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McLaine, Town Marshal

Astor

By Astor
in Coruscant Entertainment Centre

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Astor Newbie

Astor

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Okay, so I found a way to start. :D

 

McLaine, Town Marshal

 

It was dark, but the thoroughfare was still filled with people. They always were on Saturdays. Most of the mines were closed until Monday, and the miners ventured from their camps out near the mountain to spend their hard earned money, be it paper, coin, or raw silver. The Saloons didn’t care, so long as they got some of it.

 

But eventually, someone would have too much to drink. And invariably they’d get rowdy. And then someone would have to deal with it. That someone was Elias McLaine, town Sheriff and keeper of the peace. At 6’ 3’’, he was already imposing enough, without the Schofield at his side, or the badge on his coat.

 

It was tough job, to be sure. The hours were long, the pay, at 5 dollars a day, was reasonable, but you never did know if you’d be able to collect the money at the end of the week. But he’d done well enough these past four months. He was the longest serving Sheriff since the town was founded. The shortest lasted only three minutes.

 

9pm. The night was still young for most, especially the Sheriff. He was in his usual night spot – outside Fry’s Coffee House, watching, and listening for any disturbance. It didn’t take long. The sharp sounds of gunfire sounded from up the street, in the red-light area. Sighing, McLaine started off, hand at his belt, his badge glinting as the street lights caught it.

 

It didn’t take long to find the disturbance’s place of origin. The Imperial Hotel. That place was a curse. It was a nice enough place, but the gambling brought out a mean streak in otherwise nice people.

 

As he neared the hotel, he rested his hand on his gun, as he saw the gathering crowd. A man was lying face down in the street, a hole in his back, and another was being held against the wall while two others beat him. That was all he needed to proceed. He pulled his gun, and flipped it round, so that he was holding the barrel.

 

He took a few steps, raised his gun, and brought the thick wood handle down across one man’s head, knocking him to the floor. The other man let go of his victim, and reached for his gun. He wasn’t fast enough. McLaine had spun his own pistol round, allowing him to fire. But he didn’t.

 

“I wouldn’t if I were you, Mister. Drop it” The man hesitated for a moment, but eventually his hand moved from his holster, to the buckle on his gun belt, and it dropped to the floor.

 

“Now, what happened here?” McLaine didn’t lower his gun. There’s no telling what an arrested man might do. He quickly glanced to look at the man he’d incapacitated. He was out cold, and a bystander was tying his hands so he couldn’t attempt anything. He nodded a quick thanks, and turned back to the other.

 

“We were being cheated, Sheriff. The man we killed was stealing. We just wanted our money back” The man was beginning to realise just what he’d done. McLaine looked to the crowd. They were getting agitated. “…I say we kill them! Tom was no cheat! They’re Liars!” The situation was deteriorating, and he needed to prevent any more killing. He quickly cuffed the conscious man – and ordered him to pick up his friend, before he turned to face the now hostile crowd.

 

“Let us have them, Sheriff! We ain’t got no quarrel with you!” He couldn’t allow that to happen. He raised his gun to the sky, and fired a few shots. “Disperse, and return to your previous business! Or so help me god, I will shoot every one of you that tries to harm these men!”

 

“He’s bluffing! He’s only got three bullets left!” Shouted one of the crowd. He may only have three bullets left, but he could make every shot count. “This is your last warning!” The crowd was showing no sign of backing down. “Do as the man says!” This shout came from behind the crowd, accompanied by the sound of rifle fire.

 

Whoever it was, they certainly convinced the crowd to back down. The crowd parted, and two men started towards the clearing outside the hotel. “Thought you could use some help Sheriff” Ray Johnson, owner of a hardware store was a good man, always the first to volunteer when help was needed. He’d come just in time. “Obliged, Ray. We’re gonna take ‘em down to the Jail, if you’ll cover our backs” he looked to his son, Jacob, who nodded agreement, and the group backed out of the clearing, guns still ready, should anyone try anything. After about twenty paces, they turned around, and picked up speed towards the jail.

 

“You always show up late, Ray” McLaine remarked as they walked up to the Jail door, to be met by Charlie, the warden, his trusty coach gun at the ready.

 

“I like saving your hide, Eli” smiled Johnson as he stepped back and turned to go to his store. “I’ll go see the Judge in the morning, and tell him you’re gonna need him come Monday”.

 

McLaine smiled to himself, and entered the jail, to begin writing his report.

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JAvatar80 Newbie

JAvatar80

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I'll admit it, from the title alone I was half-expecting a pseudo-political satire/parody dealing with McCaine. Not only am I pleasantly suprised at the fact that it's not, but this is a good old-fashioned western. :D I like it alot, and am looking forward to another.

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Astor Newbie

Astor

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Thanks for kind words, folks. As I guessed, the writing is positively flowing now that i've made a start. A second part should be up sometime later today. Just what will McLaine do with those two criminals? :)

 

@JAvatar80 - i'm not witty enough for any sort of political satire... :p

 

EDIT: Also, for those of you not 'in the know' - there's some information about the model of firearm that the Sheriff favours here.

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Astor Newbie

Astor

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Okay, part 2.

 

Part 2

 

“Let ‘em go?” it seemed that even after saying those three words four times, it was still difficult to understand.

 

McLaine took to pacing the Judge’s office, his boots banging loudly as he went back and forth. “I don’t like it any more than you, Eli, but Ned Carson’s father has powerful friends. Powerful enough that they don’t care that the man they’re helping was witnessed killing a man” The Judge’s tone showed his contempt for the matter.

 

Thaddeus H. Wilson, District Judge, was a well respected man about the town. No-one ever challenged his rulings, and he, along with McLaine, was the major force of order in town. That, and he was a mean hand with the Loomis side-by-side he kept under his desk.

 

“The county commissioner has forbidden any trial of Ned Carson or his associate from proceeding, and there’s nothing I can legally do to overrule it. You have to let them go, Eli” That was the fifth time. Eli wouldn’t let it happen.

 

“They ain’t leaving. They killed one man, and beat another so bad that Doc Forrest says he won’t live till Thursday, and I had to face down a lynch mob to get ‘em in jail! They’re staying. They either get a trial or they don’t, but they’re gonna pay, one way or the other.” He turned on his heels, and started towards the door.

 

“What do I tell Evan Carson? He’s not going to be pleased that his son’s in jail” Eli pondered this for a moment. Evan Carson was powerful – but he wasn’t foolish enough to harm an officer of the peace. Do that and even your most powerful friends would fall away.

 

“Tell him his son’s gonna hang” He took the remaining few steps and left, slamming the door behind him. His stomach was uneasy. He knew what would be coming – Evan wouldn’t just let his son rot in a cell – which was no less than he deserved. No, Evan would attempt something.

 

But he was clever enough not to try anything obvious, such as a jailbreak. Unless, that is, he exhausted his other options. He certainly wouldn’t be doing anything personally – he preferred to pay others to do his dirty work, which was usually very dirty. McLaine had suspected him of involvement in at least three ‘disappearances’, but there were never any solid leads to tie him to them.

 

He knew one thing – the Carsons were dangerous people. People who crossed them didn’t come out of their dealings with an advantage. They would come, and McLaine needed to be ready.

 

He could hold Ned for as long as he needed – the jail was secure, and had only one entry point. The doors were extra thick pine, and the walls either side had firing slits in event of a siege. Whoever built the place knew what they were doing. He just hoped that he wouldn’t have to defend it. He was more confident in the open.

 

Charlie was just as happy as McLaine was at the news they would have to go free. “Over mah dead body, Sheriff! Saul Tomson was a good friend ta me, an’ they killed him! I’ll blast ‘em myself I hafta!” He rattled the barrel of his shotgun against he cell bars. “D’ya hear that, ya no good, murderin’ sons of…”

 

“That’s enough, Charlie. I understand your sentiments, but getting angry ain’t gonna help us!” He grabbed the shotgun, and placed it on his desk, guiding Charlie to a chair. Charlie was a good man, but his age prevented him from taking a more active role in enforcing the law. But he was content enough to sit in the Jail, keeping an eye on things from there.

 

“Now, I’m gonna go over and see Ray, get some supplies, and see if he’s willing to help. You just keep an eye on those two. Don’t shoot them while I’m out. Do that and we’re both dead men. I’m expecting Evan Carson to drop by sometime this morning – tell him to wait here and I’ll see him.” Before he left, he made sure to pick up one of the Winchesters on the wall rack. He didn’t want to be caught if Evan had heard already.

 

He’d already heard. As McLaine was leaving the office, three men were dismounting outside. The two one either side of the middle man, he didn’t recognise. They were rough looking – no more than hired guns by the way they were wearing their belts. The man in the middle, he certainly recognised. Dressed smartly, in a tailored grey suit, with a wide-brimmed white hat, he smiled as he looked up at the Sheriff.

 

“Mornin’ Sheriff” his grin widened “My brother ready to go yet?” he stepped up onto the boardwalk, brining him to almost eye level with McLaine, and he fixed his gaze at him.

 

“I’ve got business first. You can go and see him, but he ain’t going anywhere fast” As he tried to leave, Carson grabbed his arm. He shook it off.

 

“You’d better not do that again, Carson. I’ll deal with you after I’ve seen to my business. Now, you can wait inside or come back later” he stepped off the boardwalk, and towards the hardware store. As he looked back, Carson and his companions were entering the Jail. He spun round, and pulled the lever on his rifle, it’s noise catching their attention.

 

“Just you, Carson! I don’t remember saying you could take your thugs in there! You two! Throw me your guns. You can wait outside!” The two men both looked at Carson, who nodded his consent.

 

“Give ‘em up, boys. Let the Sheriff have his fun, while he still can” They complied, as Carson turned to enter the Jail, and see his no-good son, as McLaine continued towards the hardware store.

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