Wells Fargo Gun

        CHAPTER 1

       OUTSIDE LAWRENCE KANSAS  1863

The sun shone warm that early June just outside Lawrence Kansas. A soft breeze

kissed the gently flowing wheat. 

A horse clopped to the water trough.  A cow bawled looking for its calf.

            Merle Dawson screamed.  It wasn’t so much a scream of pain as it was shrill and angry.   From his hiding place under some brush Merle’s five year old son Luke suppressed a

giggle.  His Mom had played this game with him many times before.  If he stayed silent,

       and still, no matter what, he received a little piece of peppermint candy as a reward.  If he came out of his hiding place he got nothing.  Sometimes he was scolded.  Today he

was going to get that candy for sure.  He wouldn’t budge until he heard, “Ally ally out,

Lukey, ally ally out.”  If his Mom yelled, “Come out, Lukey, or All right Luke, come here,”

that didn’t count.  He had to stay where he was or no candy.

     

      Merle had spotted the three riders before Luke saw them.  She said calmly, “Luke, go

hide.”  Luke saw the riders in the distance with their strange mixture of uniforms, north

and south, and the slouch straw hats.  Then he sprinted to his hiding place.  It was a hole

dug into the ground with a wooden roof and concealed by bushes.  They had company

coming and Luke hoped his Mom would call him out soon. 

      Now Luke heard his Mom scream again.  She had yelled before and even screamed.

It seemed somehow different to him this time. Then he heard the gunshot.  Powder and

lead cost money.  His Mom had never pulled that trick on him before. 

      Luke very carefully raised the lid of his hideout.  He saw one of the men coming out

of his house.  In his hand he had a Humrino’s Best flour sack with just a few items in it. 

The other two were looking down at the ground and talking, “Man I shore didn’t want

ta hafta do that. not yet leastwise.”

      “It were a waste sure ‘nuff, Billy Fred.  But ifn’ I hadn’t a done it she were for sure

gonna separate yer head from yer body with that there sickle.”

     “Anybody else ‘round?” asked the first man. 

     “Didn’t see nobody nohow” replied the second.

     “Let’s git,” the third said.

      With that they mounted up and headed south at a leisurely pace.  Luke waited.  He

waited for another hour.  His Mom had never left him there this long.  Finally he came

out from under his hiding place.  It was quiet.  Luke walked into the barnyard.  His

Mom was lying down.  A sleeve on her dress was torn.  There was a red spot on the

front of the dress.  Merle Dawson lay there with her eyes open.  A sickle lay a foot

away from her outstretched hand. 

     Luke sat down and pulled his Mom’s head onto his lap.  He gently shook her trying

to get her to talk to him.  It was in that position that the first of the neighbors saw Luke

when they rode in to check.