One More Sunrise (36 page)

With those words ringing in his ears, Tag seemed to cave in. His face went sheet white, his jaw slacked, and his knees buckled.

One of the federal deputies grasped him to keep him from falling.

The judge said thinly, “Mr. Moran, you should have thought about your fear of dying before you became a killer.”

Tag Moran’s skin tingled with horror. His pulse pounded, his forehead dampened with perspiration, and his eyelids twitched nervously.

Yeager looked at the chief U.S. marshal. “Chief Brockman, you can take your prisoners outside now. The sheriff and his deputies will be here shortly to take them to the prison.”

When the trembling Tag Moran and his three gang members were taken to the prison by the Carbon County sheriff and his three deputies, Chief Brockman went to the Western Union office and wired the news back to his office to be reported to both Denver newspapers. He also wired Sheriff James Hoffman in Fort Collins to advise him of the gang’s capture and to give him the date that Judge George Yeager had set for Tag Moran’s execution.

With this done, Brockman, his deputies, and the reporter headed back to Cheyenne in the wagon. Brockman and his deputies would catch the next train to Denver.

On Saturday, May 14, the stagecoach driven by Buck Cummons arrived in Fort Collins on its regular run from Casper.

The Wells Fargo agent was quick to tell Buck and Doke the news, and showed them the story of the Moran gang’s capture in Cheyenne on Thursday as reported in the
Fort Collins Gazette
.

Buck released a satisfied sigh. “This is great news! I’m so glad to hear that rotten gang is now locked up in the Wyoming Territorial Prison! They won’t escape this time. And their leader won’t escape the noose, either.”

Doke’s voice quivered. “I know Tag deserves to be hanged, but it’s hard to think about it because it was him who saved my life years ago at the risk of his own life.”

Buck nodded. “I can understand why it’s hard for you, Doke.”

“Yeah,” said the agent. “I can understand too. The man who saved your life is about to lose his own.”

Doke wiped a palm over his face. “Fellas, I’d like to go to the prison and see Tag before he’s executed. Would you give me a few days off so I can do that?”

The agent nodded. “Sure, Doke. You all right about it, Buck?”

Buck nodded. “Of course. I’ll get Clem Dobbins to fill in for him. When do you want to go, Doke?”

“Tomorrow, if it’s all right. I’ll ride to Rawlins. That way I can see him on Monday.”

“Sure. See you when you get back.”

On that same Saturday, May 14, Lucinda Moran and Kathryn Tully went into Fort Collins to buy groceries and supplies as usual.

As they hauled up in front of the general store and climbed out of the wagon seat, they heard people on the boardwalk talking about the Moran gang being apprehended again. This time it was in Cheyenne. They had been taken to the Wyoming Territorial Prison at Rawlins.

Kathryn felt relief wash through her body. Her note had done it.

Lucinda hurried to the nearby newsstand and bought the day’s edition of the
Fort Collins Gazette
. She opened the front page so both could see it, and they silently read it together.

When they had finished, Lucinda blinked at her tears. “Oh, Kathryn, how am I going to stand it? Bart will be in that prison for the rest of his life. And—and next Wednesday, Tag will hang at sunrise.”

Kathryn was secretly comforted, knowing the gang members were finally locked up. Now they wouldn’t be abducting Dr. Dane Logan’s bride during the wedding next Saturday. As for Tag, he was getting what he deserved.

She hid a secret smile.
I don’t want Lucinda to know that I’m the one who advised the law about the gang’s plan to rob the Cheyenne banks. She would be furious. I can only hope that I never see Howard Spalding again. I’ll
have to be careful when I’m in Fort Collins
.

Kathryn met Lucinda’s teary gaze. “I’m sorry for what this is doing to you, Lucinda, but at least your husband is still alive.”

Lucinda sniffed. “Yes. Bart’s still alive. And that is some comfort. But he’s going to be in prison for the rest of his life. So what kind of life does that give me?”

Kathryn put her arms around her. “Honey, I’ll stay with you until we can both make some plans.”

“Thank you. Right now, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

A pang of guilt struck Kathryn’s heart, but she quickly dismissed it.
I did what I had to do. Those men had to be caught and put behind bars. But … I do feel sorry for Lucinda, even though she was all in favor of what the gang was doing
.

In Fort Collins, Doke Veatch entered his room at the boardinghouse and closed the door behind him. His mind was churning. He had been thinking about Tag Moran all the way to the boardinghouse, and had decided he could not just stand by and let the man who had saved his life die. If it weren’t for Tag, he would have been dead a long time ago.

Doke crossed the room to his gun cabinet and took out a .41-caliber double-vertical-barreled Derringer pocket pistol. He opened a box of cartridges, loaded the gun, and put it in a paper bag.

Before dawn the next morning, he rode out of Fort Collins, heading northwest toward Rawlins, Wyoming, keeping his horse at a steady trot. He arrived in Rawlins as darkness was falling and took a room in the town’s only hotel.

The next morning, under a clear, sunny sky, Doke rode out to the prison, wanting to look it over. As he rode around the twelve-foot-high stockade fence, he noticed the guards with rifles in the two towers that rose above the fence. At one point, he spied one of the guards watching him and waved at him, wanting to appear as a casual, curious rider. The guard nodded and waved back.

Soon he guided his horse to the top of a nearby grassy knoll, which was high enough to let him see into the prison yard. He noted that the gallows was visible in a corner of the yard close to the large stone building with the barred windows that housed the
prisoners. A shiver ran down his spine as he thought of Tag dying on the somber gallows on Wednesday morning.

Doke observed the inmates milling about the fenced-in area, which he estimated would cover about half an acre. A few armed, uniformed guards were also moving about, keeping watch on the convicts.

Suddenly he saw Bart and Jason Moran and Tony Chacone standing aloof from the rest of the inmates, talking to each other. He told himself that since Tag was slated to be hanged, he no doubt was being kept in his cell.

Having taken it all in, Doke rode back into town and returned to his hotel room. That night after darkness fell, he rode back out to the prison to make the final move for the plan he had in mind. There was no moon, only the soft, faint glow of the stars to give him light.

On Tuesday morning, Doke drew near the prison and guided his horse once more to the top of the grassy knoll. There he saw the inmates milling about the prison yard and soon picked out Bart, Jason, and Tony. Once again, the trio was aloof from the rest of the prisoners. The guards were there in the yard and in the towers.

Doke rode his horse up to the front gate and drew rein. One of the two guards in the tower next to the gate looked down and said, “What can we do for you, mister?”

“Sir, I’m a lifelong friend of one of your prisoners. His name is Tag Moran, and he is being hanged tomorrow morning. I would like to visit him if possible.”

The guard nodded. “We know about Moran’s appointment with the hangman tomorrow. You can see him. I’ll be right down. Go ahead and dismount and tie your horse to one of those hitching posts.”

Quickly descending the tower stairs, the guard opened the gate and escorted Doke inside the building. He told the guard at the desk who the young man wanted to see and left to return to the tower.

Moments later, after identifying himself as a shotgunner for Wells Fargo Stagelines and being frisked, Doke was escorted toward the visiting room while another guard went after Tag.

When Doke and the guard entered the visiting room, the guard guided him to a barred window and had him sit down in the wooden chair that was provided. Doke quickly noted that the window was covered with metal netting so nothing could be passed between convict and visitor.

A few minutes later, the door to the room on the other side of the barred window came open, and the guard who had gone after Tag had him at his side. He motioned toward the window where Doke sat and said, “You’ve got fifteen minutes, Moran.”

Tag nodded glumly and headed toward the window. The guard stepped out, closed and locked the door. There were no other visitors at the moment.

When Tag sat down, he tried to smile. “Doke, ol’ pal, I really am glad to see you.”

Doke made a smile. “You too, Tag.” Keeping his voice low, he said, “We don’t have much time, so listen closely. I have devised a way of escape for you.”

Tag’s eyes brightened a bit. “Go on.”

“I arrived in Rawlins Sunday night and took a room at the hotel. Yesterday, I rode out here to look the place over, then went back to the hotel. After dark last night, I came back out here. I sneaked up to the stockade fence and placed a paper bag containing a loaded double-barreled Derringer next to a fence post. With that four-inch space between the bottom log of the fence and the ground, it was easy to do.”

Tag nodded.

“I’m gonna ask to see Bart next and I’ll tell him where the gun is. It’ll be up to him, Jason, and Tony to get you out of your cell, and all four of you out of this prison.”

A smile spread over Tag’s face. “Bart will handle it, I guarantee you.” The smile drained away; then Tag said, “Doke, thanks for doing this.”

“Hey, pal, you saved my life once. Now I’m doing what I can to save yours. Ah, just one thing.”

“Yeah?”

“I know you still carry your hatred for Dr. Dane Logan.”

“So?”

“I want your solemn promise that you will not kill him.”

“Okay, you have my solemn promise that I won’t kill him.”

“Thank you. I’ll give it a few days; then I’ll come to your hideout in the mountains and see you.”

“That’ll be fine, Doke. You will be plenty welcome.”

At that moment, the guard who had brought Doke into the visiting room came through the door. Moving up to him, he said, “Time’s up, Mr. Veatch.”

The lock in the door behind Tag rattled, the door came open, and the guard said, “Okay, Moran, let’s go.”

To make it look normal, Tag put on an act, shedding tears as if he were seeing Doke for the last time. He was still bawling when the guard pushed him out the door.

When the door clanked shut, Doke turned to the guard who was about to usher him out. “Sir, would it be possible for me to have a few minutes with Tag’s brother, Bart?”

“Well, as long as you’re here, I don’t see why not. You sit tight.”

Moments later, when Doke and Bart were alone, Doke told him of hiding the Derringer in the paper bag at the base of the third post from the southwest corner underneath the stockade fence, on the west side.

Bart grinned. “You really are a true friend, Doke.”

“I owe Tag my life. If I can save his life and make it so you, Jason, and Tony can escape, I’m happy. I used a Derringer rather than a regular revolver because you can easily conceal it in a pocket or a boot. Tag said you can handle it from here, Bart.”

Bart nodded. “You bet I can handle it. Once the Derringer is in my pocket, I’ll casually make my way up to the captain of the guards. I’ll grab him and put the gun to his head. I guarantee you, the warden and his guards will not jeopardize the captain’s life. We’ll make our escape, taking the captain with us as hostage. Once we’re in the clear, we’ll leave him tied up somewhere, steal some horses, and head for the hideout.”

“Sounds good. See you soon at the hideout.”

“You sure will.”

Moments later, Doke was in the saddle riding toward Fort Collins, feeling confident he had saved Tag Moran’s life.

A
t the hideout on Wednesday morning some twenty minutes after sunrise, Lucinda Moran and Kathryn Tully stood at the parlor window looking northward, in the direction of Rawlins, Wyoming.

An emotional tide washed through Lucinda. She drew a shaky breath and looked at Kathryn. “Well, it’s all over for Tag by now.”

Kathryn nodded silently. After a few seconds, she said, “If only Tag had listened to me months ago, we would all be in California at this very moment. Gib would still be alive, and so would Tag. And you would still have Bart with you. Now our dream has turned into a nightmare.”

It was Lucinda’s turn to nod in silence.

Later in the day, the two women were sitting on the front porch of the cabin, both staring silently at the forests around them.

“Lucinda, we’ve both got to start thinking about our futures. I certainly don’t want to stay here in this remote place, and I don’t think you do either.”

Lucinda moved her head back and forth. “No.”

“Well, we have plenty of money in the kitty for the two of us. We can afford to move into a town and buy a house.”

Without hesitation, Lucinda said, “I’d like to move to Rawlins so I’d be close to Bart and could visit him regularly. We could buy a house there.”