Sizzle and Midnight were quickly saddled and bridled, the packages from Jarratt’s and the pies from O’Malley’s hung from their saddlehorns. Smoky, still feeling the effects of the previous night’s drinking, swayed a bit when he mounted, but the fresh air and coffee had taken most of the edge off his pounding headache, and his stomach was starting to settle down.
“See you boys later,” Hal said. “Although I doubt you’ll be around much longer. It’s about time the Rangers sent you back out.”
“It sure is,” Jim agreed. “Adios, Hal.”
“See you, Hal,” Smoky added. He and Jim put their horses into a walk. They would keep them at that pace for half-a-mile, until they warmed up, then put them into a lope. They rode easily in the saddle, enjoying the warmth of the morning air, the sun on their backs. They had gone a little more than two miles when the hoof beats of a hard-ridden horse came to their ears.
“Someone comin’ fast, Smoke,” Jim said. “We’d better see who it is.”
They turned to face the oncoming rider, loosened their Colts in their holsters, and waited with their hands on the guns’ butts. A minute later, Bobby Taylor, the young Western Union telegrapher, came into view. He rode up to them and pulled his horse to a sliding stop.
“You’re in an awful hurry, Bobby,” Jim said.
“Boy howdy, that’s for certain. I’m sure glad I caught up with you two,” Bobby answered. “This came in just after you left. Seemed too important to wait until I got off this afternoon, so I closed the office and chased after you.”
He handed Jim a yellow Western Union flimsy.
“Urgent need you in Austin now ES” was all it said. Jim passed it to Smoky, who quickly scanned it.
“Seems like we’ve got orders, Jim,” he said.
“We’ve got orders.”
6
Jim and Smoky made the rest of the trip home at a hard gallop. They stopped at Smoky’s house first. As they expected, Cindy and Julia were not there.
“They must’ve already gone over to my place, Smoke,” Jim said. “We’ll catch up to ’em there.”
“It’ll only take me a few minutes to gather up my gear, then we’ll be on our way again,” Smoky answered. He dismounted, headed into the house, and grabbed a spare shirt, socks, and underwear, as well as extra ammunition for his guns, along with a good supply of beef jerky. He stuffed everything in his saddlebags, then remounted. Fifteen minutes after arriving at Smoky’s, they were on the trail again. A short while after that, keeping their horses at a walk, so as not to startle their wives, they rode into Jim’s yard. Julia and Cindy were on the porch, working on a needlepoint sampler.
“We’re home,” Jim called out.
“I can see that,” Julia answered. “I can also see you must have done more than just relax last night. What happened to your face?”
Jim’s jaw was swollen, and black and blue, from where the Double M cowboy’s fist had connected. Smoky’s was in even worse shape.
“We got into a bit of a scrape in town,” he answered.
“It looks like it was more than just a bit of a scrape,” Cindy said, looking at Smoky’s battered face. “Just what did happen?”
“Like Jim says, there was a bit of trouble,” Smoky replied.
“Yeah. Let’s just say the next time we get the notion to relax with a night in town, just shoot us,” Jim said, with a chuckle. “It’d be more merciful. Suffice it to say we did everything but.”
“Meaning what, exactly?” Julia demanded.
“Meanin’ three hombres tried to rob O’Malley’s restaurant while we were eatin’ supper,” Smoky said. “They were bent on killin’ some folks, too, seems like. Don stopped one by stickin’ a meat fork in his gut, then me’n Jim had to take care of the other two. They won’t be botherin’ anyone else.”
Julia and Cindy had been married to the lawmen long enough to know what Smoky meant. They didn’t need to ask the fate of the three would-be robbers.
“That still doesn’t explain the bruises on your face, Smoky,” Cindy said. “You didn’t get drunk and start a fight, did you?”
“Just a little. But no, I didn’t start that fight,” Smoky said.
“But we sure did finish it,” Jim continued. “We went over to the Shenandoah to get a few drinks and play some poker. Four new cowboys, young’ns who just hired on at the Double M, from what Josh Miles told us, decided they wanted to try’n prove they were tougher than us. They found out different.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Julia said. “Was anyone else hurt?”
“You mean durin’ the holdup? No,” Jim answered. “And those Double M boys ain’t hurt all that bad. They’ll be nursin’ some bruises for awhile, that’s all. More importantly, we got a wire from Headquarters. We’ve got orders. We have to leave, right now.”
“Right now?” Julia said. “I’d hoped you’d be home when Charlie and Mary Jane returned.”
“So had I,” Jim said, “But the message said Cap’n Storm needs us right quick, so whatever the trouble is, it’s gotta be somethin’ major. We’ll be ridin’ out soon as I can get my gear together. Oh, and after giving you these.”
He dismounted, as did Smoky, then untied the packages from their saddlehorns. Jim handed one to Julia, Smoky one to Cindy.
“Those are pecan pies from Ellen. They had some left over, so she sent you and Cindy each one,” he said. “Along with her love.”
“Well, these are certainly a welcome treat,” Cindy said. “Ellen makes the best pecan pies in the county.”
“We also got both of you a little somethin’, for comin’ up with the idea for me’n Jim to spend the night in town, havin’ fun, even though it didn’t quite work out the way we’d planned,” Smoky said. He gave Cindy the package containing her blouse. “Bethea Jarratt said you’d like these. I hope she was right.”
Cindy ripped open the wrapping, and unfolded the blouse.
“Smoky, it’s beautiful. Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a big kiss.
“This one’s yours, Julia,” Jim said, as he handed her his package. Julia exclaimed with delight when she opened it and saw the contents.
“This is perfect, Jim. It’s just wonderful.”
“Bethea said it was the latest fashion from St. Louis,” Jim explained.
“Well, it certainly is lovely. And the colors are perfect. But be honest. You two didn’t pick these out.”
“No, we sure didn’t,” Jim confessed. “Bethea did.”
“She chose well,” Cindy said. “I can hardly wait to try mine on. But as far as wearing it, that will have to wait until you two get back from wherever you’re headed.”
“Speaking of which, we’d better get movin’,” Jim said. “Julia, I’m sorry to have to leave on such short notice, but there’s no choice.”
“I understand, Jim. It’s not the first time this has happened, and it surely won’t be the last,” Julia answered. “All I can say is, like always, be careful.”
“The same goes for you, Smoky,” Cindy added.
“We’ll do our best,” Smoky promised. He and the ladies waited in the yard while Jim got his supplies together. Jim lingered in the corral for awhile, talking to Sam and giving him several peppermints. The aged paint, Jim’s longtime trail partner and friend, was finally content to remain behind when Jim headed out. He whickered, and nuzzled Jim’s chest, then lay down and stretched out on his side in the sun.
“That’s right, ol’ pard, just take it easy,” Jim said. “You’ve earned it.” He went back to where the others were waiting, put his spare clothes and supplies in his saddlebags, then took Julia into his arms for a long, lingering kiss. Smoky did the same with Cindy, like Jim and Julia reluctant to end their embrace. At last, they released their wives, and climbed into their saddles. With final good-byes, they put their horses into a lope, and headed for Austin. Julia and Cindy watched them until they rode out of sight.
● ● ●
Two hours later, Jim and Smoky reined up
in front of Ranger Headquarters. They dismounted, looped their horses’ reins around the tooth-marked hitch rail, Jim as always giving Sizzle a peppermint, then went inside. They walked down a long corridor, to Captain Earl Storm’s office. Storm heard them coming, and called to them before they even reached his door.
“Jim, Smoky, get on in here. I’ve been waitin’ on you. I was beginnin’ to think you’d never get here.”
They stepped inside Storm’s office.
“Howdy, Cap’n,” Jim said.
“Never mind that. We don’t even have time for howdies,” Storm answered. The captain had a build like a bulldog, was barrel-chested and lantern-jawed. A beat-up light Stetson covered thick, brown hair. His dark eyes glittered with anger. “Grab coffee if you want, then take a seat. I need you both on the trail, today.”
“There’s that much trouble, eh, Cap’n?” Jim said.
“There surely is,” Storm answered. He waited for his two Rangers to pour coffee, and take chairs, before he said more. While Smoky rolled and lit a quirly, Storm filled his pipe with tobacco, lit it, and took a long puff.
“What’s this all about, Cap’n?” Smoky asked. “I’ve never seen you so all-fired worked up, like you seem to be now.”
“Murderers. Raiders, committin’ mass killings, and wanton thievery and lootin’. Not to mention burnin’ every town they hit down to the ground, that’s what’s stickin’ in my craw,” Storm answered. “And we’ve got hardly any idea where to start searchin’ for those renegades. Here, take a look at these.”
Storm took several papers from the folder on his battered desk, and passed copies of each to Jim and Smoky. Their expressions grew darker as they read the reports. Jim gave a sharp whistle when he passed his papers back to Storm.
“I see what you mean, Cap’n.”
“That’s right. There’s a gang of raiders raisin’ Cain all over west Texas,” Storm said. “They only hit at night, or when the weather is bad. As you just read, they wear white robes, masks, and hats, and ride white or gray broncs. A couple of ’em have been shot durin’ their raids, mebbe killed, but no one knows for certain. They pick up their dead or wounded and take ’em with ’em when they ride out, after destroyin’ a town.”
“So no one can identify the shot hombres, and mebbe get a clue as to who some of the others are,” Smoky said.
“That’s right,” Storm agreed. “Folks have taken to callin’ those sidewinders the Ghost Riders. I hear tell some even believe they really are ghosts, and that no bullets can stop ’em. Well, I’m here to tell you they ain’t no ghosts, and they’ll find out lead sure can stop ’em… Ranger lead.”
“You have any idea where we should start searchin’ for ’em, Cap’n?” Jim asked.
“Just somewhere in west Texas,” Storm answered. “I know, that’s a whole lotta territory. But that’s about all I can come up with. So far, those so-called Ghost Riders have destroyed Menardville, Brady, and a couple of small settlements that weren’t even on the map, Hazard and Frawley. Those last two they completely wiped out. They’ve also hit several ranches, killed every last man on ’em, and burned them down too.”
Storm paused when more footsteps sounded in the hallway. A minute later, Jim Huggins stepped into the office. Like Jim Blawcyzk, Huggins had also been a lieutenant in the Rangers. His son Daniel had followed in his footsteps. Huggins and Jim had ridden together many times in the past. However, Huggins had retired to a professorship at Baylor University in Waco. Despite his new, mainly sedentary life, he was still tall and lean, his hair now more gray than brown. Since joining the faculty at Baylor, he had grown a neatly trimmed goatee.
“Howdy, Cap’n. Jim, Smoky. Good to see y’all again.” He nodded at each man. “Sorry I’m late. My train from Waco was delayed by a bent rail.”
“I’m surprised to see you here, J.R.,” Jim said. “I thought you settled down to the nice, peaceful life of a college professor.”
“I thought I had,” J.R. answered. “However, truthfully, I was gettin’ kinda bored. That, and classes are out for the summer. So, when Cap’n Storm got in contact with me, and asked for my help, I said why not? I’m back, at least for this one job.”
“That’s all right, you’re bein’ a bit late, J.R.,” Storm said. For years, whenever Huggins and Blawcyzk rode together, their same first names had led to some confusion, until it was finally decided that Huggins would go by his initials, J.R.
“J.R.,” Storm continued, “Take a quick look at those papers on my desk. Jim and Smoky can fill you in more as you ride.” To Jim and Smoky he said, “Like J.R. said, I talked him into comin’ out of retirement, and back to ridin’ for the Rangers. That’s how dire this situation is. Those Ghost Riders, whoever they may be, are wreakin’ havoc all over west Texas. I want them found, and stopped, before they can strike again. Any questions?”
“I’ve got none,” Jim said.
“Me neither,” Smoky added.
“None from me, either,” J.R. said. He looked at the map on the wall, behind Storm’s desk. Pins marked the locations where the raiders had struck. “Seems to me that outfit’s makin’ a circle. They started in Menardville, hit Brady, then doubled back to attack Hazard and Frawley. I figure if we head west, from where they hit last, Frawley, we’ll come across some sign of ’em. An outfit that large can’t just disappear without a trace.”
“That’s why I talked you into comin’ back to the Rangers, J.R.,” Storm said. “That logical mind of yours. Jim, here’s, the best tracker in the outfit, and Smoke’s close behind. Jim’s also the best rider we’ve got, and we’re sure gonna need his, and his horse’s, stamina when it comes to chasin’ down that bunch. However, J.R., you can think ahead, mebbe figure out the gang’s next move. And there isn’t any question the three of you are among the best fighters I’ve got. I figure if y’all can’t find and stop the Ghost Riders, no one can.”
“It’s just like playin’ chess,” J.R. said. “A matter of odds, and moves. We’ll find those men, Cap’n.”
“We sure will,” Jim added. “Bet your hat on it. But I think we’d also better stop in Brady and Menardville on our way, just to see if we can come up with more information. Mebbe by now someone’ll recollect somethin’ about one or more of those riders.”
“I certainly hope so,” Storm said. “Both about the information, and runnin’ down that outfit. But this is probably the toughest assignment you’ve ever been handed. I wish I could give you more to go on, but I just don’t have anythin’ else. All I can say is good luck, and may the Good Lord ride with you.”
“We appreciate that,” Jim said. “Smoke, J.R., let’s hit our saddles. Adios, Cap’n. We’ll get in touch with you as soon as we have anythin’ at all, as to those Ghost Riders’ whereabouts.”
“Ghost Riders!” Storm snorted in disgust. “They sure ain’t no ghosts. They’re flesh and blood riders, real bad hombres who need a dose of lead to stop ’em. I’m countin’ on you three to do just that. Vaya con Dios.”
Jim, Smoky, and J.R. left the captain’s office, went outside, untied their horses, and mounted. J.R.’s mount was a blocky, blaze-faced, dark chestnut gelding.
“Nice lookin’ cayuse, J.R.,” Jim said. “Appears he’s a study bronc, and has plenty of bottom.”
“His name’s Monte, and he’ll do,” J.R. answered.
“Good. Now let’s ride.”
Jim swung Sizzle away from the rail, and put him into a trot, with Smoky and J.R. just behind. Twenty minutes later, they passed the Austin city limits, and pointed their horses westward.
7
Three days of steady riding later, Jim, Smoky, and J.R. were nearing their first destination, Brady. Dusk found them still a little more than twenty miles from town, so they made camp for the night alongside a nameless creek, which fed into the San Saba River. They cared for their horses, then picketed them for the night on a patch of bunch grass, except for Sizzle, who would never wander far from Jim. By the time that was done, full dark had fallen.
“You gonna cook supper again tonight, Jim?” Smoky asked.
“Don’t I always?” Jim answered.
“Yeah, I reckon you do. That’s because outta the three of us, you’re the only one who can come up with somethin’ that’s almost edible,” Smoky said. “Me’n J.R. can’t even boil coffee without burnin’ it, let alone cook up a mess of vittles.”
“That’s the Gospel truth,” J.R. added. “Why, if I hadn’t married Cora, I’d have plumb starved to death years ago. She tried to teach me how to cook, but it just didn’t take. So, like usual, me’n Smoke will gather up the firewood while you get things ready.”
“Too bad it’s gonna be bacon, biscuits, and beans again,” Smoky said. “I’d sure have liked to bring down one of those pronghorns we spotted this afternoon, but I couldn’t chance a rifle shot. That might’ve brought us some unwanted attention.”
“Well, if it’s any comfort, when we get to Brady tomorrow, we’ll have ourselves a good supper in one of the restaurants,” Jim answered.
“If there are still any left,” J.R. said. “Don’t forget, the town was pretty much destroyed. We’ll be lucky if any of the eatin’ places were spared.”
“If not, I’m fairly certain we’ll find someplace where we can round up some grub,” Jim said. “Meantime, the sooner you boys gather up some firewood, the sooner we’ll eat.”
● ● ●
A fitful breeze sprang up while the three Rangers ate their supper. Scudding clouds would reveal, then obscure, the waxing gibbous moon. After last cups of coffee, and a final cigarette for Smoky, they pulled off their boots, hats, and gunbelts, then slid under their blankets and pillowed their heads on their saddles. With their six-guns near at hand, in case of any unwanted visitors in the middle of the night, they prepared to sleep, since dawn would find them once again on the trail.
Jim, as usual, said his evening prayers. Ordinarily, by the time he was done, Smoky and J. R. would be fast asleep, snoring softly. However, when Jim rolled onto his side, he noticed Smoky had lit another cigarette, while J.R. had pushed his Stetson back from over his eyes and was staring at the sky.
The Ghost Riders Page 6