by C. J. Petit
He nodded to a concerned Rachel as he passed. He left out the back door and walked to the barn. He found the tool to repair the fence and whistled Belle over to the barn, put the tool into his saddlebag and mounted quickly. Ten minutes later, Gus arrived at the break and stepped Belle onto the other side of the opening. He repaired the two damaged wires, put the tool back in his saddlebag, and began tracking the cattle. It was an easy trail with that many cattle on soft ground. He guessed that they had been taken in the past five days. He didn’t know whose ranch this land was on, if anyone’s. It could be free graze land, but it wasn’t likely.
As he tracked the cattle, the path took him right along the border of the Star A. So it hadn’t been the neighbors who pilfered the animals. They would have just mixed them with their herd and rebranded their behinds. These boys were on their own.
The trail stopped temporarily at the road to town. He crossed over the road and found it again. It turned southwest toward Kinnick. It was close to noon when he reached the town. The small herd had tracked straight into the holding pens at the railroad stockyards. The pens weren’t big, but they were big enough to handle maybe two hundred head.
He crossed over the tracks to the purchasing agent’s office. This should prove interesting.
He stepped down and walked into the office. The purchasing agent was behind a desk in the back. He was a portly gentleman with a round face and muttonchop whiskers. Too bad none of that hair was growing atop his noggin.
“Can I help you?”
“Name’s Gus Matthews.”
“Caleb Timmons.”
“Mr. Timmons, I just took a job with the Star A. I was doing a head count and came up forty to fifty head short. Owner says he hasn’t sold any in a year, and I found the fence had been cut. Looks like they were moved out in the past week or so, and they trail right to the stockyards. You buy any Star A cattle recently?”
The man dried his upper lip with his hand.
“Let me check my records.”
He pulled out a ledger and made a show of looking.
“No. No, I don’t see any purchases at all in the past two weeks.”
“Well, that settles it. I must be wrong.”
“It seems that way, sir. Good day.”
“I think I’ll mosey over to the railway office and ask to see their shipping logs. Maybe they can help.”
He turned and was immediately stopped by the agent saying, “Just a minute, please.”
Gus turned. “Yes?”
“You must understand. We don’t get many shipments out of here. Anytime we do get some cattle to ship, we must act promptly. Sometimes this means that the brands aren’t verified as well as they should be.”
“Uh-huh. So, what you’re telling me is that someone drove forty to fifty cattle in here a few days ago with the Star A brand on their behinds, and you didn’t have time to check them out.”
“Sort of. You see, they may or may not have been Star A cattle.”
“I could have sworn that part of your job was to be sure that the people selling those animals were authorized to do so. Did you see any papers that gave them that right?”
“There may have been.”
“Any way to you look at it, mister, you are standing in a whole lot of horse manure right now. It won’t be difficult to prove, either. The railroad records and the receiver will show those brands.”
The man was sweating and knew he’d been caught. He had been told that no one would ever check.
“I can’t have that. I won’t.”
“How you figure?”
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll pay sixteen dollars a head for the forty-five cattle that were shipped, and we’ll just forget about the incident. I don’t want to be seen as a thief.”
“That’s nonsense, and you know it. Going price right now is twenty-two dollars a head. I’m in the business of knowing such things.”
“All right. If you just let this go, I’ll write a draft for that amount.”
“I’ll let it go this time, but I don’t want to hear of any more cattle disappearing.”
“No. Of course not. Whose name goes on the draft?”
“Eli Aronson. He owns the Star A.”
“Very well.”
The buyer pulled out his book and wrote out the draft. He handed it to Gus, who blew on it until it was dry. Then he folded it and put it in his shirt pocket.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” Gus growled as he left.
While he was here, he figured he’d do some shopping.
He first went to the livery.
“Morning,” he said to the large black liveryman as he entered.
“Howdy! What can I do for you?”
“Name’s Gus Matthews.” He offered his hand to the liveryman, who gripped it in his bigger, stronger hand.
“Abe Greene.”
“Got any horses available for sale?”
“Sure do. I have six right now. All recently shod, too.”
They walked out to the corral. Gus immediately picked out the best of the lot. A handsome gelding, about six years old. He was a dark chestnut, almost black, with a star on his forehead and white stockings on all four feet and with a black mane and tail. He was too handsome to pull a wagon, though.
“I like the chestnut gelding.”
“You have a good eye. Got him last week.”
But he needed a wagon puller, and he suspected that Charlie was past his ability to do any real work.
“I’ll take that pair of geldings, the brown and the gray.”
“I can let you have them both for sixty dollars.”
“How about fifty-five?”
“I’ll do that.”
“You know, I’m gonna do something stupid, but how much you want for the chestnut gelding?”
“Forty-five.”
“Got any saddles you can let go?”
“I’ll throw in a used set of tack for fifteen dollars.”
“How about an even hundred for the whole package?”
“You drive a hard bargain. I’ll do ’er, but you gotta tell me why you had to buy the gelding.”
“Don’t laugh. It’s just that sometimes I see a horse and look ’em in the eye. If I see something, I can’t let someone else have ’em. That’s how I got Belle.”
“You’re a wise man. That gelding is a great horse.”
“Good enough. Let’s saddle the gelding, and I’ll be back to pick up the other two to trail back after I visit Hanratty’s.”
“I’ll have ’em ready.”
Abe stuck out his hand, and they shook on the deal. Gus counted out the hundred dollars.
They saddled the chestnut gelding, and Abe hooked a trail rope around his bridle. He walked the horse outside, and he saw Belle standing there with her reins hanging down.
“Wow! That is a gorgeous mare!”
“She’s the first one I saw with that look in her eye. She cost me a whole month’s salary and then some a few years ago. Worth every dime, too. She’s as smart as a whip, and I don’t even have to tie her up. She follows me where I go. Watch.”
He looped the gelding’s trail rope around his saddle horn and just walked down the street. Abe laughed heartily as he watched the copper beauty step right in behind Gus as he headed down the road.
Gus smiled and waved at Abe as he continued to the dry goods store.
He walked inside and saw the proprietor with a bandage on his head. He walked up to the counter. He could tell that the man was nervous seeing another stranger.
“Good morning. You must be Mr. Hanratty.”
“I am. I don’t know you, do I?”
“No, sir. I wanted to stop by and apologize for what happened to you yesterday. When I left the Rocking C a few days ago, I had an annoying cowhand follow me. If I had known what he was going to do, I would have shot him without a thought. My name’s Gus Matthews.”
Hanratty’s eyes went wide. “That was the name he gave me.”
“I know. His real name is Louis Feldman. He used mine. Another reason for me to shoot him. He’s everything I despise in a man, Mr. Hanratty. He’s lazy and shiftless. I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be in the area for a while.”
The proprietor stuck out his hand. “John Hanratty, Mr. Matthews.”
Gus shook it and said, “Call me Gus, John.”
John smiled.
“I need to pick up some things.”
Gus hauled up a large sack each of sugar, coffee, flour, and salt as well as some ground pepper. He brought them all up front and selected two panniers. Then he added a large bag of potatoes, some onions, two tins of tomatoes and six of beans, and a basket of eggs, which John kept separate.
“You know, eggs are a lot stronger than folks think. If you keep them tight so they don’t rattle, they’ll be fine. He placed a cloth across the top of the eggs and tied the cloth down. “That should do it.”
As he was tying down the eggs, a tall, very thin man dressed in black entered the store. Gus took him to be an undertaker. He even had a large pointed nose and dark eyes.
“Where are you working, Gus?” John asked.
“Out at the Star A, for Eli Aronson.”
When he said it, Gus heard angry muttering from the undertaker. He turned in that direction and noticed that the undertaker was glaring at him.
“Didn’t mean to cause you distress there, mister,” he offered.
“And who might you be?”
“Name’s Gus Matthews. You the undertaker?” he asked.
He heard John stifle a laugh.
“I am not! I am the Reverend Calvin Quincy of the Kinnick Baptist Church. Are you a good Christian, Mr. Matthews?”
“Honestly? I’m not a good anything, Mr. Quincy.”
“Working with Jesus killers does not sit well with the folks in this town, Mr. Matthews.”
“Then you’ve got me all wrong, Mr. Quincy. I don’t work with any Romans. Mr. Aronson and his wife are Jewish. Just like Jesus, Mary, and Joseph were.”
The reverend opened his mouth to respond, then snapped it shut like a trout catching a fly. He turned on his heels and left the store.
“Sorry to cost you some business, John.”
John laughed and said, “He’ll be back later, but it sure was worth it to watch him get pulled off his high horse. He preaches at everyone, and we’re all destined for hell except for him.”
“Well, if he’s not in hell, then that may be the place to be. He a long-time resident?”
“Nope. Got here about two years ago. He fit in with the congregation right off, too. A real fire-and-brimstone preacher.”
“Don’t have a lot of use for those kinds of preachers. Enough bad things in the here and now; no need to worry about the hereafter.”
“You sound like a regular philosopher, Gus.”
“Just another wrangler, John,” Gus replied as he paid for the order.
They loaded the panniers, and John hooked a rope through them. Gus carried the order out to the new horse and put the panniers across the saddle and tied them down. John brought out the eggs, which he placed into one of the panniers.
“Thanks, John. I’ll be seeing you.”
Gus turned Belle around and walked her back toward the livery. He picked up the other two geldings and led his small herd back to the ranch.
____
Lou was now fifteen miles north of Chadwick and almost to Hendrick. He was grumpy from having slept outside in his bedroll. He had never really even liked most of the bunkhouses he’d slept in. Sleeping outside was something he’d have to avoid.
He wasn’t aware of the telegram that had preceded him to Hendrick. Who sends telegrams for the loss of thirty-eight dollars? He wanted some food, so he headed into town toward the café.
He had ordered his breakfast and was anxiously awaiting its arrival when the sheriff walked in to have his breakfast. The waitress brought Lou his ham and eggs. The sheriff didn’t see Lou as he ate his food. For a man who was on the run, Lou was amazingly unobservant. He hadn’t noticed the arrival of the lawman. Lou finished his food and started to leave. The sheriff glanced up and picked up on the left-handed gun immediately. His eyes rotated quickly to Lou’s face as he left. That man sure met the description of that robber down in Kinnick.
He stood up and followed Lou.
Lou heard the footsteps behind him as he was climbing on his horse.
“Hold up there, mister,” the sheriff barked.
Lou finally noticed that the sheriff was there and quickly turned his horse north and set him to a gallop. The sheriff wasn’t about to shoot a man for a simple store robbery, especially not in town with so many voters as possible innocent victims. He watched as Lou raced out of town then turned back to finish his breakfast.
Lou was terrified. He had figured once he left Kinnick, he’d be done with the law. All he’d gotten was a few bucks, for God’s sake! Then he had a horrible thought. The storekeeper must have died from the thump he’d given him. He’d never done it before, so he’d hit him pretty hard. Why else would a sheriff twenty-five miles away try to grab him? He kept his horse going pretty hard before he turned onto a side road and slowed down. He was a wanted man and a murderer.
____
Gus turned down the access road to the Star A with his led horses and the groceries. Not to mention the sizeable bank draft in his shirt pocket. He rode to the back of the house and took the eggs out of the pannier and walked into the kitchen. Rachel was at the sink. Probably cleaning up after lunch.
“Gus! You’re back so soon. What do you have there?” she asked, eying the basket.
“Eggs. I wound up heading toward town, so I figured you could use some. I picked up some other things, too.”
“Gus, that was very thoughtful, but you shouldn’t have spent your own money.”
“It wasn’t much. Is Eli around? I found out what happened to your cattle.”
“Let me call him.” She shouted, “Eli, Gus is back!”
Eli came walking gingerly down the hallway.
“Back so soon, Gus?”
“Yes, sir. Why don’t you have a seat? Looks like those knees are giving you trouble.”
“They are, along with my hips, back, and just about everything else,” Eli said as he sat.
“Come on over, Rachel. I’ll explain what happened to the cattle.”
She sat down next to Eli.
“I trailed them down the western border. Whose ranch is that, anyway?”
“That’s Joe Miles’s place, the Slash M. Did they take the cattle? I wouldn’t be surprised. He’s been trying to get rid of us for years.”
“No, sir. The rustlers just used his ranch as a highway. The cattle were driven to the railroad stockyards four days ago and sold. They’re probably already in Kansas City by now.”
“So, there’s no way to get them back, is there?”
“No, I’m afraid not. But there is an advantage in not getting them back. If you get them back, it doesn’t help you.” Gus paused. “But you know there are rules about selling cattle. The purchasing agent needs to verify the brands on every animal that goes through and check to make sure that the person selling them is authorized by the owner of the brand to act on his behalf. Now, in the case of the Star A cattle, it seems that the purchasing agent was a bit lax in his following of the rules. I think Mr. Caleb Timmons knew very well that those were rustled cattle, and he probably paid well under the market price of twenty-two dollars a head.”
“I know the sheriff won’t care,” said Eli.
“He doesn’t have to. I pointed out to Mr. Timmons that it would be easy to verify the arrival of Star A cattle on that shipment, and the lack of paperwork would cost him his job. It wasn’t an idle threat, either, by the way. He offered to pay sixteen dollars a head for the forty-five cattle that he bought, but I pointed out that the market price was twenty-two dollars, so if I promised to keep it quiet, he wrote out this.” Gus slid the $990 bank draft acr
oss the table to Eli.
“And I believe you will find that much more useful than forty-five cattle.”
Eli picked up the draft and stared at it. Then he looked up at Rachel and handed it to her. She looked at it and then at Gus.
“This is a lot of money, Gus,” she said.
“So. are things a little brighter now?”