Hunt for the White Wolf

by J. R. Roberts

  “Forty-two?” Clint asked. “How do you know that?”

  “I counted.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Like you just said,” Jesse replied, “ya gotta know everything about your prey when you’re hunting. Don’t matter if it’s man or beast.”

  “Speaking of man,” Clint said, “I’m not feeling our tail anymore.”

  “Maybe he gave up,” Jesse said.

  “Yeah, maybe,” Clint said.

  “You don’t think so?”

  “I’m thinking about how close we came to Helena.”

  “And?”

  “He could have diverted to Helena, got some help, figured he could easily pick up our trail again. With two horses and a mule, we aren’t exactly hard to track.”

  “Help, huh?”

  “Well, I’m figuring he’s seen me and knows I’m with you.”

  “Does he know who you are?”

  “I don’t know,” Clint said. “I guess he would have had to recognize me.”

  “So maybe he don’t know who you are,” Jesse said. “Maybe he just thinks I got another man with me, but not the Gunsmith. So we got surprise on our side.”

  “I’d rather not,” Clint said. “Bad enough we’ve got to deal with a wolf. I don’t want to have to deal with two, three, maybe more men coming up on us.”

  “Well,” Jesse said, “I’ll leave that to you. My part is trackin’ the wolf. Your part is watchin’ for the men.”

  “I thought my part was backing you in case there’s more than one wolf.”

  “Well,” Jesse Trapp said, “we’ll just have to back each other.”

  “That’s what being partners is all about,” Clint replied.

  SIXTEEN

  It got colder as they moved farther north. By the time they made camp it had started to snow. Clint could see what Jesse meant about the skins. Smelly or not, they were keeping Jesse warm. Clint felt a chill right down to his bones.

  “When did you kill that buffalo you’re wearing?” he asked over the fire.

  “Many years ago.”

  “You wouldn’t happen to have another one hanging around, would you?”

  “Nope,” Jesse said. “This is my only one. Do you have another shirt in your saddlebags?”

  “A couple.”

  “My advice is to put them on, then put your jacket back on. You should have brought a heavier coat.”

  “Maybe I can buy one when we get to Wolf Creek.”

  “There’s a store in Marysville,” Jesse said, “but it’s a few miles out of our way.”

  “That’s okay,” Clint said. “I’ll wait ’til we get to Wolf’s Creek. Meanwhile, I’ll just get those other shirts.”

  “You might want to get your horse’s blanket, too,” Jesse said. “Believe me, you won’t mind the smell.”

  Later, wearing two shirts, his jacket, and wrapped in the horse blanket, he found he didn’t mind the smell.

  It wasn’t snowing where Cole West camped with his three partners.

  “Why can’t we keep goin’?” an impatient Shoemaker asked.

  “I’m not takin’ a chance on my horse breakin’ a leg in the dark just to satisfy you, Shoe,” Cole said.

  “Me, neither,” Truett said. “It’s like Cole says, we’ll catch ’em. There’s no hurry.”

  Shoemaker looked to Willis for support, but the man just drank his coffee and ate his beans.

  “Shut up and eat, Shoe,” Cole said.

  “That ain’t no way to talk to me,” Shoemaker said. “I come all this way to help you.”

  “Yeah, you did,” Cole said, “and I appreciate it, but if you don’t keep quiet I’m gonna have to shoot you.”

  Shoemaker grumbled under his breath, and ate.

  Jesse took the first watch, drank a whole pot of coffee while he did, then made a fresh pot before he went to wake Clint up.

  “Anything?” Clint asked, getting to his feet.

  “Ain’t seen or heard a thing,” Jesse said, settling down on his bedroll. “I made ya a fresh pot of coffee.”

  “Much obliged, Jesse.”

  Clint took his horse blanket to the fire, wrapped it around himself, and sat down. He poured himself a cup of coffee and enjoyed the way it warmed his hands, then his throat and his belly.

  He figured whoever was on their trail had camped far enough away so their fire couldn’t be seen. They were downwind so they didn’t have to worry about the smells of their camp reaching Clint and Jesse.

  Clint figured the man trailing Jesse had to be pretty smart. He’d stayed out of sight, had probably gotten himself some help, made sure Clint hadn’t spotted him while actually letting him get by. And he’d managed to resist taking a shot at Clint, which was smart. Clint was not his main concern. That was Jesse Trapp. Clint wondered, when he and Jesse finally caught the man, what his gripe would turn out to be.

  SEVENTEEN

  By midday the next day they’d made it to Wolf Creek.

  Before they arrived, Caleb Farnsworth rode into town with a few of his boys and stopped at the Wayfarer’s Saloon.

  “Set ’em up for my boys,” he told the bartender. “Beer, no whiskey.”

  The bartender drew four beers and set them in front of Farnsworth and his men.

  “Any luck, Mr. Farnsworth?” he asked.

  “No,” Farnsworth said.

  “That wolf’s gotta be the devil himself,” Lee Thompson said. “We’d catch his trail, track him a while, and then suddenly . . . gone. Just like that. Like he just lifted up in the air.”

  “Shut up, Lee,” Farnsworth said. “It’s just a damn wolf.”

  “Sure, boss.”

  The four men, dog tired from a fruitless hunt, hung their heads over their beer mugs.

  Over in one corner sat Evangeline Parkins, alone at a table with a beer of her own. She was the only woman in town who ever went into the Wayfarer’s, and the only one they’d let into the saloon. Actually, they let her in because if they didn’t she’d probably kick their rumps. The only other women in the place were two girls working the saloon floor.

  She saw Farnsworth and his boys come in and waited’til they were set up at the bar. Once they were, she picked up her beer and walked over.

  “Mr. Farnsworth,” she said, sidling up next to him.

  Farnsworth looked at her and then rolled his eyes.

  “Evangeline.”

  “No luck catchin’ that wolf, huh?”

  “No, no luck,” he said. “We caught sight of his trail a time or two, but no luck in trackin’ him down.”

  “Never even got a shot at him?” she asked.

  “Never even got a whiff.”

  “Well,” she said, “I told you I’d kill it for you. All you got to do is hire me.”

  “Ain’t no woman gonna catch that devil,” Lee Thompson said. “No sir.”

  “That’s for sure,” Emmett Dexter said, laughing. “But then, Evangeline ain’t exactly a woman, is she?”

  “You shut your mouth, Emmett,” Evangeline said. “I’m more woman than you’d ever be able to handle.”

  “How’s a fella supposed to know that?” Dexter asked. “Can’t see nothin’ under all that dirt and those skins.”

  She decided to ignore him and looked at Farnsworth again.

  “Whaddaya got to lose, Mr. Farnsworth?” she asked.

  “Evangeline, I’ve hired a real wolf hunter. He’ll be here any day now. If he wants you to go out with him, that’s fine. Maybe he’ll even pay you to back him up. But I am not gonna pay a woman to go out there and get herself torn apart by a wolf. No sir.”

  “I can take care of myself, Mr. Farnsworth.”

  “Yeah, maybe you can,” he said. “But I ain’t gonna have your death on my conscience, Evangeline. No sir.”

  “Mr. Farnsworth—”

  “Come on, Evangeline,” he said. “I’ll buy you another beer if you’ll just keep quiet and stop jawing at me.”

  Seeing she wasn’t going
to get what she wanted from him and said, “Yeah, okay, I’ll take another beer.”

  He bought her a cold beer and she took it back to her corner table.

  Clint and Jesse rode in, drawing some looks from the people on the street—probably because of the way Jesse looked in his skins, and the fully packed mule following along after them.

  “What’s the name of the man who sent for you?” Clint asked.

  “Farnsworth,” Jessie said, “Caleb Farnsworth. He’s got a spread north of here, is losing his stock to the wolf, and had a man killed.”

  “Are we supposed to ride out to his place?”

  “I suppose,” Jesse said. “But I’d rather get us a couple of beers first, before we do that.”

  “And maybe a room,” Clint said, “and a bath.”

  “A bath?” Jesse said, appalled. “Now that’s just crazy talk!”

  “Well,” Clint said, “let’s go to a saloon. Maybe they can give us directions out to the ranch.”

  EIGHTEEN

  There was another saloon across the street from the Wayfarer’s. Lee Thompson was staring out the window and saw the two men dismounting and going into the smaller saloon.

  “Hey, boss?”

  “Yeah, Lee?” Farnsworth said.

  “Some fella wearing a whole bunch of buffalo skins just went into Rocky’s saloon across the street,” Thompson said. “You suppose that’s your wolf hunter?”

  “Might be,” Farnsworth said, looking into his empty beer mug. “Maybe we better go on across and find out for sure, huh?”

  Evangeline came running over as the four men pushed away from the bar.

  “You mind if I tag along, Mr. Farnsworth?” she asked. “I wanna meet this great wolf hunter you sent for.”

  “Sure, Evangeline,” he said, “you come ahead. We’ll all go and meet him at the same time.”

  “Thanks.”

  Clint and Jesse Trapp were standing at the small bar having a beer when the batwings opened. Several men and a woman walked in. The woman was dressed similarly to Jesse, in skins, though hers weren’t made from buffalo.

  “Jesse Trapp?” one man asked.

  Jesse turned to face them.

  “That’s right.”

  The spokesman extended his hand.

  “Caleb Farnsworth.”

  Jesse shook the man’s hand and said to Clint, “This is the man who sent for me. Mr. Farnsworth, this is my partner, Clint Adams.”

  “Clint Adams?” Farnsworth said.

  “The Gunsmith?” one of the others said.

  “I didn’t know the Gunsmith was a wolfer,” Lee Thompson said.

  “I’m not,” Clint said. “That’s Jesse’s talent. I’m just along as backup.”

  “Well,” Farnsworth said, “we’re glad to have the both of you here. My boys and I just came in from tryin’ to track that animal for ten hours. We never got close.”

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” Jesse said. “If you been after him that long it’s gonna make it harder for me to get close.”

  “We couldn’t just sit around and let it kill more stock, or men,” Thompson said. “What if it starts goin’ after women and children?”

  “Keep your women and children inside,” Jesse said.

  “For how long?” one of the men asked.

  “As long as the wolf is out there,” Jesse said.

  “Are you sure it’s the same wolf?” Clint asked. “I mean, that the one that killed the stock is the same one that attacked the . . . man? Men? How many?”

  “It’s killed two men,” Farnsworth said.

  “What were the men doing?” Clint asked.

  “One of them heard his horses in distress, went out to see what was wrong, and was attacked. He was torn apart,” Farnsworth said.

  “The second man was part of a party that was huntin’ the wolf,” Thompson said.

  “Who are you?” Clint asked.

  “Lee Thompson,” the man said. “I work for Mr. Farnsworth.”

  “Okay, go ahead,” Clint said.

  “That’s it. Four men were out huntin’ the wolf. They split up and Herb Walter was killed.”

  “All right,” Jesse said. “From this point on nobody hunts. Pass the word.”

  “We will,” Farnsworth said.

  “Mr. Farnsworth, we’ll need just one man to show us the places where the wolf hit.”

  “I’ll do it,” Thompson said.

  “Thompson knows all the spots,” Farnsworth told them.

  “Okay,” Clint said. “Take the rest of the men and go home. The girl, too.”

  “I don’t work for him,” Evangeline said.

  “Don’t care who you work for, missy,” Jesse said. “You got to get inside, where it’s safe.”

  “I wanna hunt the wolf,” she said. “I’m a good hunter.”

  Jesse looked at Farnsowrth.

  “This is Evangeline Parkins. She lives around here.”

  “Miss Parkins,” Clint said, “you better go home.”

  “I ain’t,” she said. “I’m gonna hunt that wolf with or without ya, so you might as well let me go with ya.”

  Clint and Jesse exchanged a look.

  “I can shoot,” she said. “Real good. And track. I’m a good hunter.”

  “You hunt them animals you’re wearin’?” Jesse asked.

  “Sure did.”

  “Those are wolf skins.”

  “Yup.”

  “Grays.”

  “Two of ’em,” she said. “I killed ’em. Tracked ’em and killed ’em.”

  Jesse looked at Farnsworth.

  “She’s got experience,” the man said. “Some.”

  “We should get settled,” Clint said, “and then get started.”

  “Thompson will take you to the hotel,” Farnsworth said. “They’re holdin’ one room, but you can have two. Take care of that, Lee.”

  “Yessir.”

  “When will you start?” Farnsworth asked.

  “Your man can take us out in the mornin’,” Jesse said. “I wanna see where the two men were killed.”

  “Okay,” Farnsworth said. “Thompson’ll be here early.”

  “What about me?” Evangeline asked. “Can I go?”

  Jesse looked at her.

  “You be here in the mornin’, missy,” he said. “You’ll have breakfast with us.”

  “What’s that mean?” she asked.

  “If you can convince us that you have value,” Clint said, “you can come.”

  Jesse pointed his finger at Farnsworth. “Keep the rest of your men home,” he said. “And all the people in town and who live in the area. Everybody inside, or in town. Got it?”

  “I got it,” Farnsworth said.

  “Who’s the law in town?” Clint asked.

  “We got a deputy,” Farnsworth said.

  “No sheriff?”

  “I forget to tell you?” Farnsworth asked. “He was one of the men whom the wolf killed.”

  “Jesus,” Clint said. “Okay, we’ll probably have to talk to the deputy.”

  “I’ll have him come and see you,” Farnsworth promised.

  Clint looked at Thompson.

  “The hotel?”

  “Follow me.”

  NINETEEN

  Outside of town Cole, Willis, Shoemaker, and Truett stayed their horses and looked down on the town.

  “They’re in there,” Shoemaker said.

  “Yeah,” Cole said.

  “That mule slowed ’em down enough for us to catch up to them,” Willis said. “We’re only hours behind them.”

  “They’re probably in a hotel bed,” Truett said. “We can take ’em there.”

  “No,” Cole said. “We’ll take them outside. We got time.”

  “So what do we do?” Willis asked. “Camp out here in the cold while they’re warm in a hotel bed?”

  Cole looked at the three men.

  “No,” he said finally, “we’re gonna be warm in some hotel beds, too.”

>   “How we gonna do that?” Truett asked.

  “You and Shoe ride in now, get yerselves a hotel room. If there’s more than one hotel, you get a room in the first one you come to. Me and Willis will get a room in the next one.”

  “What if they see us?” Shoe asked.

  “It don’t matter,” Cole said. “They don’t know what you look like. They don’t know what we look like.”

  “Four more strangers ridin’ into town?” Willis asked. “They’re gonna figure we’re followin’ them.”

  “It don’t matter,” Cole said. “They can’t prove nothin’.”

  “And what are we gonna do then?” Truett asked. “Once we’re in town.”

  “We’re gonna watch ’em,” Cole said. “We’re gonna watch ’em real close.”

  Shoemaker and Truett rode into town while Cole and Willis continued to watch.

  “What are we doin’, Cole?”

  “We’re givin’ ’em somethin’ to think about,” Cole said. “I want Jesse Trapp to wonder about it before he dies.”

  “And what if they come after us?”

  “It’s two to four,” Cole said. “Don’t worry about it, Dave.”

  TWENTY

  At the hotel Clint got one room, Trapp another. They both stowed their gear and then met in the lobby. Thompson and Evangeline were still there, ignoring one another.

  “We got to take care of the horses and the mule,” Jesse said. “Then we could use a hot meal.”

  “There’s a real good café down the street,” Evangeline said. “I can take you there.”

  “No,” Clint said, “Jesse and I will eat alone tonight. You eat with us tomorrow.”

  “What about me?” Thompson asked.

  “Go home,” Clint said. “Be back here tomorrow.”

  “Okay,” Thompson said. “Okay.”

  They all stepped outside. The snow was starting to cover the ground.

  “How bad could this get?” Clint asked.

  “Bad,” Thompson said.

  “Real bad,” Evangeline said.

  “Great,” Clint said.

  Thompson went back to the Farnsworth ranch for the night. He’d be back in the morning.