank of West Texas in Fort Worth, stealing $5,000, but they were captured soon afterward… Police are searching for a bandit named Ben Wade…”
If that wasn’t bad enough, there was also this paragraph: “…the robbery took place at 11:30 p.m., an hour before closing. Since there is always someone working behind the counter during such hours, the alarm was given immediately and the bandits got away without firing a shot…”
There was another item about the robbery in the police blotter. An elderly woman was killed when she tried to stop the bandits from escaping. She had died instantly from her injuries. Her body lay in a pool of blood near the front entrance of the bank.
With these things in mind, Ben knew he could not afford to delay. If the authorities caught wind of the bank being robbed while he was still inside, they might suspect he was involved. Then the law would have him under suspicion and would be watching every move he made. He had to get outside fast!
After taking a quick glance around the bank lobby, he headed for the door. His hand went instinctively to his pocket where he kept his gun. He wanted to be prepared for trouble. But as he reached the exit, the door opened ahead of him and he heard a familiar voice call out, “Mr. Wade!”
Ben spun around and saw his brother standing on the threshold. Mark was dressed in street clothes rather than a sheriff’s uniform. Ben guessed that meant his brother had just finished work and was returning home.
“Mark! How good of you to come,” said Ben, relieved. “I need your help.”
His brother stepped aside to let him pass. “What happened?” asked Mark. “Did the bandits escape?”
“No, we’ve already recovered the money. Nothing was stolen.”
“Good.” His brother nodded. “Then I’ll take my leave now.” He started to walk away.
“Wait,” called Ben. “Let me introduce you to Mr. Parker.”
He motioned to the banker who was standing beside Mark. The two men shook hands. As their clasped hands touched, Mark gasped. “Sheriff! You’re alive!”
Ben grinned. “It appears that I am indeed still breathing. So, how do you feel about me living again?”
“You don’t look dead to me,” replied Mark. “In fact, I can hardly believe it’s possible. You’re not making fun of me, are you?”
“Not at all,” said Ben, “although it’s true that I’m not exactly the picture of health today.” He paused and looked closely at his brother. “Something seems different about you.”
“Yes,” Mark admitted. “This morning I decided to shave my face. Why did you say something’s different?”
“Your hair. When I last saw you, it was short like mine. Now it looks longer. That doesn’t happen naturally unless you’re growing it. Have you cut it or is there some reason why you changed your appearance?”
Mark shrugged uncomfortably. “Nothing really. I just felt like shaving it.”
They stood there exchanging awkward glances until Ben cleared his throat and asked, “How long has it been since you shaved your head?”
“Several months. It was getting pretty unruly.”
That explained everything. They both wore similar haircuts—short, buzzed cuts. And if Mark had grown his hair out recently, then it must mean he had been trying to disguise himself as Ben.
The idea surprised Ben. Of course, Mark could easily have done so if he’d wished to impersonate him. After all, they shared the same features and height. Even the way they walked and talked seemed similar.
There was only one difference between them that Ben hadn’t noticed before. Mark’s eyes appeared brighter and clearer; Ben suspected that his brother had used some form of eye drops to improve his vision.
Now that Mark had confessed, Ben couldn’t help wondering what he had planned to accomplish by impersonating him. Was it because of his feelings for Mary? Did he want to see her again after she refused his proposal? Or was it something else entirely? Perhaps he wanted to go into business with Ben, which would make sense considering Mark was a lawyer.
But that didn’t explain why his brother would have gone to such extremes to hide his identity. For the time being, he could only guess. In any event, Mark’s motive was irrelevant. He needed to get rid of this impostor as soon as possible.
Ben glanced up and down the street. No sign of any suspicious activity. On the other side of Main Street, several horses were tethered along the curb. A few people milled around the stores and restaurants, but none gave them more than passing attention. Still, Ben had no intention of walking anywhere near the town square.
As Mark followed him, he thought about the events leading up to the robbery. He recalled how Mary had given him her heart. She believed in him even when he wasn’t sure whether he deserved it. What was it she once said to me? “You may be the best man in the world, but sometimes you act like an idiot.” Maybe she was right.
If he ever got married again, he vowed to find a woman who was worthy of him. This time, he wouldn’t settle for second best. But first, he had to clear himself of the crime and prove his innocence. Then maybe he could think about love.
***
“Where will you begin looking?” asked Mark. “Who else besides us suspects the sheriff of stealing the money?”
“We know someone stole it,” answered Ben. “And the person responsible for that theft was wearing our clothes.”
“So, whoever robbed us must be here in town.”
“Precisely.”
Mark looked at him skeptically. “Are you certain you won’t change your mind and claim responsibility?”
“Absolutely not,” declared Ben. “I never took part in the robbery and neither did anyone else.”
“Okay.” Mark frowned. “Well, let’s start by going back to the jailhouse where we were held, prisoner. We can ask the guards to check on Sheriff Barnes. If nothing turns up, then I suppose we’ll have to go over to the saloon and interrogate everyone inside.”
“Sounds good. Let’s do it.”
When they reached the jail, Ben pointed toward a large wagon parked next to the building. “There should be a lantern hanging from the front porch. Take a quick look around the area while I ring the bell.”
“Why don’t you go ahead?” suggested Mark. “It might be quicker for me to search alone.”
“No, wait! Wait!” The words rushed out of Mark’s mouth before he realized what he was saying. His hand shook nervously as he pressed the bell repeatedly. “Come on, come on, come ooooon—”
After five rings, the door opened and a young boy peeked through the opening.
“Sheriff, it’s me, Mark. Can you please let him out?”
He heard the sound of footsteps approaching and then the door flew open. Two men grabbed Mark by the arms and dragged him outside. One of the men pushed his face against the wall and forced his hands behind his back.
“What are you doing?” Mark cried out indignantly. “Let me go! You’ve made a terrible mistake. Don’t you realize who I am? I’m Ben Cartwright.”
“Shut up!” barked the deputy, shoving his finger in Mark’s ear. “This is my job, and I’m not letting you interfere.”
The two deputies pulled Mark across the dirt yard. Ben ran forward to try to stop them, but he quickly stepped aside when he saw the sheriff coming their way.
Barnes wore his customary black suit and hat. He looked much younger than the last time Ben had seen him. Now he appeared exhausted, pale-faced, and haggard. A deep scar marred one side of his chin.
“Sheriff,” Ben called out. “Don’t hurt him.”
“Get away from him, Cartwright,” ordered the sheriff. “Or you’ll regret it.”
A couple of men approached the sheriff carrying a heavy wooden beam. They lifted the board high above their heads so that both ends touched the ground. As if hypnotized, they walked backward, bringing it closer to the shack.
With each step, the board raised higher and higher until finally, it slammed into the door with a loud bang. The entire structure rocked slightly, causing the hinges to groan loudly.
Barnes stared at the damage done to the door, shaking his head sadly. “That was a beautiful old door. It’s probably irreplaceable now.”
“How long has this been going on?” demanded Ben. “Have you been using your prisoners as slaves?”
“Yes!” replied Barnes, angrily. “They’re just working stiffs. There’s no reason for them to get special treatment.”
“Then why didn’t you free them? Why keep them locked up?”
“Because there’s something wrong with you, Cartwright. You seem to enjoy torturing people.”
“I only want justice for my wife.”
“Justice for whom?”
“Mary.”
“Your wife died months ago.”
Ben looked down. Mary’s death still seemed unreal. “Is there anything else you’d like to say, Sheriff? Because I can assure you, whatever it is, I’ll listen.”
Barnes glanced at Mark, who stood motionless beside him. “You should leave right now, Cartwright. Before I lock you up again.”
“Before you do, perhaps you could explain why you haven’t released those four men from custody. Who were they?”
“Ah, yes, those four men.”
Barnes turned abruptly to stare at Mark. “You know exactly who they are—the men responsible for the theft.”
“I suspected the man who robbed us of our money was one of the men you arrested.”
“Of course, of course. Well, maybe he wasn’t guilty after all, but either way, these other three were the ones who stole the money from you. And you know it, too. Otherwise, why would you have taken part in the robbery yourself?”
“I told you I didn’t take any part in it.”
“We’ll see about that later. First, you must pay for the damages caused by the raid on your home. Then you can tell us whether or not you’re involved in the theft of the gold.”
“Gold?”
“You heard me.” Barnes pointed toward the wagon. “Take your money and start walking.”
“I can’t believe this is happening.”
Mark felt dizzy and sick. “My God, what are we supposed to do now? We can’t afford to replace the door and pay for the repairs to the roof.”
“There’s nothing to worry about. Let me handle things.” Ben took a deep breath, steadying himself. “We’ll make the best of it. Maybe we won’t be able to live here anymore, but we don’t need to stay here. We’ll move somewhere else.”
“Where will you go?” asked Mark.
“Back west. Back where I belong. To California. I have family there.”
“California? But we haven’t even left yet.”
“It doesn’t matter. We’ll travel first class, staying wherever we want to stay. Wherever we feel comfortable.”
“But—”
“Please, Mark. Don’t argue with me.”
As soon as Ben started walking back to the wagon, Mark hurried after him. The wagon bumped over the rough terrain. It was hard to control the horse, especially since it seemed to tire easily. In fact, it became difficult to ride, and eventually, Mark had to jump off the back. After the horse had trotted ahead for a short distance, he stopped to rest under a shade tree.
He watched Ben pull out a leather satchel from his saddlebag. He removed a small baggie filled with coins. When Ben reached into the satchel again, Mark saw another baggie, then another, then a third. Ben continued taking out bags until he held two dozen bags containing more than a hundred dollars apiece.
“What are you doing?” whispered Mark.
“Trying to buy some time.”
“Buying time?”
“The sooner we reach the town, the better.”
“Why did you stop?”
“Let’s wait till we get closer before we try to hide the money.”
When Ben returned to the wagon, he climbed inside while Mark stayed outside. A few minutes passed when suddenly the sheriff appeared behind the wagon.
“Cartwright! What are you doing?”
Ben jumped from the wagon, holding the satchels in front of him. “I’m trying to make peace between you and your prisoner.”
“Don’t give me that bull. How dare you walk around loose while I’ve got you confined to your jail cell?”
“Sheriff, I’m innocent.”
“How do you figure?”
“That’s enough,” said Ben. “Both of you stop arguing with each other. Can’t you see how ridiculous you look? Just because I happen to have some money hidden away doesn’t mean I committed the crime of stealing from you.”
“Then you admit it!” yelled Barnes. “You did commit the crime.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Then you confess that you’re lying. That means you’re going to spend the rest of your life in prison.”
“Stop threatening my son, or I swear to God, I’ll shoot you dead where you stand.”
Barnes turned abruptly to face Ben. “Now, Cartwright, don’t let me hear you threaten anyone. You might find yourself facing charges of murder if someone gets hurt.”
“If anyone gets killed, it won’t be me.”
“Well, well, so much for peace, huh, Cartwright? Now you come out here and accuse me of murdering the man you kidnapped.”
“Kidnapped? Oh no, Sheriff. No kidnapping. I came upon them alone, and I thought they’d been robbed. They didn’t resist at all, just acted surprised. As far as I know, none of their friends or relatives are missing.”
“They didn’t tell me anything about being robbed.”
“Maybe they weren’t, but you never know. Look, I think we should discuss this quietly. Please put down your gun.”
“And I suppose I could trust you to keep quiet about this, right? Tell me something. Did you actually kill Mr. Simpson?”
“Of course not.”
“Did you beat up on him?”
“Yes.”
“Was it necessary to do such a thing?”
“Look, why are you asking these questions? If you’re looking for answers, ask the witnesses who were with us today. Ask the people at the saloon.”
“I already have.”
“So why are you still searching for answers?”
“Because I want to catch the real killer.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to judge, Sheriff.”
“Meaning what? I can’t understand why you would help an outlaw like this, especially since he seems to have taken a fancy to one of our girls.”
Mark looked at Ben with wide eyes, realizing that he had been caught red-handed by the law. He felt trapped and helpless.
“You don’t need to say a word, Mark.” Ben pulled Mark close to whisper in his ear. “Just pretend you don’t know me. Don’t talk unless you absolutely have to. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Then I’ll go along with the sheriff. But remember, I am innocent.”
“I believe you.”
After the sheriff left, Ben took out his watch and checked the time. It wasn’t quite noon yet. By now, he should have known whether Tom was telling the truth about having seen the kidnapper.
“It looks like you made a good choice,” Ben told Mark.
“Which way do we head next?” asked Mark.
“North. We’ll stay off the main road so we won’t be spotted easily.”
A short time later, the wagon rolled through a gate in a fence and entered a large field. The grassy plains stretched in every direction. In the distance, Ben saw a small herd of cattle grazing peacefully.
“This is the only place where we can cross without getting stopped by guards,” said Ben.
“Where do you plan to cross?”
“The river.”
“What river?”
“Why, the Colorado River. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, nothing, sir. Maybe I misunderstood.”
“We’ll use this bridge first. Once we get past this area, there will be fewer places to hide. And once we reach the other side, we’ll lose any hope of ever making it back to the Ponderosa alive. So it’s best that we stick together.”
“All right, then.”
As the wagon crossed over the wooden bridge, the wheels sunk into the soft ground. After a few minutes of slow progress, the horses stepped onto firm land again. The wagon continued northward until they reached another bridge. This one led to a larger town. A sign above the entrance read: “Newport, Arizona.”
“Is that where we’re headed?” asked Mark.
“No, Newport is too big. We’ll probably end up staying the night here, and tomorrow we’ll make for San Bernardino.”
“San Bernardino sounds familiar. Is that the same town as Lassen County, California?”
“That’s right. That’s where we live.”
“How long ago did you leave?”
“Three months ago.”
“Have you seen your family since?”
Ben shook his head. “Not even a letter.”
“But you’ve talked to them on the phone?”
“Sometimes.”
“When was the last time you spoke to them?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“Do they know how you got here?”
“Probably. I haven’t heard from them, either. They must suspect that I’m dead.”
“Do you really think so? How could they possibly know?”
“I don’t know. I guess they might have gotten a letter from my brother, who lives near Fort Sumner.”
“Well, I’m glad you called me instead of going home to find out. You might have found yourself in some trouble if you went back.”
“Thanks for helping me. You saved me from a lot of grief.”
“I couldn’t stand seeing you thrown into jail. Not after all we’ve been through. Let’s just hope that none of the townsfolk spot us or else things will turn ugly. For instance, someone might decide to rob us, or worse yet, lynch us.”
“Lynch?”
“Yes. When someone gets killed unjustly, people sometimes take justice into their own hands and hang him from a tree. Usually, the victim is an outsider who doesn’t belong around here. People get so fed up with him that they feel justified in taking matters into their own hands. They usually throw the body down a well. It makes me sick when I see such barbaric behavior.”
“So, you wouldn’t let anything happen to me, sir?”
“Of course not. No matter what happens, I’ll protect you. I owe you more than enough already.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
The End