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Short Stories & Tall Tales
Justice
By Christopher Scott
The floor dropped out from under Corbin Jeffries feet as the trap door swung free. Like the gaping mouth of hell, it opened fast and wide for Corbin Jeffries, and he obliged it without a moment’s hesitation. He dropped like a fat sack of rocks. It was a short free fall that ended quite abruptly as he hit the end of the slackened rope. His boots continued their acute descent, hitting the ground with a loud thud and a cloud of dust. It happened real fast, and for all but a slight sway of his lifeless corpse, Corbin Jeffries didn’t move. He just hung there, in his dirty, worn out socks.
The women who had come to watch the spectacle touched their fingers to their pursed lips as they turned their heads from the ghastly sight while the men adjusted their hats and shifted their stance to protect their wives from the temptation of a second look. The crowd of curious onlookers, satisfied that justice had been served, silently went their separate ways.
The local undertaker wasted little time in cutting the hanged man down. He was proud to have the body of Corbin Jeffries in his possession; so proud in fact, he propped it up in an open coffin and put it on display in front of his place of business for the rest of the day. Quite a few people wandered by to see the corpse up close. Some spat on it while others cursed it, but most were only curious to see if it was really true. That the meanest and badest outlaw in all of New Mexico had finally been sent to hell with a rope around his neck.
The mornings’ hanging was the talk of the town. Most folks were happy to be rid of the likes of Corbin Jeffries. But even so, there was one who thought only of revenge.
After the hangin’, Sheriff Burley made his way back to his office. He had a feeling Corbin’s brother would not sit idly by and let justice have its day and as sure as the sun sets in the West, revenge would soon be heading his way.
The sheriff had seen Mathew Jeffries mingling with the crowd of onlookers this morning and he fully expected trouble then, but to his surprise, and his relief, it didn’t show itself. But the lack of a confrontation had put Sheriff Burley on edge. He knew it was coming, he just didn’t know where, or when. As he stepped into his office, the sight of Corbin’s partner, Silas Penny, sitting quietly on his cot gave him little comfort.
“And just what’s the matter with you Silas?” taunted the sheriff. "You don’t seem to be your talkative self this morning. Cat got your tongue? I seen you watching through the bars. How do you like the way we serve up justice in this town? That’s right, we serve it up at the end of a rope and tomorrow’s your turn to step up to the table. I’ll make darn sure the undertaker props you up right along side your compadre’ and by God, I’ll spit on you myself.”
Silas Penny looked up and locked eyes with the sheriff. He quivered his upper lip as he let out a menacing snarl. The few teeth he had left in his mouth were dirty and rotten. A weeks growth of graying whiskers only added to the look of a caged animal. Silas had been wearing the same clothes for as long as he had been in custody. He was beginning to stink and the sheriff was anxious to get him out of the building.
“You don’t scare me none," remarked Sheriff Burley. “You’re nothing more than a worthless piece of rotting meat. The sooner I put you out of your misery, the sooner the maggots can have their way with you.”
Silas lurched toward the bars. “I’ll cut yer’ heart out and feed it to the dogs.”
“Is that a threat? You just don’t get it, do you? Your menacing days are over.
Tomorrow you’ll be swingin’ from the end of a rope and we’ll all give up a rousing cheer cuz’ there ain’t nobody around these parts that wants to have you filling your lungs with another breath of their good air. But don’t feel too rejected Silas, I’m sure Lucifer himself will be glad to have you.”
Silas sat back down. “Well if you’re so all fired anxious to get rid of me, why didn’t you hang me today alongside Corbin?”
“If I had my way about it, I would have done just that. In fact, if I had my way about it, there wouldn’t even have been a trial. I would have hung you from the lowest branch of the nearest tree, but then… that wouldn’t have been very lawful of me now, would it.” The sheriff sat down at his desk. “So why was Matthew Jeffries in town today?” he asked.
Silas looked up with a glare sharp enough to cut a man in two, and the evil grin that accompanied it only added to the tension. He stared at the sheriff for a time before he spoke. In a low whisper, he replied. “To cut yer heart out, what else.” He laughed out loud and lay down on the cot.
Tomorrow won’t come soon enough, thought the sheriff. “So if he’s looking for revenge, why didn’t he try to do something before we hung his brother?”
Silas folded his arms back behind his head and propped it up some. “What do you mean we? You hung him. He’s only after you. He didn’t want to stop the hanging. Mathew hated his brother. He was glad to see him go. But…he was his brother after all, and as far as he’s concerned, his death needs to be avenged. I only hope I’m around to see it. Why didn’t you arrest him? I could have used the company.”
“Guilt by association won’t hold up in court," replied the sheriff. “He may have a reputation but he hasn’t committed any crime that I’m aware of.”
“At least not yet," laughed Silas. “I’d be watching my back if I were you. I hope you sleep well tonight.”
This wasn’t the first time Sheriff Burley had heard talk like that. He didn’t let the idle threat bother him. “I’m obliged to bring you breakfast tomorrow, what do you want?”
“Don’t bother," replied Silas. “I won’t be here to eat it.”
“That’s what they all say," retorted the sheriff as he got up from his desk and walked back outside. He rolled a quirley and lit it up, inhaled deeply and blew the smoke out into the street. From where he stood he could see the undertakers shop. Corbin Jeffries corpse was still on display out front, but the spectacle was beginning to wear thin. Most anybody who wanted to see the corpse had already done so, plus, the gathering flies gave testament to the fact that the heat of the day was surely taking it’s toll on the body, so the Sheriff decided it was time to tell the undertaker to put a lid on the coffin and get it into the ground.
As he stepped out into the street, a lone figure of a man crouched low on the roof behind the false front of the Dry Goods store down the street. With rifle in hand he took careful aim in the direction of the sheriff. A shot rang out. The bullet hit the ground right in front of the Sheriff close enough to spray dirt all over his boots. He dove for the cover of a nearby water trough and rolled up against it just as two more shots rang out showering him with cool water from the trough. Whoever was doing the shooting was either a lousy shot, or giving him something to think about.
Sheriff Burley kept low until he finally got up the nerve to sprint for better cover. Not another shot was fired and nobody, except for maybe the corpse of Corbin Jeffries had seen a thing, but then, he wasn’t about to talk.
The sheriff and one of his Deputies carefully searched the area but came up empty. The shots had been a warning, but for what, Sheriff Burley wasn’t exactly sure.
Later that evening he paid a visit to the “Golden Canary”. The saloon wasn’t much more than a dimly lit room with a small stage at one end. It stood empty. “I guess the bird isn’t singing tonight,” he thought to himself. The “Bird” was a singer named Angelina, a real beauty with a voice as sweet as honey. She put on a show for the boys several nights a week. Tonight was not one of those nights. The sheriff found his way to a small table where Mathew Jeffries sat alone, fumbling with a deck of cards. He grabbed up a chair and invited himself to take a seat at the table.
“Where were you this afternoon," demanded the sheriff.
“I was home, workin’ my cattle, why do you want to know?” questioned Mathew.
“Someone took a shot at me this afternoon and I hear you’re keen on getting the man who hung your brother this morning, and as we both know, that would be me.”
“I got no quarrel with you sheriff, My brother was worthless. Believe me, he got what he had coming to him. Take my word for it there was no love lost between the two of us. If someone’s taking shot’s at you, it must be for a reason, but I ain’t the one doin’ the shootin’.”
The sheriff got to his feet and held the broad shadow of his six-foot frame over Mathew Jeffries. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, for now. But if I find out different”…He didn’t finish the sentence but turned and headed for the door. Jeffries watched him leave and went back to his cards.
The sheriff decided he would let it go for now. He called it a night and headed for home. He had another big day tomorrow. He was sending Silas Penny to hell.
The following morning Sheriff Burley stepped into his office carrying a tray of hot food. He had done his duty and stopped off at the town’s café and picked up a nice hot breakfast of steak and eggs and biscuits and gravy for Silas. As he walked up to the cell he was taken completely by surprise as Silas pulled a gun from behind his back and pointed it at the sheriff. “I told you I wouldn’t be here for breakfast, didn’t I?”
Before Sheriff Burley could answer, he felt the stinging pain of a pistol butt to the back of his head just before everything went black. Matthew Jeffries had been hiding behind the front door. He grabbed the cell door keys from the sheriff as he lay on the floor.
“That was a waste of a good lookin’ steak,” remarked Silas, as he stared down at the sheriff and his breakfast sprawled out across the floor. Mathew unlocked the cell door for Silas and as soon as Silas stepped out, he caught the back of Mathew’s head with the butt of his pistol and shoved him into the cell as he went down onto the floor.
“Sorry Mathew, but I know you too well and I can guess your plan. You cut me loose and follow me out into the desert. When we’re far enough out, you shoot me and haul me back into town draped over my saddle. I don’t expect you’ll be collecting any reward off me today.” Silas closed the cell door.
Not only was he hungry, Silas never could pass up a good steak and he wasn’t about to start now. He picked up the steak and one of the biscuits from off the floor and slipped out the back door where he found two waiting horses. He mounted up and headed north.
Silas had little willpower and that big juicy steak was calling his name. He took a man sized bite and started chewing. Unfortunately, he tried to swallow the big chunk of meat way too soon. It got stuck in his throat and he began to choke. The piece of meat had cut off his air supply and the harder he tried to dislodge it, the more stubborn it became. He dismounted his horse and dropped to his knees frantically trying to remove the obstruction until his lungs felt as if they would burst.
His lifeless body was soon discovered, lying in the dirt with his hands clutched around his throat as if he had strangled himself. The steak was never discovered. More than likely it was carried off by some stray dog.
To this day, as a warning to all who enter the jail of Sheriff Ben Burley, the tale of Silas Penny and the righteous hand of judgment is made known.
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