The Two Sams

by F. M. Worden

  Sam asked, “Who are you, what’s a black man doing with these Warriors?”

  The black became visibly angered. “Who are you to question me? White eyes. I’m a free man and can do as I damn please, you go to hell white man.”

  Sam tried to be calm and asked, “What is your name? I must know you from some where.”

  “My name is Joe, Joe Duncan. My Comanche name is He Walks Fast, what is your name white man?”

  With a big smile he said, “Duncan, Sam Du—.” Before Sam could finish his name the black was down off his horse, rushed to and with both arms was hugging Sam with all his might. Sam was hugging back and the tears flowed freely from these two adult men. Sam’s people looked in amazement at this outward show of affection to each other. The two warriors looked to each other in disbelief.

  Sam finally composed himself and told Sunny and Otto, “This is my friend from my boyhood days.” Joe told the two Comanche warriors the same in their language.

  Sam invited all three warriors to his camp where meat, bread and coffee were served to the Comanches. This Pow-Wow went on the rest of the day and late into the night. Sam and Joe talked of their lives and families until they were talked out. Joe told Sam he was a happy man, he had three wives and many children. “The Comanche’re good to me.” He told of his life in the free states as a young boy.

  Next morning Sam told Otto he was tired of killing and wanted to go back to Fort Dodge. “I have enough money to last awhile.”

  Otto agreed, “Tell em we’re leaving.”

  Joe and Sam told each other they love one another and would be brothers forever, then they parted.

  Within the next week the party reached Fort Dodge, the fort was now Dodge City, it was a railroad town for shipping cattle to the east. Otto said he wanted to go north and hunt more buffalo, the two sold their hides, paid the help and divided the rest. Sam sold Otto his wagon and team. Said he was going to do something else didn’t know what. Otto had Sunny’s nose fixed and she was now his common-law wife. Otto and the skinners headed north.

  Sam stayed in the Long Branch hotel and saloon, he sat on the porch smoking a corn cob pipe and watched the town’s goings on, it was very entertaining.

  He was down in the livery stable checking on his horse when a well dressed man approached him. He carried two pearl handled six guns on his side, butts forward. He stood six foot tall, two hundred pounds, a handle bar mustache and long blond hair hung over his shoulders. “Can I talk with you mister?”

  “Sure. What can I do for you?” Sam had seen this man around town and knew he was the law.

  “I’m the Marshal in this town and in bad need of a deputy, been watching you, I see you can handle yourself, how’s about you hire-n on? I’m in need of a good man. Pays good and you don’t do a whole lot, just kinda keep the cowboys in line. My name is Hickok, Bill Hickok, what’s your handle?”

  “Sam, Sam Duncan, never thought of bein’ a lawman, sounds good, you just hired yourself a deputy.” Sam was sworn in that afternoon. He purchased a new blue suit, with a vest where he pinned his badge. He had to have a new hat, the work was easy. In the two years he was with Bill Hickok, he didn’t kill anyone, he had busted a few heads but no real trouble, mostly young cowboys from Texas who had come with trail herds of long horns, they were just look-n for a good time, no real trouble.

  Sam tired of this job. He heard that lawmen were being hired in Fort Smith, Arkansas. He told Bill that he had been in that country as a boy and would like to go take a look.

  “I can’t stop ya, I’ll write a letter of recommendation.”

  In two weeks Sam walked into the court house of Judge Isaac Parker in Fort Smith Arkansas. He was ushered into the Judge’s office by a Marshal Crump. The judge was a man in his late fifties, he sat behind a large desk. His piercing eyes could look right thru a man, a big smile was on his face that his white beard could not hide, his hair was snowy white. He stood and extended his hand. “I understand you want to come work for me, I’ve looked over your record and I believe you will make a fine deputy. Marshal Crump will give you a booklet to study and in a few days you’ll be sent with another marshal to get to know the ropes, that ok with you?”

  “Okay, with me.”

  “Any questions Sam?” The judge leaned close to listen.

  “How and when do I get paid?”

  “When you bring in a criminal you will get money, try to bring them in alive. Did I answer your question?”

  “Until the time comes, you did.”

  Sam rented a hotel room, he went to look for something to eat. He went to a café in the same block as the hotel. Entered and sat at a table with his back against the wall. Dodge City had taught him that. A very fine looking woman came to take his order, Sam smiled and said, “Are all the ladies in this town as pretty as you?”

  “You must be a new marshal, all you guys are full of shit.” She had a big smile and then started laughing.

  Sam gave her a wink. “Are you a single lady?”

  “Free, white and twenty-one.”

  “I’m gonna get to know you lady,” Sam said as he looked her over.

  “You can bet on it.” She took his order, turned around, shook her hind-end and walked away.

  When she returned with his food, she sat down next to him and they talked as he had his dinner. She asked about him, he said very little of himself. He said he had a wife that died, he was having a bad time getting over her, he asked questions about her.

  She had been married, her husband got sick and died. That’s all she would tell him except her name was Nell Snyder. She did tell him she baked the pie he was eating. He bid her goodbye and told her he would be back soon.

  “I’ll be right here a-waiting,” she said with a big smile.

  Sam looked up a gun shop to buy some ammo. The owner placed a new hand gun on the counter and told Sam this was the newest thing out, a Smith and Wesson Schofield revolver. “I think you’ll like it, see how it breaks open to load.” He then handed the pistol to Sam, he looked it over.

  “I really like the feel of it, a man can load this son-of-gun on a dead run on horse- back, you got a place I can shoot her?”

  “Right out back, come on let’s try her out.” The shop had a range with iron targets set up. Sam loaded and hit all six targets just by pointing and shooting.

  “Man that’s great shooting, how you like her?” The owner was impressed.

  “Can I trade in my colt and gun belt?”

  “You bet, let’s go in and make a deal.”

  Sam got a new Cavalry model with an eight inch barrel and another with a four inch barrel and two new gun belts and holsters.

  Sam went to the nations the first time with a Deputy Tolbert, known as Pad. The man had blue eyes that would look deep into your brain and almost tell what you were thinking. He had a southern drawl and he was awfully polite. He seemed too easy going to be a lawman, Sam soon learned when Pad got on a trail he always got his man.

  On their first outing, they rode thru the Choctaw, Sam met people he remembered and they said they remembered him as a boy. Pad was impressed, Pad told Sam about the nations. “Each tribe has its own lawmen, they call them light horse men, they take care of the Indian problems. We’re after the whiskey peddlers, bootleggers, robbers, killers, horse thieves and all who commit crimes against the U.S. government.”

  Sam rode with Pad several months, Pad suggested that Sam should get a new Winchester rifle, the Henry was outdated. Sam followed Pad’s advice, the next time in Ft Smith, he purchased a 73 saddle ring carbine in 44 caliber, same as his Scohfield. Pad and Sam worked together for two months and in that time brought in three men that Judge Parker hung for crimes of robbery and murder.

  Sam would stay at a hotel when in town and eat at the café where Nell worked. He had many conversations with her and came to want to see more of her, as he needed female companionship. After one evening meal she invited him to move in with her. “I have a house and barn on the out sk
irts of town, you will like it there, you’ve got nothing to lose.”

  Sam was puzzled. “Why me Nell, there’s plenty men in town that wants to move in with you.”

  She told him she liked his company. “You don’t cuss, you don’t drink, you’re always clean and you’re clean shaven, I likes that in a man. I ain’t never been married, never found a man I would want, I ain’t the marry-n kind. When I told you I was married once I lied, besides if we can’t get along or you don’t like my bed we can split, Okay Sam?”

  “I’ll give it a try,” He said with a big smile. He moved in the same day.

  The next deputy Sam rode with was Sam Brass, a much younger man than himself, a black man who over the next few years became the most feared deputy out of Judge Parker’s court. If he was sent to get a law breaker, it was a sure bet he’d bring em in.

  The Sam’s called each other by their last names, so did most other people when they saw them together.

  The two were sent to bring in one Bob Cook, he was twenty-two years old, a horse thief, robber and raper of any woman he happened to come across. He was last reported to be in the Kickapoo Nation. Sam and Brass were traveling the road north by Turkey Creek, in the nation when a shot rang out and hit Sam’s horse knocking him and the horse down. The shot came from the trees to their right, Sam scrambled up and threw a pistol shot at a figure moving thru the trees. Brass did the same and a scream could be heard, a bullet had found its mark.

  The two deputies were on him in seconds, Cook lay in pain, a bullet had hit him in his left side and leg. He was cuss-n something terrible, he called the two deputies every dirty name he knew.

  “You shot my horse you worthless bastard. I should finish you off right now.” Sam was mad as hell.

  “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot, I’m hurt bad, get me a doctor,” the young man cried in his pain. The deputies managed to get the bleeding stopped.

  Sam returned to look at his horse, the big Red Roan was hit just below the neck line, he was trying to get up, his big sorrowful eyes pleaded for Sam to help him. One shot stopped his pain, Sam loved the old roan, he had him for five years, a true and faithful friend.

  Sam would have shot the kid but Brass stopped him. He looked for and found the kid’s horse, a big powerful Dunn, maybe twelve hundred pounds. Sam asked repeatedly where he got the horse. The kid told Sam the horse was the only thing he had paid money for. “Got-em when he was two years old.”

  “He’s mine now.” Sam went and retrieved his saddle and took off and threw the kid’s saddle into the road.

  Brass looked for and found an Indian with a wagon. They took the kid to a federal jail in the town of Guthrie and had a doctor treat him. “He’s got blood poison in his leg, he’s lost a lot of blood, gonna die soon,” the doctor told them.

  The two stayed in a hotel, the kid died three days later. The Sams paid two dollars to have him put in the ground. They returned to Ft Smith and reported to the Judge.

  The next time out Sam and Brass were after the Cherokee Kid, a half Indian boy, who was twenty-five years old and as mean as a snake. The two deputies shot and killed three of his companions, but missed getting him.

  They had been out for three months. They were on the way back to Ft Smith on a road running along the north side of the Red River. Four horsemen blocked their path. Both deputies drew their pistols and held them by the right leg ready for action. It turned out the men were Texas Rangers look-n for the kid too, he had been in Texas and killed a rancher, his wife and two little girls.

  The men camped together that night. The Ranger leader was Captain John Hayes, a man of some notable reputation. He asked how the deputies liked working for the US Government in the Nations? Both said it’s okay. Sam said that the pay was slow and the deputies were being killed regularly. The Captain invited the two to come down to Texas and join the Rangers. “We need good men all the time, the pay is good and on time, we’re treated well in Texas.”

  Sam told him he just might do that.

  “Come on down to Austin and tell Captain McDonald I sent you,” Hayes said.

  Two days later the two rode into Ft Smith, Judge Parker was mad that they didn’t get the Cherokee kid and they had killed the others, he wanted them alive. Sam asked if their pay had come? It hadn’t and the Judge didn’t like Sam asking.

  Sam told the Judge of the Ranger’s offer.

  “Go on if you don’t like it here.” The judge had anger in his voice.

  Sam took off his badge and laid it on the judge’s desk. “I just quit. You can send my pay to Austin in care of the Texas Rangers.”

  “Good,” the Judge said. “When you get home you’ll see that woman you been sleep-n with has run off with a Mississippi River gambler.”

  Sam thanked the Judge, shook hands with Brass. “Nice know’n ya. I’ll see you again some time.” They parted friends, Sam rode home.

  When he entered the house he found Nell coming from the bedroom, putting on her clothing. A sinister looking man with dark features followed her from the bedroom. He was half dressed.

  “Sam, she said. “You been gone a long time, I....”

  Sam cut her short. “I don’t want to hear about it, I’ll get my belongings and get out.”

  He took his things in a war bag, put his horses in the livery stable in town and stayed in the hotel that night.

  Next day he got some grub, packed his pack horse and riding the Dunn, he rode west into the Choctaw. He remembered the day as a boy when he went the other way toward the Mississippi. Memories came flooding back into his mind some happy most sad. Some things change, some don’t, he said to himself, he was happy to be on the move again.

  Chapter 11

  Sylvia, Texas Rangers

  As he rode west on the road to the Choctaw agency, his mind wandered back to his boyhood days, when he came to the Choctaw with his family. It was a good time and a sad time, he had to leave his friend Little Joe. He though of Joe and his Comanche family, he thought of Jack his brother, will I ever see them again? It was almost dark when he rode into the Agency.

  He reined up at agency headquarters. An older rather heavyset woman came out on to the porch. In a very unfriendly voice with a German accent, “You got business here?”

  “I need a place to camp tonight. Can I camp in the trees by the horse pens?”

  “Sure you can, don’t make no big fires and no trouble.”

  “Thank Ya Ma’am. I’m no trouble maker.”

  Sam put the horses in a small pen, fed and watered them, made a cooking fire, fixed his supper and turned in for the night.

  At first light he was up and fed the horses and fixed breakfast and walked to the agency cemetery, it wasn’t far from the horse pens. There he saw chiseled in a marble head stone his Ma and Pa’s name. It read, “SAM AND LIZ DUNCAN.” No date of death, nothing else, next to them was his Aunt and Uncle with their names on a stone, nothing else, just Walter and Jane.

  He talked to them as if they were there and told them all he missed and loved them.

  Said out loud, “May you all rest in peace.” Tears ran freely as he returned to his camp, he saddled and packed the horses and rode the road west from the agency.

  He rode in the Choctaw all day, turned south and reached the road that ran on the north side of the Red River, he rode into the setting sun. Just at sunset he made camp, figured he was at the southwest edge of the reservation, he camped off the road thirty or so yards in a clump of trees.

  After seeing to the horse’s needs he made and ate his supper, he lay back in his saddle and watched the stars fill the darkened sky. A quarter moon came up, it shed a dim light thru the trees. He started to roll up in his blankets when a voice came from the dark, it spoke in Choctaw, asking to come in. Sam held his pistol so the one who called could see it. He called, “Come in slow and easy,” in Choctaw.

  Soon an old Indian, followed by a woman and three young girls came into the fire light. The Indian said, “We’ve lost our way in the dark, s
aw your fire, we mean you no harm.”

  Sam returned the pistol to its holster. “Come in and warm yourselves by my fire,” Sam spoke in their language again.

  One of the young girls complained of being cold and hungry.

  “Come set by the fire, I’ll fix you all something to eat.” He went to his grub bag and fixed beans and bacon and put on a fresh pot of coffee. When the food was ready, he gave the old one a plate full, he ate heartily using his fingers and as each person ate a plate full, Sam would fill it again and it was passed to the next. Same with a coffee cup. After they ate and drank, the three girls lay down and rolled up in blankets and went to sleep. The older woman came close and looked Sam in the eyes and said something like, “I know you.”

  He replied, “Maybe, maybe you do.”

  She took a blanket, lay down by the girls and went to sleep.

  The old Indian man wanted to talk, he started by asking questions. “Who are you? Where you from? Where you go? How you speak Choctaw?”

  Sam stopped him saying, “I lived at the agency as a boy, my Ma and Pa passed on and are buried in the cemetery here.”

  The old one looked hard at Sam. “You a boy Indian Medicine Man saved with water and sprits?”

  “I am that boy.”

  The old one said, “I am that Medicine man.” He put both hands out to Sam, palms up, Sam placed his hands on the old ones.

  “I wished many times you had come sooner.” Sam’s voice quivered as he spoke.

  “The Great Spirit moves in you my son, the Spirit One told me in a dream you would be a great man.” He looked to the sky. “Oh Great Spirit guide and be with this man.”

  The old one prayed out loud to his God, he told Sam, “I must sleep now, old people need much rest, if we are to be here tomorrow.” He joined the others, rolled up in a blanket, lay down and went to sleep.

  When Sam woke up, it was barely daylight, the Indian people were walking away toward the road. Sam called, “Wait, let me fix you some food.”

  The old one turned and called back with a raised hand, “May the Great Spirit walk with you always.” He turned and led his little group east on the river road.