Matt Jensen: The Last Mountain Man Purgatory

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Matt Jensen: The Last Mountain Man Purgatory Page 12

by William W. Johnstone


  “If that wheel comes off on me, Johnny, when I get back here I’m goin’ to come down on you like flies on a cow turd.”

  Johnny laughed. “Trust me, it’ll be fine.”

  “Ha! The last time someone said ‘Trust me,’ she wound up givin’ me a case of the pox,” Gabby said. “But, I reckon I got no choice but to trust you.” He looked at Matt. “What do you say, sonny? You willin’ to take a chance?”

  “I’m willing,” Matt replied.

  “I figured you would be. But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say nothin’ to the other passengers about that wheel.”

  “I won’t say a word,” Matt promised.

  “All right, Johnny, let’s get the luggage loaded, then you can tell the folks in there we’re ready to go.”

  The luggage was brought out onto the porch, then loaded into the boot, though there was so much that several pieces had to be put on the roof. Gabby and Johnny spent about five minutes loading and securing the luggage. Then Gabby climbed up into the driver’s seat.

  “Come on up, sonny,” Gabby called down to Matt. “Soon as the others get loaded, we’ll get under way.”

  The road ran parallel with the Southern Pacific Railroad tracks, and about two hours after they left Sentinel, they passed the burnt-out, smashed, and strewn cars from the wreck. A huge, rail-mounted lifting crane was on the scene as a railroad work crew went about the business of repairing the railroad and cleaning up the mess.

  “That must’ve been some wreck,” Gabby said.

  “It was.”

  Gabby looked over at Matt. “Was you in it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I’ll be. All this time we’ve been talkin’, and you ain’t said nothin’ about bein’ in the wreck.”

  Matt laughed. “Gabby, if you’ll excuse me for saying so, all this time you’ve been talking.”

  Gabby laughed. “Well, I guess you got me on that one, sonny,” he said. “It weren’t for nothin’ that I come by this moniker Gabby. So you was in that train wreck, was you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I figured it was pretty bad, what with all the bodies and the injured that was brought into town and all. I guess I just didn’t have me any idee of what it actual looked like.”

  “Maybe, seeing the train wreck, the complainers down inside will understand why they are being inconvenienced,” Matt suggested.

  “Ha, don’t count on it,” Gabby said. “Folks like that would complain if you hung ’em with a new rope.”

  Matt chuckled, though as he had been on his way to being hanged, the joke hit a little closer to home than he would have wanted.

  “Gabby, have you ever heard of an outlaw named Cletus Odom?”

  “I hope to smile I’ve heard of him. Why are you asking about him? Don’t tell me you are a bounty hunter, lookin’ to claim the reward on him.”

  “No, I just heard the name and I was wondering about him, that’s all,” Matt said. “Why, is there a reward on him?”

  “Oh, yeah, there’s a reward on him all right. Five thousand dollars it is, same as what’s on this Jensen fella. But whoever goes after it will have to earn it, because I’ll tell you this about him. He may be just about the meanest son of a bitch that ever drawed a breath. He robbed a coach once, then shot ever’ man, woman, and child so’s nobody could identify him. Only one of the women lived long enough to tell the law who did it, which is how come we know who it was.”

  “That was a brave woman,” Matt said.

  “Yes, sir, she was that.”

  “This man, Cletus Odom,” Matt continued. “Would he be the kind of man that would wreck a train just to rob it?”

  “Hell, yes,” Gabby said. “He’d do that in a heartbeat. And to tell you the truth, if we didn’t know for sure that this here Matt Jensen fella wrecked the train, I would’a bet a dollar to a doughnut that Odom did it.”

  “How do we know that Matt Jensen did it?”

  “How do we know? ’Cause Marshal Kyle said he done it.”

  “And you believe everything Kyle says?”

  “Well, Ben Kyle is a good man,” Gabby said. “He ain’t given much to lies and such. So, if he said Jensen done it, then I reckon I have to go along with that.”

  “How do you think he did it?”

  “There’s prob’ly lots of ways he could’a done it. He could’a shot the engineer and fireman, so there was nobody to run the train. And it if was goin’ too fast around a curve, well, you could see what would happen.”

  “But why would he have done such a thing?”

  “Well, if he stole the money, then he prob’ly wrecked the train just to cause a lot of confusion so’s he could get away.”

  “You seem to have it all worked out,” Matt said.

  Gabby chuckled. “Yes, sir. Well, truth to tell, though I ain’t never done nothin’ like that, from time to time I like to plan things out. Sort of a hobby, you might say.”

  “I see.”

  “But now, don’t go gettin’ me wrong,” Gabby said. “They ain’t no way on God’s green earth I’d ever actual do somethin’ like that.”

  “Getting back to Cletus Odom,” Matt said. “Do you know much about him?”

  “You sure are askin’ a lot of questions,” Gabby said.

  Matt chuckled. “Well, I tell you, Gabby, you like to talk, so I figured I would just see to it that you talk about something I’m interested in.”

  Gabby guffawed. “You got me there, sonny,” he said. “Yes, sir, you really did. Well, let’s see, what do I know about Cletus Odom?”

  Gabby spit a wad of tobacco, which hit the top of the wheel, then rolled under with the progress of the stage. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Cletus Odom,” he said again. “All right, sonny, you just sit there and listen, and I’ll tell you about Cletus Odom.

  “At one time, Cletus Odom was on the right side of the law. Leastwise, you could say that. He was a bounty hunter, you see, but he was the kind who would rather bring in dead quarry than live prisoners. He always made the claim that he didn’t have no choice, that he was only defendin’ himself. Even then, there was folks that didn’t like him, but then he done somethin’ that put him on the wrong side of the law for good.”

  Gabby pulled out a twist of chewing tobacco, offered it to Matt, who declined, then bit off a big chew. He worked the chew down somewhat before he continued his tale.

  “Seems there was a couple of cowboys named Evans and McCoy. They rode for the Rocking J. That’s a spread about ten miles south of Sentinel. I know’d ’em both, they was good boys—a little rambunctious at times, if you know what I mean. But all in all they was good boys.

  “Well, sir, after a drive one day—wan’t that much of a drive, all they done was just bring some cows into town from the ranch in order to ship ’em out on the railroad. Then, after they got the cows loaded and drawed their pay, they went into the Ox Bow and started drinkin’.

  “Turns out that Odom was in the saloon, too, and he was causin’ trouble for this little ole’ gal that Evans liked. I mean, she was a whore, there was no gettin’ around that, but Evans was sweet on her. Anyhow, when he seen Odom slap her, he walked over and knocked Odom down.”

  Gabby spit out a stream of tobacco, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before he continued the story.

  “Well, sir, Odom, he didn’t like that much. No, sir, he didn’t like that none at all. So he got to eggin’ Evans and McCoy on, callin’ ’em cowards and other things that no man could take and still call hisself a man. Then, Evans and McCoy pulled iron agin’ Odom. And that was their mistake.”

  “He killed them?”

  “He kilt both of ’em, deader’n a doornail,” Gabby said. “There was an inquest, but it was ruled self-defense, bein’ as a lot of people seen that Evans and McCoy drawed first. ’Course nobody felt good about it, what with Odom eggin’ ’em on like he done. So whatever support Odom might have had for bringin’ in outlaws was sort of
used up that day.”

  “If he was found not guilty, why is there a reward out for him?” Matt asked.

  “Well, sir, like I said, Odom didn’t have many friends left after he kilt them two cowboys. Then, not long after that, he kilt a man and brung him in for the reward. Onliest thing is, they had already pulled the paper on the feller he brought in, when they found out that he wasn’t guilty. Besides which, the reward didn’t say nothin’ about ‘dead or alive’ in the first place. They tried Odom again, an’ this time they found him guilty of murder, but he escaped and went on the outlaw trail.”

  “What about the men who ride with him?” Matt asked. “A Mexican named Paco. A big man named Bates and someone named Schuler.”

  “They’re all ridin’ with Odom?” Gabby asked.

  “So I’ve heard,” Matt answered, not wanting to give away how he actually knew.

  “I’ll be damn. I didn’t know that. Well, I can tell you about two of them fellers,” Gabby said. “Bates, the big fella, is a mean son of a bitch, all right. Word is, he once beat a miner to death with his bare hands. The Mexican, I don’t know nothin’ about. I ain’t never heard of him. But the other fella would be Moses Schuler. Me ’n’ Moses Schuler was friends once. He didn’t start out to be an outlaw, but I don’t doubt that he’s rid down that trail by now.”

  “What sent him that way?”

  “Whiskey, I reckon. Once whiskey gets aholt of a man, it don’t let him go.”

  “You say the two of you were friends?”

  “Yes, sir. Moses was a powder monkey with the Cross Point Mine. He was a good one, too. Why, he could shave off shale as easy as cuttin’ butter. But that’s a dangerous job and Schuler started drinkin’ a bit, just to settle his nerves, you understand. Only, he drank too much once, and he double-loaded a shoot. Instead of carving off a little bit of shale, it caused a mine cave-in. There was nine men kilt in that cave-in.

  “Moses was never the same after that. He started drinkin’ more and workin’ less until he was fired. I heard tell that he blew a safe during a bank robbery down in Tucson, but don’t nobody know that for sure. You say he’s workin’ with Odom now?”

  “Yes, or so I’ve heard,” Matt said.

  “That’s too bad. Moses may not be dependable, and maybe he’s even stole a few things. But I don’t think he would ever kill anyone, not with how he was so upset over the accident in the mine.”

  “How long since you’ve seen him?” Matt asked.

  “How long? Lord ’a mercy, I’m not sure how long it’s been,” Gabby said. “I’d make it three years or more.”

  “So he could be riding with Cletus Odom now and you would never know it,” Matt suggested.

  Gabby spit out another stream of tobacco juice, then nodded. “You got me there, sonny, you got me there,” he said.

  “Sorry I was the one who had to tell you about your friend,” Matt said.

  “Don’t worry about it. I reckon I would have found out soon enough anyway. Ah, there’s the relay station just ahead. We’ll grab a bite to eat here, change teams, then be on our way. Oh, and while I’m looking after the teams, would you mind givin’ this to Rittenhouse over there?” Gabby asked. “The marshal wants these posted everywhere.”

  Gabby gave Matt one of the wanted posters he had seen tacked up earlier.

  “Sure,” Matt said. “I’d be glad to.”

  Chapter Eleven

  As the coach rolled into the station, Gabby hauled back on the reins and set the brake. With the stage at a standstill, the little cloud of dust that had been following them now rolled by them, and Matt heard some of the passengers coughing below.

  Gabby chuckled. “You’re better off up here,” he said. “That dust really gets inside down there.”

  “I know. I’ve ridden shotgun guard a few times in my life.”

  “I figured you probably knew your way around a stagecoach,” Gabby said. He climbed down and yelled at the passengers in the stage. “Folks, we’ll be here for half an hour. Stretch your legs, take care of your needs, maybe grab some lunch. Miz Rittenhouse runs the kitchen here, and she makes some mighty fine chicken ’n’ dumplin’s.”

  “Chicken and dumplings?” one of the men said. “My God, the driver actually said that as if we could possibly find such pedestrian fare appealing.”

  Matt climbed down as well, listening to the continuing complaints of the two men who, it would appear, were trying to outdo each other. He was glad he wasn’t riding down in the box.

  While the others went inside, Matt walked over to a couple of men who were standing near the corral.

  “Yes, sir, what can I do for you?” the older of the two men asked.

  “Are you Rittenhouse? Gabby asked me to give this to you,” Matt said, showing him the poster.

  The man looked at it for a moment, then whistled. “Five thousand dollars? That’s a lot of money.”

  “Yes, it is,” Matt agreed.

  “Damn. No picture? No description? How’s anyone supposed to find this fella?” the relay manager asked.

  “You’ve got me,” Matt replied.

  Rittenhouse turned to the young man to continue the conversation they were having when Matt had walked up.

  “So, you are telling me that you are not going to take that string of horses for me?”

  “I can’t, Mr. Rittenhouse,” the young man said. “Ma says Cindy is goin’ to have the baby just anytime now, and I wouldn’t want it to come while I was off pushin’ horses.”

  “Damnit, Jimmy, I’ve got to get that string to Purgatory,” Rittenhouse said. “Now, suppose you just tell me how the hell I’m goin’ to do that.”

  “I’ll take them for you,” Matt said.

  Rittenhouse looked at Matt. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You have a string of horses you want to take to Purgatory, I’m going to Purgatory, I’ll take them for you. But you’ll have to loan me a horse and saddle, I got here on the stage.”

  “Mister, I don’t know anything about you,” Rittenhouse said. “How do you expect me to trust you with a string of horses?”

  Matt smiled. “I guess you’ll just have trust your instinct,” he said.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Cavanaugh,” Matt answered. “Martin Cavanaugh.”

  “Cavanaugh? Martin Cavanaugh?” Rittenhouse shook his head. “I know’d me a Martin Cavanaugh oncet. He was a good man, too. A hell of a good man. Cap’n Martin Cavanaugh it was. I served with him durin’ the war.”

  “My pa was a captain in the army during the war,” Matt said.

  “Your pa, huh?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, I don’t reckon there’s much a chance it’d be the same man or nothin’ like that,” Rittenhouse said. “But just ’cause I’m curious, what outfit was your pa in?”

  “Pa started with the First Regiment of the Kansas Militia,” Matt said. “But he was wounded, and after that, he became adjutant to General Cox of the Twenty-third Army of Ohio.”

  Rittenhouse broke into a big smile. “I’ll be damn! Yes, sir, that’s him! That’s the same Cap’n Cavanaugh I was talkin’ about!” he said. He stuck his hand out. “Any son of Cap’n Cavanaugh is all right in my book. Are you sure you’d like to take the string on into Purgatory?”

  “I’d be glad to,” Matt said.

  “All I can pay is ten dollars.”

  “Ten dollars will be fine,” Matt replied. “Like I said, I’m going there anyway.”

  “Jimmy?”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Rittenhouse?”

  “Cap’n Cavanaugh was one of the finest officers I ever run across. And his son just saved your job by agreein’ to take the horses. You owe him a word of thanks.”

  “Yes, sir, I do,” Jimmy said. “Thank you, Mr. Cavanaugh. I hope you understand, if it weren’t for Cindy about to whelp, I’d’a been glad to go.”

  “I understand,” Matt said. “You give your wife my best.”

  “Yes, sir, I will.”
/>   “You owe him a bit more than thanks,” Rittenhouse said. “Saddle up Rhoda for him. And get them horses on a line. But before you do all that, get this posted.” He handed Jimmy the dodger on Matt.

  “Yes, sir,” Jimmy said, taking the flyer in his hand.

  “You can come on in and have some lunch while Jimmy’s getting ever’thing ready for you,” Rittenhouse said.

  “Thanks, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d just as soon get started right away,” Matt said.

  “I understand. All right, I’ll just go in and get your money.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  As Rittenhouse walked toward the relay station, Matt watched Jimmy tack up the poster on the wall of the barn. There were several other posters there as well, so Matt walked over to have a look at them as Jimmy got the horses ready. It didn’t take him long to find the one he was looking for.

  WANTED

  DEAD or ALIVE

  for MURDER and ROBBERY

  CLETUS ODOM

  Reward of $1,500

  Unlike the wanted poster for Matt Jensen, this reward poster did have a picture of Odom. It was a woodcut, but evidently taken from an actual photograph, because Matt saw a striking resemblance between the picture and the man he had seen robbing the train.

  Looking around to make certain he wasn’t being observed, Matt tore the dodger down from the gray, weathered plank siding of the barn, and stuck it in his pocket. He was standing at the fence with his arms folded on the top rail when Rittenhouse came back. He handed Matt a ten-dollar bill and a brown paper bag.

  “I know you said you didn’t plan to eat, but there’s some fresh baked bread and ham in the sack. I thought you could gnaw on it a bit while you were on the trail.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Rittenhouse. I appreciate that.”

  “No problem,” Rittenhouse said. “Say, whatever happened to your pa anyway? I never heard from him again after we was all mustered out. Course, him bein’ an officer and me just a private, I didn’t expect to. But I have wondered about him from time to time.”

 

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