Generations in Agony...Texas: Chapter Twelve

12) And, over at constable Entwhistle’s office…

There were a few old timers around town that had seen a body carried in on horseback, but it had been a long time. Certainly not since before the streets were paved and things had gotten to be, at least as much as ever, civilized in Agony. Old men sitting around on spit and whittle benches, stood as Old Carl Speck rode down through town leading a dead man on a horse.

By the time he reached Entwhistle’s office, at least two hundred people were aware of what Speck was up to. He dismounted and looked around. No one spoke. Most were just plain afraid to say anything to a known killer. Carl tied off Cleo and then Mulligan’s old soap, a wandering swayback that everyone knew was called Pilot. He had found the animal almost as soon as he realized that a body needed to be taken to town. In need of a horse, Carl had scanned the horizon and seen Pilot out there walking across the great nothing, as old Emilo had called it.

Entwhistle came out of his office door and stopped, looking up at the body on the back of Mulligan’s horse. “What the hell?”

“Found him this morning. Looks like he got into a bunch of rattlers, far as I can tell. Where you want him?”

The constable was at a loss. It was not every day that a body turned up in Agony. Of course, as Entwhistle well knew, they had spent the better part of a week just looking for a body, not six weeks ago. Now, here one was, right on his office doorstep. It had taken him two weeks to get all the paperwork from those few days properly recorded. He was already imagining the endless reams of paper this was going to cause. “Who is it, Mr. Speck?”

“Hell if I know, just found him in a gully, southeast of town.”

Entwhistle pushed his hat up and scratched his thinning scalp. “Guess we need to call the Doc.”

“Well,” Carl Speck said, sounding a bit impatient, “help me get this fool down.”

“Yes, sir. Reckon we can put him in the office for a bit.” The two men did that and Carl immediately turned to leave.

“Hey, wait a minute, Mr. Speck. You can’t just off and leave me with a body. There’s forms need to be filed, stuff like that.”

Speck gave the constable a bored look. “I got things to take care of before I go back out on the range, Henry. I’ll be at the bank, the barber shop, the ranch, for just a minute or two, and picking up my truck and rig. After that, I’m headed fifty-six miles to the north range.”

Entwhistle sighed and nodded. “Alright then. Go about your business, Mr. Speck. But I may need to ask you some questions before too long.”

Carl said nothing, turning and walking out the door. There was a crowd gathered in front of Mildred’s, and another one in front of the bank. With an extra horse, Carl already had to make a detour so he could see to it that Mulligan’s sway-back was properly taken to his owner. Then, he still had his own business, none of which had gotten done despite all this wasted time. He hopped onto Cleo and took Pilot’s lead. “C’mon, girl. Let’s go to the junk yard and drop off your buddy here.”

Gawkers watched as the legendary cowboy rode slowly down the street, turning down Pipeline Avenue and headed for Mulligan’s Salvage.

*