“Whaddaya reckon Ansel might say about that?” Moon asked. “I thought you boys wanted to stay hid.”
“I ain’t in the habit of askin’ Ansel if I can do somethin’ or not,” Bo immediately flared. “If I take a notion to do somethin’, I don’t reckon I gotta ask anybody.” He paused to consider that. “You said there wasn’t no law anywhere around that store, right?” When Tom said that was so, Bo went on. “Then there ain’t no reason not to go, as long as I don’t lead anybody back here. You wanna go with me to show me the way?”
“Sure,” Tom said. “I’ll take you to Brinker’s. When you wanna go?”
“Hell, tomorrow’s as good a day as any, after breakfast, but not too soon after breakfast. I got a feelin’ I’m gonna wanna sleep a little of this whiskey off in the mornin’.” He looked over at Moon then. “How ’bout you, Moon, you wanna go with us?”
“Sounds temptin’,” Moon replied, “but I reckon not. I’ve gotta get back to my camp and make sure ain’t nothin’ been nosin’ around in it.”
* * *
Will was up with the first rays of light that crept through the branches of the cottonwoods along the Washita River and he wasted little time in packing up his camp and saddling his horses. Moon had told him he would not return until after breakfast, and he guessed that wouldn’t be very early, but he didn’t want to take a chance on missing him. He toyed with the idea of bringing his campfire back to life just long enough to boil a cup of coffee, but decided against it. When his horses were ready, he climbed up into the saddle and rode back down the river to a spot he had picked out the night before. About fifty yards downstream from the rock that marked the mouth of Grassy Creek on the opposite bank, he dismounted and led the horses back into the trees before returning close to the bank. He sat down with his back against a cottonwood, where he could see anyone coming down the creek to the river. A low mist hovered over the river, giving it a peaceful feeling. He might have enjoyed it had it not been for knowing what lay a hundred yards or so up that creek. Suddenly, the form of a horse and rider appeared in the mist. In a matter of moments, it took on the solid form familiar to him. It was Oscar, riding along the river now, leading his packhorse behind him. Will got to his feet and waited a few seconds to make sure Moon was alone, and when no one came out of the creek after him, Will returned to his horses. He guided Buster out along the riverbank, where Moon could see them. When he did, he signaled with a wave of his arm, directing Will to ride farther downstream. After riding about two hundred yards, Moon drove his horses across to join him.
“We was right,” Moon said upon dismounting. “Them’s your bank robbers up there, all right. Ansel Beaudry’s the big dog and he’s got a couple of dangerous-lookin’ gunmen with him, name of Bo Hagen and Luther Curry. Listenin’ to ’em talkin’, I think they was in prison with him. The other two—well, you know Tom Daly—and a little feller name of Cecil Cox.”
Will couldn’t help laughing. “Well, Moon, you did a helluva job. I’d best write those names down, else I’ll forget ’em before I get back in the saddle.” He got a piece of a paper sack and a stubby pencil from his saddlebags and asked Moon to repeat the names.
After Will wrote the names down and put them away in his saddlebag, Oscar scratched his chin whiskers thoughtfully. “That ain’t all,” he said. “There’s somethin’ else that might catch your interest.” Then he reported the conversation he had heard the night before between two of the outlaws. “So that’s what they decided they was gonna do,” Moon summed up. “Tom Daly is gonna take this Bo Hagen feller over in Texas to Tyler Brinker’s tradin’ post.” He paused to give Will an impish grin. “Course, you ain’t got no authority in Texas, but I s’pose that don’t make no difference to you, does it?”
“Not a whole lot, for a fact,” Will answered. His mind was galloping. His job was to find Ansel Beaudry’s hideout and lead a posse to arrest him and his gang, but this surprising piece of news offered an opportunity to make an arrest right away of two of the gang. As he and Moon had speculated, with all the time and distance hampering the arrest, by the time a posse was formed, it might be too late to capture any of the gang. He didn’t have to deliberate long. “When are they goin’?” he asked, and Moon said after breakfast. He also told him that it was possible that Bo would change his mind about leaving Grassy Creek when Beaudry found out what he was planning.
“Ain’t no doubt, Beaudry’s the boss,” Moon repeated, “but Bo Hagen ain’t the kind of man that lets people tell him what he can and can’t do.”
“This might be the only chance to arrest any of that gang,” Will said, “so I reckon that’s what I’ll try to do.”
“That’s what I figured you’d say,” Moon said, “so that’s the reason I had you ride down the river a piece. When Tom and that Hagen feller come outta Grassy Creek, they’re gonna ride down this way about fifty yards. Then they’re gonna take a little game trail up over the rise to the west.” He pointed to a spot upstream by a dead tree, even though the trail was not easily seen due to the overgrowth of bushes. Will nodded and Moon continued. “That game trail will cross an old Injun trail to the Canadian River, and that trail will lead you to Brinker’s place if you stay on it. I figure you’re gonna have to trail ’em a pretty good ways before you make a move on ’em, so if there’s some shootin’, you’ll be far enough away that they won’t hear it back at Grassy Creek.”
“You figure right,” Will said. “That’s just exactly what I’m aimin’ to do.” There was nothing to do now but wait to see if Bo Hagen was going to show up. Judging by Moon’s impression of Ansel Beaudry and his obvious position as the boss, Bo Hagen’s boastful claims that no man told him what to do might just be the whiskey talking. “What are you figurin’ on doin’ now?” Will asked. “You gonna take off for home?”
Moon hesitated for a moment before answering, not sure if Will was going to ask for his help in capturing Hagen and Daly. “Well . . .” he drew out, “I expect I at least oughta wait till we see if they show up to take the trail to Brinker’s. I was figurin’ on headin’ back to my camp up on the Canadian today. I don’t really have no business here right now with Elmira, and I’ve got some things that need took care of at my camp.”
Will couldn’t help being amused by Moon’s predicament, and he understood it. Moon considered Will a friend, but he couldn’t afford to have the people he routinely dealt with know that. If word got out that he helped a deputy marshal capture a couple of outlaws, it would be too dangerous for him to show his face in this part of the territory. He decided to relieve Moon’s anxiety. “I think it’s best if you’re not seen with me. You’ve been a helluva lotta help to me on more than one occasion and I’d hate to mess that up. This ain’t the first time I’ve had to arrest two or more outlaws at the same time. And after I arrest ’em, they might get word back to their friends that you helped me, so it’s best you don’t lend a hand.”
“I see what you’re sayin’,” Moon responded eagerly. “It might keep me from helpin’ you down the road sometime. I’ll do what you say. I’ll keep outta the way.” Sometimes his friendship with the young lawman bothered Moon. Although he didn’t like to think of himself as being a double-crosser, he had no trouble picking sides when it involved men like Ansel Beaudry. In Moon’s way of thinking, there was nothing wrong with operating on the shady side of the law, but Beaudry and his gang were downright evil. He reached in his saddlebag, pulled out a piece of smoked venison, and handed it to Will. “Here, I brought you some breakfast.”
Will took it gratefully. “Thanks. I ain’t had any breakfast.”
“That’s what I figured,” Moon replied. “Maybe that’ll hold you for a little while.” He was about to apologize for not having any coffee for him, but he was interrupted at that moment by the appearance of two horses at the mouth of the creek. “Uh-oh, there they are!”
Will watched the two riders as they turned downstream and followed the river until they reached the dead tree Moon had pointed t
o. Then they pushed through the bushes and were soon out of sight. “I recognized Tom Daly. Was that the one you called Bo Hagen with him?”
“Yep,” Moon replied, “that was Hagen, and Will, you’d best be real careful with that feller. He’s just naturally rattlesnake mean.” They both climbed aboard their horses. “That little game trail will lead you to the trail to Brinker’s,” he reminded him. He started to leave, but paused to say one more thing. “I ain’t got no idea how in the world Tom Daly wound up ridin’ with that bunch. He ain’t nowhere near as mean as they are. He’s a cattle rustler, he ain’t no killer.”
“That’s pretty much the way I see it, too,” Will said, “and thanks again, Moon. Be seein’ ya.”
“Be seein’ ya,” Moon replied, then he turned his horse downstream while Will crossed over to the other side, heading toward the dead tree and the game trail beside it.
Chapter 8
Will guided Buster through a patch of berry bushes beside the dead cottonwood tree on a game trail he never would have discovered had Moon not pointed it out to him. He was careful to take his time, lest he catch up with the two men he followed too soon. While trying to keep his mind on the trail he followed, he could not help wondering if what he was doing was foolish. Instead of riding as fast as he could to the closest telegraph wire to report Beaudry’s location, he was on the trail of two of the gang with the intention of arresting them. He was planning to do this even though he would be crossing into Texas, where he had no authority to arrest anyone. And after he arrested them, what was he to do with them? He couldn’t afford the time it would take to transport them all the way across Oklahoma Territory to Fort Smith. There was another possibility, however, and that’s what he ultimately decided to do. Camp Supply was located on the Beaver River where Wolf Creek emptied into it. The camp was only about twenty-five miles east of the Texas line. According to what he had learned from Moon, Brinker’s trading post was probably about sixty miles southwest of Camp Supply, a day and a half’s ride. He felt sure the army would hold the two outlaws in their guardhouse for him and maybe send a message to Fort Smith. That would leave him free to return to keep a watch on Grassy Creek. That was his plan. The only thing left to do was to put it into action. With that settled in his mind, he turned all his attention to the job of arresting Hagen and Daly.
He set a comfortable pace when he turned onto the old Indian trail when the game trail reached it. He was in no hurry to catch the two outlaws until he was well away from the camp at Grassy Creek. Ideally, he would like to make his move before they reached the trading post, but he doubted they would stop to rest their horses before reaching Brinker’s. It was hard to say what the situation might be at the store. According to what Moon had told him, Brinker was a partner with Elmira, so he might feel obligated to help the outlaws. Maybe it would be best to wait Hagen and Daly out and strike them on their way back. “I reckon we’ll just have to wait and see,” he informed Buster, and nudged him with his heels.
The sun was high overhead when he saw the trees that marked the course of the Canadian River, so he slowed Buster once again while he tried to see if he could spot the trading post. Knowing Tom Daly would recognize him at once, he wanted to be careful not to ride blindly into their midst. When within fifty yards of the log building that faced away from the river, he stopped to look over the situation. The path he had followed led right past the front entrance to the store and continued on in a northern direction. Outbuildings and a barn were on the other side of the main building. There was a hitching rail in front of the porch, but there were no horses tied there, causing him to wonder until his gaze was attracted by some movements down at the river’s edge. Nudging Buster forward a few more yards gave him a better view of the river, and he spotted a couple of horses down near the water. In a moment, a young boy came into his view. Will guessed that the boy had been given the job of watering the outlaws’ horses, because both horses were saddled. Thinking to gain some information that he could use later, he turned Buster toward him.
Young Thomas Brinker turned when the horses he was watching nickered and he heard Buster answer from the bluffs behind him. He stared at the man riding a big buckskin with two horses following behind him. He knew right away that the man was no one he had ever seen before, and outlaw or honest man, it made little difference to him. Both kinds came to trade at his father’s store, so he felt no need to sing out to announce the stranger. Instead, he stood by the water’s edge and continued to stare at him as he approached.
“Howdy,” Will said when he pulled Buster to a halt beside the boy and stepped down from the saddle.
“Howdy,” Thomas returned.
“These your horses?” Will asked, knowing they were not. He just wanted to see if the youngster was prone to conversation with a stranger.
“Nope,” Thomas replied. “They ain’t my horses. I’m just waterin’ ’em for two fellers in the store.”
“Is that so?” Will responded. “Those fellows pay you to watch their horses? That’s a big job for a young fellow like you.”
“They ain’t payin’ me to watch ’em, they just told me to. Anyway, it ain’t no big job for me, I’ve took care of horses before. I ain’t so young, either. I’m nine years old and I take care of my daddy’s horses all the time.”
“Sounds to me like you know what you’re doin’,” Will went on. “You reckon you could handle three more horses? My horses need waterin’, too. It’s worth a nickel a piece to me to have somebody watch my horses. Whaddaya say?”
“Yes, sir,” Thomas responded at once. “I’ll watch ’em for you. I’ll see that they get a good drink. Those two fellers in the store said to bring ’em up to the porch and tie ’em at the rail. You want me to bring yours up there, too?”
“Yep,” Will answered. “Bring mine, too. Keep ’em all together. I’ll walk on up to the store. There’s a couple of things I wanna pick up.” He reached in his saddlebag, pulled out a small purse that he kept coins in, and took out three nickels. When he handed them to Thomas, he commented, “You must do a man’s job around here. Ain’t your daddy got anybody else to help him?”
“He don’t need nobody else to help him,” Thomas answered. “Me and him do all the work and Mama does the cookin’.”
“I declare,” Will said, “you’re a hardworkin’ man, all right. I’ll go on up to the store now.” He drew his rifle from the saddle scabbard and turned toward the store, then paused to ask, “If I stay on that trail I rode in on, where am I gonna wind up?” The boy told him he’d wind up in Kansas, so he asked another question, confident that the youngster would tell him the truth. “What if I was goin’ to Camp Supply, back in Oklahoma? Do you know where that is?”
“Sure, I know where Camp Supply is,” Thomas answered. “We get soldiers comin’ by here from time to time.” He shrugged. “Only it won’t be Camp Supply for long. The soldiers told Daddy they’re changin’ the name of it to Fort Supply in December.”
“Is that a fact?” Will replied truthfully. “I did not know that.” He nodded thoughtfully. “So what trail did the soldiers come in on?”
“Same one you came in on,” Thomas said. “Only you have to take that trail that forks off to the right when you get about five miles past our store, if you wanna go to Camp Supply.”
“What’s your name, son?”
“Thomas.”
“Well, Thomas, I’m mighty pleased to meet you. I appreciate all the help you’ve been.”
“Yes, sir,” Thomas replied, then asked, “What’s your name?”
“Will Tanner . . . I’ll see you later.” He walked around to the other side of his packhorse, pulled two sets of hand irons out of one of the packs, and hooked one end of each on the back of his belt, so his hands would be free. Then he left Thomas to watch the horses, confident that he had gotten more information from him than he ever would have from Thomas’s father. He didn’t really need anyone to watch his horses. Buster wasn’t going to wander off without him and
the other two horses had to follow Buster, since they were tied to him by a lead line.
He took a good look around him as he walked up to the front porch, in case there might be someone in the barn or the outhouse, but it appeared everyone was inside the store. He noticed that the back part of the building was two stories high, no doubt to accommodate the two prostitutes Moon had mentioned, or anyone else who wanted to take a room for the night. There were two steps up to a wide front porch with four large rocking chairs. He couldn’t help thinking it looked mighty fancy for a trading post. It more nearly resembled a resort. There were two doors off the porch, one opened directly to the general store, the other to the half of the room that served as a saloon. Thinking it to be less noticeable, Will chose the door to the store.
Effie Brinker looked up from behind the counter when he walked in. “Well, howdy, stranger,” she greeted him. “I didn’t hear you come up. I thought that was Thomas coming in the door.”
“I left my horses with Thomas down by the river,” Will said. “He’ll probably be up in a little while. He’s got a couple other horses he’s watchin’, too.”
“Yeah, they belong to the two fellows in the saloon, talkin’ to Myrtle and Gracie.” She studied him for a moment, thinking he didn’t look as if he wanted to buy anything. “If you’re lookin’ for my husband, he’s in the saloon, too.” Her attention was drawn to the Winchester rifle he held casually in his right hand, and the two short chains hanging behind him. She wondered if she had made a mistake when she told him where Tyler was. “Was there something I could help you with? He’s tendin’ bar for those two men at the table. They’re friends of his.” She thought it might be a good idea to let him know that her husband was not alone.
He realized then that he had obviously caused her some concern by his solemn manner, so he smiled and said, “I’ll go over and maybe we’ll have a drink. I’ve never been in your store before. I’ll go take a look at the saloon.”
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