by Joe Corso
He told Percy they wouldn’t start a fire because he didn’t want an Indian to know there was anyone in the building. They’d make a fire somewhere on the road and have breakfast then.
The moment Charlie woke he checked the horses. He was relieved to find they were still there, which made him feel better.
“Come on, we better be going. We’re in Choctaw territory now and they don’t like whites. If we meet any I hope they recognize where the jewelry we’re wearing came from.”
“You think we’ll run into any, Charlie?”
“Maybe, maybe not. It’s hard to tell. For all we know they could be watching us right now.”
Percy slunk down in his saddle, trying to make himself a smaller target. They passed another abandoned stage station.
“The next one we come to we’ll stop and rest the horses, and hope the Indians don’t take them while we’re asleep.”
“Are the Indians really as quiet as you say they are?”
“They’re even quieter than that. Let’s just hope they don’t know we’re there, because they can sneak in on you while you’re sleeping and steal a horse out from under you. Even if you were still in the saddle you wouldn’t know they were doing it.”
Charlie heard the papers crinkle under the windows as someone stepped on them. Then he heard the empty whiskey bottle scurry along the floor as the front door opened. He reached for his guns, nudged Percy awake and slid quickly toward the door leading into the large room. The door was open and an Indian was leading a horse out. Charlie cocked his Colt, waited for a clean shot and took it just as the horse cleared the door. The shot hit the Indian in the shoulder and spun him around, sending him to the ground in the clearing in front of the neglected station. Charlie stepped cautiously, crouched down low to make the smallest target possible for any Indian covering his partner, and dived through the door. A shot rang out and slammed into the door jam just above where Charlie’s head had been a second before. Charlie dived off the porch in a roll and quickly scurried behind the water trough. He waited patiently and was rewarded by another shot hitting the right corner of the trough. This time he smiled because he had seen the rifle flash. It was pitch black outside but he had a good idea where the shot came from. He used the night to cover his flight as he ran across the clearing and dived into the thick scrubby pines, which even in daylight would have rendered him invisible.
Meanwhile Percy grabbed Sable’s reins and brought him back into the safety of the building. Charlie crab-walked his way toward where he had seen the flash from the gunshot, wondering if the shooter was the only one he had to worry about. One horse was gone and he knew he had to get him back. Charlie rose to his feet to make better time and tried to be quiet, hoping he was heading in the right direction to catch the Indian who had stolen his horse. He rushed and threw caution to the wind, knowing the Indian could disappear into the night. He ran uphill until he thought his lungs would burst, then the ground leveled and he emerged into a clearing, just as the Indian hopped nimbly onto his horse. Charlie drew and fired his gun in one quick move. He watched the horse bolt as the Indian fell off.
Chapter 13
Charlie found Percy’s horse deep in the scrubby sage brush about a quarter of a mile from the station. He looked for the Indian horses but found none. He guessed they had walked to the station, figuring on stealing the horses then riding them back to their village. Only they hadn’t figured on stepping on something as simple as some old crinkled newspapers, and unintentionally knocking over some discarded bottles when they opened the door.
“You were absolutely right, Charlie. I never heard them. Not at all. Those two bastards would have gotten away if you hadn’t taken the precautions you did.”
“I told you, they’re sneaking, stealing cusses that’s for sure—but I’ll give ’em this much. They’re real good at sneaking up on a man in the dark of the night and stealing everything he owns, without a man even being aware they’re doing it. The Indians are the best guerrilla fighters I’ve ever seen, better than most in the great war I fought in. They’re smart enough to run when they know they can’t win a fight. And if they run now they can fight you again later when the odds are in their favor. And when they leave their hunting grounds to follow the buffalo you would never know they’d been there. They leave the grounds how they found them. They treat the earth the way they would treat their mother, with respect.”
“It sounds like you really like the Indians, Charlie.”
“I do like them. If you make a friend of them, they’ll be the best friend you’ll ever have; and the same goes if they’re your enemy. They respect courage and they’ll gauge their greatness on the greatness of their enemies. And that’s the reason Black Elk made us part of the Shawnee Nation. Other tribes respect the fact that a white man who has proven his courage many times is now a Shawnee brave. It makes his tribe envied by the rest of the nations. That little gunplay demonstration I performed for them will be told and retold, and the more it’s told the more distorted it will become. They’ll sing songs about that day and it will make Black Elk even more envied among the other tribes. I always do things for a reason, Percy. I don’t show off my shooting skills just to impress people, unless something like New York comes up where money is involved and it suits my purposes. But otherwise, as Mr. Barnum says, ‘you never smarten up a chump.’”
They stopped in Sherman on the third day and spent the rest of the day getting supplies and resting their tired mounts. About an hour after sunrise on the seventh day they could see Horse Head Crossing, but instead of continuing toward it Charlie reined in his horse and indicated for Percy to do the same.
Percy leaned over and whispered, “Why are we stopping?”
“I heard something. Let’s get off the road and behind the sage brush, and head into the trees where we can’t be seen.”
They dismounted and led their horses deeper into the thick, scrubby pines. Then Charlie saw the cause of the noise he heard. A female wolf lay dead with an arrow in her and four newborn pups lying beside her. The first two pups were also dead, but the other two were still breathing.
“What do you think happened to her, Charlie?”
“My guess is she was looking for food. She might have tried stealing from an Indian who didn’t cotton to a wolf stealing food from him and let an arrow fly. This poor thing must have walked a long way with that arrow in her, trying to get to somewhere safe where she could tend to her pups. It looks as though she gave birth to these pups while she was dying.”
The two dead pups were a male and female, the two that still lived were both males. Charlie picked the pups up and handed one to Percy. “This one is yours until we get to civilization or until he’s big enough to take care of himself.”
Charlie made a makeshift sling from his bandana and hung it beside his saddlebag. “You should do the same, Percy. If one of the pups was a female it would have been a little harder on us.”
“Why’s that, Charlie.”
“Come on, Percy, you’re a doctor and you should know better than to ask me that. If your pup was a female and you took her back to Pennsylvania and that time of month came around, it would present a problem to you. Out here it won’t matter much. But if you took her home with you and she was full grown and in heat, you’d have all the males in Pennsylvania sitting at your doorstep waiting to have a poke with her. Wolves are funny creatures. If we raised these two they would become our friends and they’d be good company on the trail, until they heard the call of other wolves in the wild. The lure of those calls would be so great that they’d be gone. But until that time they’d be loyal friends and good company. Well, we better be on our way because we have to get to that town and see if we can find some milk for these babies.”
“Well, would you look at that.”
“What?” Percy queried.
“The store coming up on our left. Look at the sign. Talk about luck.”
They tied their horses to the hitching post in front of Joh
n Kupper’s Watchmaker and Jewelry Store.
“Percy, I’m gonna go in to Kupper’s to try to sell him my diamonds. Why don’t you go next door to the hardware store and see if you can buy us something we could feed the pups milk with.”
“Good idea. I’ll meet you out here by the horses.”
Charlie entered the store and found a small man wearing spectacles, behind a wooden, makeshift counter. “What can I do for you, young fella?”
“Are you John Kupper?”
“Yes, that would be me.”
“Mr. Kupper, I thought you might be interested in one or two of these. Do you have a cloth I could put these on.”
Kupper wondered what the young man could possibly have in the little leather pouch, but he obligingly reached under the counter and spread a black cloth on the counter. “Let’s see what you have to show me.”
Charlie opened the small leather pouch and emptied it onto the cloth. Mr. Kupper gasped. With the jeweler’s loop hanging around his neck he studied a diamond, looking for flaws, but found none. “Where did you get these diamonds?”
“Well, I have quite a few back at my brother’s place in Virginia City but I left with ten of them and now have only these nine diamonds with me. I don’t want to sell all of them, only one or two.”
“Did you lose the tenth diamond?”
Charlie shook his head. “No, I gave that one to Sarah Bernhardt an actress friend of mine.”
Kupper was both impressed and confused. The man who claimed to know Sarah Bernhardt looked like a saddle tramp, but there was something different about him. He put those thoughts aside for the moment. At this moment he wanted to buy those diamonds. Kupper had enough gold and silver and precious stones, such as turquoise, jade and that red stone the Indians used in their jewelry, known as coral, but he didn’t have any diamonds.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you selling your diamonds?”
“I was waylaid back on the trail and all my money was stolen, along with my guns, and they left me for dead. I’m selling one or two of my diamonds to pay for supplies, room and board and drinks.”
“How much did they take from you, son?”
Charlie looked at Kupper with the ghost of a smile on his face. “They stole over three thousand dollars from me.”
Kupper was speechless. “Lord, but that’s a lot of money to lose.”
“I’ll get it back when I catch those three bushwhackers. Don’t you worry none about that.”
“Three men robbed you, you say?”
Charlie put his elbow on the counter and leaned closer. “Yeah, three men. Their names were Clem, Luke and Jeb. Why? Do you know them?”
“Three men rode in about a month ago but only one of them is here now.”
“Do you know where he’s staying?”
“There’s only one place in town that a drifter can stay and that’s Sunset House. You can’t miss it. Just continue down the street and you’ll see it on your right. But he won’t be there. He usually hangs around the Canary Cage.”
“Canary Cage? What’s that, a saloon?”
“It’s both a saloon and a gambling house. He got lucky with the cards so he didn’t want to leave while his luck was holding. His two friends left without him. He told them he’d catch up to them when the cards cooled down.
“Now, let’s talk business, stranger. I’d like to buy those diamonds from you. Let me measure them to determine a fair price.”
Kupper wanted to buy all the diamonds, but Charlie only wanted to sell one or two. Charlie finally settled on selling Kupper five diamonds. With cash in his pocket Charlie asked Kupper where he could get a good meal.
“Right across the street from the Canary Cage is the City Bakery and they serve good home-cooked meals there. Say, before you leave, you never told me your name.”
“The name is Charles Longstreet.”
When the door closed behind Charlie, John Kupper tried to remember why the name sounded familiar, but it eluded him. He bent down and put the diamonds in his safe. As he was getting up his eyes lit on the little book hidden under the counter that he had finished reading two nights ago. Then he remembered where he had heard the name. Could it be him, here in Wild Horse Crossing? He wore his guns the way Buntline described them in the book, and he was after some men who bushwhacked him. Maybe it was the Lone Jack Kid who had walked into his store. Kupper raced around the counter and put up the “CLOSED” sign on the door. He had to tell somebody! He’d start with his wife and work his way up to all his friends.
Chapter 14
Did you find something to feed the pups with, Percy?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact I did.” He took out a pointy item from a bag and showed it to Charlie.
“What the hell is that?”
“It’s called a glass dropper. A scientist by the name of Louis Pasteur used them by the dozens and they became popular. I bought a dozen of them.”
“There’s a place down the street called City Bakery. I’m told we can get a good meal there and we could get some milk to feed the pups. I’m worried about them. They haven’t eaten a thing and they must be real weak by now. Feeding these guys has to be the first thing we do.”
They sat down at a table and ordered their meals. Charlie asked the woman serving them for some milk for his pups. Seeing how tiny and weak they were she rushed to bring them a cup of milk. The men took the droppers, drew up some milk, then squeezed it gently into the pups’ mouths. The pups drank greedily, so they kept feeding the little guys even when their dinners were getting cold.
When they had had enough, Charlie laid his pup in a napkin on the table. He kept looking at it as he was eating. He was smiling when he finished his meal.
“Percy, could you watch these two guys while I go and check to see if my man is in the Canary Cage Saloon?”
“Oh no you don’t. I’m not staying here while you go next door.” Percy waved his hand to get the waitress’s attention. “Could you watch these pups for us while we tend to some business next door?”
“Sure. I’ll put them in a basket and keep them behind the counter.”
Charlie left City Bakery and walked to the Canary Cage Saloon. He tried looking through the window but the glass was too dirty. He walked cautiously up the few steps to the batwing doors and, without opening them, looked over them and into the room. He studied the men standing at the bar or sitting at tables. Charlie smiled inwardly and walked through the swinging doors to the bar.
“Do you have a cold beer?” he asked the bartender.
The bartender, a fat, greasy man with black, greasy hair and a greasy, dark, five o’clock shadow replied, “We have beer.”
“Cold beer?”
“Look, mister, if you want a cold beer then go up north where it’s cold and get one. I told you, we serve beer here. Now do you want one? Yes or no?”
Charlie slapped a silver dollar on the bar and said jokingly. “Why didn’t you say you had beer? Of course I’ll have one.”
He turned his back to the bar and watched Jeb sitting at a card table with his back to him, playing cards with four men. Charlie walked up to the table and stood behind Jeb.
“You men ought to get up and stand clear of this table because I have business with Jeb here.”
The men stood, some with their hands near the handles of their six guns.
“I wouldn’t do anything foolish, because you’d be dead before you cleared leather.”
The men looked at each other and remembered the news that Johnny Kupper the jeweler had told them.
“Excuse me, stranger, but would you be the Lone Jack Kid?”
“That would be me, mister. Now stand aside while I deal with this low-down, cowardly, bushwhacking son of a bitch. Get on your feet, Jeb. We have unfinished business, you and I.”
Jeb stood and turned to face Charlie. “Who are you and why are you dogging me?”
“I’m the guy you bushwhacked that night on the Butterfield stage road. You shot me a
nd left me for dead, but not before you stole over three thousand dollars and my guns. You thought you killed me, but here I am. Now stand back, and whenever you’re ready go for your gun. Everyone in this room is my witness that this will be a fair fight and they’ll testify that I didn’t jerk my gun first. I’m waiting, Jeb.”
“Wait, you can’t do this.”
“Sure I can. Don’t you remember kicking me before you left? You thought I was dead and wouldn’t feel anything, but you were wrong. You shot through my hand, and when you saw the blood splatter all over my face you thought you shot me in the head.”
Jeb was shaking now. “It wasn’t me that shot you. It was Clem. He was the one that shot you.”
“How much money do you have left, Jeb?”
Jeb didn’t want to part with his money but he didn’t want to be killed either. “I have some money left.”
One of the men he’d been sitting with at the table spoke up. “He’s lying. He’s been winning money from us since he got here.”
“Put all your money on the table, Jeb.”
Jeb hesitated, but Charlie prodded him with his gun. “You.” Charlie pointed to the man who had spoken up. “Why don’t you go through his pockets and pull his cash out and put it on the table.” Jeb winced, knowing he’d just lost all of his money. “How much is on the table, including tonight’s winnings?”
“There’s thirty-three hundred dollars on the table.”
“How much did you fella’s lose to Jeb here?”
“I lost two hundred and fifty dollars to him, Tom lost three hundred, and Frank there lost three hundred twenty-five dollars.”