Ace High (Ben Blue Book 3)

by Lou Bradshaw

  “Yeah, Max, I’m afraid you’re right. I’m also afraid that it’s not over…. Not over by a long shot.”

  Chapter 9

  Trinidad was the next town on our route. We hoped to pick up a few more riders there, but I had a hunch that Slack and Ralls were there ahead of us looking for a few more riders also. Their chances were much better than ours of finding the kind of men needed. Trinidad was well known for harboring a rougher sort of men. It was out in the middle of nowhere, and the town law was known to be a little forgiving, as long as it didn’t kill too many productive citizens.

  On the other hand, a town like Trinidad can also have its share of the kind of men we were looking for. Many a good solid puncher has found himself without prospects and down to his last two bits in a place like Trinidad just hanging on till the next herd came through. We’d just have to wait and see what we found there.

  We held the herd on some grass, north of Trinidad, and Ben gave the boys a chance to go into town and wet their whistles, while he and I with the help of Tate and Dick stayed with the herd. He advanced a few dollars to those who didn’t have any whistle wetting funds. He told them that anyone that had to be bailed out of jail might just have to sit there until he came through on the way back to Taos. Ben had a way of painting a vivid picture of what just might happen if a fella got stupid. They were told to be back before sundown, and they all were.

  After sundown, Ben, the two younger ones, and I rode into town. Ben asked me if I had enough money for a couple of drinks, and I told him I was fine. He asked Tate and Dick if they had enough money to get drunk and laid. Their eyes lit up and said they didn’t have more than enough for couple of beers each.

  “That’s good.” He said. “Now I won’t have to fret about you two… Be back at the herd in about two hours…. Before you get started on those beers, would you mind goin’ by the post office and gettin any mail for Max and me?” It dawned on me that this big galloot, seemed to never give an order. It always came out as a request and was usually accompanied with a please or thank you. No wonder the crew liked him.

  We went into the first set of swinging doors we came to. I didn’t know how he was going to approach the subject of looking for riders, but I soon found out. He walked up to the crowded bar, and ordered a bottle of rye. Then he walked to the end of the bar where he could see the whole room. Next he lined up a half dozen glasses and filled them with the whiskey.

  Banging a beer mug on the bar a couple of times he said in a voice that carried the entire room, “Men, I’m Ben Blue of the MB connected, out of Taos, New Mexico. I’ve got a herd north of town and I’m looking for about four or five riders who don’t mind helpin’ me push those critters up to the railhead… I don’t mind tellin you that there was probably a couple of gents come through here recently tryin’ to hire men who would help him steal that herd.”

  “I’ve got a glass of rye poured here for anybody willing to take a ride up to Pueblo. Now come on up and get your drink.”

  Chairs started scraping, and boots started shuffling. Before I knew it there were nine men lined up for drinks. A couple of them were there for the drink with no intentions of riding herd on anything livelier than a bar railing. Ben singled them out right off the bat and asked if they had a saddle and a rope. One of those boys looked up at Ben with rheumy eyes and asked, “What fer?”

  Ben told him and another of similar condition to go ahead and finish their drinks, but he couldn’t use them. One fella, couldn’t seem to remember if he’d ever been on a trail drive, or who he had ever worked for handling cattle. We had hired five experienced men willing to risk their necks to get that beef to the railhead. He never held back on the chance of rustlers or Indians, they knew what to expect, but signed on anyway.

  Sitting in the back of the room on a chair tipped back against the wall was a crusty old fella. His hat was in worse shape than mine, and his fringed buckskin jacket was far from new, but it was all in one piece. The droop of his mustaches and the gray stubble on his jaws disguised the fact that his eyes were clear and missed nothing. The rifle resting against the wall beside him was old but well cared for, as was the colt riding in his holster.

  Ben followed my gaze and smiled, “Max, my friend, I think we may have found the link to mend the chink in our armor.” He took a fresh if not clean glass from the back bar, and lead me over to where the object of our attention was sitting.

  Setting the bottle and glass in the middle of the table, Ben asked if he minded. In a slow deep rumbling drawl we heard, “Not unless you’re plannin’ on sittin’ in the chair I’m usin’, I don’t. Otherwise I might.”

  Ben chuckled and said, “Well I sure wouldn’t want to take a fellas chair when he looks so comfortable in it.” Then he moved the bottle and glass in front of the gent and said, “Hep yourself.”

  The man tipped his chair back to the floor, pulled the cork and poured himself a full glass of rye. Then he looked at Ben, lifted the glass and said, “To your continued good health, Ben Blue.”

  “You know me?” Ben asked.

  “Nope, but heard you announce your name when you come in. I cut your trail back a ways, and then I come across those two graves yesterday… From the look of the signs there those boys got more than they bargained for… You git em?” He asked.

  “No, those are his.” Turning his head in my direction. “They made a play for the herd, and their timing was just a little bit out of whack. They rode right into it.”

  “I take it you don’t care to be pushin a herd of dusty smelly cow critters up to Pueblo. Otherwise you’d have come up to the bar and signed on. Is that a fair assessment, Mr. ….?”

  “Cain. Just Cain… Oh I wouldn’t mind it so much if I knew how to do it, but I don’t know nuthin about cattle.”

  Cain was a man of middle years. I’d guess he was somewhere between forty and fifty, but the wind, rain, and elements had taken a toll on his exposed skin. The look of his face reminded me of boot leather and granite or something in between. He had a lantern jaw, and ragged drooping mustaches which did a fair job of hiding his mouth. His homemade buckskin shirt and breeches were old and worn but in good repair.

  At first glance, Cain was just another reprobate of an era which had passed away. The beaver skinning mountain men were deader than Hogan’s goat. But on closer inspection, you could see the strength and character in his face despite the lines and scars. You could see the suppleness in his movements…. No, he may be the last of that breed, but he was far from extinct.

  “Well, Cain, I think we’ve got us a pretty fair crew now, but what I need now is someone who can read sign and see without being seen. In other words, I need an Injun or a frontiersman…. Do you fit either of those descriptions?”

  “I reckon I’ve lived long enough among both and left enough dead among both of ‘em to be either one or neither one… depending on who you was to ask.”

  “You got a horse, Cain? I’ve got plenty if you don’t. I can supply all the .44 cartridges you need. Whatta ya say?”

  Cain stuck out his big raw boned hand and Ben took it. I could almost feel the strength of that grip. Two men had come together. Lord help those who get in their way.

  We were back in camp before Tate and Dick showed up, and when they got in they were delivering mail. Ben got two letters, I got one, and Dick got a letter from his sister… seems that he was about to be an uncle.

  We settled down to reading our mail. I already knew who mine was from and was hoping for some good news… which I got. Izzy was on her way to Denver City by stage. She had mailed the letter as she was leaving Las Vegas. So she could easily be in Pueblo by now or even Denver City.

  Ben read his first letter and smiled all the way through it, so I could only imagine it was from his sweetheart back in Taos. When he opened the second letter, he pulled out a telegraph message. That message must not have been from a sweetheart because he didn’t smile at all. After reading it twice he said, “Thanks a lot, Jasper!” but there
wasn’t much thankfulness in his voice.

  Handing the slip of yellow paper to me, I unfolded it and read,

  To Ben Blue…General Delivery:… Trinidad, Colorado

  Ben, trust God, your crew, and your shotgun. (stop) No help within 200 miles. (stop) Pin it on if you need to. (stop)

  From Jasper Stewart… US Marshal… Santa Fe New Mexico

  What’s it mean, Ben, besides we’re on our own?” I asked.

  “At Cimarron, when we first got a whiff of the deal that Ralls and Slack had been playin’, I sent a letter to Jasper Stewart by way of Pueblo, where they sent a telegraph on to Santa Fe. This is his answer.” Then he reached into his inside vest pocket and pulled out a Deputy US Marshal’s badge.

  “I guess, he expects me to pull that out and wave it at Slack and Ralls as they ride off with the herd.” He replaced the badge to where it had come from, tossed the rest of his coffee into the fire, and said, “I’ll be going back into town in the morning, so if you would please, get the herd moving, and don’t worry about Cain… He knows what he needs to do.”

  Early the following morning we were moving them out. With eleven men in saddles, keeping the herd moving was the least of our problems. It was almost easy. And with Cain out there watching for boogers, we felt a lot better. The whole atmosphere of the drive had changed. Smiles were more in evidence and some good natured kidding and joshing became normal instead of the frown lines and worried eyes we saw just a few days earlier.

  Ben caught up to the herd around noontime. He told me that he’d had a confrontation with the local sheriff about the man cooperating with him. “Seems that the boy likes a wide open county. He didn’t want any outsiders coming in and telling him what to do… I told him that if one of my men was hurt or if any of those cattle were stolen because he refused to take action he could expect to have himself kicked out of office and a deputy sheriff sittin in his chair until they can hold an election. Or he could be jailed if we found out he was in cahoots with the rustlers…. I don’t think any of that is true, but he doesn’t know it.”

  “After that I went to the post office and sent letters to each little town along the way to be on the watch for Ralls and Slack. And signed them Deputy US Marshal Blue… That probably won’t get them captured, but at least they’ll be known about.”

  Cain had been in camp that first night, and none of us had seen him since. I asked Ben if he was worried and he said, “Not really, Max, I don’t expect to hear from him, unless he’s got somethin’ to report, or if he gets tired of eatin’ jerky and berries. There’s some people you just gotta let do their jobs their way… Those few minutes in that saloon told me all I needed to know. He looked like a beat up old drifter, but his guns were well cared for and well used. If he don’t warn us about what’s out there, it’ll be because he’s dead.”

  Sure enough, about an hour after sundown Cain showed up at the chuck wagon filling a plate and asking for Ben. Jesse, the cook told him that Ben was with the herd and pointed him in my direction. We rode out to where I figured to find Ben, and within a few minutes he came around. I hailed him with, “Halooo Andy Moore” and Ben shambled his horse toward us.

  “Howdy, Cain, been kinda expectin’ you one of these nights. See anything out there?”

  “Howdy yourself, Red… Yeah, I seen plenty of sign on both sides of the trail. Best I can figure is about twelve to fifteen men doggin the herd… Well let’s call it eleven to fourteen. I ran into a feller this morning… horse snorted and he spotted me, so I had to tommyhawk him.” He touched the hatchet at his belt. “He warn’t more than twenty feet, so I just flung it. Split his breast bone… it did.”

  Ben asked, “Did you get rid of the body?”

  “Nope, I took his stuff, and then I took his scalp so they’d figure the Cheyenne got him. I give his horse a good slap. When they backtrack it they’ll find what I want ‘em to find.”

  “That ain’t the whole of it, Red. That bunch is doggin’ the herd and there’s injuns doggin’ them. Looks like them injuns is waitin to see who gits the herd, and then take it from the winner. Guess they figure to let the whites kill each other off and take what they want when the odds is thinned down.”

  “Any idea where their camp is?” Ben asked.

  “They got a place set up back in the breaks of a creek about five miles up from here.”

  “D’you think I could get up close enough to do some mischief without bein’ seen?”

  Wal, I don’t know how good a woodsman you are, but I could do her for you.”

  Ben thought for a few seconds, and then he said, “How ‘bout you take me there, and I’ll try to remember everything Crazy Jim taught me. If it looks like I ain’t gonna do, then all you got to do is hit the saddle a runnin’.”

  Cain looked up and asked, “You know Crazy Jim?”

  “Yep, rode with him in the Nations. He kinda took my brother and me under his wing for a while. I been thankin’ him ever since.”

  “You’ll do. If Jim didn’t think you had the makins, you’d have never seen him.”

  I took over the rest of Ben’s night herd chore while he and Cain went to saddle fresh horses.

  Chapter 10

  That was the last I saw or heard from either of them until about sunup the next morning. They came dragging in looking like the most God awful pair I’d ever seen. Both were black from head to toe with more than a few burnt spots here and there. First thing they did was grab cups, and the second thing they did was grab the coffee pot. I sat there with my own cup watching them drink their coffee and snicker.

  Finally, I hated to do it, but I had to ask, “Well…. What the hell happened out there?” Just like a couple of schoolboys, they both busted out laughing. “If you two are gonna just stand there laughing like a couple of hyenas, then I’m goin’ out with the herd.”

  Ben got some semblance of control and said, “Sorry Max, but it was about the funniest thing I’d ever seen, and if I hadn’t seen it I’d never have believed it.” And then he started laughing again. I cleared my throat and scowled. “Okay okay…”

  “Here’s what happened, Max, and it’s the honest to God’s truth… We found the camp without any problem. They had a campfire that was brighter than a beacon. First thing we did was scout out their horse herd, and see if it had a guard on it. We found it and the man watchin’ ‘em was leanin’ up against a tree smokin’, so Cain just walked up to him and asked him for a Lucifer. The fella started diggin in his shirt pocket, and I came from around the tree an’ gave him a real headache with a pistol butt. He just naturally fell… kinda like a chopped down pine…. Whump!”

  “Well, we got him all hogtied with rawhide strings and stuffed his mouth with his own kerchief. Hope it wasn’t too dirty. Then we moved up on the camp to kinda get a look at it. We wanted to see if there was a chance of mischief, that big cozy lookin’ campfire was just the kind of mischief we were lookin’ for.”

  “Next we went back and cut the picket ropes, to kinda give those animals a chance to move on to some better grass. Then Cain circled around the camp until he was just about opposite from me. When he got set, he knew I was already in place waitin for him, so he just put three shots into that fire scatterin’ sparks and ashes from hell to yonder. Then he got on his horse and headed back to where I was.”

  “Now, the last time I came up the trail with Juan Domingo’s drive, we found a rock slide in the pass and lost two days clearing it out. So I brought me a half dozen little one pound cans of help on this trip. Of which, I had two in a sack tied behind my saddle.”

  “After Cain scooted out of there, and those boys had started comin’ out from cover, I put a load of buckshot into that very same fire. That sent ‘em back scratchin’ for somethin’ to crawl under. When they got good and quiet again I yelled out, ‘Hey you Ralls and you too Slack. I saw you both sittin’ there by the fire. I told you that I wouldn’t take it very friendly if I found you doggin’ my herd. And I don’t.’ With that I took out one of
those little cans and threw it into that fire. Now’ there wasn’t more than four or five inches of fuse on it. Well you can guess what happened next. When that thing blew up, you never saw such a sight.”

  “Kabooom! She went, throwin’ ashes, sparks, smoke, dirt, soot, half burned tree limbs in all directions and cussin’ men diggin’ holes. By that time, Cain was next to me with the horses, so I called out and told them I was sorry to have ruined their fire, and I was gonna build em a new one. Then I lit that second fuse and flung it in the direction of where the fire had been. I’m sure when those boys saw that can comin in trailin sparks, they was diggin’ deeper. We were makin’ some pretty long tracks when that second can blew.”

  “There were horses runnin’ in every direction. Max Bell, I sure am sorry you weren’t there to see it. I… You’d have loved it.”

  I had to agree with him, I would have loved it. We talked about it for a bit, and none of us really felt like that would stop ‘em for long. But it would sure give them reason to stop and think it over. Slack was said to be a vengeful spiteful man, and he was surely building up some real spiteful vengeance toward both me and Ben… but it sure would have been fun watching him taking cover.

  The next few days were uneventful, if you can call dirt, dust, sweat, and three thousand and five hundred smelly, hot, stupid, and obstinate bovine as your constant companions uneventful. Well that’s the way it was and the way it had been since Goodnight moved the first bunch up this trail. Cain had disappeared again, and we could only assume he was doing his job the way only he could.

  It was getting close to time to start looking for a place to bed ‘em down on the third day, when we heard the shots. It was two rifle shots in quick succession and then a lot of fire. It was a battle in the hills, and I was afraid that Cain was in the middle of it. Suddenly riders were coming from all directions… and they were all shooting.