Return to Crows Creek by John E Vale

Author:John E Vale [Vale, John E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Robert Hale
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

In the aftermath of the jail burning to the ground, the marshal met Murphy and Carver in the converted church known as the Baptist Tabernacle. In order to bring more brethren into the flock, the minister, Mathew Hickman, decided to turn the place into an eating house, offering food and drink at reasonable rates.

It was a single-storey building with a high ceiling held up by large wooden joists, from which hung several cartwheels, each holding ten candles around their rims. The floor was polished mahogany, matching the redwood tables and chairs that were placed around the room, each equidistant from the other. In the middle was a pump organ, at which sat an elderly lady dressed in puritan black and white, who rhythmically drove it with her feet as she pumped out a never-ending selection of hymns. This entertainment was regularly interrupted every hour by a short service whereby customers and staff gave praise to the Lord.

The food was simple, good and cheap, so despite having compulsory religion served with every meal it attracted as many as twenty townsfolk at any one time.

As the marshal and his deputies waited for their waitress, Daniel called them to task.

‘Once more, the pair of you never cease to amaze,’ he began. ‘We have hardly been in this town twenty-four hours and you have managed to burn down two buildings. You must let me know the secret of your success.’

Carver dropped his head. ‘We ain’t got no secret, Marshal.’

Murphy leaned closer and whispered, ‘Once agen, it weren’t our fault.’

‘Then pray tell me: whose fault was it?’

Murphy shuffled uneasily in his chair. ‘Well, it sort of was our fault, but we didn’t mean to burn the jail down. It just sort of happened.’

‘Yeah, Marshal, it just happened,’ Carver added.

Daniel leaned back in his chair and took his lapels in his hands. ‘Please continue,’ he said.

‘Well, Carver and me was doin’ just as you told us to. We was tryin’ to get the place in good order when those flies kept on comin’ back into the jail; we think they were lookin’ for that rotten bit of deer we done throwed out. Anyway, Carver and me thought it best to have a little fire outside so as to burn the meat and kill the smell. We also thought we’d burn those rag tag drapes and one or two other things.’ He looked at the marshal with sheepish eyes.

‘Go on,’ Daniel said quietly.

‘Well, we got things goin’ pretty good: the fire was a burnin’ and we kept good watch on the sparks that came from the wood we used, when all of a sudden we heard gunshots comin’ from up the street. We thought you was in terrible trouble so we ran to help. How was we to know the fire would spread?’

The marshal leaned forwards, clenched his hands, placed his arms on the table and gave a short sigh. ‘I suppose accidents will happen, but why are the both of you always in the centre of things?’

‘It was just as Murphy said, Marshal.

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