by Tell Cotten
Meanwhile, Josie found a broken branch that was shaped like a crutch. I whittled off some of the smaller twigs, and I nodded as I handled it.
“Might work as a weapon too,” I commented.
“Against guns?”
I didn’t reply as I stuck my crude crutch under my arm.
“Time to go,” I declared.
Chapter ten
My head throbbed like an Indian drum, my ribs hurt with every breath, and my hip was oozing blood again. But, through the pain there was that ol’ feeling pushing me on.
Josie walked behind me as I followed the tracks.
At first our speed of travel was mighty slow. The ground was rough, with up and down knolls and draws. It was also rocky in a few places.
An hour passed, and I figured we had only gone about a quarter of a mile.
By then it was dark. However, there was a full moon, and I had no problem following the tracks.
The second hour of travel was better. The more I walked the more I started loosening up, and some of the stiffness went away.
We strutted along. And, except for having to stop a few times to pull a thorn out of my foot, we made good time.
“I can tell by these tracks that Wade isn’t concerned about being followed,” I commented.
“The way you look,” Josie said. “I don’t blame him.”
“They go back and forth real slow like,” I said as I ignored her comment. “That means they aren’t in any hurry. Hopefully, they stopped early.”
Josie nodded, and then we were silent. I made long, slow strides with my crutch while Josie took small steps behind me.
Sometime around midnight I started getting tired. But we couldn’t afford to stop, so I kept pressing on.
“I could sure use a cup of coffee,” I said just to be saying something.
Josie agreed, and it fell silent again as we poked along.
Hour after hour passed by uneventfully. But the tracks were getting fresher, and I could tell that we weren’t too far behind.
We were going down a narrow draw when I suddenly stopped and sniffed the air.
“Smell it?” I glanced at Josie.
“Campfire smoke,” she said.
“That is correct,” I nodded. “They gotta be close by. Probably on the other side of this draw.”
Josie nodded, and we crept along.
It took us a while, but we finally found their camp. They were nestled down in a low place, and I could see the faint glow of a campfire. I could also see a pot of coffee beside the fire, and my mouth salivated at the thought.
“Fire’s still burning,” I said softly. “If they were both asleep it would have burned out by now. One of them must be keeping watch.”
Josie nodded.
I crouched beside a tree. Josie knelt beside me, and her sharp, blue eyes studied me curiously.
It took a while, but I finally found what I was looking for.
“There’s the lookout,” I pointed. “In the shadows to the left. About thirty feet from the fire.”
Josie looked, and she nodded when she spotted him.
“And there’s somebody sleeping by the fire,” I gestured.
Josie nodded again.
“You stay here,” I said. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
Josie’s face filled with worry, and her blue eyes stared straight into mine.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” I reassured her.
“You have no gun,” she objected.
“I aim to change that.”
“How? Indian way?”
“No,” I shook my head. “My way.”
Josie frowned uncertainly.
“If I don’t make it, I want you to hightail it outta here,” I said. “Find Yancy. He’ll take care of you. Understand?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice low and sullen.
I smiled at her and gave her hand a squeeze.
“I’ll be back,” I said.
With Josie’s knife in one hand and my crutch in the other, I rose from my crouch. Keeping under the cover of the trees, I crept towards their camp.
Chapter eleven
Wade Davis couldn’t sleep. He was nervous, and he didn’t know why.
Floyd was keeping watch, and Floyd was a good boy. He had a keen eye, and Wade knew he wouldn’t fall asleep.
There wasn’t any reason to be nervous. The Apaches knew they were coming, and Wade was sure that Cooper Landon was dead by now. He had to be. No man could last in the shape he had been in.
Wade had been hesitant to bushwhack a Landon. However, Cooper had been alone, and by the time anyone found him they’d be long gone.
Suddenly, Wade sat up.
The horses! He thought. What if somebody recognizes Cooper’s horses!
Wade thought on it for a moment, and then he settled back down.
It was simple. He would just trade Cooper’s horses to the Apaches. Then, if any of the Landons were to find the horses they would think that the Apaches did it.
As for the pelts, he would keep them, and would make a fine profit when he sold them back east. But everything else, including his guns and cooking utensils, he would trade to the Apaches.
Wade relaxed, happy that he had reached a solution.
The night passed slowly. Once Wade heard Floyd stirring the fire and making coffee.
Wade fell asleep then, and he slept hard. He woke with a jolt, and he blinked as his eyes adjusted to the night.
Wade’s eyes grew wide. There, sitting across the fire, was Cooper Landon!
“Morning! Did you sleep well?” Cooper smiled pleasantly.
Wade was numb with shock. Cooper sat on a log, and his Henry rifle rested across his knees, pointed directly at him. In one hand Cooper held a cup of coffee, and the other hand was near the trigger.
Wade also noticed that he had his boots back on.
“Hope you don’t mind me borrowing a cup of coffee,” Cooper said. “I lost all my rations ’bout a day’s ride north of here.”
Wade’s mouth was dry. He didn’t answer, but instead just stared at Cooper in disbelief.
“You’re probably wondering why I didn’t kill you,” Cooper said, and he answered his own question. “I admit I wanted to. Wanted to bad. But, I just couldn’t shoot a man while he was asleep, no matter how rotten he is.
“So,” he continued, “I left your pistol there in front of you. I’m sure hoping you’ll make a grab for it.”
Wade eyed his Colt and looked back at Cooper.
“No?” Cooper said, and then he sighed. “I thought so. Lee always said us Landons’ only weakness is that we’ve got rules, and right now I’d have to agree. Anybody else would have shot you dead.”
“My boy, Floyd,” Wade spoke.
“He’s over there in the bushes.”
“He’s dead?”
“Naw. I got him leaned up against a cactus,” Cooper informed. “He’ll have a mighty bad headache when he wakes up though. Broke my crutch over his head.”
A look of relief passed across Wade’s face.
“You should be proud of that boy,” Cooper continued. “During the war I saw many a man fall asleep while keeping watch, but your boy sure didn’t. I had the hardest time sneaking up behind him.”
Wade narrowed his eyes as he studied Cooper. He seemed eager to kill, and Wade knew all he was waiting for was an excuse.
“What are you going to do?” Wade asked.
Cooper took a swig of coffee before he replied.
“If I was feeling vigorous, I’d take you back to Midway to stand trial for attempted murder,” he declared. “But, I ain’t feeling vigorous, and I also don’t want to worry about the rest of your outfit coming after me.”
“Where does that leave us?”
“Well, I’m still hoping you’ll make a grab for that Colt,” Cooper replied. “But, since you won’t, then there’s worse things a man could do to a feller.”
“Such as?”
Cooper grinned, and his wh
ite teeth shone brightly.
“You’ll see. But first, I want you to raise your hands and stand.”
Wade wanted desperately to kill this man, but there was nothing he could do. So, he did as he was told.
“Now then,” Cooper said. “Take your shirt off.”
“What?” Wade looked strangely at him.
“Your shirt. Take it off.”
Wade just stood there with an uncertain look.
“I won’t tell you again,” Cooper warned.
Wade scowled and slowly removed his shirt.
“And your socks,” Cooper added.
“This is rough country to be traveling in barefoot!” Wade protested.
“It is,” Cooper agreed. “I know from experience.”
Wade scowled again, but he still bent over and removed his socks.
“Good,” Cooper said as he stood.
Keeping his rifle on Wade, he limped over to his saddlebags, knelt down, and rummaged through them. He pulled out some rope and stood.
“Now,” Cooper gestured out in the bushes. “Let’s go see Floyd. You first.”
Walking gingerly, Wade left camp while Cooper limped behind him. They went about thirty feet, and Wade spotted Floyd.
He was right where Cooper had said he was. He was unconscious, and he was leaning face-first against a tall cactus. He was in a sitting position, and his legs straddled the cactus.
It was a big cactus. It was about two feet thick, and it was around eight feet tall. At the top it branched out, making sort of a crude cross.
“Did you have to leave him like that?” Wade frowned.
“Sure did,” Cooper replied. “Now, if you’d sit down across from him, I’d like for you to straddle that cactus just like ol’ Floyd is doing. Just put your legs right on top of his.”
“Now hold on,” Wade protested. “I don’t have a shirt on!”
“You don’t,” Cooper agreed.
Never had Wade been so humiliated. He took a deep breath, and he sat next to the cactus and straddled the cactus with his legs.
“Now, put your arms around the cactus, one on each side, and grab ahold of Floyd’s wrists,” Cooper instructed.
Wade scowled, but he still did as he was told.
“Good. Now, you just sit there and be still.”
Keeping his rifle pointed at him, Cooper tied Wade’s wrists to Floyd’s wrists. Once Floyd groaned and stirred, but then he passed back out.
Cooper was good at tying knots, and when he finished he was satisfied that they wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.
Cooper stood back and examined his work, and he couldn’t help but smile.
It looked like they were both hugging the cactus. If either one moved, they would pull the other one forward into the sharp thorns of the cactus.
“That should do it,” Cooper commented. “If’n I was you, I would hope when Floyd goes to waking up that he doesn’t fall backwards. That’d hurt, especially for a man that ain’t got a shirt on.”
Wade didn’t answer. He just glared at Cooper through hard, cold eyes. Never had he hated or wanted to kill someone as much as he did now.
Cooper disappeared then, and occasionally Wade heard him as he moved about. It sounded like he was packing up camp, and then Wade heard him saddling the horses.
Cooper rode his dun out by Wade and Floyd. He led the mule and his other horse behind him.
Wade had already tried to free himself, and there were scratches in both him and Floyd.
“If’n I was you I wouldn’t fight it none,” Cooper grinned from his horse. “Only way out is if you break that cactus, and that’s a mighty thick cactus. That would hurt, especially for a man that ain’t got a shirt on.”
“You’re going to leave us like this?” Wade demanded.
“Sure am,” Cooper confirmed. “And, I’d consider yourself lucky. You left me in worse shape than I’m leaving you.”
“We’re in the middle of nowhere!”
“I reckon you’ll live,” Cooper replied. “Now, you might get a little sunburned before the rest of your outfit comes looking for you, but they’ll find you sooner or later.”
“Someday I’ll kill you for this,” Wade vowed in a low, solemn voice.
“If’n I was you I’d forget it,” Cooper replied. “This makes us even. Next time, I won’t be so hospitable.”
Wade didn’t reply as he glared at Cooper.
“Well, I’d best be going,” Cooper said as he gathered up his reins.
He nodded at Wade and encouraged his dun forward. The mule and the extra horse fell in behind, and they made their way up the hill.
Part 2
“Jailbreak And Reunions”
Midway, Texas – Four Days Earlier
Chapter twelve
They had been in the saddle for many days, and they were tired, thirsty, and in need of a bath.
The four riders pulled up briefly when they spotted Midway in the distance, and then they trotted on in.
Yancy Landon was in front, and he led Utah ‘Stew’ Baine’s horse behind. Stew’s hands were tied to the saddle, and his feet were tied to the stirrups.
J.T. Tussle and his niece Jessica brought up the rear.
Yancy was smaller than most. He had a hard, fit body, and he wore his Colt on his side.
He was a somber man with few words. When he did talk it was always direct, certain, and to the point.
Stew Baine was a killer with no morals. Known for his marksmanship, he favored his Henry rifle. He had dark hair and was tall and slim.
He was usually arrogant and sure of himself. However, today he was somber because he knew that the hangman’s noose a-waited.
Tussle was a well-known cattleman. He owned the largest ranch around, and he was known for being a hard man to deal with.
When Jessica had been taken hostage he’d been determined to find her, and despite Yancy’s protests he had gone with the Landons. Several times he had messed up their plans, and towards the end of the pursuit he’d also been shot in the foot.
As for Jessica, she was in her early twenties. She had a good figure, long blond hair, and light blue eyes. And, as Yancy was finding out, she also had a feisty side.
“How’s your foot?” Yancy turned in the saddle and looked at Tussle.
“Hurts,” Tussle admitted, and his face was drawn and pale.
“Go on to the doc’s,” Yancy suggested. “I’ll take care of the prisoner.”
Tussle nodded and said, “I’m sorry about your brother.”
“He’s still alive.”
Tussle frowned uncertainly as he held out his hand.
“I appreciate all you’ve done,” he said earnestly. “If anything had happened to Jessica–,” his voice trailed off.
“I understand,” Yancy said.
He shook Tussle’s hand and looked at Jessica. Their eyes locked, and several seconds passed.
“I’m sorry you lost your money, ma’am,” Yancy finally said.
“So am I,” Jessica declared, and her eyes flashed angrily as she glared at Stew.
“Mebbe Lee and Brian will find it,” Yancy said, and he added, “Take good care of your uncle.”
“I will,” Jessica nodded. She hesitated and added, “I hope you’ll come visit us when you get back.”
“I’ll do that.”
Jessica smiled politely, and Tussle kicked up his horse.
Yancy watched as they went down the street, and then he kicked up his horse. Stew’s horse fell in behind, and they rode to the police headquarters and pulled up.
Sergeant Jason Wagons walked outside as Yancy dismounted.
“You’re back!” He exclaimed.
Sergeant Wagons was a chubby fellow with fair skin and red cheeks. Nineteen and green, he had always tried hard to impress the Landons.
Yancy frowned as he studied him. A thick cigar was wedged in his mouth, and he also had the beginnings of a moustache. The hair was thin, tangled, and long.
�
�What’s that?” Yancy pointed at his face.
“I’m growing a moustache,” Sergeant Wagons beamed.
“When did you take up smoking cigars?”
“I just started, sir,” Sergeant Wagons admitted. “I think it makes me look older and more distinguished.”
“Well, everyone’s entitled to their own opinions.”
“Who’s this?” Sergeant Wagons asked as he changed the subject.
“This is the man who killed Steve and Sam Gibson.”
“Where’s the rest of ’em?”
“All dead, except for one.”
“Oh? Who got away?”
“Brian Clark,” Yancy said, and added, “But he didn’t get away.”
“Then where is he?”
Yancy ignored the question and said, “I’ll be leaving Stew in your care. Think you can handle that?”
“Are you going somewhere?”
“Yes. I’m going after Cooper.”
“And where is he?”
“Not here.”
Sergeant Wagons looked confused, but Yancy didn’t explain. Instead, he took Stew inside and placed him inside a cell. Only then did he untie his hands.
“You’re not to open this cell door for any reason,” Yancy told Wagons. “I don’t care if this jailhouse is on fire. Just let him burn, understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And send a man after Judge Parker. Soon as I get back, we’ll hold a trial and hang him.”
“Yes, sir,” Sergeant Wagons said again.
“Don’t talk to him. Feed him twice a day, but other than that leave him alone.”
“You can count on me, sir.”
Yancy grunted his response and turned to leave.
“I’ll see you in the morning before I leave,” he said.
Sergeant Wagons saluted sharply.
Yancy saluted back, and then he went and tended to the horses. Afterwards, he walked over to the bathhouse and took a bath and got a shave. Then, he walked down the street to his and Cooper’s house.
It was a small, modest house on the outskirts of town. It had a front porch that had a nice view, and that was where Yancy and Cooper spent most of their time.
Yancy wasn’t hungry, so instead of supper he made a pot of coffee. He carried the pot outside and sat in his chair. He poured a cup, put three spoonfuls of sugar in, and stirred.