John told her the entire story about the Keegans, Indian Bob, and the stolen whiskey. Neither of them finished their second drink, but they held hands, walked to the bed, undressed each other, and then got into bed to make up as lovers have done since the beginning of time.
For the next three days Lola cooked for him, changed his bandages, and made love whenever one or both of them wanted to. This routine lasted for three days; they did not leave the room and even declined maid service when it was offered.
On the fourth day John was feeling much better. He drove Lola to the depot so she could take the train to San Antonio and the stage coach to Austin.
After they kissed good-bye John asked, “Need any money for the train ticket?”
She hit him hard on his unwounded arm; it hurt. Then they both laughed and kissed again.
Then she boarded the train, took a seat by a window, and waved until John disappeared from view.
Then John decided to go to see Mike Ward at the police station. As if they were expecting him, Moriarity and Ward were together talking as John walked in.
Moriarity spoke first, “John, we both have news for you.”
“Good or bad?” John asked.
“I guess some of both,” Mike added.
Moriarity volunteered, “I have some good news for you. We tracked Samuels down through the sales of the bearer bonds. The last ones were cashed in Monterrey, Mexico, so if you want to look for him that would be a good place to start. Also I sold your house and office building for a good price. The funds have been deposited in the State Bank of Houston.
“I also used some of the funds to set up a trust fund for Sarah, so her future care is provided for. I told Sister Ruth about it, and she asked about you.”
“Thank you, sir. I knew I could trust you,” John told him.
Then Mike reported, “This is probably good and bad news. Indian Bob is in jail in El Paso.”
“What happened?” John excitedly asked.
“Well, it seems he passed out on the stage coach due to loss of blood from a nasty stomach wound. Some good Samaritans took him to the hospital there, but when he came to, he tried to kill them. The sheriff arrested him and threw him in jail. Then he recognized him from a wanted poster and sent me a telegram saying he would hold him for me. I’m making arrangements now to send some men out there to bring him back,” Mike told him.
“Better send some good men. He is one mean bastard and would do anything to escape,” John warned him.
“Don’t worry, I’ll send two of my best cops and they will bring him back,” Mike assured him.
“I sure hope they do, but I will worry about them until he is safely in prison,” John told Mike.
Moriarity then announced, “I will be leaving tomorrow. Got to get back to the mundane existence of a college professor.”
John asked him, “What about your bill? I owe you quite a bit of money, not to mention a great deal of thanks.”
“Just wait until you catch Samuels and we’ll find out how much money he has left, then I’ll mail you a bill,” Moriarity told him.
“Thank you sir, and please give my best to Lola Bigelow when you see her,” John said.
“I will do that,” the professor answered.
The next morning John left early for the ranch. He hoped to get Juan to go with him to Monterrey to find Samuels. At the ranch he was greeted warmly by Lisa and Maria, then Juan. They were all glad to see him healthy again.
Then John asked Juan, “Would you be able to go to Monterrey with me for a few weeks?”
“Si, Senor, I can teach Lisa and Maria to make the payroll, and the rest of the ranch can run itself for a few weeks, but what is going on?” Juan answered.
“Well, a paper trail of Daddy’s money tracked Samuels to Monterrey, and I want to go there and either arrest him or kill him,” John explained.
“OK, I’ll go. But I won’t help you kill anyone,” Juan commented. I have family in Monterrey, and I would like to see them while I’m there.”
Then Lisa offered a suggestion, “Why don’t you two ride the new train from Corpus Christi to Laredo?”
“What train?” Juan and John asked, almost in unison.
“Maria and I heard about it at the market. It is a new train that runs from Corpus Christi to Laredo, then on to Monterrey,” Lisa explained.
“That sounds like a good idea, and we can borrow some horses from my cousin if we need to,” Juan said.
The next morning Maria drove Juan and John to Corpus Christi after packing a big basket of sandwiches for them to eat on the train.
After they got on board they learned the train was a joint venture between the Kansas City Southern Railroad and the Mexican Railroad. When they left Corpus Christi the crew would be a Kansas City Southern crew, but at Laredo a Mexican Railroad crew would take over and take the train on to Monterrey.
Although it had been a long day on the train, at least they saved themselves two or three days in the saddle. They also discussed that if they were able to apprehend Samuels, the train would be an easy way to get him back to Texas to stand trial.
It was almost dark when they arrived at the station in Monterrey.
At the station they noticed a large police presence. Three armed policemen patrolled in and around the station.
Juan explained they were there to guard unsuspecting travelers. Some women had been the victims of local pachukas robbing them. Male travelers were often solicited by the local putas plying their trade.
It was too late to visit John’s cousins that night, so after eating supper at a small diner they checked into a boarding house called Casa de Flores close to the station. They were both tired from the trip and were soon sound asleep in a not-too-comfortable bed. They were too tired to care. It had been a long day.
The next morning after coffee at the boarding house, Juan inquired after a livery stable but Senora Flores volunteered to take them to Juan’s cousin’s house. As they rode to the address given to Senora Flores, John spent his time looking at his surroundings. He had been told about and had read about Mexico’s caste system, but now he was observing it firsthand.
He saw a small stream flowing through a large settlement of shacks and huts. All had dirt floors. The upstream part of the river was used by the women and children to dip water and carry it back to the small huts. The middle sections of the stream were used by women washing clothes by beating them on rocks. The lower part of the stream was used as a sewer, judging from the stench.
At least they know that much about sanitation, John thought to himself.
As they left the downtown area and climbed a hill John couldn’t help but notice the huge contrast in houses. At the top of the hill they were suddenly in a neighborhood of very large houses surrounded by stone, adobe, and brick walls. Atop the walls were barbed wire and broken glass.
Juan directed Senora Flores to a large gate with a sign that said “ORTIZ” in the center. Juan thanked Senora Flores, gave her $5.00, and then pulled the rope on a large bell atop the gate.
The bell was answered by another Mexican man and Juan told him, in Spanish, his name and that he was looking for his cousin Tomas and his wife, Rosita.
They were allowed to enter and walked past several out buildings on the way to the main brick house. Juan explained to John one of the buildings was a stable, one a servant’s quarters, and one a guest house.
They were led into the main house and were greeted warmly by Tomas and Rosita. Both of Juan’s relatives were approaching middle age. Tomas had salt and pepper hair, dark skin, and blue eyes. He stood barely more than five feet tall and had the build of an athlete.
Rosita was a beautiful woman with skin lighter than her husband, and was at least six inches taller. Her hair was brown, and she had large blue eyes. She still maintained a beautiful shape. Her large breasts were still
the focal point for most men’s glances.
They were served a wonderfully-tasting lunch of tamales and rice and beans with tortillas. Juan and John ate with gusto, as this was their first meal of the day. That afternoon the four of them sat in the parlor exchanging pleasantries and explaining the purpose of their visit.
John had been wondering how the Ortiz couple had achieved their wealth. Not being able to stand it any longer he finally said, “Please excuse me for asking a rude question, but did you two inherit all of this?”
Rosita and Tomas both laughed loudly in unison, “Not hardly!”
“We both came from very poor families,” Tomas continued. “My parents raised me on a small goat farm about ten miles from here. Rosita was raised on a small farm nearby and she and all of her brothers and sisters worked in the fields.”
Then Rosita added, “We would probably still be doing that if God had not shed His grace on us and showed us a path out of poverty.”
Then Tomas took over the story: “Rosita and I were childhood friends, and I think we loved each other when we were seven or eight years old.”
Rosita smiled and gently stroked Tomas’ face.
“Anyway, Rosita learned to make salsa when she was a teenager,” Tomas continued.
“It was my grandmother’s recipe,” Rosita interrupted.
Then Tomas resumed the story, “She would make large batches in a kettle over an open fire. People would come for miles around to buy small jars of it for five centavos, and some days she would sell out the entire batch. After this went on for months, I convinced her she should make larger batches and I would take jars into town and sell them. Soon Rosita’s Salsa became the talk of the entire town. That is when I borrowed money from my parents, added it to money Rosita had saved, and we moved here and set up a small factory. To make a long story short, the business grew and expanded. Our salsa business thrived, and within five years we sold the business to a company from San Antonio for more money than we knew existed.”
“Wow, that is some success story,” Juan commented.
“Well, it’s all true,” Tomas assured him.
“But now, enough of our story; tell us about yourself,” Rosita said.
So John related the story of his parent’s murder, his sister’s rape, and the theft of his property by his father’s ex-partner.
“Now I am here trying to track down bonds at a bank here. And I thought I might find him here,” John told them.
“What bank did he use?” Tomas asked.
John took a piece of paper from his shirt pocket, unfolded it and handed it to Tomas. It read:
Banco de Mexico, De Monterrey
Tomas excitedly said, “That’s the bank I use. I know all of the people there, and if you want me to I’ll go there with you tomorrow.”
After a breakfast of huevos rancheros and tortillas, Tomas drove John and Juan to the bank. As they parked the buggy in front Tomas told them, “If you don’t mind I’ll go in alone. I know most of the people, and they will talk more freely if I am alone.”
Tomas returned in just a few minutes.
Chapter 6
The Search for Samuels Begins
Tomas emerged triumphantly from the bank announcing, “I think we’ve got the bastard. They don’t know anyone named Samuels, but a man calling himself Romeo Jacobs cashed $10,000 worth of bearer bonds two weeks ago. Here is his address.”
And he handed a piece of paper which read “Romeo Jacobs, 1313 Buena Vista, Monterrey.”
“Do you know where that is?” John asked.
“Si senor, and I’ll take you there now, if you like,” Tomas replied.
“Then let’s go get the son of a bitch,” John said loudly.
Tomas drove past the address, then parked a half block away. He suggested, “Let me go up and knock on the door, and if he’s there I’ll signal you and you can come and get him.”
“Sounds good,” Juan said, the excitement showing in his voice.
To everyone’s surprise the door was answered by a young Mexican girl of 16 or 17. She spoke very broken English but agreed to bring Romeo to the door. Tomas signaled, and John and Juan walked slowly toward the house, not wanting to draw attention to themselves.
Seeing them coming, Samuels attempted to retreat into the house but Tomas grabbed him in a choke hold and held him until John and Juan arrived. The Mexican girl screamed and ran into the house.
They forced Samuels into the house where John held him at gunpoint as he searched him. He found and removed a Remington derringer from his vest pocket and Colt pocket pistol from a shoulder holster.
Samuels was visibly shaken but asked, “Why are you robbing me?”
“Robbing you? You better hope I don’t kill you right where you stand, you thieving bastard,” John told him.
Still belligerent Samuels said, “I’m going to have you arrested.”
“Please try and do that, you son of a bitch, and I’ll kill you before they get here, and I mean I really will. It’s all I can do to keep from killing you right now, for all the grief you have brought on me,” John threatened.
As John was talking to Samuels, Juan and Tomas were questioning the young Mexican girl, who told them her name was Carmen.
Then John asked Samuels, “OK, now where are the rest of the bearer bonds and the cash you got for the ones you cashed at the bank?”
“None of your business,” Samuels snarled.
“OK, you bastard. I was hoping to do this the easy way, but we can do it the hard way. I’m going to shoot you in one knee cap and you will limp for life. Then if you haven’t told me, I’ll shoot you in the other knee cap and you will spend the rest of your life in a wheel chair. Then if you haven’t told me I’ll put you out of your misery with a bullet through the roof of your mouth. Now let’s get started,” John threatened, drew his pistol, and pointed it at Samuel’s right knee.
Samuels quickly lost his arrogance and began to sweat.
“OK, OK, don’t shoot. I’ll tell you,” he said.
“You have ten seconds to hand over the bonds and cash, or I’ll start shooting, and if you think I’m lying, look in my eyes,” John told him.
Samuels stared into John’s eyes and saw nothing but hate.
John followed Samuels closely as he went into the bedroom and took a briefcase from under the bed and laid it on the bed.
John warned him, “Just unlock it; don’t reach inside. I’ll do that.”
John’s caution paid off. When he opened the case another Colt pocket pistol was on top of a pile of cash and bonds. John told him, “You’re not only a damned thief, but a sneak too. I should just kill you right now. I could be back in Texas before anyone finds you. In fact, I think I will just kill you now,” and he reached for a pillow as if to muffle the sound. Samuels not only was sweating more, but he began to tremble. He was sure he was about to die. Indeed the thought had crossed John’s mind but he thought better of it.
Samuels started to think he would live when John produced a set of shackles and fastened them on Samuel’s wrists behind his back.
Samuels complained, “They are too tight. They are hurting my wrists.”
“Good,” John said.
The buggy only held four, so John fashioned a noose from a rope. He put the noose around Samuels’s throat and forced him to walk behind the buggy. His hands were still shackled behind his back. Tomas, Juan, John and Carmen rode in the crowded buggy. John held the briefcase on his lap and one hand held the rope tethered to Samuels.
Samuels complained loudly all of the way then John shouted to him, “You shut up, or I’ll have them speed up the wagon and drag you by the neck.”
Samuels quieted down. Traveling through the poor section of town, several people came out into the street to watch them pass by. A few old women knelt down and crossed themselves. They though
t they were watching a crude reenactment of Jesus carrying the cross.
When they got back to the Ortiz home, Tomas helped John lock Samuels in the stable tack room. He then instructed his most trusted employee, Jose Ramos, to guard him. Jose sat on a bale of hay outside the locked tack room door with a Winchester rifle across his lap. Tomas explained to John, “He will be secure in there. Jose is my most honest employee, and he knows how to use that rifle. Every year I give him time off to hunt deer with his friends, and every year he brings us venison.”
The rest of them went into the house to hear Carmen’s story. Juan and Tomas took turns relating the story Carmen told them earlier.
Her parents were killed when a mud slide pushed their buggy over a cliff on a road outside of Mexico City. Her only living relative was an uncle, so she was sent here to live with him. Unfortunately her uncle had no interest in girls or women. He and his live-in partner, Pedro, only loved each other. After her uncle met Samuels in some cantina, he sold her to Samuels for $50 in American money.
Samuels was mean to her. He literally made a slave of her. She did all of the cooking and cleaning. She was beaten if he was drunk or refused his commands to perform kinky sex acts with him. Hearing this, Rosita rushed to her, hugged and kissed her and told her in Spanish, “You poor dear, you are safe here. You can live with us, and we will take care of you and treat you like you were our own daughter.”
Carmen smiled and said, “Gracias, gracias.”
Then Tomas volunteered, “That may be something else you can pin on Samuels.”
“What is that?” John asked.
“Slavery and false imprisonment. If you will guard Samuels for a while, I’ll send Jose to bring my attorney here. He can take a deposition from her, have her sign it, I’ll witness it, and you can use that at his trial,” Tomas suggested.
“Great idea. And if it’s OK with you, I’ll ask Juan to go into town with him and send a telegram to the ranch and have them meet us in Corpus Christi with a wagon.”
“Fine, fine,” answered Tomas. In about an hour Jose and Juan returned with the attorney, Pablo Fuentes, following in his own buggy.
John King Bounty Hunter Page 5