Wilson

WILSON

Who was it that said that a horse is just a dumb mindless brute? He had never been introduced to Wilson, or Willie or Wil, as I sometimes called him, depending on how badly he had teed me off at the time. I don’t believe he ever slept. He was too busy thinking up new ways to torment me or pitch me off whenever I mounted that hurricane deck some folks call a saddle. He was docile enough, letting me get him all rigged up and the cinch tightened. Sometimes he would even take a few placid steps before he exploded. He was forever inventing new tricks and tactics. Once he even took a few steps, and then sat down on his haunches and looked back at me as if asking, “So, what are you going to do now?” He most usually displayed these antics when we were alone. He had little interest in giving anybody else a show. And he knew when the situation warranted a quick get-away. Instead of playing those games, he would lay back his ears and we were off like we were shot out of a cannon. One afternoon, in some sleepy little town, I was in the general store, buying supplies. Some fool came up with the bright idea of robbing the bank next door. He came barreling out of the bank with a sack of money and grabbed the reins of the nearest horse. Unluckily for him, it just happened to be Will. He swung aboard and put the spurs to Will – another bad idea – really bad. Will bounced him around for the better part of a minute, jarring every bone in his body and likely loosening all of his teeth. Then, he pitched the poor fellow some eight feet into the air. He came down flat on his back, knocking all the fellow’sf wind out of him. Will just stood there placidly, watching him gasp for breath.

Now that you know some about Will, I’ll tell you a little bit about myself. Ma and me had a small place some eight miles outside the town of Whitrock, a ways south of Texarkana. She never mentioned anything about pa. I don’t know whether he got sick and died, or maybe somehow got himself killed or just lit out. She never did tell me. Actually, we were pretty well set up. The cabin was pretty fair sized – just one big room. With a bit of patching every now and again, the roof didn’t leak hardly any at all except just in a few places when it came a good blow. Every fall, we would go down to the creek and haul up mud to chink between the logs so it was pretty sung in the winter. We had a mule, Sally, who ma told me had an amazingly good disposition for a mule. We had a plow that did a right fair job. We had a wagon with just one wobbly wheel. There was a smoke house and a barn. We had a boar and a sow that produced enough pigs to keep us enough pork to last us most all year and sometimes some to sell too. We had a milk cow, Betsy, so we usually had milk and butter. We always put in a five-acre crop of corn and raised potatoes and vegetables so we did right well. I could usually bring in a mess of fish whenever I went fishing down at the creek and I would set snares for rabbits or run them down with a stick. We had an old flint lock rifle so I would sometimes bag us a couple squirrels whenever we had powder and shot. I even got us a deer every once and again. So, all in all, we had pretty much all we could ask for. We normally went into town twice and sometimes three times in a year. After corn pulling, there was usually a load we could take in to sell and after hog butchering’s, there was pork to sell too. Nobody lived right close so there was plenty of graze and I could cut all of the hay we needed. That gave us enough cash money to buy the necessities we couldn’t produce ourselves.

I was going on fourteen the winter ma took sick and got the fever and died. I stuck it out until spring but it was awful lonesome out there all by myself. A lot of times I had got aggravated with ma and thought about just picking up and taking out. But with her gone, I sure did miss her. Besides, I had talked some with folks in town and had found out that there was a whole big world out there that needed exploring.

Spring had set in and I was just finishing harrowing the corn patch when a wagon pulled up. There was a couple, a boy near my own age and a younger girl and boy. As we sat to supper, the man allowed to as how my place was right pert and he especially liked the barn. It was something I was proud of myself since I had helped with the building of it. We set to dickering and we struck a deal. During the course of the winter, it had been quite a job but I had done three butchering’s of three hogs each. With what was in the smoke house left over from the previous butchering’s, I allowed that there was over fifteen hundred pounds hanging in there. I had saved back a second sow for breeding too. With two sows, I figured I would have to add on to the smoke house to hold all of the meat. The man, Charlie Dixon, wanted the farm awfully bad but he didn’t have the money to buy it outright. We settled on a deal. We would go to town and he would haul in two-thirds of the pork in for me. That would leave enough to see them over. He had a fair riding horse but no saddle. He would throw in the horse and give me seventy dollars and I would sell him the place on time. He would leave off ten dollars at the bank for me after every corn pulling and ten more whenever he brought in a load of pork to sell after each of the butchering’s every winter. I figured it was a right fair deal for him and for me too. What with my mule and plow and his, he could put in more than twice the corn crop I had been able to. With the extra sow, they might sell way over a ton of pork every year. And now, with two milk cows, his and mine, a heifer calf and a bull, they might get right into the cattle business. With as much milk as the cows would give, if they knew how to make cheeses, there would be that to sell in town too. The pork brought me a hundred and five dollars and Mr. Dixon given me his seventy. We went straight off to the bank to open me an account. There was no way I was walking around carrying that kind of money. We told the banker that Mr. Dixon would be bringing in the rent money to deposit too. Well, there I was, foot loose and fancy free with money in the bank, some in my pocket to jingle and a steady income coming in to boot. I almost felt rich. I had to splurge some. I held back the fifteen dollars and change I had taken out of the baking powder can we had used for a stash and put it into a pouch. I tied the strings around my belt and dropped it down inside my britches. I held out the loose change and it felt nice jingling in my pocket. I strolled around town some and wandered into the general store. There were all sorts of fine stuff in there. They had all sorts of store bought clothes but mine weren’t patched up too much so I didn’t figure on wasting money on new ones. I did end up buying myself two penny sticks of hard candy and a pair of brogans. The holes in the soles of mine had got so big, the patches I slipped inside them kept sliding right out. As I walked out the door, a freighter pulled up with two wagons piled high with goods. The rigs looked awful strange. The freighter drove the lead wagon. The second wagon had no driver. It was trailing on a lead rope. The man was cursing under his breath and mumbling. When he saw me, he shouted, “Hey kid, I’ll give you four bits to unload that trailing wagon. I’ll pull it around back to the loading dock.” I jumped at the chance. I didn’t figure it would take me over two or so hours. I sometimes hired myself out when I had the spare time. It usually brought me two bits or so a whole day according to what kind of work it was and what they could afford to pay. As he pulled up to the loading dock, he said, “You be careful and don’t damage anything. Watson will be out here checking off the goods. Make sure he checks off everything when it comes off the wagon. You can read some, can’t you?” I said, “Yes sir. I read right good and I’m right fair at cyphering too. Ma taught me.” He said, “All right, I’ve got to go looking for a driver. That worthless Frank was drunk laying up with some floozy and I couldn’t find him when I got ready to head out. I just hope he tries asking me for a job sometimes again. I’ll spit right in his face.” I said, “Mister, I can drive a team right good and I have a horse. He’s broke to harness too. He could be a help on hard pulls.” He looked me up and down. He said, “You look a mite young.” I said, “Yes sir, I expect I do but I am a hard worker and I’m strong to boot. I’ve been plowing for over three years so I can handle a team.” He glanced at my old flintlock. “Can you hit anything with that thing?” I said, “Yes sir. I bring in squirrels right regular and a deer every now and again. With no more powder and shot than I usually have, I don’t make it a practice of missing.” He asked, “If it came to it, do you reckon you could shoot a man?” I told him, “They was this fellow robbing from our smoke house. I lowered down on him. Beings it was a dark night and he was running, I reckon I just hit him in the leg. I was reloading but ma told me that since he had dropped the hams and was hobbling off, to just let him go on his way. He waren’t likely to be coming back around there.” I told him, “I’ve got me this here dog, Butch too. You can see, he’s big. And he’s a fighter too. Whenever there’s coyotes about, he goes out after them. He usually comes back in all covered with blood but he don’t hardly ever carry many wounds. At night time, if anything comes close, he sets up a ruckus. That’s usually enough to warn anybody off. They know he’s roused everybody on the place. He’s good at ranging ahead when a person is traveling too. He’ll let you know if there’s anybody on up the trail.” He asked, “What will your folks think about you taking out with me?” I said, “I never knew pa and ma taken the fever last winter and she died. I guess I could say, I’m footloose.” He mulled it over for a bit. “If I was to take you on, you wouldn’t be doing like that worthless Frank and getting drunk and laying up with some floozy and missing on heading out, will you?” I said, “No sir. From what I’ve seen of drunks, that don’t look like no fun at all, with all the puking and everything. I ain’t never been with no floozy and I wouldn’t know how to even iffen I was of a mind to.” He scratched his chin. “All right, I’ll take a chance on you. We’ll shift half the load off from this wagon when you get that one empty. It will be the better part of a week on into Hernando. When we unload there at Cumming’s place, there’s usually corn and pelts we can load out for Fort Burress. Then we’ll head back this way with whatever we can pick up there. I hope I can pick up a load of lumber. It always sells good. It’s going to be some long hard days. I’ll pay you four bits a day and I will supply the food. If you work out, by the time we make it back to here, I’ll raise you to six bits. The round trip should take us somewhere around five weeks.” I began counting in my head. “Four bits a day, that would come to fifteen a month! I think I’m going to like this freighting business.”

Three days out, I noticed one of the mares favoring her harness. As I unhitched that evening, I called Mr. Lewis over. “Look here. She’s got a sore. Do you have some salve? Should I ought to hook my horse in her place for a few days so it can heal?” He said, “Yeah, I suppose we could try your nag and see if he will pull.” I was just the least bit put out by him calling my horse a nag and questioning whether it would pull but I didn’t say nothing, him being the boss and all. By the time we reached Hernando, he was hitching him in the lead. I guess he decided he knew his business after all. He waren’t nothing to look at, a big gangly, hammer headed mousey brown thing. But he was strong and smart and would still be leaning into the traces even after the rest were just slogging along late in the day. Lewis had got awful partial to putting him on the off lead. One day, he told me, “If I had four like him, I could likely get by with two teams on this rig instead of three.” I about busted with pride for my horse.

There was this one mare. Even as young as I was, I could notice that she was lazy in the traces. She went along with the rest of them but you could see she wasn’t straining the traces. On days Lewis would tell me we had some pretty good pulls ahead of us, I would put her on the lead rope behind the wagon as an extra. That’s not to say she waren’t a pretty thing. She was right pert. If some artist was to come by, it would be her he would want to paint a picture of. Since she was usually on a lead rope instead of working, evenings when I went out to see about getting us some fresh meat, I would saddle her up. She was easy to handle and had a nice comfortable gait but I saw right off, she was no stayer. Seeing that I was partial to riding her out on my hunting forays, Lewis had casually asked me a couple times how much boot I would want if we worked up a trade. I had hemmed and hawed and hadn’t given an answer.

Coming from the west, it was a hard pull going up to Hays Mills in the foothills, so the mare trailed on the lead rope. As we passed the livery, I noticed the holster’s son idly watching us pass. He more hung around rather than helped his pa. He was always dressed way too well for a working man. As we passed by, I noticed him paying a lot of attention to the mare on her lead. He even stepped out into the street to get a better look at her. As we unloaded at the general store, he walked over. As he rubbed the mare’s neck, he asked, “What’s the matter with this one that she isn’t in harness?” I replied, “There ain’t nothing the matter with her. We always have an extra so we can switch them out and rest a different one every day. Today’s just her day off.” He said, “Coming up that pull to here, I figured maybe she might not be strong enough to make the pull.” I said, “Naw, she can pull all right. It was just her day off.” I didn’t explain that there was a difference between couldn’t and wouldn’t pull. After the load was off, I pulled the wagon around back and unhitched and let the teams into one of the empty corrals. After that pull, they deserved a little extra grain and some good hay. I saddled the mare and rode off toward the spot we liked to camp, making sure he saw the way she stepped out. By the time I got there, Lewis had unhitched the teams and was rustling up wood for a fire. I took the leads of his teams and headed back toward the corral. In another corral, there was a horse that caught my eye. If there was an uglier horse than mine, it would be this one. It was a hammer headed gray. There was a scar on his hip that looked like he might have tangled with a long horn and there were scars on his shoulder that might have come from a fracas with a mountain lion. I figured this old boy was a survivor for sure. He was well muscled and had the looks like he wouldn’t take any foolishness from anybody. I noticed that he was favoring his right front somewhat. I eased over and dropped a loop over his neck. He wasn’t skittish but seemed wary. I rubbed and petted him a bit to calm him down some. I felt the right front knee some. If a person can probe a knee just right, a horse will flinch a bit, like someone bumping their funny bone. He reacted. Then I lifted the hoof. As I looked, I found a thorn imbedded just near the hoof. From the looks of it, the thing needed to come out right soon or it was likely to give trouble. If something like that was let go and it festered up and turned septic, it could lame a horse. The dandy walked up. “You like his looks?” I said, “Well, he looks somewhat likely but that knee worries me some. He favors it some just walking around. I don’t know how well he would do in a pull.” He said, “Aw, it’s just a bit sore. I figure he bumped it against a corral rail. It should work itself out in a day or so.” I said, “Oh, I don’t know.” We walked up to the horse. I massaged the knee, finding the sensitive spot. He flinched again. I kind of shook my head and walked away. He pointed to the mare. “He’s bigger than that mare and stronger too, I’ll warrant. I do kind of like her looks though. I might consider some sort of a trade.” I noticed a shiny black surrey beneath a shed. I could just picture him thinking about sporting it around behind that black mare with her four white stockings and blazed face. He would make quite a splash for the ladies. He wanted her all right. I said, “Aw, I don’t know. I sure like riding her. She’s got an awful easy gait. Of course, the way she lifts her feet high when she trots, it can scare off game.” He said, “Yes, that could prove a hindrance. That gelding, being bigger and stronger, I figure I could trade for five to boot.” I laughed right out loud. “I reckon you would. The banker down in Markle flats seemed awful interested in her for his surrey. Mr. Lewis told me that she was worth more than thirty-five. He said I should hold out for forty. He said we should let him mull it over until we made it back through there. I’ll just tell you, with me being scared of that knee, I wouldn’t offer a penny more than twenty for that gelding. If he goes lame, I would lose everything I have in him.” As I mounted up, he put his hand on the reins. He said, “This is my final offer. I’ll give you twelve-fifty to boot – not a penny more.” I wheeled the mare and then stopped. I slapped my hat on my thigh. “Mr. Lewis is liable to laugh me right off the hill, but I’ll do it.” When I rode into camp, Lewis looked up and cocked his head. He asked, “What did you do, trade for a lame horse?” I asked him, “Don’t we have some of them Epsom salts? I need to borrow that set of small pliers too.” I lifted the horse’s hoof and tied it off to the pommel to keep it steady. Mr. Lewis held its head and stroked him to keep him calm. I dug at the thorn with my clasp knife until I could get hold of it with the pliers. It came out along with some blood and a bit of puss. He said, “It looks like you got at it just in a nick of time. In a couple days, I figure it would have turned septic. Get a bucket of water. I’ll get the Epsom salts to pour in it.” We rested the stock up for two days. By the time we left out, the gelding wasn’t limping even a little. Mr. Lewis had already offered me ten to boot for my horse so I came out with twenty-two-fifty in the trade. That was near a month’s pay! I was right satisfied with myself. Of course, I was going to have to choose something to ride out on to hunt from.

I fixed it with Lewis so he would pay me whenever we were in Whitrock so I could deposit my pay. I hardly never kept out more than two or three dollars since he provided the food and that was about all I needed. Besides, if something special came up, I could always ask for an advance on my pay. I had thought about replacing my old flint lock with one of them new repeating rifles but since Lewis had a double barrel shotgun for each wagon, I just hadn’t got around to it. Lewis also carried one of those Colt revolving pistols. He had taught me how to shoot it. I thought one of them might bear considering too. A person hardly never seen more than two or three Indians about at a time but there seemed to be getting to be more bandits around than they used to be.

We were four days out of Whitrock, heading toward Bolton with a load of supplies for the general store there. Once we unloaded, we planned on stopping by a hog farmer to load out pork for the post at Sheridan. Butch was ranging ahead like usual. Just at the top of a rise, he stopped with his hackles all up. I didn’t like the looks of that so I eased my shotgun off the floor board and into my lap. Two riders topped the rise, their rifles at ready. The leader said, “Look here Mort. It’s our lucky day. We’ll have ourselves a rich prize here.” Lewis must have gone for his pistol. The leader shouldered his gun toward Lewis. Without thinking, I cut down on him with my shotgun, blowing him right out of the saddle. The second one wheeled his horse, putting the spurs to him. Butch lunged over the rise after him. Within seconds, there came the sounds of growling, barking and screams. We leaped from our wagons, paying no attention to the man on the ground, blown near half in to. Over the rise, the man lay on the ground in a ball, shielding his head with his arms. When we got to him, he must have been bleeding from a dozen places. He screamed, “Get this monster off me.” I pulled Butch off him. He must have tried to pull his gun to shoot Butch. It lay on the ground a few feet away. Lewis jerked him to his feet and relieved him of his gun belt which also held a sheathed knife. He said, “I should blow your head off right here. Get going.” The man asked, “What about my horse and rig?” Lewis said, “We’re sending you off with most of your hide in one piece. Feel lucky about that. Now get going before I sic this dog on you again.” After the man had stumbled off, Lewis tied a rope around the legs of the body and drug it off to a wash. I caught up the horses and Lewis began inspecting the men’s weapons. Lewis said, “You were saying something about getting yourself a pistol and a repeating rifle. Here’s a Colt dragoon and a Smith and Wesson Schofield revolver. If I was you, I’d take the Schofield. It’s maybe just the tad less powerful but it will handle better and it reloads a whole lot faster. The Winchester is a .45 caliber too. That way all your bullets will match. I’ll take the Dragoon and the Spencer. Tie the horses to the tail gate. We need to be getting on along. We’ll figure who gets which horse later.” I strapped the holster around my waist and laid the rifle on the floor board along with the shotgun. By then, I was just turning seventeen. The years of loading freight and working the teams had filled me out and I felt that I was as much a man as any body.

As we pulled into Bolton, I noticed a commotion in the corral behind the livery. Somebody was trying to ride a zebra dun. There was blood running down his sides where the man had raked him with his rowels and wicked looking things they were. The dun went straight up, all four feet leaving the ground higher than I thought a horse could go. He came back down, stiff legged with such a jarring impact, I just knew something had to of got busted. It had to have rattled every bone in the cowboy. In almost the same motion, his front went down and his rear came back off the ground. The cowboy went flying over his head for a dozen feet. The man lay still. I thought maybe he was dead. Then, he began slowly moving his head. Finally, he got stiffly to his feet. He went over to the corral fence and took up a rifle. He walked up to the horse and brought the gun to his shoulder. I don’t know why, and I barely remember doing it. I pulled my gun and fired a shot at his feet, spraying him with dust and dirt. He wheeled toward me. I asked, “Do you aim on killing that horse?” He said, “You’re damned right I am.” I asked him, “Why?” he said, “Cause he’s a monster and ain’t worth shooting.” I asked him, “Then, why shoot him? You’ll be out a horse and it won’t benefit you none a tall. You’ll just have a dead horse to drag off.” He asked, “So just what do you suggest?” I said, “Sell him.” He huffed, “Who in his right mind would pay good money for the likes of him? He can’t be rode.” I said, “I would.” He cocked his head. “That’s a right likely horse you’re riding. Would you trade him for this worthless brute?” I said, “Yep, for eight to boot.” He said, “You’re as crazy as that fool horse. He’ll likely kill you. I’d be doing you a service by just going ahead and shooting him.” I said, “Likely so, but I’ll still trade.”

Well sir, we stripped the saddles off the mounts. I laid mine across the top rail of the corral and taken off walking toward the dun. He let me walk right up to him. I began talking to him as I rubbed his neck. I said, “Well, boy, you given that feller quite a ride. Do you figure on pitching me as high as you did him? You can iffen you want to but it ain’t going to do you no good. I’ll just climb right back on and we’ll just do it all over again.” As I talked and rubbed him, he calmed right down and seemed to understand what I was saying. He didn’t fool me none though. I figured he liked this little game. I didn’t figure him for being mean. Oncet he had throwed that feller, he just stood there as peaceful as you please. I got him saddled up with no trouble at all. He even let me climb aboard. Once I nudged him with my heels – I don’t use spurs – he just exploded. I hadn’t never sat astride a lit stick of dynamite before. He rattled my teeth and every bone in my body. He had some moves that I hadn’t never seen before. I almost came unseated a couple times. After a bit, he seemed to have had his fun. He just stopped and stood there. When I nudged him to get him moving, he moved all right. He taken out so quick he nearly lost me. He headed straight for the fence at a dead run. Cowboys that had been sitting there enjoying the show scattered like a covey of flushed quails getting out of the way. As we got to the fence, he went airborne. I felt like I had sprouted wings. If I hadn’t grabbed the horn, he would have unseated me for sure. He hit the ground on the other side of the fence at a dead run. I’m here to tell you, I ain’t never traveled so fast. He kept this up for the better part of five miles. I just let him have his head. If he kept on at this rate, if he was to throw me, it might take me until the next day to walk back to town. Finally, he slowed to a trot and then to a walk. He wasn’t tired. He was just through running for a bit. I turned him and we trotted back to town just as pretty as you please.

When we got back to camp, I stripped him and rubbed him down good. Lewis asked me, “What was the commotion in town?” I said, “Aw nothing much. Wilson here and me just put on a little show for the boys.” He just nodded and went back to stirring the pot of stew. After supper, as we sat sipping coffee, he said, “There is something I want to talk to you about. This last winter was awfully tough on me. It seemed like I was pretty well stove up most all winter. Cratchet, over in Osborne has been pestering me for a spell to sell out to him. I figure it’s about time I got off the trail. Before I dealt with him, I wanted to talk to you. I know you’ve got some stashed back in that bank back in Whitrock. Before I agreed with him, I wanted to make you an offer first. I’ve saved myself back a bit over the years. Me and the widow Barnes are talking about partnering up. With what I’ve got, we can add on to her café and build on some sleeping rooms to rent out. That, along with the food should do us right well. I would have a roof over my head and with her cooking and all, I just might get right fat.” He winked at me. “And come winter time, somebody warm to snuggle up to wouldn’t be half bad either.”

I had been itchy to see some far-off places for quite a spell. I had always been better than average with the rifle, what with keeping us in fresh meat. I had been practicing up with that Schofield pistol too, and hadn’t shot off any toes, so I figured that was a good sign. I expected I could pretty well take care of myself. I said, “Naw, Wilson here seems to be the rambling kind. I figure we’ll light out and go see the elephant. Beings I’ve got that money stashed in the bank in Whitrock and the steady income from the farm, if I was to get in a bind, I could always wire back for some cash. I want to see them mountains out west and that canyon they tell about on the Colorado. I expect I’ll ramble back through here from time to time. I figure I might sit to supper with you and the widder now and again - so long as the widder keeps you away from the cook stove.” The next morning, Wilson showed me what I was in for every morning. We put on a right good show for Lewis. After a few minutes, he settled down and was ready to get down to the business at hand. Lewis gave me forty dollars for that hammer head of mine that he used for the lead. He paid me my month’s wages and threw in an extra double eagle. He called it a bonus. I outfitted out at the general store and Wilson and me were off for parts unknown. Lewis had handed me a brand new Schofield revolver, just like my other one. He said, “Keep this tucked in your waist band, kind of hid by your vest. If you was to meet up with somebody with mischief on their minds, a little surprise just might come in handy. He presented me with one of his short express shotguns in a saddle scabbard. He said, “One of these might come in handy too. I don’t expect I’ll be needing it.” With all of that, I got a lump in my throat. I wondered if that was what it was like when a boy set off from home and his family was seeing him off. When the widow reached up and hugged me and kissed me on the cheek, I was scared I might break right down and start bawling. With the two pistols, my rifle and the shotgun, I felt armed up like a battalion of cavalry. Wilson liked the trail and wanted to run. I let him have his head for quite a ways before I reined him back in. I wanted that wind across my face. I wanted to believe it was the wind that was stinging my eyes.

It didn’t take me long to figure out that with all my complaining about Lewis’ cooking, he was a whole site better cook than me. Whenever I come into a settlement, I would splurge for a real meal.

I figured I had crossed over into New Mexico territory by a few days when we came upon a likely looking settlement. I figured Wilson might enjoy a few days with some grain after all of that mesquite lately. I got him settled in a stall. On the back wall was a peg I could hang my saddle on and drape my bedroll and saddle bags over. Wilson wouldn’t bother them, especially if he had feed and water, and there was no way he was going to let anybody get past him to pilfer in them. I wasn’t a drinker but Lewis had taught me that a saloon was a likely place to pick up news and sometimes they served a right good meal. I got Wilson all situated and strolled on down the street. Inside the saloon, I walked up to the bar and asked the man for a cup of coffee. Just down the bar, a rough looking customer guffawed, “What’s the matter squirt? Are you not up to a real man’s drink?” I said, “Likely not. I’m more partial to coffee.” He retorted, “Wal, you’re having a drink with me. I’m buying.” I said, “I’m obliged but I don’t drink the stuff. I will buy you a shot though.” He said, “I said I’m buying you a drink and by gawd you’ll drink it if I have to pour it down your gullet.” A man wearing a star strode up and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Just settle down Roy. The boy is trying to be peaceable enough. Now behave yourself.” He looked at me. “Besides the young fellow was just leaving.” I nodded. I had wanted to ask about some food but I expected that there was some other place around town a person could get something to eat. Before I had gone a block, a voice came from behind me. “Hey welp, you wouldn’t drink with me you insulted me. I’m calling you out. The marshal ain’t here now for you to hide behind.” I had about figured on something like this. He was spoiling for a fight and I was handy. I had my hand on the butt of my belly gun as I slowly turned. I said, “Mister, we don’t have to do this.” He shouted an obscenity and grabbed for his gun. I whipped out the Schofield and fired a snap shot. It furrowed his cheek and took off the bottom half of one ear, the concussion nearly knocking him down. I re-cocked my pistol as I shouted, “I could just as easy have put that bullet right through your Adams apple or right betwixt your eyes. You’d best be about your business and get that ear seen to.” He staggered off down the street, I hoped in the direction of a doctor. I had broken down the Schofield and was replacing the spent cartridge when a fellow, looking to be somewhere about my own age walked up. He said, “You don’t carry your gun with the hammer resting on an empty cylinder? That can be dangerous.” I said, “Naw, these Scofield’s, if you pull the hammer back one click, it locks it. You can’t even pull the trigger unless it’s full cocked.” He said, “That was some right fair shooting. Do you consider yourself a shootist?” It seemed to me that he was prodding me just a tad. I said, “Nope, that was just happen chance. I was just lucky that I came anywhere close to him.” He said, “All that you told him, that didn’t sound happenchance to me.” I told him, “I’ve come to find out, when a man comes that close to dying, if a person makes him believe he was just being gracious, like as not, he’ll think twice before trying you a second time.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m William Bonnie. Maybe you’ve heard of me.” I scratched my chin. “No, not that I can recollect.” He continued, “I hear that there’s this range war heating up down in Lincoln county. I’m thinking on ambling off down that way. They’re paying seventy a month for folks that know their business and don’t mind using a gun. I was just thinking you might want to amble off down that way with me.” I said, “That does sound awful tempting but I’m headed up twards Colorado. There’s some folks up that way I want to see.” He said, “Aw, they will still be there once we’ve finished up down in Lincoln county.” I leaned close. I said, “You see, they have this girl, Sarey. She’s awful pert. We were right sweet on each other before they headed off up that way but we were too young back then. If nobody has snatched her up, I hear they have a big spread and lots of cattle. If I can take back up with her, I’d be all set. If things was to work out, if you was to amble up that way sometimes, we could put you up for a spell. It’s the H bar 3.” I didn’t know no family up in Colorado and there waren’t no Sarey and I doubted if there was any H bar 3. I had just mentioned Colorado because I remembered Mr. Lewis telling me that big canyon was up that way. I just wasn’t hankering to get myself mixed up in some range war I didn’t know anything about. Once we were in the middle of it, I might find out that I druther be on the other side. Ottawa

I walked back down to the livery to check on Wilson. The livery man said, “I heard about that rukus with Roy Hargill. He’s always going around spoiling for trouble. You’d better watch yourself though. He’s got two brothers and they’re meaner than snakes. If he goes back out to their place, it wouldn’t surprise me to see the three of them come barreling into town with blood in their eyes. If that was to happen, I expect Billy would likely back you. Y’all looked to be getting right friendly. With all of the shooting, I would hate to see some innocent folks getting hurt though.” I cocked my head. “Billy, who is this Billy you’re talking about and why would he jump in and back me?” He said, “Billy Bonnie, I saw you two talking out in the street and you two seemed to be getting along. They say he’s killed way over a dozen men. They’ve taken to calling him Billy the Kid. I know you’ve heard of him.” I said, “I’m just in from the piney woods area over in east Texas. I don’t recollect ever hearing of him. Anyway, I wouldn’t want somebody else to go jumping right into my fight.” He said, “Mind you, I’m not suggesting anything. I’m just kind of thinking out loud. There’s this Mex cantina a ways out of town. They set a right good table. I go there every now and again myself. They have rooms they let out and they have a stable out back for a person’s horses. Whites don’t go around there hardly ever and the Hargills don’t cotton to Mexes so it’s not likely they would go there. If word was to get out that a feller had been talking with Billy about that Lincoln county fracas down south, iffen he wanted to rest up his horse for the night, that Mex place would be right likely. He could head out early in the morning, say north or west. If the Hargills had notions about tracking him, they would likely try going south.” I told him, “I’ve never been one to run from a fight but I don’t cotton to running right straight into one either. Billy and I did talk some about that fracas down south. Iffen somebody was to ask you, do you reckon you might mention it?” He chuckled, “I’m right sure I would likely let something like that slip.”

I saddled up Wilson and led him out of the livery. The man reached into his pocket to give me my four bits back. I told him, “No, you keep that and here’s another two bits for your help.” I stopped at the general store to supply up. I casually asked the man about the trail toward Lincoln county. I told him, “I’ll be wanting three – no, make that four boxes of Schofield 45’s and four boxes of Colts for my rifle. I’ll need three boxes of twelve gauge buck shot too.” He asked to see my rifle. He inspected it for a bit and then said, “You know, this thing is chambered to take 45-70’s. It will shoot them, the colts and the Schofields too. The 45-70’s will reach out way farther than either of those. It won’t shoot with a .50 Sharps but I’ve heard more than one say they’ve brought down buffalo at well over a quarter mile or better. There’s this one that swears he has dropped a couple at near a half mile but I won’t swear as to how reliable he is. There was this Dixon fellow over Texas way. They say he shot some Indian war chief off his horse at a mile with his Sharps. I read it in a paper.” (it is a well-documented fact. At Adobe Walls, a ways northwest of Amarillo, the post at Adobe Walls was attacked by a band estimated to be near 300 warriors, mostly Apache and Kiowa with a sprinkling of Sioux. The post was defended by thirty men and they were having a bad time of it. the Indians would attack and withdraw out of rifle range and taunt the defenders, hoping to get them to expend precious ammunition. Billy Dixon found himself a good resting place and cranked up the peep sight on his 50-90 Sharps. He shot the chief right off his horse. The Indians thought it was bad medicine and withdrew. They put a marker where the chief had fallen and paced it off. Since then, it has been measured with various devices. The shot is documented as being 1560 yards, less than two hundred yards short of a mile.) I raised my eyebrows. I said, “Make it 45-70’s instead of the Colts then.” He said, “You look like you’re supplying up for a war. Are you thinking about heading down into Lincoln county with Billy?” I told him, “We have talked about it some.” I headed out of town southward at a lope. I figured that would draw enough attention that folks would remember. After two or so miles, I circled wide in the direction of the cantina.

I led Wilson right into the stable and stripped him and got him all situated. They even had some oats I could feed him along with the hay I put out. Inside, I told the man, “I put my horse in the stable. Will my trappings be safe in there?” he chuckled, “Senoir Billy, he stays here and stables his horse. NOBODY will bother anything in there.” I told him I would be heading out early so I wanted a meal that would hold me for a spell and plenty of coffee. Shortly, a cute little waitress brought me a cup and a pot of coffee. By the time I was getting into my second cup, she came back with a plate of tortilla’s, a big bowl of chili, one of mushed up beans and one of rice. She said, “If you mix the chili, the beans and the rice and pour salsa over them, I think you will like them.” By the time I had finished, I figured I might need to loosen my belt a notch. About that time, Billy walked in and took a seat across from me. The waitress brought a cup and filled it for him. He gave her a hug and she flitted off about her business. He leaned close. “Jose’ will have the stove lit around four. There’ll be tortillas’ and juevos rancheros and coffee by four-thirty. We can head out together. I’ll ride behind and cover your tracks. There’s a creek two or so miles out. You can drop off into it and circle to the north road. If the Hargills do try following, they’re not going to want any part of catching up with me. One of these days, don’t you and that little Sarey be surprised if I come a visiting.” I didn’t know it at the time but I wouldn’t have to worry about that. Before he got around to it, him and Pat Garret would have their little set-tee down by Fort Summer.

I dropped off into the creek and circled north. It seemed like a bit over five miles before I came up on the north road. I was just climbing out of the creek when I spotted a dust cloud. It was the early north bound stage. Wilson and me wouldn’t have any trouble staying ahead of it and it would cover our tracks. Mr. Lewis had told me about that, what they were now calling Grand Canyon, so I figured I ought to go and have myself a look-see. I’m here to tell you, I ain’t never seen such a hole in the ground. If a fellow was to fall off that rim, there’s no telling how long it would take him to hit bottom. I happened upon an old Injun. I got down and rustled up a fire for coffee. I offered him some jerky and we sat and palavered for a spell. I asked him what he figured made such a gash in the ground. He told me, “In the long-ago time, there was a great serpent.” He stretched his hand and swept it in a wide arc. He said, “The serpent was always hungry and ate the people.” He struck down with the side of his hand, hitting the ground hard enough to bring up dust. “The great spirit killed the serpent. It caused this,” pointing toward the canyon. He saw that I wasn’t too sure about believing his story. He pointed and said, “Look there.” I followed the pointing finger. Across the canyon, maybe three quarters of a mile, was a rock formation. It looked for all the world like the head of a snake, maybe as big as a cabin. Its mouth was open and it looked like it even had fangs. I got goose bumps and shuddered. The old man just looked at me and nodded. The old man led me on upriver for another couple days to where we could make it down into the ravine. There was a place where we could ford. On the other side, he went down river and I headed on north. I still wanted to see them mountains I had heard about.

As I got closer to Denver, I begun seeing what they were talking about when they told about those mountains. They sure were something to see. I run across some prospectors and they explained to me what it was all about. I figured I would find myself a stream and try my hand at it. After two weeks, I had panned out less than half a tea spoonful of the stuff - if it was really color. By then, I was getting low on supplies and money too. I headed on into Denver and wired Whitrock for fifty dollars. It was the first I had drawn from my account in the year I had been rambling and it made me a little ashamed that I had to. I was talking to an old timer. He said, “It’s getting well on into September. It won’t be long before some snows start flying.” He said that it wasn’t unusual for the snows to get waist high on Paul Bunyan, whoever that was. From the way he talked, the man stood some six ax handles tall. If that was a fact, I didn’t want anything to do with this place once the snows started blowing so I started thinking about heading south. I wondered if I could find that place again where me and the Injun had forded the Colorado.

As I rode along, I came upon a road. I had again got low on supplies and most roads go somewhere, so I headed down it in the direction going mostly the way I was headed. The next day, I came upon a trail leading off to the left. There were tall gateposts with a wood header going between them. Lo and behold, carved on the plank was “H - 3.” I just sat there and looked. I couldn’t help myself. I just had to go and have me a look – see. I rode right up to the ranch house. It was a right fair sized thing. The middle was two stories high and had a wing off to either side. There was a real big barn. I expected that a fellow might park four freight wagons in the middle hall. I noticed a smoke house and two – what looked like bunk houses and probably over a half dozen more out buildings. It was situated in a valley that I couldn’t see the end of. There were horses in a number of corrals and I could see herds of cattle grazing up the valley. The front door opened and a lady stepped out. She was small and thin and had graying hair. She wore a pistol on her hip that looked to weigh likely half as much as she did. She asked, “Can I help you?” I was all flustered. All I could say was, “I – uh-well-uh.” She chuckled and said, “Go ahead and light before you trip on your tongue and fall on your face.” Her name was Sarey but not the one I had described to Billy. She asked, “So what brings you out this way? No, wait. Dinner is about ready. There is a wash bowl and bucket of water on the back porch. Wash up and we’ll talk while we eat.” I asked, “Can I see to my horse first? I depend a lot on him and I like to see him seen after.” She said, “Sure, there’s hay and oats in the barn. When you’re washed up just come right on in. There’s no need in knocking.” When I got inside, a Mexican woman was putting food on the table. There was a pan of corn bread, beans cooked until the soup was thick, potatoes all mushed up with butter and fresh sliced tomatoes along with some meat. Once we were finished, I mentioned, “I can’t remember when I had such a good meal.” She said, “I was asking, what brings you out this way.” I told her, “Back in New Mexico territory, I heard somebody mention something about a H bar 3 ranch up this way. The best I remember, he was saying it was a right pert place. When I passed your gate, the sign brought it back to me. I just thought I would ride up and have a look see. He was right. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a nicer place.” She asked, “So, are you looking for work?” I said, “I reckon maybe so. I’ve never been one to turn down the offer of work.” She asked, “How much do you know about cattle?” I told her, “Not an awful lot. I worked near four years with a freighter. I mostly worked with horses. Mr. Lewis always said I had a knack for them.” She said, “I see you don’t wear spurs.” I told her, “Naw, I’ve never found no need for them. Iffen you train a horse right, you can get him to do most whatever you want him to do with just your heels. That’s all it takes to let him know what you want. The Injuns don’t use spurs and they can do more with a horse than most anybody. I used to buy unbroke horses right along and teach them and then sell them. I made nigh as much at that as my wages.” She said, “I had to let my horse wrangler go. I thought he was way too heavy handed. I caught him beating a filly with a club and told him to pack his trappings. I just spotted Bob riding in. He’s my foreman. Go tell him you’re my new wrangler. He’ll find you a bunk and get you situated.”

The next morning, we were going to go out and bring in a bunch of green and half broke horses from a pasture to start getting them ready for the fall round up. I saddled up Wilson. Being the new hand, a few of them had gathered around. Old Wilson noticed he had an audience so he thought he would give them a show. After some five minutes, he figured he had all of my teeth somewhat loosened and he settled down. One of the hands said, “I sure hope you get them other cayuses gentler than that one.” I got down and patted Wilson on the shoulder and rubbed his neck and told him as to what a fine show he had put on and given him a biscuit I had snuck out of the kitchen. When I mounted back up and we headed out, Miz Sarey was standing on the porch. She said, “I will have to say this much. You can ride.” We brung in a dozen or so head. Most of them waren’t as green as I had expected. It didn’t take long a tall to get them gentled right down. Then the boys taken them out and began practicing them with the cattle. I spent the winter getting a remuda ready for the spring drive. They all seemed to enjoy watching me and Wilson go through our morning contests.

Spring thaw was getting well along. One day a couple wranglers rode in and they were having a confab with Bob. He told me, “It seems that fifty or so head have ambled off. It appears that they were being driven by three or so riders. It looks like we have ourselves some rustlers to contend with.” Me and Bob and four others saddled up and put together outfits. The second day out, we spotted a wisp of smoke. Bob said, “As early as it is, they probably didn’t figure we would discover the loss for a while. I expect they’ve holed up to run the brands. It looks like a box canyon they have them bottled up in.” I said, “Give me two or so hours to see iffen I can sneak around behind them before you go in.” I circled wide and I had to leave Wilson on the rim so I could Injun down the bank. By the time I got close, they had spotted Bob and the boys coming up the canyon. They were huddled up behind some rocks to ambush the boys. At about twenty feet, I cocked both hammers of my greener. They all spun around at the sound. It was the three Hargill brothers. I said, “Roy, you can tell your brothers, with this greener I won’t be able to be particular and just shoot off an ear.” They all three wanted to bring up their guns but that greener made them have second thoughts. That shotgun had them just plain buffaloed. By the time Bob and the boys got there, I had all three of them spread eagled on their bellies.

Sarey called me into the house. She said, “Before they hauled those rustlers off to town, the boys said they did some talking. They said you are an outlaw. They say you are friends with Billy the Kid.” I scratched my head. I said, “Well mam, I reckon they are part right. I ain’t never been no outlaw. You can wire marshal Pat Garret down in New Mexico territory. I did know Billy and I call him a friend. He done me a good deed. True, he is a hard man and dangerous too. And I expect he has likely crossed back and forth over the line of the law. But he always done right by me. I had just rode into town. Roy, the one with the shot off ear, thunk I might be easy pickings and started prodding me. Well, marshal Garret, he got betwixt us and told Roy to behave himself. Well, Roy, he caught me out in the street and called me. He grabbed for his gun and I shot his ear off. He taken off for their place to get his brothers. I ain’t never been one to run from a fight but I couldn’t see the benefit in running headlong into one, especially iffen it was three to one odds. Billy, he offered to side me. Since I was just passing through, I figured I would be just as well off just ambling on out of town before they came back. Billy, he covered my trail and headed them off in a wrong direction so I ambled on up this way.” She giggled, “So you shot his ear off? That must have taken some shooting.” I smiled sheepishly. “Mostly luck but I told him I done it a purpose.” She sent a telegram to New Mexico just so we would have proof positive if it ever came up again. The return telegraph cleared me but it also told of Billy’s death. Hearing about that pained me. Sarey asked me, “If you had been there, what would you have done?” I looked down and scratched my boot in the dirt. I said, “That’s one thing I’m proud I won’t never know.”

Once the grass began to sprout, we began gathering the cattle for the drive to Denver. The rails came on down to Gibson City which was a whole lot closer but there, they didn’t have cattle yards or buyers. I offered to go along on the drive but Miz Sarey told me that since Bob was going, me, being the wrangler foreman, as second in command, I would be needed at the ranch. So, we said goodbye as the wranglers headed out with all in all near six hundred head. I would be busy enough with gentling more horses for the ranch gentled up. In Denver, they would sell off most of the remuda. Near two weeks after the herd had gone, Miss Sarey came to me. She told me, “I have a job for you. Check out that pair of roan trotters and the buck board. I’m sending you into Gibson City. You’ll leave out early tomorrow morning. With the full moon, you should be able to head out around four or so. With those trotters, you should be able to make it not much past noon. If the train is on time, it should pull in near two. You will be picking up my grand daughter, Mary. You can get rooms at the Sonnet House for the night. It will be a fairly easy trip back the next day.” I was flabbergasted. I spluttered, “Miz Sarey, I don’t know nothing about baby sitting. I didn’t even have no younger brothers or sisters.” She chuckled, “She’s not a baby. The girl will soon be turning twenty. She’s been away at school. I grant you, she is a bit headstrong and spoiled. As gentle a hand as you have with the horses, I expect you can pacify her but don’t brook a bunch of foolishness.” I headed out a little extra early and worried all the way to Gibson City.

I got there before the train and backed the buckboard up to the platform. I figured she would have some trunks. I leaned back against a post and waited. The train pulled in and there was just one woman getting off that matched the description Miss Sarey had given me. She was carrying a carpet bag and was followed by a man. He reached for the bag but she pulled it out of his reach. She was saying, “I’ve already asked you nicely to leave me alone.” He reached for her bag again and again she pulled it out of his reach. When he reached for it again, she slapped him, sending him back a step. He raised his hand like he was going to strike her. Well, I just naturally had to step up and clip him on the chin, sending him off the platform into the cinders. He shook his head and reached into his coat. I already had my Schofield out and cocked. I said, “Mister, if you bring a gun out of that coat, you will die where you lay.” That stopped him. I said, “Open that coat so I can see what you’re hiding.” He opened his coat and he had a pistol in some sort of holster that held it below his arm pit. I said, “Very slowly and carefully ease that thing out and pitch it way up under the platform.” I turned to the girl and asked, “Miss Mary? Miss Sarey sent me for you.” She said, “I could have handled him.” I said, “Yes mam, I reckon you likely could have but a lady shouldn’t ought to have to.” The baggage man rolled out a cart loaded with luggage. She pointed out hers and I loaded them onto the buck board. I helped her up into the seat and she said, “Good, now we’re off to the ranch.” I said, “No mam. Miss Sarey said for me to take you to the Sonnet house for the night. We can head out first thing in the morning.” She said, “Oh pshaw, there’s hours of daylight left. I want to head on out now.” I said, “But miss Mary, those horses have already had a long trip. They need to rest some.” She said, “They look fine to me. I want to head on out now.” I said, “But miz Sarey said.” She cut me off. “You will either head this rig toward the ranch or I will walk to the livery and rent myself a horse. You can come on out whenever you wish.” I told her, “Well, I need to stop by the general store first. There’s some things I need to pick up.” I waren’t liking this even a little bit but being she was a boss lady, there warn’t much I could do about it. One thing was for certain. There was no way I was going to drive that team past sundown. No matter what she said, I wouldn’t kill a pair of good horses. I picked up a ground sheet and a couple blankets. I had a skillet and a coffee pot in my saddle bags. I picked up some coffee. The cook had some biscuits and some back strap left over from breakfast so I had him sack them up. I was right aggravated and I had no intention on cooking up a full-fledged meal. I headed out of town at a fast walk. Mary asked, “Is this the fastest these horses will go? I’m anxious to get home.” I said, “It’s the fastest they are going to go. I won’t kill a pair of good horses, no matter what you say.” She grabbed for the buggy whip but I jerked it out of her hand. She had noticed Will on his lead. She said, “That’s a right fair looking horse. I want to ride.” I said, “No mam.” She said, “I will have you know, I am part owner of H bar 3 and I will ride whatever horse I want to.” I said, “No mam, Will there is my own personal horse. It is me that says who rides him and who don’t.” She said, “Well, you just pull this rig over. I can walk faster than we’re going.” I pulled to a stop and she got down. She made a dash for Will and started untying the lead. I jerked the reins out of her hand and tied them to the pommel. I shooed him and he ran off a ways. He would follow along but he wouldn’t let her catch him up. She said, “That does it. You’re fired.” I said, “No mam. It was Miz Sarey that hired me. It will be her that does the firing.” She balled up her fists and taken off stomping down the trail. I followed along just behind her. The slow walk would do the roans some good. After around a half mile, she stopped and stood with her arms crossed. I pulled up beside her and she got on. This time, I didn’t bother to help her up. She sat there for a while, all sullied up. Finally, she said, “You just wait until we get to the ranch. When I tell grand ma the way you’ve treated me, she will fire you and good riddance.” I said, “Yes mam, she might. But firing wouldn’t be near as bad as you getting throwed and hurt and me having to face her and tell her about it.” She said, “I’ll have you know, I’m a fine rider. I don’t get thrown.” I just said, “Yes mam.”

Along near sun down, I spotted a likely camping spot beside a small stream. I unhitched the team and picketed them so they could get to graze and water. Then I hobbled them close so they could just take small steps. Mary asked, “Why are you hobbling those two?” I explained, “Iffen somebody was to be able to sneak up during the night, they would likely cut the leads. With them hobbled like that, they wouldn’t get too far.” I stripped Will and rubbed him down. I put him on a picket but didn’t drive the pin in far. He could pull it out if he was a mind. She asked, “Aren’t you going to hobble him too?” I said, “He don’t need it.” She asked, “What if someone took him?” I said, “Iffen they was foolish enough to try, it would be their bad luck.” I built a small fire and put on some coffee to boil. I said, “There’s biscuits and back strap in that sack.”

After we finished eating, I gathered up a bit of brush and arranged it fairly close to the fire. I covered it with a blanket and fluffed it up so it would look like somebody rolled in his bedroll. I pulled off my boots and set them beside it and pulled on my moccasins. I eased back off a ways and laid out our bedrolls. She said, “I don’t think I am comfortable, us sleeping that close together.” I told her, “Iffen some varmint was to creep close, I want you close enough I know just where you are and can shake you awake.” She said, “You certainly are overly cautious.” I said, “Yes mam but I’m still alive and I still have my scalp.” As it started getting dusky, I got up to bank the fire. Mary said, “Let it burn for a while. I just love watching a camp fire.” I let it burn for near another hour before I banked it.

Along near midnight, Will stamped a foot and snorted lightly. I reached over and touched Mary. She jerked but had the presence of mind to stay quiet. I whispered, “They’s something out there.” By the star light, I could see Will looking toward a copse of trees with his ears pricked. When he flared his nostrils, I knew they were coming close. At a whisper, but loud enough it would carry, I said, “Charlie, are you awake? Wake up, you fool. There’s something out there. See where Will’s looking? Take that greener and send a couple shots that way.” I let go one barrel and then the other. I could hear the sounds of somebody retreating. Shortly, there were the sounds in the distance of horses moving away. Mary asked, “Do you think you hit them?” I said, “Naw, I shot high. That buckshot clipping branches above them gave them pause. Iffen they hadn’t of skedaddled, I would of lowered my aim and got serious.” She cocked her head and asked, “So now, I’m Charlie?” I said, “Well, I figured that would carry more weight than saying, “Wake up miss Mary.”

The next morning, I built up the fire and put on some coffee. I put a dab of lard in the skillet and heated up the back strap a bit. I cut the biscuits in half and laid them in the leavings to fry them up a bit too. While Mary was finishing her breakfast, I hitched up the roans. I saddled up Will and lead him to a clear spot. He figured I wanted to put on a show so he gave it a good job. He liked to of unseated me a couple times. When I got down, I patted his shoulder and rubbed his neck. I pulled a biscuit out of my pocket and let him nibble it out of my hand and told him what a good job he had done. Mary was sitting there with her mouth all agape. She said, “That monster! He could have hurt you. You could beat that meanness out of him.” I said, “No mam, yes mam and no mam.” She asked, “WHAT?” I said, “No mam, he ain’t no monster. Yes mam he might have throwed me. No mam, there ain’t no meanness in him. Did you see him nibble that biscuit right out of my hand? He had a chance to try kicking me but he didn’t. We was just getting our morning exercise.”

When we headed on toward the ranch, she sat all quiet like maybe she was doing some thinking. When we pulled up into the ranch yard, I didn’t even have the brake set before Mary was off and running up to Miz Sarey. After a while of hugging, Sarey held her at an arm’s length. She asked, “How on earth did you get here so early? Didn’t you stay at the Sonnet House like I said?” Mary said, “Oh grandma, I was so anxious to get here, I had him to head us right out.” Sarey almost shouted, “Girl, don’t you have a lick of sense? Those horses had already made a long hard trip. Didn’t you have any consideration for them?” She turned to me. “And you, I expected more out of you. You shouldn’t have let her talk you into such foolishness. If one of those horses comes up lame, I’ll be taking it out of your pay.” I just stood there looking at my boots and didn’t say nothing. I made myself scarce around the ranch house for a couple of days. I figured Miss Sarey would likely be having some more to say to me.

A few days later, Mary came to me. She said, “Saddle up Queenie for me. I want to go for a ride.” They had told me about her black filly. She had bought her back in Kentucky where she was going to school and had her shipped out to the ranch. She was Mary’s pride and joy. As I was saddling the filly, Miss Sarey came out. She said, “I expect you should ride out with her. As foolish as she can be, she’s apt to find a way to get herself into trouble. No matter what she says, don’t you brook any foolishness from that girl, you hear?”

I let her lead the way, staying back a bit and off to the side. We came upon a long set of flats. Suddenly, she whipped the black into a hard run. I kneed Wilson and said, “Come on boy. Let’s go after her.” It taken us near a quarter mile to catch up. After that, for over a mile, it was neck and neck. Finally, she pulled up. She said, “You were holding him back, weren’t you?” I just scratched my head. “Aw, naw.” She said, “We need to get something straight right here and now. You can be mean to me and not do what I tell you and tell grandma on me. But you will never curse in my presence. You will never raise a hand to me and you will never lie to me.” I just sat there with my mouth open, shaking my head like it might come unhinged. “No mam, I wouldn’t never.” She pointed a finger at me. She said, “You just lied to me. You were holding him back. I could tell.” I blushed and said, “Well, maybe just a mite.” She said, “I spotted Queenie in Louisville at the horse races. Those were all thorobreds. She had never been beaten. I just had to have her. It took me a big part of my savings to buy her and ship her back here. We’ll let them blow for a bit then we’ll head back. I had just better not catch you holding him back. I want to know just how much faster he is.” We took off at an even start. After a mile and a half, I stopped and turned to let her catch up. She said, “Sir, that sir is a horse!”

We were walking the horses, letting them catch their breaths. Will was back down to steady breathing but the black was still panting some. Something slammed into my chest knocking me from the saddle. I thought I heard a gun-shot. Mary came flying off her horse to me. I was having a hard time getting my breath but I grimaced. “Take Will. He’ll get you back to the house. Lean low. They will never catch you.” She said, “I’m not leaving you!” I said, “Get me my rifle. If you don’t get back and get me some help, I’ll lay here and bleed to death. Now go!” She handed me my rifle and mounted and was off. I worked my way onto my belly and waited. There were three of them. They were coming from some hills they had ambushed me from. I lay still and waited. They would have to come check that I was dead. At two hundred yards, I knocked one of them out of the saddle. The other two wheeled and were just topping arise when I got the second one. The third one was at a dead run. I was having a hard time focusing but I finally took a good bead. I had no more than seen him fly out of the saddle when everything went fuzzy and then black.

I woke up, laying on something soft. Once my eyes somewhat cleared, I looked over to see Mary sitting in a chair. She saw me stir and came over to the bed. All I could do was say, “Wa – water.” I must have drunk near a bucket full of the stuff. Miss Sarey came in. she said, “You were in a bad way there for a while. Billy near killed two good horses switching off, getting to town for the doc. He’s saying you will likely pull through.” I tried to chuckle but it hurt too bad. I asked, “If they end up lame, are you taking it out of my pay?” The next day, Bob came to see me. He said, “It was the Hargills. They had broke out of jail. They won’t be breaking back out unless they can dig straight up through six feet of dirt. You know, I never did think much of those new-fangled Veneer sights. That last one fell near a half mile off from you. Maybe there’s something to be said for them after all.” I said, “Aw, he likely rode a quarter mile after I hit him.” He said, “I don’t reckon so. He had a hole in his chest where the slug came out you could poke your fist through. When I make it into Gibson City, I’m figuring on seeing if Roberts has one of those 45-70’s I can trade for.”

When Miss Sarey came in, I told her, “I’m awful sorry to be such a bother. If a couple of the boys will help get me back to the bunk house, I should be up and around in two or three days. There are ponies that need seeing to.” She said, “You are staying right where you are so we can see to your doctoring. I expect it will be quite a bit more than any two or three days too.” Mary told me, “It was some over six miles back to the house. That Will never broke stride. When they got the roans hitched to the buck board, grandma had her doctoring bag and hopped in. Will wouldn’t have it any other way than for me to ride him and lead them back to you. I’ve got to tell you, that trip back from Gibson City didn’t hurt those roans a bit. And they can go at a whole lot better than a trot too.”

It took me a while but by mid-summer, I figured I was fit as I had ever been. Miss Sarey called me into the house. She said, “I have dealt with a man about some pure-blooded breed bulls. They are wider and carry a lots more beef on their frames than these rangy things we raise. Up in Denver at the stock yards, they have put in scales. They’ve begun buying beef by the pound rather than by the head. I think it can make us quite a bit more money. The reason I asked you in here is, I’m sending Mary to make the deal. This fellow is down south of Texarkana. A person can take the trains all the way to Texarkana and ship the bulls back from there. It’s less than a hundred miles on down to his place. I want you to go with her. I know she’s plenty smart enough but I’ve known of people who would try to take advantage of a woman. I think a male presence would carry a bit more weight. Also, isn’t your place down near there? It would give you a chance to stop by and check on it.” After we had finished, Mary followed me out. She was all in a huff. She looked spitefully at me and said, “I don’t need any baby sitter. I can handle this very well by myself. I don’t need you the least bit.” I told her, “Hold on, this wasn’t my idea. I didn’t even know anything about it til just now when she called me in. I expect you would be better off talking to her about it instead of giving me grief.” She retorted, “I didn’t hear you arguing too strongly about it.” I asked her, “What would you have had me to do? Tell her I just won’t go?” She kicked the dirt but didn’t say nothing.

It taken her most of the way to Texarkana to start getting out of her foul mood. In Texarkana, we rented a buckboard to drive down to the ranch. We had to go right past Whitrock so I asked her if it would be all right to stop off in town and then go out by my place. She was still just a bit testy. She said, “Sure, I would love to have a look at your grand holdings.” I stopped off by the bank. Mr. Morris took me into his office. He showed me the ledgers. My mouth fell open in amazement. Over the years, I had deposited my earnings from Mr. Lewis. I had also sent money when I traded or sold horses and the tenants had deposited their rent. My account had grown to over twenty-nine hundred dollars! Mr. Morris told me, “There is a situation. Last fall, there was an epidemic of swine fever. It wiped a number of folks out. It took out your tenant’s whole drove. He didn’t have anything to butcher so he couldn’t make his winter payments. I’m afraid they are in pretty dire straits.” We stopped in the café to see Mr. Lewis and his wife. Of course, we were all tickled to see each other. The conversation got around to the pigs. He took us to a table where a man was sitting. It was Mr. Dean, the veterinarian. He said, “Yes, it was a catastrophe. It ruined a lot of people. Your tenant, Mr. Blake, called me out. He had traded for a new boar. It turned out to be infected. We had to destroy his whole passel.” I asked where a person might buy breeding stock. He said, “Mr. Wilson, out west of town, has a good sized operation. Thankfully, he was spared. I’m sure he has some he would sell.” Mary was all anxious to get on and see the breed bulls but I told her to just hold her horses. I had business I had to attend to. We drove the rig out to see Wilson. I dealt with him for four sows he assured me were bred. I also bought a young boar that would soon be big enough to breed. I bought three shoats that would be topped out by cold weather and a hundred pounds of pork and a bucket of lard.

When we drove out to the place, the family was out in the yard making hominy. He looked up at us with a worried look. With his hat in his hands, he asked, “Are you here to put us out?” I said, “No, it’s nothing like that. We have business down by Murphyville and thought we would stop by. You have really fixed the place up. I see you’ve added on to the house too. That corn crop is looking good.” He said, “When the corn comes in, I will pay you every penny I can. I guess you heard about the hogs. If you’ll let us stay on, I’ll do everything I can to catch up.” He looked up with a worried look when we heard the wagon coming. Instead of the load of hogs, I expect he was afraid it was new tenants coming. We got all of the pigs unloaded. I took him off to the side. I told him, “I want to make a change in the rent. You say you usually haul in five or so wagons of corn. I want to rig it so you pay three dollars a load. Good years, it will come to a little more than the ten you now pay but in bad years, it won’t cost you so much. As to the pigs, whenever you take in a load of meat to sell, I figure a penny a pound for me should be fair.” I thought I noticed his eyes get just a bit misty. When we were getting ready to leave, his wife took Mary off to the side. She spoke low but I heard her tell Mary, “You’ve got yourself a good man there.”

When we got down to Murphyville, we were in for a surprise. It seems that the man had driven a herd of steers up to Texarkana and sold them. He went into a saloon to celebrate and got all drunk. A couple of shysters had got him into a poker game and fleeced him for his entire poke. He accused them of cheating and pulled his gun. In the fracas, he got himself killed. With nothing to pay the note with, they were auctioning off his holdings. We went to see the banker. We told him we had already dealt to buy breed bulls. He said, “I am afraid there is nothing I can do. The auction is all set and the advertisements have gone out. All of the livestock will be sold in one lot and then the property and equipment will be sold in another.” After we left the bank, Mary was nearly in tears. She asked, “What are we going to do now?” I told her, “First, we are going to the telegraph office. Wire your bank and see how much they will advance you.” She asked, “Why?” I said, “Please just bear with me. Everything could work its self out. Next, we need to get off to somewhere private. Get your self some paper and pencils.” After a lot of scribbling and figuring, we drove out to the ranch. The foreman had been kept on until all of the business was attended to. He turned out to be an agreeable sort of fellow. He let us borrow a couple of horses to ride out on and even went out with us to show us around. The beef were really big and stocky – not the long rangy stuff like we ran. And I liked their coats too. They looked like they would winter well in Colorado. He estimated the weights of the heifers, bulls and calves. He said that steers would go quite a bit bigger than the bulls. He even let us use a little one room shack to stay in. Mary told me, “I don’t know how proper it would look with the two of us staying in the shack.” I told her, “It wouldn’t look any more improper than us rolling out our bedrolls right close on the trail. And how about you sitting right there in that chair beside my bed when I was laid up.” She said, “Yes but you were in no shape to get fresh.” I told her that I could roll out my bedroll outside the door. She allowed that it would be all right for me to roll out my bedroll on the floor. After four days of looking over the herd, we headed back into town and I sent a number more telegrams back and forth to Texarkana.

At the auction, there were quite a few bidders. It didn’t take long to see that there were only two serious bidders. They bumped each other back and forth. The one dropped out at seventeen thousand-five hundred. The other one stood there with a big grin on his face. I nudged Mary. “It’s your turn.” She bid eighteen thousand and everybody in the crowd turned to look at her. I had told her, “Just as soon as he bids, don’t wait, even a second. Bump him right back - five hundred dollars. Make him think you are going to buy the herd, no matter what it costs.” Everybody knew that me and her were together. They didn’t know just what to make of these two out of town strangers. They had been bumping the bids by a hundred a hit. This five hundred dollar bump took them somewhat aback. The man stared at her and said, “Eighteen – two.” She fired right back, “Nineteen.” I was so proud of the girl I was about to bust. The man hesitated a bit and then said, “Nineteen-two.” She fired back, “Twenty.” The man stomped around for a bit. Then he shouted, “Twenty thousand – five hundred. Not a penny more.” Mary was looking at me, all scared. Twenty thousand was all her bank would advance her. I raised my hat and shouted, “Twenty-one.” She dug her finger nails into my arm. The man cursed and stomped off. She leaned close and whispered, “I don’t have but twenty. What are we going to do?” I wrote her out a check for a elven hundred dollars and guided her up to the desk. I said, “Pay the man dear.”

The foreman was agreeable to go with us to drive the herd to Texarkana. He told us that most of the hands hadn’t yet found work so he could round us up a crew. The terms of the sale was for all the livestock on the place. There were enough horses to make a remuda and he allowed that we could likely sell them off in Texarkana. It took just over a week to get the herd rounded up for the drive. Since it should only take ten or twelve days, we loaded food and cooking gear on the buck board for a makeshift chuckwagon. The foreman, Wilbur told us, “There’s this one young fellow I would like to take. He’s my nephew. He doesn’t know a whole lot about wrangling but he’s a good roustabout. He can drive the chuckwagon and help out your missus with the cooking.” Mary shot me a glare and I just shrugged. Off to the side, I told her, “If they think we are a couple, nobody will be as apt to try making advances. A single woman on a drive might tend to give some folks thoughts.” She put her arm around my waist and said, “Aw honey, you aren’t the jealous type, are you?” and then went skipping off before I could think of anything to say.

We were camped for the night just out from Whitrock. Wilbur came to me. He said, “The remuda is working out well. There is those two over there. They’re good draft horses and are big and strong but they don’t know a thing about herding cattle. None of the boys want to ride them.” I said, “I’ve noticed that too. Cut them out and picket them off to their selves. I believe I noticed five or six heifers have dropped calves since we headed out too.” He said, “Yes, I doubt if they will be able to keep up. It might be a kindness to take them out into the bush and knock them in the head. They won’t bring a penny in Texarkana anyway.” I said, “No, cut out their mothers. The calves will follow them. You will need to cut out a young bull that will come of age by next spring too.” I was giving him directions to the farm when Mary walked up. She said, “I can lead the two horses and show him the way. That will free him up to herd the heifers and their calves and the bull. We should be able to catch back up before you camp tomorrow evening.” After he had gone, she elbowed me in the ribs, “You aren’t nearly the hard case you try to pretend to be.” I just shrugged. “It’s a business proposition. Two of those calves are heifers. In a year or so, he will have eight more breeders. I get a penny a pound for all the meat he sells.” She said, “Ok, sure.” and walked off.

Either Wilbur or me ranged well ahead. We would let the herd graze for an hour at nooning and even if it made for a short day, we made sure there was plenty water and graze every night. This added a couple days to the drive but even with the traveling, they looked like they were putting on a little weight. I rode on ahead into Texarkana and met with the buyer and arranged for corrals. We cut out all of the bulls and hazed them into a paddock. Along with them, we put in twenty heifers that were trailing fair sized calves. When Mary asked me about this, I told her. “Half of those calves are bulls. We’re going to need more than those fifty-eight. They should come of age in a bit over a year. With those pure blooded heifers, we will be producing pure blooded bulls right along. I figure that in time, when people see the benefit in them, we might get a market for breed bulls.” When Mary had rejoined us, she was skipping like she was on top of the world. She ran right up and hugged me. She said, “Oh, I just wish you could have been there. When I gave them those cattle, there wasn’t a dry eye among them. Every one of them had to hug me.” She giggled, “You know that young Caleb. He looks to be about thirteen or so. He was bashful about hugging me. I kissed him on the forehead. He turned around and walked straight into a gate post.” I said, “It don’t surprise me none. You know, you are a hansom woman. It wouldn’t take you much to turn a fellow’s head.” She cocked her head, “Do I turn your head too?” I held my hat at my chest, “Why Miss Mary mam, iffen you wudn’t my boss lady, I would be camped out right on your door step.” With a wry smile, she said, “Well then, maybe I should just fire you.” I said, “You can’t. I now have an investment in the place.” She came back, “Well, I could just buy you out.” I asked “What if I don’t want to sell?”

They ran the cattle across the scales. The final tally came to thirty-two thousand-seven hundred dollars! Mary was beside herself. She said, “Hey, I just thought of something. With all that’s been going on, I haven’t been in touch with grandma. If she happens to go into town and finds out that we spent twenty thousand dollars, she’ll have a heart attack.” Then she giggled, “Either that or think we grabbed the money and eloped.” I said, “She might figure that is a cheap price for getting rid of you.” When she hit me in the chest, I hadn’t realized she packed so much power in her punch. I grabbed my chest and staggered back, “OOOH, my wound!” First, she looked alarmed but quickly recovered. “Oh, you’re fooling with me.” I smiled and said, “Just a mite.”

We telegraphed Miss Sarey and brought her up to date on all the happenings. I told her that it would be worth the expense to hire carpenters to build ramps at the Gibson City depot to unload our cattle. She should put the wranglers to rounding up all of her bulls. I didn’t want those ornery old long horns to have the chance to molest these more docile bulls that didn’t have those deadly long horns to defend themselves. If they could have them gathered outside Gibson city when we arrived, when we offloaded our cattle, they could be loaded into the cars for transport on up to Denver to the stock yards for sale. That would eliminate the need for that more than three-week drive to take the long horns and the same drive bringing the new acquisitions back to the ranch. On top of that, the ramps would be there whenever we wanted to ship cattle – only a three-day drive from the ranch.

The train trip back to Gibson City was way more pleasant than the south bound one had been, what with Miss Mary sulking most of the way. At every water stop, I got out and checked on the cattle, making sure they had feed and water. One evening, we sat in the dining car. Most everyone had already left and we were mostly alone. She said, “There’s something I want to say. I want to apologize. I was way too hard on you on the trip south. I know it wasn’t your idea to accompany me on this trip but I am glad you did. There is no way I could have pulled it off without you. I don’t mean just the money. I would have never thought about checking the market in Texarkana and buying the whole herd. Even if I had, I wouldn’t have had the nerve.” When we got up to leave, she grabbed me around the neck and kissed me – right on the mouth! When I walked her back to her compartment, she unlocked her door. She turned back to me and kissed me again. This time, I kissed her back.

We pulled in to Gibson City and found that they had built the cattle ramps – two of them. They must of done some measuring because they were spaced just right so two cars could be unloaded at a time. We could have crammed them in tighter but since most of the cars were empty, what with going up to Denver to load out with cattle, we had spread our critters out into half a dozen cars. All of our cowboys were there and waiting. It didn’t take them no time at all to get ours off and the longhorns all loaded up. Bob allowed that he would ride the train on up to Denver so he could oversee the sale. When we drove the herd up to the ranch, Miss Sarey just stood there with her hands on her hips, a looking. Maria had a fine meal a waiting for us. Miss Sarey allowed, “As wide and muscled up as those critters are, if their offspring keep that trait and they get some of the length from the longhorns, the steers might weigh out over a quarter more than what we’ve been shipping.” Mary told her, “You should have seen the steers. They’re even bigger. We had the boys to cut out four and weigh them separately. They averaged two thousand pounds!”

That winter, Miss Sarey gotten sick and took to bed. It just seemed to linger on. The doctor couldn’t find anything special wrong with her. He allowed that with luck, she might work out of it but it worried us. One day, she called Mary and me in to see her. She told us, “There’s no telling whether or not I will recover. I’ve been doing some thinking. Watching you two, it reminds me of two fine, high bred horses in double harness. I know, even with your squabbling, you get along with each other better than you like to let on. Why don’t you two just go on ahead and get married? Before I die, It sure would comfort me have some great grandchildren to bounce on my knee.” Mary and me looked at each other. I said, “I’m willing if she is.” Mary said, “Well, I’m not willing. There’s no way I’m marrying you unless you propose proper.” She even made me get down one knee and everything. It seemed like magic. Miss Sarey perked right back up so quick I almost wondered just how sick she had been in the first place. She did live long enough to bounce five great grandchildren on her knee and set about spoiling them as best she could.