by Lou Bradshaw
Tying my horse at the hitch rail outside the lodge, I took my bedroll and Winchester inside to get myself a room. I told the desk clerk that I was the advance man for the MB connected out of Taos, New Mexico, and we’d need accommodations for about eight riders and rooms for Mr. Blue and myself. He wrote all that down, and then he asked me if the men would want their own rooms or would they want to sleep in the bunkhouse?
“I’ll tell you what,” I said, “Those boys have been through an awful lot. Let’s give them rooms… two to a room… they’ve earned it.”
“Shall I put that on Mr. Blue’s bill, or will the men be paying for their own rooms?”
“No,” I told him, “Put it on my bill… I’m just thankful that they’re alive and can enjoy it. Oh… they’ll need baths too I suppose… I’ll let em pay for their own baths.”
He gave me my key and I went to my room to stow my gear, Next I went to the first saloon I came to. I’d found out a long time ago that you could learn more in a saloon by listening than you could learn in any office by asking questions.
I’d just got my boot heel hooked onto the brass bar rail with a mug of beer in my hand, when I heard somebody call out, “Ahh…Herr Bell, Come and zee choin us.”
Turning around I saw my new friend Jacob Wertz sitting at a table with two other gents dressed in town clothes. I walked across the room and pulled back a chair and eased myself into it. The two others were introduced as cattle buyers representing large Chicago meat packers. It was one of those friendly rivalries. Wertz, as I learned later was an independent buyer, and was often able to give a better price because his profit margin didn’t have to be so high, and he worked with a half dozen different packing companies from St. Louis to Philadelphia.
We talked for a bit about where to put the cattle and this and that without broaching the subject of price per head…. That was Ben’s business, and as soon as the herd was sold, I’d be on my way to Denver City and Miss Isadora.
After the next round of drinks were brought to the table, I asked if any of them knew John Slack, and if so, had they seen him around. The man on my left, by the name of Nolan, stiffened at the name. I took that to mean that he’d had problems with Slack and didn’t want to see any part of him. Wertz and the other buyer said they hadn’t seen him, and they were surprised because he usually was one of the first ones up the trail…. Him and Ralls, but they hadn’t been seen yet.
“Well,” I told them, “I thought I saw Slack in Pueblo this morning, but it was only a quick glance and he was going into a shop. Seemed to be in a hurry… guess they had some kind of sale going on.”
“As for Ralls.” I went on. “He’ll be coming up the trail with our herd along with about eight of his men. But they’re not coming out here with the herd. They’re going to the county jail.” Noland flinched again. “Ralls and Slack bit off a bit more than they could chew when they tried to steal that MB herd. They tried it twice… must have lost about fifteen men all told.” Another flinch from Nolan… Well now…
Our friend, Mr. Nolan was having a little problem with his nerves, so I thought to see if I could jangle them a little bit more. “Yessir, by the time all was said and done, that Ralls and Slack bunch was pretty much shot to rags…. Ralls and Slack and about five others took off with a thousand head. Me an’ Blue and two others trailed ‘em and hung a bunch of ‘em and got the cattle back.” Nolan was sweatin pretty freely by then and getting real fidgety, so I went on. “Ben Blue is about the most considerate person you’d ever meet up with, until you get his dander up… then look out. We lost about five or six men in that last raid, and I wouldn’t be surprised if we don’t see Ralls swingin’ from a gallows tree real soon, and that would go for anyone who was working with him.” That did it.
“Vatt’s ze matter Nholant, You done look so goot?” Jacob Wertz asked. Nolan mumbled something and knocked off his drink. “Ahch! You bain goot customer to Ralltz for four… five years now. Done vorry, you yust customer.”
Nolan got up shakily and said, “Musta got a hold of some bad beef. If you’ll excuse me, I better go lie down.” He left the saloon with a none too steady gait.
The other Chicago buyer, whose name was Solomon said, “Gawd, I hope he ain’t got something catching, with herds coming up the trail, I can’t be laid up with no sickness.”
“I tend to think he’s just gotten himself some bad food…. I wouldn’t worry none Mr. Solomon. I don’t think he’ll be startin’ no epidemic… I’m sure he’ll be up and goin’ real soon.” I assured him.
“Well, I feel bad for him anyway.” Solomon muttered, “Here he is lookin like death and finds out that he just lost some good steady business… Course I don’t know how he ever made any money on those deals since he always paid Slack top dollar…. Never could figure that out.”
Now Solomon may have been wearing a wise man’s name but he sure wasn’t any kind of close kin. It didn’t take a genius to see that Nolan was probably buying the stolen cattle without good bills of sales, paying probably fifty cents on the dollar and billing the company for the full amount.
“Well, Herr Vortz and Mr. Solomon,” I said, “I’d better be shakin’ a leg, I got plenty to do before that herd gets in here tomorrow.” I didn’t, but there was something I wanted to see about.
I walked out of the saloon and down the street to the supply store, where I waited. As I was rolling a smoke, I saw my friend Nolan come tearing out from between two buildings kicking the hell out of his horse heading down the road to Pueblo. “Yep, I guess I figured that one out.” I said to nobody.
I hadn’t unsaddled my horse yet, so I went back to the lodge for my rifle and climbed into the saddle for another visit with Marshal McCollum.
I walked into the marshal’s office, and he didn’t seem none too happy to see me. “You shoot somebody else?”
Holding out both hands, I said, “Hold on Marshal. I haven’t done anything yet, but I feel I ought to give you a little advance warning about possible trouble… or maybe some probable trouble.”
“Talk to me, son.”
So I gave him the story of the trail drive and my trouble with John Slack back in Los Vegas. I told him about the attempted herd cutting, the two attempted takeovers, and how we got the herd back. The last of it was how Sheriff Bagley was in it up to his eyeballs.
“Holy smokes, boy, you mean you and your boss and a handful of riders did that much damage… and put Ferd Bagley on the run? Lord have Mercy! Who is this rancher, anyway?”
I told him that his name was Ben Blue of the MB connected out of Taos. He gave me a bit of a queer look and went to ruffling papers on a spindle. He pulled off a telegraph paper and looked at it. “Yeah, here it is. I got this a couple of weeks ago… It’s from the US Marshal in Dodge, and he’s following up for Marshal Stewart in Santa Fe because Santa Fe ain’t got a telegraph yet…. He says that Ben Blue is a Special Deputy and to lend any assistance that I can… Don’t sound like he needs none.”
“Well, Marshal, what that doesn’t say is that he’ll be bringing in near to thirty five hundred cattle and at least ten or eleven prisoners. At least one of them is probably going to be hung… maybe more… some of them may just be turned loose if they haven’t caused any trouble, that’s up to Ben.”
The marshal sat for a few long seconds tapping his pipe on the desk. I could almost read his mind. He was thinking about how to handle that many prisoners. And then he said, “By God, Bell, them rustlers has caused you fellas enough trouble. I can lock up them that’s facing hangin, here in a cell, and we can put the rest of them chained up in the livery barn…. They won’t like it but that’s the way it is.”
I hated to do it, but I had to give him one more piece of news. “This morning I couldn’t think of a single person here abouts that wanted to shoot me, but after I left you, I saw John Slack slip into a doorway out on the street. He’s here in town, and I’d lay money on him being the one who put that yay hoo on me last night. There’s a cattle buyer that�
��s been hand in glove with him for a few years, and he’s with him now…. I just wanted to let you know that I’ll try to take the shooting out to the loading area, but I can’t promise anything.”
“I’ll go over to the sheriff’s office and let him know what’s goin on. That railroad town is his jurisdiction. But you just keep a sharp look out, young fella, and do what you got to do.”
Chapter 16
I rode on back to the lodge and put my horse up, then I took myself a nice long hot bath and stretched out on my bed to read the letter I’d gotten from Izzy. She was already in Denver and had taken up residence in the Silver Slipper. She said she was just waiting for me to show up, and in the meantime she was trying her hand at prospecting and had cleaned out a couple of nice pockets of gold. I figured that I’d better get this business here cleaned up and head on up to the city before she gets all the gold.
I must have dozed off thinking of Izzy’s gold or maybe I was thinking of Izzy because a slight rap on the door brought me out of the other world. In the second or two that it took to clear my head, I was sitting up in bed with my gun in hand. I stood beside the door and asked who it was.
“Iss Yacob… Wan to come to zupper wiss me?” I opened the door and asked him in while I put on my boots and strapped on my gunbelt. “You gong to zhoot zombodies?” he asked.
“Not unless the food’s bad… then I might.” I picked up my hat as we walked out the door.
Downstairs in the dining room, we placed our orders and made idle talk while we waited for our food. Jacob said that he had checked on Nolan to see how he was feeling and found that he had checked out of the lodge. “He muss be werry zick… I fear he vent bach to Chicago…” then with a smile he added, “I tink I can handle ze buzznezz he vill be mizzink.”
“That’s a shame.” I mused, “I sorta wanted to talk with him some more… Oh well.”
After dinner, we strolled down the boardwalk to the saloon we’d visited earlier in the day. My little German friend could certainly put away the beer. I thought he must have a hollow leg from the amount he was pouring in. Aside from having to make several trips to the necessary, he didn’t show any ill effects from the beverage. He told me later that the German beers are so much heavier and more potent that the beer found on the frontier usually doesn’t stack up. Aside from their weight and potency, I still couldn’t put that much liquid into my body, unless I had it delivered to the necessary.
We sat in on a poker game just to have something to do. After an hour, I was even and Jacob was down a couple of dollars. That’s the way those games go sometimes. Solomon came in and pulled Jacob away from the game for a confab. They put their heads together and talked for a good fifteen minutes of more.
Jacob came over and asked me to join them. I hated to do it because I was starting a mild streak. It seemed like Lady Luck had come in and was sitting on my lap. I was suddenly up four dollars and there was a pot of a dollar and a half out there for the taking. I sure hated to leave. I may never be sitting that pretty again.
The upshot of their conversation was that they suspected upon reflection that friend Nolan may have been in “cavootles”, as Jacob pronounced it, with Slack and Ralls. “You really think so?” I asked, and they both shook their heads like they were puppets on strings.
I asked them how they’d like to take a ride tomorrow and take a look at the herd as it was coming up the trail. They both thought that was a capital idea. Since it was the first herd up trail so far this spring, I got the idea that both of them were getting a little bored waiting.
We rode south around noon time. Jacob rode like a jumping bean; his butt was off the saddle just long enough to meet the saddle coming up and then it was in the air again. Solomon wasn’t much better as a rider. They’d both be sore tonight.
We met up with the herd about an hour down the trail. Ben was introduced to the two buyers and they were given their freedom to ride around the herd to get a good look at what was for sale. While they were left to their own devices, Ben and I went for a little pow wow of our own. I told him about spotting Slack and the attempted bushwhacking at the tent hotel; of course he had already heard all that from Tate. Then I told him about my meeting with the marshal and his arrangements for holding the prisoners.
“Marshal McCollum got a telegraph from the US Marshal in Dodge advising him that you’d be coming in and to lend any help he could. McCollum seems to be a pretty good man doing a pretty big job.” I told him.
I noted that Ralls wasn’t tied to Ben’s saddle anymore and asked about it. “No, I just about walked him to death… Yesterday, I had to drag him more than walk him. Didn’t figure it was bein fair to my horse, so I put him on contrary hammerhead roan today, and Cain’s riding herd on him and the rest. I think they’re more scared of that old blister than they ever was of me.”
It wasn’t much after our little talk that Wertz and Solomon came up and were ready to start talkin business. The bidding started at eleven dollars a head and soon went to fourteen. They struck a deal for sixteen dollars a head and my little German friend took the prize.
When we were at the point of turning the herd east to the railroad town, Ben called a halt. He told Jesus to follow Mr. Wertz’s directions and lead the herd where he wanted them and hold them till he got there. Next he went among the prisoners and started cutting their bonds until there were only three bound prisoners and Ralls left.
“Now,” he said to the freed men, “I’m lettin’ you fellas go. I’d rather you go to Montana or Canada or China, but don’t be crossin’ my trail ever again cause I won’t give another break to any of you… You take off to the north and keep going. Don’t even think about stopping this side of Wyomin Territory. Now git!” And they got. They were all aware of the fate that waited for Ralls and the three others who were still tied.
“You three have caused trouble ever since you accepted our hospitality, and you were all seen shooting at or into my men during the raid… so you’ll be damned lucky to escape the noose. And you, Ralls, can be assured of your fate, especially when they start looking into your doins for the last three or four years. When we get our hands on Slack, Bagley, and this here Nolan fella, they’ll get the same treatment.”
When he came to the Bagley riders, he rode among them and gave each man a five dollar coin including Curley. “You boys done your work for the time you been with us, so I’m payin you off and giving you the same advice I gave them other boys… Stay out of my sight.”
“Come on and take a ride into town with me,” Max. “We’ll deliver these boys to the marshal, and then maybe find time for a beer.
I’d been sitting pretty casual during our talk, so I stuck my right boot back into the stirrup and scooted into the seat. We lined them out two by two with me in the lead and Ben riding behind with his shotgun across his bows. We made quite a sight riding up the main street and getting down at the Marshal’s office. I got down and looped my reigns over the hitch rail, and then I covered the prisoners with my Winchester while they dismounted two at a time, and then Ben got down. We marched them up onto the boardwalk and into the office. We had attracted quite a crowd.
One fella was crowding in and stood right in front of me, asking, “Wha’d they do? Wha’d they do?”
“They blocked the boardwalk.” I said… he moved out of my way.
We marched them into the marshal’s office single file, and when the door closed behind Ben, I told them to stop right where they were… they did.
“Marshal McCollum,” Ben said extending his hand, “I’m Ben Blue out of Taos, New Mexico and a Deputy US Marshal when I have to be.”
“Marshal Blue…”
“Ben… I quit bein’ a marshal when I walked through your front door.” Ben corrected him.
“Ben it is then…most folks call me Mack. Whatever you’re called, I’m pleased to meet you… That marshal down in Santa Fe seems to think a great deal of you, and so does the law out of Dodge. Those recommendations are good enough f
or me… We didn’t know how many to expect so we made some alternate preparations. But it don’t look like we’ll need em.”
“I let a bunch of em go, with a warning never to let me see any part of ‘em again. These are the worst of the bunch. Ralls there is one of the bosses and right in the middle of a lot of stolen cattle and a lot of missing or dead drovers…. I’ll need to make out a warrant for John Slack and Sheriff Bagley over in Trinidad. And what’s that other fellas name, Max, the cattle buyer from Chicago?”
“Nolan. I don’t know the rest of it.” I told him. ”But I can find out from Wertz.”
“That’d be Dave Nolan,” The marshal said. “He’s been around here off and on since the last year or so.”
The marshal and Ben walked over to the court house to get a judge to sign off on the warrants, and I stayed with the deputy to make sure his guests were comfortable in their new accommodations. They weren’t, in fact that was one very uncomfortable bunch. That made me smile.
I didn’t understand all the legal parts of arresting people and getting them to trial, but Ben and McCollum seemed to be up on it, so I didn’t worry too much about it. I guess it was a matter of civilization moving across the country and catching up with what was wild and wooly just a little while ago. I believe that telegraphs and railroads have changed the way of life much more out here than they have back east.
Not too long ago, anything west of St. Louie was weeks away from anywhere, but now it was a matter of hours to get a message from New York to Pueblo. A lawman in Kentucky could send a wanted notice to Ft. Worth quicker than he could ride to the next town.
Yep, the times are changing, but the times have always been changing. Only a few hundred years ago, folks thought the earth was flat, and somewhere out in the middle of the ocean there was a drop off. Well, there still may be such a place, and I’m sure there’s some fool out there looking for it.