Dig Your Own Grave

by William W. Johnstone

  “Tell you the truth,” Will answered, “I don’t think I could handle a drink of likker right now—my stomach’s flat empty.”

  “I can take care of that, too,” the man announced. “You’ve come at the right time. My wife’s just about ready to put supper on the table. That’s what those two fellows over there are waitin’ for. Twenty-five cents will get you a solid meal with a cup of coffee. My wife’s a mighty good cook. You can’t get a better supper anywhere for that price.” The two men seated at the table were both staring at him by then.

  “You just talked me into it,” Will replied at once.

  “Won’t be but a couple of minutes,” the owner assured him. “What’s your name, young feller? I believe this is your first time in my store. You from around here?”

  “Nope, just passin’ through, on the way to Fort Worth,” Will answered, hesitated to consider, then decided that it didn’t really matter, so he said, “Will Tanner.”

  “Glad to know you, Will. My name’s Sid Worley.”

  “While we’re waitin’ for supper, there are a few things I need to buy,” Will said. “Some coffee, ten pounds; a sack of flour; about ten pounds of bacon; and some oats for my horses, if you’ve got any. If you ain’t, I’ll take whatever kind of grain you’ve got.”

  “Yes, sir,” Sid replied. “I’ll take care of it, but first I’ll go tell Bella she’s got one more for supper. Why don’t you take a seat at one of the tables and supper will be right out in a minute.”

  Will started to turn away from the counter, but stopped to ask a question. “What river is this you’re settin’ on?”

  “The Brazos,” Sid answered.

  Will walked across the room and sat down at the table next to the one where the two men were seated, taking a chair facing them. He was aware of their staring the whole time he was talking with Sid, so he wasn’t surprised when they struck up a conversation with him. “You ain’t from around these parts,” one of them commented. A stocky man with a pudgy face covered with hair from his ears down, he grinned as if he had made a joke. “If you’re ridin’ the grub line, it’s a bad time of year for that. Ain’t none of the big outfits hirin’ now. Ain’t that right, Junior?”

  “That’s a fact, Rufus,” the one called Junior replied. “How long you been lookin’? You didn’t even know you was on the Brazos River.” Finding that humorous, both men chuckled.

  Will smiled. He had hoped the scruffy-looking pair were just cowhands interested in a drink and a good supper, but it now appeared that they were also interested in amusing themselves at his expense. When they had finished laughing, he said, “I ain’t ridin’ the grub line, I ain’t lookin’ for work right now. I’m just goin’ to Fort Worth.”

  At that moment, a small boy of about six or seven came out of the kitchen door, carrying a saucer with a cup of coffee on it. He walked very deliberately toward Will, being careful not to spill a drop. “Mama said to bring you this coffee,” the boy said, holding the hot liquid with both hands on the saucer, afraid he might tip it to one side or the other. His nervousness did not get unnoticed by Junior.

  When Will reached out to take the cup, Junior suddenly blurted, “Boo!” Then both men laughed hilariously when the boy jumped, splashing coffee out of the cup. Quick as a cat, Will took the cup and saucer in his steady hands, preventing any more than a swallow of coffee to spill.

  “No problem, son,” Will said gently. “The saucer caught all but a few drops of it.”

  “You might notta spilled much of that coffee, kid, but you better check your britches. The way you jumped, you mighta peed your pants,” Junior crowed.

  “He mighta peed his pants!” Rufus echoed excitedly.

  The boy stood fixed, his eyes wide with fright, so Will took him by the shoulders and turned him around. “Don’t pay any attention to that loudmouth,” he told him. “Go on back to the kitchen.” He gave him a gentle push toward the kitchen door and the boy quickly left the room.

  Still laughing over scaring the boy, Junior bellowed, “If she sends that young ’un back here with our plates, I’ll bet you a dollar I’ll make him dump stew all over the floor.”

  “The hell you say,” his hairy-faced friend said. “You done scared him the first time. If he comes out here again, he’ll be ready for you. I’ll take that bet.”

  “He might think he’s ready, but I’ll make him jump higher’n that counter yonder,” Junior boasted confidently. Will didn’t say anything for a few moments. The boy’s father was behind the counter, collecting from the shelves the items Will had ordered. When it appeared Sid Worley wasn’t going to say anything to his unruly customers, Will realized that he was probably afraid to. “You watch him,” Junior went on. “I’ll make him jump.”

  “You do and I’ll bust your nose for you,” Will calmly promised.

  There followed a moment of complete silence before Junior asked the question, his gruff tone menacing now. “What did you say?”

  Well past disgust for the simpleminded bully, Will had no patience for the two miscreants. “You heard what I said. Leave the boy alone. Haven’t you two got anything better to do than torment little children?”

  “Yeah, I got somethin’ better to do, big talk, I’m thinkin’ I’m fixin’ to whip your ass.” He pushed his chair back from the table.

  “Whip his ass, Junior, whip his ass!” Rufus blurted in childlike excitement, obviously having seen his friend take advantage of his size on many such occasions.

  Junior rose to his feet and made a show of rotating his shoulders forward as if loosening them up. “Junior,” Will said, “I’ve got so many things on my mind right now, things a lot more important than a fistfight with you. I just wanna enjoy a good supper without havin’ you two spoilin’ it, so sit down and let’s eat supper.”

  Neither Junior nor his half-wit friend could believe what they were hearing from the stranger. It stopped Junior for only a moment, however. “Mister, you’ve been chewin’ on loco weed or somethin’. I’m fixin’ to break your back.”

  “I’m askin’ you politely this time,” Will said. “Sit down and the lady can bring us some supper.” He knew it was useless, but he warned him, anyway. “Don’t do it, Junior.” Junior simply grinned in response and started toward him, his ham-sized fists up before him, ready to throw a punch. He hesitated when Will showed no sign of rising to the bait, then he snorted like a bull and charged. Almost in one swift move, Will came up from his chair, grabbing his rifle as he did. When Junior threw the first haymaker, Will ducked under it and came up inside the brute’s arms with his rifle, butt first, with all the force he could muster. His aim was accurate, the butt of his rifle slammed squarely across Junior’s nose. It was enough to stagger the big man and before he could regain his senses, Will delivered another blow with the rifle, this time with the barrel against the side of Junior’s head. The second blow dropped him to the floor, and before he landed, Will turned to Rufus in anticipation of his reaction, his rifle aimed at the stunned half-wit, the hammer cocked. Rufus immediately had second thoughts and quickly removed his hand from the .44 he had thought to draw.

  “Come on,” Will said. “I’ll help you pick him up and get him on his horse, then you can take him away from here to wherever you’re campin’ tonight.”

  Completely subdued now, with no thoughts toward challenging the man who had just destroyed his image of an indestructible man, Rufus meekly did as he was told. “Back to the ranch,” he muttered. “I’ll take him back to the ranch.”

  “Good,” Will said, and grabbed one of Junior’s arms while directing Rufus to take the other one. “All right, pull him up.” They got him on his feet long enough to let him drop across Will’s shoulder. He couldn’t help recalling Lucy Tyler’s assailant in the Morning Glory when he loaded him on his shoulder. The difference being Junior felt like a railroad crosstie, the weight driving his feet into the floor. At least this one isn’t on a staircase, he thought as he headed quickly for the door, Rufus and Sid follow
ing. With help from Sid, Rufus and Will managed to lay Junior across his saddle, then Will and Sid stood by the rail watching Rufus ride out of sight before going back inside.

  Inside, Will started to apologize for losing customers for him, but Sid was quick to stop him. “Listen, I wanna thank you for what you did. I thank you for stickin’ up for my boy like you did. I always hate to see any of that crew stop in here. It ain’t very often, but every time it costs me trouble of some kind—broken glasses, busted chairs, broken window, always something. I need to apologize to you. You just stopped in for a good supper and had to run into some of that sorry crowd.” He paused a moment before making another comment. “I heard you tell them you weren’t lookin’ for work, you were just passin’ through. The way you took care of those two, though, I’d figure you for a gunman or a Texas Ranger.”

  “Neither one,” Will replied, and changed the subject. “I take it their ranch is close to here.”

  “About twenty-five miles east of here,” Sid said. “Those two you just met are just cowhands for the big outfit. There’s probably fifteen or twenty that work for the Hornet’s Nest. That’s what folks around here call that ranch, and most of ’em that’s been in here was pretty much like Junior and Rufus, troublemakers.”

  “Must be a sizable ranch, if they’ve got that many hands workin’ for ’em,” Will commented.

  “About fifteen thousand acres is what I’ve heard,” Sid said. “I don’t know anybody that’s ever been to the ranch headquarters. Most folks are too scared to go anywhere near the place. In the first of summer, when they drive cattle north, they always have a lot of cows that look like they might be Mexican cattle. Course, you can’t really tell, it’s just what folks say.”

  “Hornet’s Nest, huh?” Will grunted. “Is it a fairly new outfit?”

  “No, it was here before I built this store, and I’ll tell you the truth. If I’d known about it before, I’da found me a place somewhere else.”

  Ready to change the subject to something that was more important to him, Will said, “Well, let’s see if your wife thinks it’s safe enough to eat whatever it is I smell cookin’ back there. I might wanna heat up my coffee, though. I think it’s gotten a little cold, what with all the excitement.” He hesitated a moment to say one thing more. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll pull my horses around back of your store. I don’t think we’ll see any more of Junior and Rufus tonight, but I’d hate to have one of ’em take a shot at my horses, just outta spite.

  Sid went to the kitchen to assure his wife it was safe to bring out a plate of food for their remaining customer. Shortly after, she appeared carrying a plate piled high. Sid introduced her to Will when she placed the plate before him. “I understand your coffee’s gotten cold,” she commented with a little smile. “I’ll get you some hot.” He thanked her graciously and dived in without another moment’s delay.

  A few seconds later, Sid came from the kitchen, carrying a plate of food. “If you don’t mind, I’ll set down and join you,” he said, “since you don’t have no more company for supper.” He chuckled in appreciation of his humor. “Bella will eat with the boys.”

  “You’ve got more than one boy?” Will asked, having seen only the one delivering his coffee.

  “That was Sammy. He’s eight years old. His brother, Joe, is two years younger almost to the day.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got a good start on a nice family,” Will said. Even as he said it, he couldn’t help but wonder if Sid had enough backbone to defend his family from the likes of the hands from the Hornet’s Nest. He silently wished him luck. When Bella came in to refill their cups and see if they needed anything else, he complimented her on her cooking, meaning it sincerely. When he had eaten all he possibly could, he held up his hands in surrender when she came back with the biscuit plate again. “I couldn’t possibly eat another bite,” he pleaded. “And to be honest, I think I’d best pay you for two suppers ’cause that’s what I ate.”

  “You’ll not pay us for any,” Sid said. “We owe you for what you did with our friends from the Hornet’s Nest.” Will insisted that he should pay, but there was no winning that argument, so in the end, he thanked them graciously. They sat and talked for a little while longer, but finally Will declared that it was time he set out to find a spot to camp and take care of his horses. “Why don’t you camp here tonight?” Sid asked. “There’s a good spot by the river where I graze my horses and you could have breakfast with us before you go in the mornin’.” When Will seemed to hesitate, Sid confessed, “Tell you the truth, I wouldn’t mind havin’ you stay overnight.”

  He didn’t have to say why. Will knew he was concerned that Junior might come back looking for revenge, if he recovered enough tonight. “That’s hard to pass up,” he said. “Reckon I just might take you up on that.” He started to get up to leave, but Bella came in from the kitchen to join them, so he decided it polite to sit a little while longer and visit with her. They talked about the struggle to build their modest business and the promise of more settlers finding the territory. “It’s too bad the Hornet’s Nest can’t help you more,” Will said. “A ranch that size could sure need a lot of supplies.”

  “Yeah, they could,” Sid replied, “but they don’t. The old man, Mica Beaudry, doesn’t buy a nickel’s worth of supplies from us. He gets all his supplies packed in from Fort Worth.”

  His statement stopped Will cold! He wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. He had to ask him to repeat it. “Who did you say?”

  “Mica Beaudry,” Sid said. “He’s the man who owns Hornet’s Nest, and from what folks tell me, a meaner pirate ain’t never been born.”

  Thoughts were whirling around so fast and furious in Will’s brain that he was not sure he could believe what he had just heard. “Beaudry,” he repeated, then spelled it out the way he had seen it on Dan Stone’s telegram.

  “That’s right, Beaudry,” Sid said, astonished by Will’s sudden reaction to the name. “You know him?”

  “Has he got a son, or a brother, or some kin named Ansel?” Will asked, ignoring Sid’s question.

  “I can’t rightly say,” Sid apologized, recognizing now the urgency his casual mentioning of the name had generated in Will’s face. “Like I said, nobody outside that ranch knows what goes on in Hornet’s Nest. I think there’s a son, but I ain’t certain. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more about ’em. Is it important?” He couldn’t help but ask.

  “No, no,” Will replied hurriedly, “it’s not important.” His thoughts were screaming in direct contradiction to his statement. Beaudry did know where he was going! He wasn’t just running without a definite destination. He was going home. Consequently, contrary to all the information Will had been given, Beaudry’s roots were not all planted in Missouri and Kansas. Hornet’s Nest was where he was running to. “You say Hornet’s Nest is about twenty-five miles east of here?” Sid nodded. Will continued, “How do I find it?”

  “There’s a wagon track that runs off the Fort Worth road that’s supposed to lead to the ranch headquarters. You won’t have no trouble findin’ it, there’s a sign up that says ‘No Trespassing, Violators Will Be Shot.’”

  “How far off the Fort Worth road is it to the ranch headquarters?” Will asked.

  “I don’t have no idea,” Sid replied. “Like I said, I ain’t never been there.” He studied Will’s face as the young stranger thought about what he had said. “Will, I don’t know what you’re thinkin’, and it ain’t none of my business, anyway, but it ain’t healthy to mess with that pack of wolves. About two years back, there was a Texas Ranger rode back on that trail to Hornet’s Nest, lookin’ for one of their men who killed two fellows outside a church. There ain’t been no sign of him since. There was a Texas Ranger posse sent out from Austin to investigate, but they didn’t find nothin’, no body, no horse, no saddle, and Mica Beaudry claimed no ranger ever showed up at his ranch house. There weren’t nothin’ the Rangers could do but ride on back to Austin.”


  “I ’preciate what you’re sayin’,” Will said. “I’m just curious, that’s all. Sounds like this Beaudry family is livin’ in a world all their own.” He sat with Sid and

  Bella for another half hour before excusing himself to set up his camp. Sid got up and went with him to help carry his supplies.

  “You’re comin’ for breakfast in the mornin’, ain’tcha?” Sid asked. He thought Will might have changed his mind, based on his reactions after hearing about Mica Beaudry.

  “I sure am,” Will replied right away. “After seein’ how good she can cook stew and biscuits, I’ve gotta see how she does with breakfast.”

  Chapter 15

  Will slept with his horses close during the night. The grassy clearing Sid Worley used as his pasture was not very big, so there was no temptation for the horses to wander. Will didn’t even bother to hobble his packhorse. For a good part of the night, he kept a close eye on the store and the yard around it. He wasn’t sure how badly he had hurt Junior, so he decided it was a good idea to keep alert. It was not hard to do, since he was still rolling the information about Hornet’s Nest around in his head. If he could believe Sid, Hornet’s Nest was like a fortress, and what was hard to understand was why Ansel Beaudry had not gone to this fortress in the beginning. It sounded like a much better place to hide out than Grassy Creek, and he would not have needed a guide to Hornet’s Nest. He knew where that was. Instead, he enlisted Tom Daly to guide him to Grassy Creek. I don’t reckon any of that matters, he thought to himself. What matters is that I’ve got a pretty good idea where Ansel Beaudry is now. And he had to be at Hornet’s Nest—it was too much of a stretch to think it merely a coincidence he had the same name as the owner of Hornet’s Nest. So the task now would be to find out just how much of a job it would be to get to Ansel at Hornet’s Nest. Judging by what Sid told him about that ranch, it would amount to trying to attack a small army.