Chapter 7 - My First Call to Duty
Three days after I became Deputy, I had my first real altercation. Sure, there were minor incidents in the first few days but nothing to really speak of. My “baptism by fire” came on Friday night, no surprise there - a fight over at Joe’s bar. It all started when three Southerners began cursing and throwing beer bottles at the bartender because he had just served two black men who came in for a drink after finishing their shift at the paper mill.
By the time Abe and I got there, one of the black men had a broken nose and the other had a gun pointed at his head. We both drew our guns and made our presence known. The assailant knew he was outnumbered and dropped his gun to the floor. It fired on impact but thankfully the bullet only hit a mirror on the wall, shattering its glass all over the bar. Luckily, nobody was hit by the flying glass. Two of the Confederates high-tailed it out of there before anyone could stop them. We would get them the next day with no problem as we knew who they were - the Gatlin brothers. The third, the one whose gun discharged wasn’t so lucky. Jeremiah Jones was about to be apprehended by Broken Heart’s new Deputy.
I told him to put his hands behind his back. I was planning to tie him up. He never made any attempt so I grabbed him and decided to make a dent in a supporting beam in the bar by using his head. It was not a problem to tie him after that and take him to jail.
The next day, Abe brought him before Judge Harris. We wanted to charge Jeremiah with attempted murder but the Judge wouldn’t agree. He cited the fact that Jones was intoxicated and wasn’t fully responsible for his actions. He didn’t believe a murder was ever contemplated. Harris did agree that an act that was a danger to the public had been committed and found Jeremiah Jones guilty. He sentenced him to 30 days in jail. What that meant for Abe and me was that one of us would have to go down to the General Store and buy extra coffee and supplies so our guest wouldn’t starve in our custody.
In the early afternoon, I went in search of the Gatlin boys but there was no sign of them. I was told by some of the locals that they had seen two riders leaving town right after the fight at Joe’s. I figured there was no point in tracking them down as it had been raining that morning and the road out of town branched away in three different directions.