“Dismount and stand by your horses,” Sherman ordered and, as one, the sixteen men swung down from the saddle. They stepped up to the front of their horse and held it by the halter. As Sherman went inside the sheriff’s office, several of the townspeople moved closer to the body of men.
“Hey!” someone called out to them. “What are you fellas doing here?”
Not one man answered.
“Are you chasin’ somebody?”
Like the first question, this one went unacknowledged.
“How come there won’t none of you answer?”
“They are like the army, George,” on of the other townspeople explained. “They are standin’ in formation, and that means they can’t talk or look around.”
“That don’t make no sense,” George said.
“That’s because you have never been in the army. I have, and I know what it’s like when you are standin’ in formation.”
“I just want to know what they are doin’ here,” George said. “I mean, ever’ one knows what these fellas are like. Whenever they get on somebody’s trail, there is most always shootin’.”
Like the others in town, Marshal Sparks had seen the posse arrive and he was now standing just inside his office, drinking coffee and looking through his front window as the riders halted in front of the building. He knew about the Idaho Auxiliary Peace Officers’ Posse, and he knew about its leader. He watched Clay Sherman dismount, order his men to stand by their horses, then come in. One of the other men came in with him.
Sherman pushed the door open and looked around. Because Marshal Sparks was standing over to one side by the window, and because the door opened toward him, temporarily blocking him from view, Sherman didn’t see him when he first came in.
“Anyone in here?” Sherman called loudly.
“I’m over here,” Marshal Sparks said from the front window. In contrast to Sherman’s shout, Marshal Sparks response was so quiet as to be conversational.
“Marshal, I’m—”
“Clay Sherman,” Sparks interrupted. “I know who you are, Mr. Sherman.”
“If you know who I am, then you know that I am more properly addressed as Colonel Sherman.”
“What can I do for you, Colonel Sherman?” Sparks asked, emphasizing the word colonel to show a little irritation at being told how to address his arrogant visitor.
“Yes, well, it isn’t what you can do for me, Marshal. It is what I, and my men, are going to do for you.”
“You are going to do something for me? I don’t recall asking for any outside support in running my town.”
“We don’t always have to be asked. Often when there is a clear and unaddressed violation of the law, we will respond for the good of the whole,” Sherman replied.
“So, what brings you here?”
“Marshal Sparks, it has come to the attention of Governor Neil that you have been—let us say, lax—in your enforcement of a very important territorial law. We have been sent here to Owyhee County to enforce that law.”
“I don’t know of any law I’m not enforcing. What law would that be?” Marshal Sparks asked, surprised by the announcement.
“What law it is, is no longer of your concern,” Sherman said. “As you have not worried about it before, there is no need for you to worry about it now. Like I said, we will take care of it for you. But you need not worry too much about it. The fact that we will be enforcing this law will not reflect adversely on you. Also, we will not interfere with your normal performance of duty. You just go on about your normal business and pay no mind to us.”
“I should at least know what law you are talking about.”
“How many rooms does the hotel have?”
“I beg your pardon?” Sparks asked, unable to follow the abrupt change of subject.
“The hotel, Marshal. How many rooms does it have? I must find quarters for my men. I shall require nine rooms, eight for my men, they can double up, and one for myself.”
“Oh, that won’t be possible. The hotel only has ten rooms and at least four of them are permanently occupied.”
“Thank you,” Sherman replied.
“Marshal, I got a question I want to ask you,” the man who had come in with Sherman said. He had been silent until this moment.
“What is the question?” Marshal Sparks replied.
“How come it is, that you didn’t do anything about the man who murdered Poke Terrell?”
“Who are you?” Marshal Sparks asked.
“Marshal, this Lieutenant Luke Scraggs. He is my second in command,” Sherman said.
“Why didn’t anyone do anything about the man who murdered Poke Terrell?” Scraggs asked a second time.
“Mr. Scraggs,” Marshal Sparks started.
“It’s Lieutenant Scraggs,” Scraggs replied.
“We did do something about it, Scraggs,” Marshal Sparks said, purposely omitting the use of the word lieutenant. “The judge conducted a hearing and determined that the shooting that took Terrell’s life was justifiable. Matt Jensen was cleared of any wrongdoing. Everyone who was in the saloon at the time testified that Poke Terrell drew first. In fact, Terrell killed a young woman, and if he had not been killed himself, I have no doubt but that he would have been indicted by the hearing, tried, found guilty, and hung. Does that answer your question?”
“I heard it was a whore he kilt,” Scraggs said.
“Like I said, he killed a young woman.”
“If you see this man, Matt Jensen, you might tell him that he is going to have to answer to me for killing my friend,” Scraggs said.
“You aren’t making a threat, are you, Scraggs?” Marshal Sparks asked.
“You must excuse Lieutenant Scraggs, Marshal,” Sherman said. “He and Poke Terrell were particularly good friends.”
“Yeah,” Marshal Sparks said. “I can see how he must be just all broken up inside, what with Terrell being such a nice fellow and all.”
“Marshal, I get the impression that you don’t much approve of us,” Sherman said.
“That’s pretty observant of you, Colonel Sherman.” Again, Marshal Sparks emphasized the word colonel.
“I must say, that’s rather disappointing. Don’t you have respect for your fellow lawmen?”
“For fellow lawmen? Yes, I respect other lawmen. But I don’t consider you and your group to be lawmen,” Marshal Sparks said. “You are in this for yourselves.”
“You don’t understand, Marshal. Unlike you, we do not have our salary paid by the federal, territorial, or local government. That means that every case we undertake must pay for itself,” Sherman said. “You call that self-serving, I call it practical. At any rate we are both doing the same thing, and that is enforcing the law. So, if we can’t respect each other while we are here, we can at least stay out of each other’s way.”
“As long as you don’t break any law while enforcing the law, you’ll have no problem with me,” Marshal Sparks said. “But break any of my laws, and I’ll be down on you like a duck on a June bug.”
“Break any of your laws, Marshal? Interesting. I would have thought they would be town or county laws.”
“Town and county laws are my laws,” Marshal Sparks said.
“I see.” Sherman stared at Marshal Sparks for a few seconds, then he turned to Scraggs. “Come, Lieutenant,” he said. “We need to get quarters for our men.”
Sherman and Scraggs left the sheriff’s office, and once again the town was treated to the sight of a well-disciplined body of men riding as one as they moved down the street from the sheriff’s office to the Del Rey Hotel.
“Dismount. Horse holders, post,” he said. “The rest, with me.”
Sherman and every one of his men except for four who remained outside to hold the horses tramped into the hotel lobby.
“Yes, sir what can I—oh my,” the hotel clerk said, looking up and seeing so many armed men, all of whom were dressed just alike. “What is going on?”