The Iron Wagon Read Free Page B

John swallowed hard and nodded.
    One of John’s deputies, Barry Sotak, who had come on the scene only moments before, knelt beside the gunman who lay in the dust. He rose to his feet. “Chief Brockman, this man is dead.”
    While the crowd looked on, John, his son, and Whip headed that way.
    When they drew up to where the corpse lay, Deputy Sotak said, “Some of the crowd told me what happened. They said Paul saved your life by shooting this man.”
    Chief Brockman nodded. “He sure did.” John knelt and examined the dead man, who lay facedown. After seeing where the slug had hit him in the back, John turned him over, then looked up at Paul. “Son, you were explicitly accurate. You put the slug into the left side of the would-be killer’s back, and it plowed right through his heart.”
    The crowd gathered in a close circle as Paul said in a tight voice, “I had no choice but to shoot to kill, Papa. I
had
to save your life.”
    John laid a hand on Paul’s shoulder. “I know you had no choice, son. Thank you.”
    Many of the people in the crowd cheered Paul for what he did.
    John bent over and removed the would-be killer’s wallet from his hip pocket. John removed an identification card and examined it carefully. “His name is Kail Gatlin, and he’s from North Platte, Nebraska. I’ve heard of him. He was a quick-draw gunslinger and well known in Nebraska.” John took a deep breath. “Well, he’s dead now.”
    Paul swallowed hard. “I’m sorry I had to kill him, Papa. Since I’m too young to wear a gun, I had to snatch Uncle Whip’s out of his holster and use it to keep him from shooting you.” Wiping at the tears filling his eyes, Paul hugged his father again.
    John wrapped his arms around his son. “Again, I thank you. You killed a man, yes. But it wasn’t your choice. He was in the wrong and made a very unwise decision. It’s okay, son. You did what you had to do.”
    John still saw the pain lurking in Paul’s eyes. “Son, we’ll talk more about this later. Okay?”
    Paul nodded. “Sure, Papa. We’ll talk more about it at home.”
    As the crowd was still in a tight circle, looking on and listening, John heard the familiar voice of the
Rocky Mountain News
reporter just behind him. “Chief Brockman …”
    John let go of Paul, turned, and set his gaze on the reporter. “Yes, Bart?”
    “I know of this gunslinger, Kail Gatlin. He’s a nephew of Denver resident Chad Marks.”
    The chief U.S. marshal nodded. “I have met Mr. Marks.”
    “Well,” Bart Gilmore said, “I have just learned from somefolks in the crowd that Chad’s next-door neighbors found him dead in his cabin less than half an hour ago.”
    John’s eyebrows arched. “Oh?”
    “Yes sir. Chad has had serious heart trouble for several months. It appears that he died of heart failure.”
    John rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear this. Chad was a good man.”
    Paul Brockman was still quite shaken when he and his father arrived home. After they put the horses in the corral, they headed toward the ranch house. They saw Breanna, Ginny, and Meggie quickly come through the kitchen door onto the back porch.
    “We’re sure glad you gentlemen made it home just before we put supper on the table,” said Ginny.
    “Yeah!” Meggie chimed in. “We were afraid we would have to eat supper without you!”
    As father and son stepped up to the porch, John said, “I have something to tell you ladies.”
    John and Paul solemnly moved up the steps, and then John began to explain. Breanna and the girls listened intently as John told them the story of Paul saving his life in front of the federal building.
    While the girls stood in shock, mouths wide open, Breanna stepped up to Paul, placed her arms around him, and hugged him tightly while saying with a trembling voice, “Thank you, my son, for your quick thinking and actions. I’m so grateful tothe Lord that you were on the scene and that the training your papa has given you