“I’ll take this matter up,” the judge told the stricken sheriff, “to-morrow morning, and I’ll hold you responsible for the appearance of the defendant in court at that time.”
The news flew fast, and when the posse returned from Charleston they found the town of Tombstone discussing Johnny Behan’s predicament. Being wise politicians, the leaders of the law-and-order party kept to themselves the information as to John Ringo’s whereabouts. That evening they called a meeting of their followers, and a second posse set forth through the darkness for Charleston.
There were some fifty-odd of them, well armed and enthusiastic. Their purpose was to bring the outlaw to 149 the court-house the next morning. Thereby the reform movement should gain much prestige––and the sheriff lose standing.
But Charleston was full of stock-rustlers and bad men that night, and when the members of the law-and-order party rode into the place they found themselves surrounded by a half a hundred of the worst men in the Territory of Arizona. John Ringo had been looking for further trouble, and his forces were so well disposed that the invaders had their choice between surrender and being massacred.
They yielded to necessity like wise men and gave over their arms to their captors, who forthwith took them to the nearest saloon and bought them many drinks. It was during this portion of the proceedings that Curly Bill, who had led the ambushing-party, learned whom the prisoners were seeking. He brought the news to John Ringo.
“So it’s me they’re after,” the outlaw said.
“And it looks,” said Curly Bill, “like Johnny Behan is in a mighty tight box, the way things has turned out.”
Knowing the grudge which his friend held against the sheriff, he was not surprised to see John Ringo’s face grow darker and the light in his eyes more devilish.
“I tell you what,” the latter bade him after some moments of thinking. “You keep those fellows here to-night. Don’t let one of them leave Charleston.”
And Curly Bill departed to see that the command was obeyed. They say that the celebration which attended the holding of the captives was one of the large events in the tumultuous history of the cow-town by the San Pedro, and those who witnessed it are unanimous in 150 stating that the Tombstone contingent upheld the reputation of their camp when it came to whisky-drinking. It was late the next day before the last of them rode back through the foot-hills of the Mule Mountains to their homes. But all of this is apart from the story.