Gold on the Hoof

by Peter Grant

  Walt flushed slightly. “Oh? How’s that, sir?”

  “Enrique Sandoval may have been bad clear through, but he was a pistolero to be reckoned with. People who know what they’re talking about, on both sides of the border, say he was the fastest gun in north-eastern Mexico. He ran roughshod over much of Coahuila province for years. His bandidos even raided on this side of the Rio Grande from time to time. You made a lot of people very happy when you killed him, and made a name for yourself too. You were already known as a dead shot with a rifle, after the Hunting Wolf incident back in ’66, but not so much as a fast gun. I daresay that’ll change from now on.”

  Walt shrugged. “I wouldn’t call myself a real fast gun, sir – just fast enough when it’s counted, so far. If I never have to pull a revolver in anger again, I won’t complain. I’d rather live a peaceful life.”

  “So would any man with sense. Sadly, there are always bad men who need stopping, and good men have to bestir themselves to do so from time to time. How many of Sandoval’s bandidos went down with him?”

  “Three on the day he died, sir, and at least nine that I know of before then, in a couple of other fights. Tyler, how many did your segundo deal with while we were buying horses?”

  “Tom told me his gunhands got several more. Only two bodies were left behind – the rest skedaddled on horseback, helping some of their friends to stay astride.”

  Mackenzie grunted. “With any luck, the wounded will have died later. That’ll have thinned the worst of the bandido herd there for a while.”

  “Someone else will take Sandoval’s place soon enough, Colonel,” Walt pointed out.

  “Perhaps, but they’ll remember what happened to him, and be more cautious, I think.”

  Tyler chuckled. “They’re likely to think twice before trying to push around unknown gringos, anyway.”

  Mackenzie laughed. “If they have any sense, yes.” He pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. “Now, I have to get these horses distributed to the other forts along the frontier. That’s going to be a big job. It’s early April, and spring’s well under way, so at least there’ll be good grazing along the trails to the forts; but early Indian raiding and hunting parties will also be out. That means I have to provide bigger escorts for the horse herds, and get them back here when they’ve delivered them, all while keeping up our regular patrols.” He rose to his feet and held out his hand. “Thank you again for all you’ve done. You may be hearing from me soon about the services of your Navajo scouts.” He held out his hand.

  Walt shook it. “I’ll look forward to that, sir.”

  He collected the telegraph message from the adjutant, noting that it was, indeed, from Pablo, but did not read it at once. Instead, he asked for directions to the fort’s ordnance section. There, he explained to the senior NCO about Don Thomas’ 1841 pack howitzer, and asked, “Is there any way I can buy more shells for it from you? I don’t need powder – I can buy that anywhere – but the shells are a problem.”

  The sergeant thought for a moment. “Luckily, we just received a shipment to replenish our stocks. A battery is due to conduct training next Monday. If you’ll still be here, sir, I can issue them, at least on paper, more rounds than they’re due to fire. I can write off the extras as ‘consumed during training’. If you and I make a private arrangement, I’ll see to it that they’re ‘consumed’ in your direction, if you know what I mean. There are four types of projectile. Shall we say a dozen of each?”

  Walt grinned. “That would be fine, sergeant. If you can spare two or three dozen of the solid shot, that would be even better.”

  After a short negotiation, a price in gold dollars was agreed, payable privately on delivery. Walt rode back to the wagons, whistling cheerfully. There had been no room in the fort for them this time, so they’d pitched camp a mile away, on good grazing for the horses. He sat down with paper and pencil to do some figuring.

  Pablo reported that he’d received 1,214 horses from the teams that had gone to central and western Mexico. They’d cost an average of $7.40 apiece. He’d held back 173 for Walt’s breeding stock, and delivered 1,041 to Fort Bliss, duly accepted by the Army. He was holding U.S. government drafts totaling $26,025, which he’d hand over when they next met.

  Walt added up the numbers. Pablo had invested $2,000 of his own money in this venture, so he’d get $6,756. Vicente had invested $1,000, which he’d sent into Mexico with one of Pablo’s teams, so he’d receive $3,378. Walt would get the balance of $15,891. Added to what Colonel Mackenzie had just paid him, his total income from this venture would amount to almost $60,000, payable in gold dollars or the equivalent value in greenbacks. He still owed almost $5,000 in outstanding wages and bonuses, but even so, that left $54,000. He also had another $15,000 or so in cash, courtesy of the late Major d’Assaily, bringing his total to almost $70,000.

  Walt was staggered. He’d had to cover initial costs, salaries, and the purchase of the horses, but even so, this was a far larger return than he’d expected. He did some calculations. All told, he’d invested $25,000 of his own money, plus about $20,000 of the gold he’d recovered in Mexico. That gave him a cash return on investment of no less than 40%, plus several hundred horses for his breeding stock – some of them among the finest of their kind he’d ever seen – and some very experienced hands to help breed and train them. He’d also bought a dozen six-mule wagons and their teams, to be transferred to Ames Transport when they got back to Colorado. The Army profits alone would cover everything he’d spent last year on setting up his horse ranch, with several thousand dollars to spare. Last but not least, he’d returned with a wife whom he loved more with every passing day, and who filled him with happiness.

  When he showed her the figures, later that evening, Colleen was amazed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen numbers that big before,” she exclaimed. “And it’s all yours?”

  “Ours, honey.”

  “Whew! I knew you were pretty successful, what with your transport company and your own horse ranch, but this is… it’s wonderful! Of course, there’s also the money you paid Papa for his horses. Now that we’re married, I’ll return that to you. We’ll pool our resources together.”

  “Are you sure, darling? I don’t mind if you want to keep it separate.”

  She shook her head. “If I need money, I’ll ask you, just as I know you’ll tell me if you take out a big sum for your own use.”

  “Sure. That’s part of being honest with each other. I want you to draw a monthly allowance, as much as you think you’ll need, for your own use – clothes, books and anything else. I’ll do the same.”

  “Let’s do that.” She looked at him curiously. “How much do you think you’re worth now?”

  “It’s not me, sweetheart. It’s ‘we’. Rose and I always saw it that way, and I want you to do the same. Let’s see… in cash, and adding the value of the land, animals, wagons and buildings of the transport company, and the same for the ranch, and the two farms…”

  “Two farms? What two farms?”

  “Oh, didn’t I tell you? I have a farm of one-and-a-half sections near Salida, and another on two sections of riverfront land near Cañon City. I have tenant farmers on both. I buy animal feed from them – alfalfa and oats. My wagons collect sacks and bales of it whenever they pass. The farmers don’t have to pay shipping costs, so it works out cheaper than buying from feed barns.”

  He’d taken over both farms from Parsons after he’d killed him. He wouldn’t tell Colleen about the three small parcels of land in New Mexico yet, he decided. Parsons had invested in them, in the expectation that they lay on the most suitable route for a proposed southern transcontinental railway line, running through Glorieta Pass to Santa Fe. They weren’t worth anything to speak of right now, but if Parsons’ informants had been correct, that would change overnight once the new railroad’s route was announced.

  Colleen nodded. “All right. What’s the total?”

  “All of my properties and businesse
s are debt-free, so including the money for your father’s horses, I’d say we’re worth somewhere north of a hundred and forty thousand dollars, cash, land and assets, free and clear.”

  She stared at him, mouth open in astonishment. She couldn’t speak for some moments. When she recovered her voice, she said accusingly, “Why didn’t you tell me you were so rich?”

  Walt shook his head. “We’re comfortably off, but truly rich men, like some of the mine owners in Colorado or the railroad magnates, are worth millions. Also, a single disaster can wipe out a lot of what we own. That’s one reason I’m spreadin’ it out. If a flood or fire destroys the horse ranch, we’ll have the transport company. If the railroads expand so much that the transport company goes under, we’ll have the ranch and the farms. I’ll invest in other things, too, when I have the time and money to do so.”

  “You’re not putting all our eggs in one basket, as they say. Back in Mexico, you mentioned investing in a cattle ranch.”

  “Yes. You met Tyler Reese today. He wants to buy land in the Texas Panhandle area as soon as the Indian threat is lifted. He’s got some of what he’ll need, but not enough. I’m thinking about puttin’ in the rest, and becomin’ his partner. I don’t know how long the Texas beef market’s gonna stay healthy. A lot o’ herds are being driven to ranches in Nebraska and further north right now. They’ll compete to sell to Eastern states once they’re up an’ runnin’. Even so, I reckon ranching’ll stay profitable for a good while longer. I’ll invest for ten years, then sell out an’ take my profits, and I’ll draw an income from the ranch each year as well.

  “I’m also lookin’ at a property further up the Wet Mountain Valley, north of my ranch. It’s about two thousand acres – a bit over three square miles – but half o’ that’s in the foothills, so it can’t be used for much ’cept grazin’ or timber. I’ve got more’n ten thousand acres already, so I don’t need it, but the owner wants to sell, and he’s offerin’ a good price. With what I’ve earned from this venture, I can easily afford it; and land’s not gonna get any cheaper, ’specially big pieces like that. If it ain’t been sold by the time we get back, I’ll talk to him.”

  “Does it adjoin your ranch?”

  “Naw, it’s near on twenty miles above our northern boundary, on the western edge of the Wet Mountains. That ain’t a problem, though. We can drive horses there an’ back if need be.”

  Later that night, lying in bed, Walt kissed her gently. “You know, honey, all that money’s all very well; but if I lost every penny I brought to this venture, and I’d never found that gold or bought your father’s horse herd, I’d still reckon myself rich for finding you.”

  She blinked back tears as she stroked his cheek. “And I’m richer than I ever thought I’d be, because I’ve found you.”

  “Care to find me again?”

  She giggled. “I thought you’d never ask!”

  The shipment of cloth and sewing materials arrived from San Antonio three days later. They held a choosing contest for the ready-made clothes, with much giggling and carrying on as the items were held against bodies and measured by eye. Walt borrowed a room in Fort Clark for the ladies to get to work, altering the ready-mades and making new clothes for the long, laborious journey to El Paso, Fort Union and Colorado.

  Colleen learned that a couple of the fort’s wives owned treadle-powered sewing machines. She prevailed on Walt to hire them, and the services of their owners, for a few days. It made the sewing and alterations much quicker; but of greater interest was that Edelmira displayed an innate gift for working the machines fast, accurately and neatly. Walt examined some cotton bib shirts she’d run up for him, and was impressed.

  “Maybe we should buy a sewing machine for the ranch, and set her up there to make clothes for everyone,” he suggested to Colleen.

  She shook her head. “She’ll be wasted there. Why not set her up in business in Pueblo? It’ll be closer to good schools for Maria, and she can make a good living at it. She can teach the ranch women how to use a sewing machine, and we can buy one or two for them.”

  “All right. We’ll do that.”

  “What about Sancho? He’s been spending a lot of time with her lately. I think there may be wedding bells in due course.”

  They’d been watching the budding romance with amusement. Both Sancho and Edelmira had been married before, but their former partners had died. Their pleasure in each other was obvious, and even better, Maria doted on her prospective stepfather. What’s more, Guillermo approved of him.

  Walt grinned. “He works out at the ranch, but if he marries her, I can just as easily use him in the transport company, at the same wage. I reckon he won’t mind moving to Pueblo to be with her.”

  The freight wagons also brought copies of the latest newspapers from San Antonio. Walt’s defeat of Enrique Sandoval had made minor headline news. He read the reports with growing irritation. The journalists who had written them appeared to favor breathless hyperbole over facts. He crumpled up one newspaper and threw it into the fire, letting out an oath of frustration.

  “Damned hacks! It wasn’t anything like that!”

  Colleen leaned over and hugged him. “Never mind, darling. Didn’t Colonel Mackenzie say Sandoval had been feared in these parts for some time? I suppose his death was bound to catch their imagination.”

  “Yeah, but the way they wrote about it, you’d think I was some sort of angel of death, sent to pass judgment on Sandoval for his sins!” Walt stared moodily at the flames flaring up as they began to consume the newsprint sheets.

  She giggled. “Yes, they went over the top, didn’t they? Never mind. The important thing is, we’re alive and unhurt, and have the rest of our lives ahead of us. Sandoval doesn’t.”

  Walt shook his head. “You don’t understand, love. Some men – not many, thank God! – think it’s some sort of game to see who’s the fastest gun out there. Some of them will travel long distances to meet someone they think they can beat, and force him into a gunfight. If they kill him, they reckon it’ll add to their reputation. Others of that sort won’t fight themselves, but take bets on those who do. I don’t want anyone to start thinking of me as a likely target.”

  She sobered at once. “I didn’t know that! What sort of diseased mind works that way?”

  “I don’t know, sweetheart, and I hope to God I never find out for myself. I just want to keep a low profile, stay out of the limelight, and get on with the business of living.”

  She shivered. “We’ll have to add that to our prayers, and hope that such people don’t read the San Antonio newspapers.”

  Over the next three days, everyone received the fruits of the ladies’ labor; ample supplies of new clothing, sufficiently tough to stand up to two more months on the trail. The supplies were distributed among the wagons and pack horses. Harness, saddles and tack were overhauled and prepared, and those horses that needed it were re-shoed. Walt asked Colonel Mackenzie for an escort, and the Colonel obliged with half a platoon, ten cavalry troopers commanded by a sergeant. He apologized for not sending more men, but what with having to distribute among several forts all the horses Walt had brought, he simply couldn’t spare them.

  Walt’s private arrangement with the ordnance sergeant also bore fruit. Sixty rounds for the mountain howitzer – two dozen cannonballs, and a dozen each of case shot, canister and grapeshot – were carefully stowed, in exchange for five twenty-dollar double-eagle coins.

  At last, all was ready. Fifteen wagons, almost seventy people, and well over two hundred horses and mules hit the trail for El Paso.

  15

  Twenty-two days after leaving Fort Clark, they pulled into the farm outside El Paso. Forewarned by a rider with a message, Pablo and the remaining hands who’d come south from Colorado were waiting to greet them. There were loud and boisterous reunions between Walt’s men, and introductions for the estancia ranch hands and their families who’d come to join them.

  After turning the horse herd into the cor
rals, to join those already waiting to make the journey north, the new arrivals were treated to a fiesta in miniature. Pablo had hired musicians from Paso del Norte across the river, who played for singing and dancing. The cook had prepared a mammoth meal with all the trimmings. By now everyone, including the Anglos and Navajos, had become accustomed to Mexican food. They ate until they bulged.

  Eight-year-old Maria rapidly became a universal favorite, flitting among the groups, laughing and playing, and generally being thoroughly spoilt by everyone. “You’re going to have trouble getting her to bed, Edelmira,” Walt teased her mother.

  “Si, patrón, but she has not enjoyed herself like this for years. It does my heart good to see her so happy.”

  “You look pretty happy, too,” Walt observed, looking at Sancho, who was holding Edelmira’s arm very carefully, as if it would break.

  “Si, patrón. Ah… I have a favor to ask, patrón. Edelmira has agreed to marry me.” She blushed scarlet, and held even tighter to his arm. “We would like to ask the priest in Paso del Norte to perform the ceremony. Could I ask for my wages a little early, so I can pay for what will be needed?”

  “Yes, of course, and I’ll give you fifty dollars more. See me tomorrow morning to get the money. Go get everything fixed up, and we’ll throw another party here as a wedding reception. When’s the big day?”

  “As soon as we can arrange it, patrón – we hope in two or three days.”

  The news traveled around the group like wildfire. There was an outburst of cheering, and people immediately began to plan the festivities. It soon became obvious that they wouldn’t be leaving El Paso until the celebration was over. Grinning, Walt conceded the point.

  “And so you should!” Colleen mock-scolded him. “It’s going to be the biggest party they’ve ever seen. They’ll remember their wedding for the rest of their lives!”