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Authors: Gilbert Morris

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Chapter Nine

LONG SHADOWS GROWING EVER longer were thrown by the buildings that lined the front street of Independence, Missouri, as Owen and Joelle entered the town. Joelle was tired, for the days had been long on their journey and the nights short. Owen had wanted to make good time, and although the oxen lumbered along at a snail’s pace, they had traveled from sunup to nearly dusk, stopping only in time to cook a meal.

During the time when Joelle sat across the fire from Majors, she had become more interested in him. He was like no man she had ever met, and constantly she was thinking about how her deceit would disgust him if he knew she was a young woman and not the lad he thought. She hated to deceive anyone but especially this man she had grown fond of. The fondness troubled her at times, but she realized that was because she had nursed him back to health. He had been so dependent on her that she could not help but think of him as weak. But he certainly wasn’t weak now.

“Well, it looks like Independence has grown up a bit.”

Joelle glanced at Owen. “You been here before?”

“Oh, sure. Been awhile though. When I came through, there wasn’t half a dozen houses and a couple of stores. She’s humming now. This is the jumping-off place for all the wagon trains headed for California or Oregon. I liked it better as it was.”

Joelle took in the main thoroughfare of the town, which, in essence, differed little from most small towns in the South. There was a brick courthouse with a dignified steeple, surrounded on three sides by a white picket fence. All around the square buggies and horses were tied to hitching rails. She saw that, for the most part, the town was composed of two-story frame buildings with steep roofs. There were a general store, hardware store, bank, hotel, livery stable, laundry, blacksmith shop, post office, and a sheriff’s office. There were also three saloons and a small weather-beaten church wedged in between a dentist’s office and a doctor’s office.

“Whoa!” Owen called, and the oxen stopped obediently.

“What do we do now, Owen?”

“I guess we find Harry Jump. Let’s take these critters to the edge of town where we can stake them out. We can’t take them with us.”

Fifteen minutes later they found a spot, and it was obvious that outside the town itself the wagon trains were forming up. Joelle spotted at least three as she watched Owen take the oxbows off the stock and tie them to a tree. She gathered food for them, put it in a box so they could feed, and then shook her head.

“They could break those ropes if they wanted to.”

“They won’t though. Oxen are pretty nice critters. Lots nicer than some humans,” Owen grinned. “At least I know
what to do with you if you act rambunctious. I’ll tie you to a tree like I did old Delilah here.” He slapped the brown and white oxen on the shoulder, reaching up to do so.

“You’re not tying me to a tree.”

“Why, I might if you don’t behave yourself.” His eyes danced with fun. He suddenly reached out and grabbed her. “I’m bigger than you are, so you better mind me.”

Joelle was powerless. He held her by the upper arms, and she knew he could pick her up if he wanted to. Quickly she said, “Turn me loose, Owen. Stop your foolishness.”

“All right. Well, come on. Let’s go see if we can find Harry Jump.” He turned and led her back into the town, and as they walked down the wood boardwalk, they passed a café. “That grub smells pretty good. Let’s try to have a shot at finding Harry. If we don’t find him tonight, we’ll come back here and get a cooked meal. Be nice to set down at a table instead of squatting alongside a fire, won’t it?”

“Yes, I’d like that.”

Owen stopped several men and asked them if they had ever heard of a fellow named Harry Jump. None of them had, and finally Owen turned to Joelle. “I guess we’ll start with the sheriff.”

“The sheriff? Why would he know where Harry is?” Joelle didn’t want to go to the sheriff’s office, for she feared there might be a reward with her description on it. She had had a nightmare about this more than once, but she saw that Owen was determined.

He said, “Well, sheriffs know almost everybody. They’re elected officials so they have to be pretty good politicians. Come on. I saw the sheriff’s office down here.”

They made their way down the boardwalk, and the streets were less crowded now. It was growing dark although the April sun was setting later. When they reached the sheriff’s office, Joelle’s eyes darted quickly to the board as Owen turned to go in. She had only time for a glance, but she had to know. She scanned the board.

“Come on. You’re not going to capture any of those criminals, Joe.”

Quickly Joelle turned and followed Owen. Inside she saw a tall man seated at a desk, leaning back and reading a book. He put it down and came to his feet. “Can I help you folks? I’m Sheriff Moseby.”

“Maybe, Sheriff. My name’s Majors. This here is Joe Jones. We’re looking for a man.”

“A wanted man?” Moseby had direct gray eyes and a very steady gaze. He was examining the two as if he would to describe them later on, probably a habit with the man.

“No, not that I know of, but we thought maybe you had heard of him. His name is Harry Jump.”

“Harry Jump? You’re a friend of his, I take it.”

“Sure am, Sheriff.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place.” Moseby gave his head a sideways jerk. “He’s one of my guests here.”

Joelle saw that Owen was not too surprised. “What’s he done?” he said without much trace of emotion.

“Oh, the charge is disturbing the peace. He got into a ruckus at the Shady Lady Saloon.”

“Well, he does drink too much, and he gets a little bit ambitious. He thinks he can whip anybody, but as far as I know, he never has.”

“Oh, he was sober, Majors. He started preaching.”

“Preaching? Why, Harry’s no preacher!”

“Well, he thinks he is. In any case, he got to preaching, and Bing Taylor took an exception.” The sheriff grinned broadly. “Said he had come to gamble and get drunk, not listen to a preacher. He told Jump he’d break his head if he didn’t leave.”

“I take it he didn’t.”

“No. He just kept on so Bing lit into him. From what I hear, Jump tried to talk his way out of it, but Bing’s a rough cob. The two of them flew at it. Finally a chair got thrown that broke a mirror behind the bar and wasted some good whiskey. My deputy arrested both of them. Bing paid his fine, but Jump says he won’t do it. He said he wasn’t disturbing the peace. All he was doing was preaching.”

Owen removed his hat and wiped his forehead. It had been a hot day, and his shirt was damp with perspiration, and his hair was limp. “I don’t know about this preaching business, but he wasn’t a preacher when I knew him. Far from it. As a matter of fact, he was about as big a sinner as I was.”

“They had a revival meeting come through here a couple of weeks ago. A lot of people got religion. I reckon he was one of them. He told me he got baptized, and he’s been preaching at meetings.” Sheriff Moseby grinned. “I’ve been a Christian since I was twenty-two years old, and he flies at me like I was Judas Iscariot! He’ll preach at anybody that will stand still.”

“Well, is there a fine?”

“Yeah, the trouble is Judge Harlen owns half the interest in the Shady Lady Saloon. He said I had to get the damages before I turned your friend loose.”

“How much?”

“Eighty-five dollars. He’s got the money, like I say, but he’s stubborn. He won’t pay it.”

“Well, I’ll take care of it, Sheriff.” Owen reached into his pocket, pulled out a leather sack, and fished out some bills. “Here you go.”

“OK. Let me get a receipt.”

“Oh, I don’t reckon I need that. Just get him out here.”

“Sure, I’ll bring him right out.”

Moseby left by a door in the back of the office that evidently led to the jail. Joelle said, “You never told me he was a preacher.”

“He’s not—at least he wasn’t when we were running together. Jump’s about as superstitious as a man can be, but he didn’t have any religion that I could tell. No more than I did.”

The two waited, and finally the door opened. The man who came through was not impressive, Joelle decided. He was no more than five-eight, probably weighed a hundred thirty-five or forty pounds, very spare. He had a shock of blond hair and a pair of bright blue eyes. His clothes looked wrinkled, he had bruises on his face, and a cut was healing over his eyebrows.

He grinned at once. “Well, what took you so long, Owen? I’ve been waiting for you to come and get me out of this.”

The sheriff shook his head. “He paid your fine, Harry. Here’s your belongings.” He went to a shelf and pulled out a gun belt and several smaller items. “Do your preaching someplace else besides the Shady Lady. You hear me?”

“Can’t promise that,” Harry grinned broadly. “If the Lord moves me to do it, that’s what I’ll do. I didn’t finish preaching to you, Sheriff. I got some more Scripture for you.”

“You get him out of here, Majors. If he pulls a stunt like this again, I’ll throw him in the insane asylum.”

“Come on,” Owen said shortly, shoved his hat on, and left, followed by Joelle and Jump. As soon as they were outside, Owen turned and said, “What in the world is going on with you? What’s this about you being a preacher?”

“Why, I done been washed by the blood of the Lamb, Owen. Sure wish it had happened a long time ago.” There was regret in his voice, and he shook his head sadly, but then he brightened up. “There was this here revival meeting, and I went to make fun of the preacher. But something happened to me.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I was just getting ready to mock the preacher when suddenly something started happening on my insides. I got scared, Owen. I saw myself dying and going to hell, and suddenly I found out I was about ready to squall like a baby, but then I fell flat on my back. Don’t know what happened to me. While I was lying there, I fell under the power, and I called on God, and He saved me. Ain’t it wonderful?”

Owen smiled and shook his head. “Well, I guess it is if you say so. Just don’t try your preaching on me.”

“Oh, I’ve got to do that.”

“Well, are you still aiming to go to California, or are you going to stay here and convert Independence?”

“Why, I’m going. The Lord told me so.” He turned and stared at Joelle. “Who’s this?”

“This is Joe Jones.”

“Have you been washed in the blood of the Lamb, Joe?”

Joelle liked the man who appeared to be somewhere in his early thirties. “I’ve been a Christian since I was fourteen years old.”

“Well, that’s great!” He put his arm around Jo and gave her a hug. “You and me, buddy, can get Owen into the Kingdom. He needs the good Lord bad.”

“I reckon I’m a lost cause, Harry,” Owen smiled.

“No, you ain’t. You may go kicking and screaming, but you’re one of the elect. Why, Owen, God picked you out to be saved before you was born.”

Owen saw that Jump was poised to deliver a full-fledged sermon and said quickly, “You find somebody else to preach to, Harry, or I’ll soak your head.”

“Why, I can’t give up on you, Owen. But we got to get to California right enough. I got some money, and we need to get outfitted.”

“I had some good luck, Harry. We got eight good oxen and a fine Conestoga wagon. Not new, but it will do to make the trip.”

“Well, you see how God’s already working. Let’s go take a look.”

“No, we’ll take a look later. I’m starved.”

“Me too. The grub was a little skimpy in that jailhouse.”

“There’s a café down here.”

“Oh, I know that. I’ve eaten there several times.”

“Why didn’t you pay your way out? You had the money, didn’t you, Harry?” Joelle asked.

“Need that money for converting the heathens at the California gold camps.”

Jump talked constantly until they reached the restaurant. When they entered, Joelle saw that the place was almost full, but there was a table by the back wall. When the waitress, a tall, raw-boned young woman in her early twenties, came to them, she said, “What can I get you folks?”

“Are you a converted woman? The Lord’s handmaiden?” Jump demanded, staring up at her, his eyes almost on fire.

“Am I what?”

“Are you saved? Converted? Born again?”

“No, I ain’t. Do you want something to eat?”

“I want to talk to you about your soul.”

The waitress gave him a hard look. “We serve food here. If you want something, order. If you don’t, get out.”

“Why, let me do the ordering,” Owen said quickly. “What’s your specialty?”

“We got steak and potatoes and peas and fresh bread.”

“Bring us all a bunch of that,” Owen said.

As soon as the waitress left, Joelle said, “You scared her off, Harry.” She was amused by the man. “You can’t hit people right between the eyes with the gospel like that.”

“Why, John the Baptist did. He called them a bunch of snakes and said they had to repent. If it’s good enough for John the Baptist, it’s good enough for me.”

“Are you a Baptist?” Owen asked, studying his friend carefully.

“I reckon I am. The preacher, he was a Baptist, and he baptized me so that makes me a Baptist.”

Owen listened as Harry gave a steady stream of talk, describing his conversion and how he had set out to witness to everybody he met. “You’re going to become a public nuisance if you do that.”

“Jesus was a public nuisance.”

“Well, you’re not Jesus,” Owen said, “so why don’t you sit back and listen awhile. Before you start preaching, you need to know what you’re preaching about.”

Joelle listened as the two argued. She could see that Owen had a real affection for the smaller man. There was a warm light in his eyes, and he smiled most of the time.

Finally the food came, and the waitress kept her eye on Jump. He opened his mouth, and she said, “I don’t need none of your preaching. You’re the guy that broke up the saloon, ain’t you?”

“That wasn’t me. That was Bing.”

“You was arrested for it. Don’t you break nothing in here. This is my place. If you break any of our furniture, my husband will take your head off. That’s him over there. He’d make two of you, and he does everything I tell him.”

“That must be a nice arrangement,” Owen grinned. “Did you two agree on that before you got married?”

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