ripped the paper to shreds and sat down on the bed, his hands trembling. Cotton Blossom watched him, knowing something was wrong.
âDamn these people!â Nathan raged. âI did everything a man can do to get around killing the little varmint, but he wouldnât have it any other way. Come morning, Cotton Blossom, weâre ridinâ to Missouri. I aim to raise hell and kick a chunk under it.â
Â
Nathan ventured out for supper that evening and for breakfast the next morning. He then turned in his room key, saddled the grulla, loaded the packhorse, and rode eastward, toward Kansas City. He followed the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe tracks, for that was the most direct route. He might have taken the train, but he had no assurance there would be a boxcar, and he needed his horses. First he would learn why the Kansas-Pacific had allowed the use of the etching in a death sentence reward notice. Then he would ride on to Jefferson City, to the state capital. There he would demand that the stateâs attorney general wire the sheriff of Springfield, where the killing of Rusty Limbaugh had taken place. Nathan had acted in self-defense, and since the state hadnât pressed charges, the Limbaugh familyâs reward should put them in violation of the law. Nathan had little doubt he would be vindicated, but that would be small consolation if some bounty hunter gunned him down before the wrong could be righted.
Kansas City, Missouri. April 6, 1873
While Nathan was treated courteously at Kansas-Pacific, the nature of his complaint had him meeting with Miles Herndon, the railroadâs attorney.
âYou must understand,â Herndon said, âthat the Kansas-Pacific had nothing to do with the etching being used in a reward dodger. The Liberty-Tribune created the etching to complement the story the Kansas-Pacific supplied. The etching belongs to the newspaper.â
âYouâre telling me this damn newspaper can use a likeness of me anyway it sees fit,â said Nathan angrily. âEven in an unlawful wanted poster that could get me shot dead.â
âThatâs what it amounts to,â Herndon replied, âand attacking the newspaper will get you exactly nowhere. If this reward has not been sanctioned by the state, then itâs illegal, and as such, could and should be withdrawn. You would do well to contact the stateâs attorney general, requesting that he contact the sheriff in the county where the reward has been posted. If the law agrees you acted in self-defense, then a cease-and-desist order from the attorney general could be served through the county sheriff.â
Nathan left the attorneyâs office, convinced he had been given sound advice. However, he was a hundred and eighty miles west of Jefferson City, and Missouri was teeming with potential bounty hunters who would kill a man for a hell of a lot less than five thousand dollars. He bought a paper, replacing the one he had ripped to shreds. Placing it in his saddlebag, he began the long ride to Jefferson City.
Jefferson City, Missouri. April 10, 1873
âMaâam,â Nathan said, âIâm not here to see an assistant to the attorney general. I want to see the attorney general himself.â
âSorry,â said the prim gray-haired receptionist, âbut the attorney general will see you only if circumstances warrant it. His assistant, Charles Atchison, will make that decision.â
After an impatient half hour, Nathan was shown to Atchisonâs office. He sat with hands clasped, looking at Nathan over the top of his spectacles. Nathan leaned on the desk, the newspaper under his arm.
âMr. Atchison,â he said, as calmly as he could, âI need the help of the attorney general.â
âSo does everybody entering this office,â said Atchison, unruffled. âI suppose you are going to tell me why.â
âI am,â Nathan replied, spreading the page of the
âDamn these people!â Nathan raged. âI did everything a man can do to get around killing the little varmint, but he wouldnât have it any other way. Come morning, Cotton Blossom, weâre ridinâ to Missouri. I aim to raise hell and kick a chunk under it.â
Â
Nathan ventured out for supper that evening and for breakfast the next morning. He then turned in his room key, saddled the grulla, loaded the packhorse, and rode eastward, toward Kansas City. He followed the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe tracks, for that was the most direct route. He might have taken the train, but he had no assurance there would be a boxcar, and he needed his horses. First he would learn why the Kansas-Pacific had allowed the use of the etching in a death sentence reward notice. Then he would ride on to Jefferson City, to the state capital. There he would demand that the stateâs attorney general wire the sheriff of Springfield, where the killing of Rusty Limbaugh had taken place. Nathan had acted in self-defense, and since the state hadnât pressed charges, the Limbaugh familyâs reward should put them in violation of the law. Nathan had little doubt he would be vindicated, but that would be small consolation if some bounty hunter gunned him down before the wrong could be righted.
Kansas City, Missouri. April 6, 1873
While Nathan was treated courteously at Kansas-Pacific, the nature of his complaint had him meeting with Miles Herndon, the railroadâs attorney.
âYou must understand,â Herndon said, âthat the Kansas-Pacific had nothing to do with the etching being used in a reward dodger. The Liberty-Tribune created the etching to complement the story the Kansas-Pacific supplied. The etching belongs to the newspaper.â
âYouâre telling me this damn newspaper can use a likeness of me anyway it sees fit,â said Nathan angrily. âEven in an unlawful wanted poster that could get me shot dead.â
âThatâs what it amounts to,â Herndon replied, âand attacking the newspaper will get you exactly nowhere. If this reward has not been sanctioned by the state, then itâs illegal, and as such, could and should be withdrawn. You would do well to contact the stateâs attorney general, requesting that he contact the sheriff in the county where the reward has been posted. If the law agrees you acted in self-defense, then a cease-and-desist order from the attorney general could be served through the county sheriff.â
Nathan left the attorneyâs office, convinced he had been given sound advice. However, he was a hundred and eighty miles west of Jefferson City, and Missouri was teeming with potential bounty hunters who would kill a man for a hell of a lot less than five thousand dollars. He bought a paper, replacing the one he had ripped to shreds. Placing it in his saddlebag, he began the long ride to Jefferson City.
Jefferson City, Missouri. April 10, 1873
âMaâam,â Nathan said, âIâm not here to see an assistant to the attorney general. I want to see the attorney general himself.â
âSorry,â said the prim gray-haired receptionist, âbut the attorney general will see you only if circumstances warrant it. His assistant, Charles Atchison, will make that decision.â
After an impatient half hour, Nathan was shown to Atchisonâs office. He sat with hands clasped, looking at Nathan over the top of his spectacles. Nathan leaned on the desk, the newspaper under his arm.
âMr. Atchison,â he said, as calmly as he could, âI need the help of the attorney general.â
âSo does everybody entering this office,â said Atchison, unruffled. âI suppose you are going to tell me why.â
âI am,â Nathan replied, spreading the page of the