Revenge

By Stuart Haussler

Revenge means to inflict harm or injury in return for a wrong, imagined or real. We have all at one time or another felt this emotion and experienced the desire to resolve the hurt we have suffered no matter how great or minor the hurt.

This novel depicts a wrong, of unimaginable proportions, inflicted against an officer of the laws wife and his subsequent search for revenge.

How, in this case, such a satisfactory resolution is extracted from the reality of life is the essence of the novel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Feb 6, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481710572

Stuart Haussler

Stuart Haussler has been writing Western and Military novels for twenty years. He brings to his novels, based on his eighty years, knowledge acquired as a Rancher, Doctor, Teacher and Naval/Marine Officer. So as to entertain, Sedition: The Mother of Treason is an intentional fabrication of the mind, based on imagination, experience, dedication, concern for and a total love of his country. Tid-bits of today's reality innoculate the story with the fibers of truth by insinuation.

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© 2013 by Stuart Haussler. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 02/04/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-1056-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-1057-2 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter XI

Chapter XII

CHAPTER I

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Chief United States Marshal Wallace T. Thornton, on approaching a large formidable gate, slowed down his horse, Teechen. When they had come to a halt, the marshal threw his right leg over the saddle horn so he could rub his aching right thigh. As he rubbed, he looked up at the sign over the gate and read aloud, Great Notch Asylum. Good Lord, I never thought we’d have to bring Marshal Porter Candfield here, Teechen . . . but we did, and thank God we did, for now he’s back on his feet and can go home and back to work.

The marshal slid down from the horse and made his way to a bench by the main gate. He pulled the necessary fixings out of his pocket and rolled a cigarette, lit it, and holding it in the corner of his mouth, moved back to his horse. Reaching up, he ran his hand through the saddle bag and on finding what he wanted, twisted out a bottle of sour mash whiskey, pulled out the cork, removed the cigarette from his mouth, and took a long drink from the bottle. When satisfied, he re-corked the bottle and replaced it in the saddle bag as he put the cigarette back in his mouth and muttered, Needed both . . . that was a long ride and I’ve been worried about Porter.

He sat back on the bench, enjoying his cigarette and as he reached up to pull the collar of his coat tighter around his neck a voice, seemingly out of nowhere, said, It’s not the weather that gives one the feelin` of being cold . . . it’s this God forbidden place.

The marshal was instantly on his feet and as he turned to face the voice his hand slid through the slit in the side of his great coat to grasp the handle of his six-gun. The holster had a swivel so he could point the gun at whom he was facing, and he said authoritatively, And . . . jus` who might you be?

Seeing the badge on his coat, the man replied, Why, easy now, Marshal, I’m Rusty Little. I’m an inmate here but not bad enough they won’t let me garden each and every day. Snow or no snow . . . who might you be?

Marshal Thornton smiled, released his hand from the gun and spat out sharply so as to capture his inquisitor’s attention and distract him at the same time, I’m United States Marshal W. T. Thornton. Also, for them I like, I can go by . . . Wally. I’ve come for my friend, Marshal Porter Candfield

Know im`, know im` well, what a man. He’s been down in the dumps better part of three years. In fact, he jus` really came around all the way a week ago.

I know. That’s why I’m here.

How’d he ever get here?

"He was the marshal in Chadron, Nebraska and covered over to Casper, Wyoming. He was married, no youngins`. His wife was gunned down . . . killed.

He was shot in the head and left for dead. Doc Allele in Alliance kept him going and when he couldn’t get over his wife’s death it was decided he should come here for help. This place has a good reputation for helpin` them that have what they call depression. Also, he couldn’t see too well from the head wound. I know your Doctor Jim Mc Grevy, he’s helped a lot of people over the years for me with the same problem as Porter had. So I brought Porter up here by train."

That was one long ride, Marshal from Alliance, Nebraska to Great Notch, New York.

It was, but the railroad helped us, I put the word out. They gave us a private car and a man to help me. Sometimes it pays to know people in high places. The struggle was worth it cause now, like I said, he’s goin` home. I’ve had my doubts he’d make it but he has. He loved that woman of his a heap.

Goin` back by train?

No, Jim, Doc Mc Grevy said Porter needs time, on the trail, back in a saddle. I guess he’s lost cognitive skills when it comes to horses.

Cognitive?

Knowin` how to treat, ride and other stuff ya` need to know about horses.

That’s gonna` be a long ride, Marshal. He’s as skinny as a rail and not too sure of his footin`.

We’ll take our time. We have lots of it.

How many miles do you reckon it is . . . to where you’re goin`?

Kansas City is the better part of one thousand miles. It’ll take over a month but when he’s gotten back his strength and skills, we’ll get on a train for the final leg to Chadron. Also, we’ll do a lot of talkin`along the way. Maybe I can help him about losin` his wife.

He got a horse?

Yup! I brought him with Teechen and me. This here horse, with me, is Teechen. Tied on is Porter’s horse Stallion, and you can see he’s a beauty. All this time, they’ve kept him in town at the livery, for the day Marshal Candfield could leave for home.

One more question, Marshal, who killed the marshal’s wife and shot ’um both?

That we need to find out and in time we will. I best be gettin` to the hospital. Good to have talked with ya`. You’ve got a way about ya` that I like.

Rusty smiled at what he heard and suggested, Go in the front door and ask for the doc. Marshal Candfield is in his quarters, and good luck to ya`, Marshal Thornton.

Marshal Thornton remounted Teechen and with Stallion in tow, rode to the front of the foreboding building and once again slid down to tie Teechen and Stallion to a hitching rail. He turned, and was immediately face to face with Doc Mc Grevy who said, Welcome, Marshal Thornton, welcome. I been, as Porter would say, awaitin` for ya` these last two days. You’re Marshal Porter is improving everyday. I was down in the dumps for awhile ’cause he just couldn’t stop the festering about Amber’s death. Being a marshal and all, seeing what he’s seen and been a part of, I was betting that experience would help get him out of the slump he was in Well, it didn’t seem to help and then suddenly he could say her name and talk about her. Medically, all I can say is that there’s a necessary time for healing in everyone and as doctors we can’t tell how much time that will take, whether it’s for physical or mental wounds. A wound is a wound and we’re all different, in fact, no two of us are the same. He’s weak but his strength is improving ’cause he’s working on it. By the time you get back home he should be back . . . to his old self. However, I don’t think he’ll ever again be the same without his beloved Amber. He and I have had long talks these last few days about Amber and his love for her, and the reasons why he loved her as he did have given me much insight into the love a man can acquire for a woman. This knowledge will help me to help others better, for I have never had it spelled out more clearly than Porter has done. I know that because of the memory of that love Porter will be a new, different and better man, as himself, and as a marshal.

Would seem what you’re sayin`, Doc, is that there’s some good that comes outta`bad things and times.

Exactly, Marshal, and we both know it and have seen it happen. Let’s go in, for I know Porter has a big hankering to see you.

Porter was sitting in the hallway, for he had been watching the two men as they met. When they started toward the front door he ran into the hall. Marshal Thornton stopped when he saw Porter, and looking at him his spirits soared, for he could see the fire was once again in Porter’s eyes, not blank like they were the day he brought him to Great Notch. As they approached to embrace each other tears streamed down their cheeks. Doc turned, so as to wipe away his tears. After which he turned back to suggest, Let’s all go into my office, have a drink and talk about tomorrow and the future.

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The three men talked long into the night before dropping off one-by-one to sleep. The murmuring of voices and the warmth of the sun pouring through the window and the aroma of coffee finally woke Marshal Thornton. He was the last to go to sleep and the last to wake up. He hurriedly climbed out of bed, shaved, dressed and proceeded down to the kitchen.

Doc and Porter were drinking coffee and Doc looked up at Marshal Thornton and offered a cheery, Good morning, Wally! Your marshal here is ready to go, in fact, he’s been ready all-night. We’ll give you some breakfast, for we have eaten. Rusty has the horses saddled so you can be on your way as soon as you’re through. Also, Marshal Charlie Stoner, from over at Carthage, sent the two mules you requested along with all the things you’ll need on the trip. We added some other things you’ll enjoy, like maple syrup and the best jerky you’ll ever get to chew on. Charlie said to tell you he gave you plenty of liniment and wrappings for the horses cannons, he knows you’re a stickler about doing that. The mules he sent are special and can more than keep up with your horses. Charlie also wanted you to know he couldn’t come over to see you ’cause he has to be in court all week.

Charlie knows what we’ll need, he’s done it before for me. Give him my best along with my thanks. Suddenly, Marshal Thornton sensed Porter’s eagerness to be on their way so he hurriedly ate, and when through, as he stood, Rusty walked in and announced, Marshal Thornton, Doc Mc Grevy has given me a clear bill. I was never crazy, sorta` like Marshal Candfield, I was jus` confused about life. I was a sheriff over in Carthage. Got shot up pretty bad like and for some time figured I never get back on my feet and withdrew. Doc here pulled me outta`it. I’m as fit-as-a-fiddle, whatever that means. Right, Doc?

Right, Sheriff Little, fit-as-a-fiddle!

So what I’m sayin`, Marshal Thornton, is could you use me?

The marshal never hesitated, he looked at Doc Mc Grevy and asked, What about Rusty as a Sheriff, and is he, as he says, a stable person?

Rusty smiled when he heard the marshal call him by his first name. Doc Mc Grevy firmly spat out, Marshal, he was a good sheriff, the best, tough and didn’t hesitate to correct wrong when he saw it or heard about it. He was badly wounded in a shoot-out with some no goods. Through his own hard work he’s back to being a stable man in every respect.

Marshal Thornton turned to Rusty and asked, You say you’d like to ride with us?

I sure would, Marshal, if `in you’ll have me.

The marshal never hesitated and replied, Raise your right hand and repeat after me.

The swearing in was short and it was obvious all four men where pleased by what happened and when Marshal Thornton was through, and had pinned the marshals’ badge on Rusty, he simply added, I’m always lookin` for good men. Three on this trip makes more sense. Let’s ride!

When goodbyes had been said, the men rode off and as they did Doc Mc Grevy, looking after them called out, You never know, you just never know but I’ll bet they’ll be some out there that’ll wish these three had never met.

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After several hours of continuous hard riding, with Marshal Thornton in the lead varying their pace from time to time, he knew it was necessary to stop and check the horses and his two marshals. They found a small stream and as they drew up Marshal Thornton called over to Rusty, Rusty, you gather up wood and we’ll make coffee. Porter, you dry off our horses and rub down the cannons with the liniment Marshal Stoner sent. Also, Porter, when rubbin` see if any of the horse have a tenderness anywhere like we always do. Bind the cannons this time and we’ll check `em again later, and by the way, Rusty, what’s your horse’s name and age?

Gambler. I named him that way ’cause he’ll always take a chance when runnin`, he’s a gambler. He’s about five years old. Marshal, I have a question to ask.

What?

I’m not clear in my mind as to whether I’m a deputy United States Marshal or a full marshal.

Marshals Thornton and Candfield both smiled at the question and Marshal Thornton quickly responded with, Rusty, in the marshal service you’re only a deputy marshal when you’ve never had any experience as a lawman. According to Doc, you’ve had plenty of experience and sure as Sam Hill know what law and order is all about. Plus, as an officer of the law you have been in harm’s way many times . . . you’re seasoned and therefore you have been sworn in as a full United States Marshal.

Thank you, Marshal.

Save the thanks, Marshal Little, until you’ve served for awhile. Being a marshal is a lot different than being a sheriff . . . believe me. Taking down a sheriff is one thing but they are really proud of themselves if they can take down a marshal . . . and get away with it . . . which most of the time they don’t get done ’cause we’re a brotherhood. Enough gab, I need that coffee. Jerky anybody?

Cannons were wrapped, coffee drank and jerky consumed and not another word was uttered until Marshal Thornton ordered, Saddle up and let’s be on our way.

In a matter of minutes they were back on the trail. Rusty called over to Marshal Thornton, Any idea where we’ll stay tonight, Marshal?

You bet I do. I trailed back when I brought Porter to Great Notch so’s I know the way when he came home. You’ll have a bed, a feather bed, like you never slept in before and a meal fit for a king. All this will happen at Pascal’s Bed & Food in Three Rivers. Let’s ride, it’s quite away to go!

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The men rode long and hard. It was about an hour past sundown when they finally rode over a small hill outside of Three Rivers. Noting the flickering town lights, Porter exclaimed, I’ve never seen it this dark. I’m sure glad you’ve ridden this way before.

It was just as dark the last time but look ahead, you can see the lights of the town and this road is kept in good condition. What I don’t like is the bone chillin` cut of the wind but we’ll be warm soon enough, Marshal Thornton offered reassuringly.

After riding down what was the main street they made their way to a large house in front of which were two hitching rails with a watering trough in-between and a lighted kerosene lamp on either end. As they dismounted and were tying their lines a voice called out, Marshal, ah`, Marshal ah` Thorn a` ton. How nice a` to a` see. It’s a` bin a` long a` time. You gonna` stay a` the night. Si`o no?

It’s si`, Pascal. We’ve had a long cold ride and I’ve told my fellow marshals about your warm feather beds and food. Second to none . . . I told `um.

That’s a` nice of you a` to say. No one a` else is here. Business, she’s not a` so good. But I’m a` have a` special for you. Spaghet with a` nice thick a` juicy steak and my special bread, churned a` butter and a` dollip a` of a` acorn a` squash, thick with the brown a` sugar and lots ove` a` hot a` coffee.

Can we take a bath first?

Cer-ten a` lee. Each a` room a` has it’s own a` tub. Rooms one, two a` three on a` second floor. Keys in a` the door. I’m a headin` to da kitch `en. Lots of different drinks on a` the side-a`-board-a`in a` the dining a` room, help a` yourself. Cognac and a` cigars next a` to a` the tub. You no worry about horse, Louis, my son, he care of a` them. Bathe, rubba` down, blanket and for a` you, he check a` the cannons and use a` da` lin a`ment a`.

Pascal turned and hurriedly made his way to the back of the house and entered his kitchen. The men stopped in the dining room and made themselves a drink and as they started up the stairs to their rooms they could hear Pascal singing and the pots and pans clanking as he went about starting their meal.

After lounging in the tubs for the better part of an hour, all the while enjoying their cognac and cigars, eventually all three marshals, one by one, made their way to the kitchen. There was a large pot belly stove in the middle of the room and two large stoves radiating heat that felt oh` a` so good.

The room was very warm, inviting, and aglow from the many candles that were placed here and there. The smell of the food cooking was enticing and more than welcome to their empty stomachs.

Pascal was moving around continuously, for their presence told him he should get on with the cooking. He continued singing while he moved around and it was clear he enjoyed what he was doing for the marshals.

Suddenly he stopped next to Porter and asked, Marshal, you a`been a` sick? I’m a` ask ’cause there’s not a` enough a` meat a` on a` your bones.

Porter smiled and replied, You’re right, by golly, there isn’t. I’ve been laid up for a` spell but I’m better now and I’ll get back what I need, especially when it smells as good as it does in here.

Suddenly the outside door opened and in stepped Louis. The room instantaneously became quiet as the three marshals disbelievingly stared at Louis.

Louis offered, Father, the horses have been taken care of and are bedded down for the night. What else can I do?

Pascal noted the reaction of the marshals to his son’s presence and replied,

Sit, a`, Louis, and I will have a` your supper a`ready soon. These men you haven’t a` met. They are United States a`Marshals Thornton, Can a`field and a` Little. You remember a` Marshal Thornton? It was when you were a` much a` younger he was a` here before.

Louis walked to each man to take their hand. His hands were huge and as he shook each hand his strength could be felt and he answered, I don’t remember the marshal, Father.

Well, Marshal Thornton, Louis has a` grown as you can a` see. He’s a`six ` a` foot seven, weighs a` three hundred ten a` pounds and is as strong a` as an ox. He is a` big a` help to me in many a` way.

All Marshal Thornton could say was, He sure has grown from being the little boy I remember, Pascal. What happened?

The Doctor he a` says, Louis’s gland that a` makes a` the growth, it a` over worked.

Rusty cut in, You mean the pituitary gland?

That’s a` it. Two years ago he give him the Vitex berries to stop a` the growin`. He no longer is a` growin`. Supper, she is a` ready.

The men stood and walked into the dining room and at the end of the large table was a massive chair for Louis. When all were seated Pascal went to great lengths to give a meaningful prayer.

The food was consumed in great quantities and with ongoing praise. When the meal was completed the table was easily cleared by Louis and then he left to check the stock. The men sat enjoying more cognac and Rusty asked Pascal, Louis, what does he want to do?

"He’s a` twenty and when a` twenty one next a` month he wants a` to be a` the sheriff of Three Rivers. The City Council would appoint a` him now a` but a` I want a` him to be twenty-one. Our sheriff, Bud Wilson, was a` shot and killed last a` month. Louis, he and a` the sheriff were a` close. The man who shot a` Bud hasn’t been a` found. Louis, he works on it a` every day. Louis, as a` you can a` see is a` strong and not afraid.`

Porter threw in, Pascal, he’s big but that makes him a better target.

I know. He knows how to a` handle him a`self, especially with a` his a` knife. but he a` needs a` something else.

I know just what that is, Marshal Thornton interjected.

What a`, Marshal?

"To talk to us and let us look him over. Then after a couple of