Slocum and the Bad-News Brothers

by Jake Logan

  “Sit down, Lige,” said Tipton. Then he turned to Slocum. “Do you mind?”

  “No.”

  “Mr. Slocum, this is Lige Phillips. He’s my foreman.”

  “Glad to meet you,” Lige said, shaking Slocum’s hand across the table. “That was sure quick thinking, Mr. Slocum.”

  “Let me get one thing straight here,” Slocum said. “I ain’t no mister. Just Slocum will do.”

  “It was quick thinking,” said Tipton, “and a damn good aim, too.”

  Goosey brought a bottle and some more glasses, and Tipton poured drinks all around. Slocum raised his glass. “Thanks,” he said.

  “It’s the least I could do,” said Tipton.

  They all sipped at their whiskey. Then Randy said, “Mr. Tipton?”

  “Yes?”

  “Earlier this evening, before you come in, I told Slocum here that I’d ask if you had any jobs open.”

  “Are you looking for work, Slocum?” Tipton asked.

  “I am kind of footloose just now,” Slocum said.

  “I can tell by your look that you’re a cow man,” said Tipton. “If you want work, you’ve got a place with me.”

  “Thank you,” said Slocum. “I’d like to look the place over first.”

  “That’s a good answer,” said Tipton. “What do you say to riding out with us tonight? You can stay the night as my guest and look things over in the morning.”

  “All right.”

  They had another round of drinks and decided to leave. Slocum corked the bottle and handed it to Tipton. “It’s yours,” said Tipton. Slocum took the bottle as they left the Hogneck. Tipton, Phillips, and Randy headed for their horses at the hitch rail, and Tipton looked at Slocum. “You have a horse?” he asked.

  “He’s in the stable,” Slocum said. “I’ll fetch him and meet you back here.”

  The other three men climbed into their saddles. Lige Phillips watched Slocum walk toward the stable. “Mr. Tipton,” he said, “I don’t like to interfere.”

  “What is it, Lige?”

  “That Slocum, he done you a good turn. That’s for sure.”

  “But?”

  “He sure has the look of a gunfighter to me.”

  2

  The four men passed around what was left of the bottle of bourbon on their ride out to the Tipton spread, so by the time they arrived, they were pretty well soused. They stopped in front of the porch of Tipton’s big house. Lige Phillips said, “Mr. Tipton, me and Randy here’ll take care of your horse, and we’ll get ole Slocum here bedded down, too.”

  “Take his horse and mine,” Tipton said. “Slocum’s my guest tonight. We’ll get him settled in tomorrow if he’s a mind to stay on.”

  “Yes sir,” said Phillips. Even in his semi-stupor, Slocum thought that he detected a look of—what? Jealousy? Suspicion?

  “Good night,” said Randy Self.

  Tipton swung down out of his saddle and staggered a bit as Phillips grabbed the reins. Slocum dismounted, too, and handed his reins to Self. “Thanks, Randy,” he said. Tipton started up the steps to the porch. He stumbled once and grabbed the rail to right himself.

  “Come on, Slocum,” he said.

  Slocum followed the ranch owner up to the front door where Tipton fumbled with the handle a bit before he managed to get the door opened. Then he swung it wide, staggered back a couple of steps. At last he walked through the door and Slocum followed. Inside he turned and shut the door.

  “Carl, is that you?” came a female voice.

  “It’s me,” Tipton called out. “I’ve got company. Don’t bother getting up. I’ll take care of everything.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. Go back to sleep.”

  Tipton weaved his way over to a liquor cabinet and grabbed a bottle by the neck. He picked up a couple of glasses and made his way over to a small table that stood in front of a couple of stuffed chairs. Putting the glasses down on the table, he poured them full of whiskey and gestured toward Slocum. “Thanks,” said Slocum, reaching for one of the glasses. Tipton put the bottle down heavily and dropped onto one of the chairs. He pointed at the other chair, and Slocum sat down.

  “I ain’t ready to call it a day,” he said. “How about you?”

  “I’m just going along with you, Mr. Tipton,” Slocum said. “This hits the spot all right.”

  “Call me Carl,” Tipton said. “Hell, Slocum, you saved my life tonight. I don’t take that lightly.”

  Slocum shrugged, but before he could say anything, Tipton started in again. “You done it slick as hell, too,” he said. “I don’t believe I ever saw anything like it.”

  “That ole boy’s likely to come after you again when he sobers up and gets out of jail,” Slocum said.

  “Hell, he’s liable to come after you, too, after what you done to him.”

  “I don’t think he even saw me,” said Slocum.

  “Maybe not, but someone’ll tell him who done it. If you don’t want trouble with him, maybe you’d ought to light on out of here first thing in the morning.”

  “I can handle myself,” Slocum said. “Besides, I don’t think he’ll be out of jail that quick.”

  “Yeah,” said Tipton, looking sideways at Slocum. “I imagine you can handle yourself all right. Lige said you got the look of a gunfighter.”

  Slocum looked at Tipton and started to open his mouth.

  “That’s all right,” Tipton said. “I don’t mind.”

  “I can punch cows, too,” Slocum said.

  “Yeah. I can tell that. I said that earlier, didn’t I?”

  “Yes sir. You did.”

  “Slocum, I’ve got an extra bedroom here in the house. It’s a back room, and it’s got its own door for coming and going. I want you to work for me, but I don’t want another cowboy. I want a bodyguard. I want you to go where I go. Stick close. That Beamer, the man you conked tonight, he’ll be back after me. And even if he don’t get me, he’s got five brothers and four cousins or something like that on a ranch near here. They all stick together. I don’t fancy sitting still here on the ranch. I’ll pay you ten dollars more a month than I pay for cowboy wages. You’ll take your meals here in the house with us. What do you say?”

  “I don’t know,” Slocum said. “I was thinking about a puncher’s job. I wasn’t looking to hire on as a gunfighter.”

  “You can think on it overnight if you’ve a mind to.”

  “What have these Beamers got against you?”

  “It goes back a ways,” Tipton said. “I took some money away from one of them in a poker game at the Hogneck one time. He accused me of cheating, but he didn’t do nothing about it. Didn’t have the guts while I was looking at him. A while later I caught one of his brothers fixing to use a running iron on one of my cows. I roped him and dragged him a ways into the stream and left him there. Run his horse off. It was a kind of cold day, and he had a long walk. I guess he took it kind of personal.”

  “Seems kind of small-minded,” Slocum said. He tipped his glass back and finished his drink. Tipton refilled it. “But I reckon there are folks who think like that.”

  “Well, what do you say?”

  “Let me give you an answer in the morning when I’m sober,” Slocum said. “Hell, I might agree to fight a damned grizzly bear tonight.”

  “That’s fair enough.”

  “Hell, when you sober up, you might not want me around anyhow.”

  Tipton laughed. He tried to stand up, but he didn’t quite make it. Slocum stood up and gave him a hand. Tipton came to his feet with a lurch, nearly falling over forward. Both men laughed at that. Then Tipton managed to show Slocum the extra room and get himself to bed.

  Slocum woke up a little later than his usual time, but it still was not too late. He got up and dressed. There was a washbasin and a pitcher of water on a table by the wall, and he made use of those. Then he went out the back door to find the outhouse. In a short while, he walked around the house to the front porch, found
a chair, and sat down. He took out a cigar and lit it with a match. He was puffing contentedly when the door opened and Tipton stepped out.

  “There you are,” he said.

  “I made use of the back door,” Slocum said. “I didn’t want to startle the lady of the house.”

  “Well, stay right there,” Tipton said. “I’ll bring us out some coffee.”

  He went back inside, and Slocum continued to smoke. Tipton was back in a jiffy with two cups of coffee. He gave one to Slocum and pulled himself up a chair.

  “How’s your head this morning?” he said.

  “I’m doing fine,” Slocum said. “It was good whiskey.”

  “You sound like a man who knows how to drink.”

  “Well, I’ve done it aplenty.”

  “Breakfast is fixing,” Tipton said. “It ought to be about ready by the time you finish that cigar.”

  “Sounds good,” Slocum said. “I’m kind of tired of my own cooking.”

  Lige Phillips came riding up to the porch just then. He touched the brim of his hat and nodded at Slocum. “Mr. Tipton,” he said, “I’m sending a half dozen boys up to the north pasture to look for strays and three boys down south to mend that fence. You want me to take Slocum and get him set up?”

  “Me and Slocum are still dickering, Lige. Go ahead and do what you said. That sounds good to me.”

  “Okay,” Lige said. “Slocum,” he said, nodding his head as he turned his horse to ride on.

  “Lige is a good man,” Tipton said.

  “He seems to feel a little cautious toward me,” said Slocum. “That’s probably good.”

  “He’s protective all right,” Tipton said. “Of me personally and of my cattle and my money.”

  “Then what do you need me for?”

  “Lige is protective all right,” Tipton said, “but he’s no gunfighter. Even if he was, he’s busy running this ranch for me. I can’t go calling on him every time I want to ride into town or go visit a neighbor ranch or something like that.”

  Slocum nodded. He took a final puff on his cigar and tossed the stub away. Tipton stood up. “Let’s go in,” he said. They took their cups and went into the house where Slocum was astonished to see two women setting the table. One he took to be Tipton’s wife. She was a good-looking woman. He guessed her to be in her fifties, a little younger than her husband, and she was well taken care of. She looked around and smiled as the two men walked in. The other was younger. She could have been anywhere from twenty-five to thirty. And she was a knockout. She was dressed in jeans and a shirt, and they showed off her figure to perfection. Her hair was long and light brown, almost blonde. She headed back into the kitchen when the men walked in, and Slocum couldn’t help but watch the sway of her hips as she moved.

  “Myrtle,” said Tipton to the older woman, “I want you to meet Slocum. Slocum, this here is my wife, Myrtle.”

  Slocum took off his hat. “It’s a pleasure, ma’am,” he said.

  Just then the younger woman came back into the room carrying a bowl which she placed on the table. “And this is Jamie,” Tipton said. “Our daughter. Jamie, say hello to Slocum.”

  “Just Slocum?” said Jamie.

  “My first name’s John,” said Slocum, “but I hardly ever use it.”

  “All right then, Slocum,” said Jamie. “Pleased to meet you. Have a seat.” She gestured toward a chair, and Slocum pulled it out from the table and sat down. Tipton sat in his chair. Myrtle brought the coffeepot and refilled the cups, and in another moment the ladies were also seated. On the table was a platter of fried eggs, a platter of slices of ham, a bowl of potatoes, a bowl of gravy, a bowl of beans, and a bowl of biscuits. Tipton helped himself and passed the dishes on to Slocum.

  “So what brings you to these parts, Slocum?” Jamie asked.

  “I was just passing through,” Slocum said. “I met your father last night.”

  “In the Hogneck,” said Tipton. “Me and Lige had just bellied up to the bar, when that damn Brace Beamer drew down on me from behind. He threatened to kill me, and Slocum swung a bottle and beaned him on the noggin. Knocked him clean out. It was the damndest shot I’ve ever seen.”

  “It sounds like we all owe you thanks,” Myrtle said.

  “This meal is thanks enough,” Slocum said. “It’s as good as I’ve ever had.”

  “Thank you,” said Myrtle.

  “Glad you like it,” Jamie said. “Eat all you want.”

  “I’ve offered Slocum a job,” said Tipton. “Bodyguard ing me. He’s thinking on it.”

  “What will you do, Slocum?” Jamie asked. “Carry bottles around with you to throw at anyone who threatens Daddy?”

  Slocum grinned. “That might not be a bad idea,” he said. “It did work last night.”

  “He’s wearing a Colt that I bet you he can handle just fine,” said Tipton, a little aggravation in his voice.

  “I’m sure he can,” said Myrtle.

  When they were all done with their meal, Myrtle refilled the coffee cups for Slocum and Tipton, and she and Jamie started clearing the table. “Let’s go back out on the porch,” Tipton said. He took his cup and headed for the front door. Slocum followed. Soon they were seated again out on the porch. “Have you thought over my offer yet?” Tipton asked.

  “Is there anything you ain’t told me about?” Slocum asked.

  “Like what?”

  “Anything. Rustlers. A range war. Anything.”

  “Nothing. Not a damn thing. Just them goddamned Beamer bastards. Brace was ready to shoot me in the back last night. I been expecting something like that, but that was the first time. I figure after what happened last night in the Hogneck, they’ll all be after me now. No. I ain’t got no other trouble. Nothing I know about anyways. I always tried to get along with my neighbors. And I’ve always done a good job of it. Till the Beamers.”

  “So just what do I do? Act like your shadow?”

  “When I’m around the house here, you can do whatever you want. I just want you to be ready to ride out with me whenever I go anywhere off the ranch. None of them Beamers got the guts to come onto the ranch.”

  “So if you’re not going anywhere, all I do is lay around here on my ass and draw top wages?”

  “That’s about it.”

  “It don’t seem hardly fair,” said Slocum. “It’s liable to make for some hard feelings among the cowhands. Especially that Lige.”

  “You let me worry about my crew,” Tipton said. “Ole Lige will go along with anything I tell him to, whether he likes it or not.”

  “I’d feel better about it,” Slocum said, “if on the days when you don’t need me to ride out with you, you’d let me work along with the rest of the boys.”

  “That’s up to you. I said you can do whatever the hell you want to do when I’m just hanging around here. If you want to work, hell, go on ahead and work. Well, what do you say?”

  Slocum looked out and around. The ranch looked good. He got along fine so far with old Tipton and with Myrtle. Jamie was something else. He thought that he’d like a chance to get along better with her, but then, that might be the way to get into some real trouble. He knew Randy and Lige, and they were both all right. Randy was a good kid. Lige was suspicious of Slocum, and he could be a problem. He might easily get jealous of Slocum’s position of privilege. But then, Tipton had said that he would handle that. There was no telling about the others. He would just have to find out.

  “Well, Carl,” he said, “let’s give it a try.”

  Tipton stood up with a wide grin across his face and reached out his right hand to pump Slocum’s. “All right,” he said. “Good. You’re on the payroll starting right now. Good.”

  “Can I meet the rest of the hands?”

  “We can get started,” Tipton said. “Some of them’s already out working. But we’ll get started.”

  He moved to the front door and jerked it open. “Myrtle,” he called out. “Jamie. Slocum’s staying with us.” He turned away from
the door and started down the stairs. “Come on, Slocum. Let’s walk out to the corral.”

  It wasn’t a long walk, and they found Lige there with two more cowhands. They looked up when they saw their boss coming.

  “Lige,” Tipton said, “Slocum’s on the payroll. Boys, meet Slocum. These are Ace and Trotter.”

  Slocum shook hands with the two cowhands. They had apparently gotten their instructions from Lige, and so they excused themselves and went to catch a couple of horses. When Lige was alone, Tipton told him about the job he had given Slocum. Lige did not look happy about it.

  “Lige,” said Slocum, “I’d like to pull my weight around here. I can do ranch work. If Carl ain’t needing me, I’d like to work like any other cowhand.”

  Lige looked at Slocum suspiciously. Then he looked at Tipton.

  “You need him today?” he asked.

  “I’ll just be hanging around the house today,” Tipton said. “He’s free to do whatever he wants to do.”

  “All right, Slocum,” Lige said. “I’ll put your ass to work.”

  3

  Slocum wasn’t at all prepared for what happened next. Lige rode out with him to show him a section of fence that needed to be repaired and left him to do the work. Slocum didn’t grumble. He set right to it. But when Lige had ridden away, he’d said out loud, “Son of a bitch.” He had thought that he might be out riding herd somewhere, but he should have known that the dirty bastard would put him to the worst jobs he could find. He knew that Lige did not like him. The foreman would much rather Old Man Tipton had not hired him on in the first place. He had Slocum pegged as a gunfighter, and so he had no use for him. He would like to see Slocum just ride on.

  But Slocum thought, I brought it on myself. I said I could work, and I wanted to work rather than lay around the house. So he worked. He worked hard till noon when Lige came riding back up and said it was time to go back for chow. Slocum mounted up and rode along with Lige back to the main house. He started to go along with him to the cookshack, but Lige scowled and said, “The boss says that you’re taking your meals in the big house.” Slocum dismounted there in front of the main ranch house and went on inside. Tipton met him at the door.