The Trip To Judgement

Chapter 9

A loud knock at the door sent Ryan through the sleeping half of the car to answer and he took the tray of food for the guards and shut the door, blocking Stanley's view; gossip was something he wanted to avoid.

"We're gonna eat in the other room." Jigger announced taking the tray and walking past Ryan to the door to the sleeping section.

"Eat where you like, just keep a good eye on him." Ryan glanced at Otis. "And make sure there's one spoon, one fork, a plate and a tin cup along with the tray when he's done." He waited until the guards left and then followed them out.

Ryan returned to the general dining car and was immediately assailed by his dinner companions.

"I want an answer on this now, Marshal. As advocate for the victims in this case, I have a right to present their concerns in any way I see fit."

"Mister Howden, I told you once and I'll tell you once again. The time for all your lobbyin' is when we are in court in Judgement—not on this train."

"Suppose the Judge doesn't allow for the victims to make claims in court, then what?"

"I can't answer that, sir. That's somethin' you need to take up with the Judge... but I doubt he'd take kindly to bein' pestered during this trip."

"I have to say," Abner chimed in, "as the county representative I think you should be a little more amenable to getting as many things right before the hanging as you can. After all, the man butchered how many... eight people?"

"Mister Wentworth, you are along as an official witness to an execution, nuthin' more and for me getting' things right, I'm the guy who caught Otis Devlin remember? Can't do much more right than that."

"Bravo, Marshal!" Cybil Marsh clapped her hands together lightly and leaned across the aisle. "I told you there was newsworthy things about you."

Ryan noticed that she was sitting with Clifford Williams and that she had her notebook open and brimming with notes. Williams was probably still advocating some kind of law suite against the railway and figured an ally in the press might just turn the trick. He thought he should introduce him to Howden; they both seemed to be sniffing down the money trail. "That isn't news, ma'am, your paper already covered that."

"Not with my perspective, Marshal." Cybil sat back and began jotting in her book.

"I still think the victims should be able to speak with the prisoner outside the legal trappings of the court." Howden was beating his drum again and Ryan was feeling his jaw clench. "Maybe the man wants to apologize, could go a long way in bringing closure for these folks."

Ryan pushed back his chair, regretting his wasted meal and stood, leaning on his knuckles. "There will be no contact with the prisoner by any of the passengers and as far as closure goes, you should consider that for your pesky request."

"Oooh!" Cybil scribbled furiously, a wide smile lighting her face as Ryan strode down to the exit and out to the platform in between cars.

"A lawman's life is not a happy one, eh, Ryan?" Judge Tumbler leaned his ample girth on the swaying gate between the cars, puffing on a monstrous cigar, the blooms of thick smoke wisped about in the wind. The fugitive sun was barely burning the top of the hills beyond the train, being pressed down by the blackening sky, as it slowly departed for the night. Long shadows ran down the slope toward the train like long, grasping fingers.

"Must be a little like your own, Judge."

"Nope, not really. I just pass Judgement, you have to carry it out." His eyes twinkled behind the cloud of smoke. "'Cept of course when we hang that monster, then there's a hangman to do the dirty deed."

Ryan looked at him. "I thought I heard somewhere you didn't condone hangin'?"

"Don't. But then we ain't in court yet and he ain't hung." Another puff of smoke.

"Sentenced has been passed, Judge."

"That's the beauty of the law, Marshal, there's always a chance of a loophole opening up or a second thought to massage."

"Why would you want an animal like Devlin not to hang? In prison he would be a constant threat to everyone with nuthin' to lose."

"That's where we disagree, son. I believe knowing there's no hope would break a man down; crush his spirit and make him miserable for all time."

"Otis Devlin would never break; he has no spirit to crush and is chief goal is to make as many others as miserable as he can. I'd be careful where you apply your theories, Judge."

The two men rode silently for some time, watching the light vanish and the night wrap its coal black cloak around the landscape. They could see that there was a wind blowing beyond the draft of the train and both men unconsciously pulled their collars closer.

"You know about Howden tryin' to get compensation for the victims?" Ryan thought he'd try again with a different tack.

"Yep."

"Think he's got a case?"

"Nope." Another billow of smoke. "But then I'm not the Judgement town council. Maybe they'll kick through with some money. Sure as hell ain't gonna get anything from Devlin." They shared a bitter laugh.

The door opened and Jonas Howe came out, tipping his hat to the two men. "Mind if I stand a minute or two here, like to watch end of day. Used to do it a lot with my sister."

"He's gonna pay, Mister Howe." Ryan offered as a balm to the man's melancholy.

"I 'spect he will. Won't change things though."

"No, it won't. But other folks like yourself won't have to worry about Otis Devlin." He let his eyes drift to the judge.

"World's full of Otis Devlins, Marshal. Folks will always have someone to worry about." Jonas raised his chin and aimed it at the last tinge of light disappearing behind the low hills.

"You okay, Mister Howe? I mean you need to talk or anything?"

Jonas turned and studied Ryan. "I appreciate that, Marshal, I really do. But no, I'm fine. Just an old man thinkin' on better times." He tipped his hat again, bade them good night and went into the sleeping car.

"Nice fella," Ryan said sincerely, leaning on the safety gate.

"The only one not scrabblin' for a settlement too." The Judge replied. He blew out another cloud and studied the tip of his cigar. "Damn, this is a fine smoke. You should try one, Marshal."

"I try to keep my vices to a simple few, Judge." The door opened and Ryan bit his lip.

"Oooh man talk! I just love man talk. And about vices too. Please, Marshal, don't stop now." Cybil closed the door and flashed the Judge a wicked grin.

"I figured you might have had enough of that with your dinner companion." Ryan said meanly.

"Nasty. This man is plain nasty, Judge Tumbler."

"Should be a clue to keep your distance then, ma'am." The Judge replied with a flat delivery.

"Aaah, two to one. Okay, maybe another time." Cybil lifted her skirt and crossed the platform to the sleeping car.

Judge Tumbler took one last draw on his cigar and snapped it into the night, glimpsing just a few sparks as it bounced off the side of the train. "That one'll give some poor fella a lifetime of bother I think. Well, not much to entertain a man on this train. Guess I'll turn in."

"I wonder." Ryan chuckled. "I better check on Devlin. See you, Judge."