Slocum 421

by Jake Logan

  “So are lots of us who have felt their edge. We got in a good jab. Go to sleep. It is Sunday and I am going to church today.” She gathered their bowls.

  “I’ll go with you,” Slocum said. “We have no idea how they will react to this treatment.”

  “That’s fine. But I can handle it myself.”

  “I’ll go with you.” He wasn’t going to let her slough him off. There was no telling what the ranch hands’ response to the past night would be, and he didn’t want her hurt.

  “All right, you can go with me. But you can’t sleep in church.”

  They all laughed. The other two men went to the bunkhouse. He started for his bedroll and she took him to her bed, pulled off his boots, and told him to get undressed and get some sleep.

  He did not argue. She leaned over and kissed him. “Go to sleep.”

  “Yes ma’am.” In minutes, he was sound asleep, and he only partially knew when she joined him, but he recalled that before falling off again, he smiled to himself, when she crowded up against his back and threw her arm over him.

  * * *

  He drove the buckboard and wore a white shirt that belonged to Jon. It was warm and cloudy. They took slickers, and Slocum put a Winchester in the scabbard on the dashboard.

  Glenna wore a starched blue dress and a scarf over her head and shoulders. She looked very pretty, straight-backed seated beside him. The matched light team stepped out smartly. They made the trip quickly to the schoolhouse, and he helped her down then parked the team while she visited with friends in the bright sun. Jon’s rain warning had evaporated, with a strong south wind no doubt pushing the clouds away.

  He joined her and she introduced him as John Clark.

  “Nice to meet you, John,” a gray-headed lady said.

  He nodded, then they made their way inside. They sat on benches toward the back. Many families were there, and they sang hymns and prayed, and the minister read something from John and preached on the subject.

  There was some social gathering outside after, and Slocum met other ranchers, who had a few curious questions to ask him.

  “You know about Garvin’s efforts to run us all off?” one man asked.

  “Yes, Glenna told me all about it. You may need to organize and meet him head-on.”

  “Aw, few of us are tough enough to meet them gunhands of his like that.”

  “They force you far enough back, you may need to do that.”

  “I sure dread the whole thing.”

  Slocum agreed. Glenna nodded that she was ready to go, and she said good-bye to everyone. They walked to where the buckboard team was tied to a hitch post. He untied the horses, straightened the lines, and handed them to her before he climbed up and joined her.

  “Thanks,” she said, squeezing his arm when he sat beside her.

  “Clark?”

  “I didn’t want you exposed. All I could think of in such a short time.”

  “No problem. Good thinking.” He clucked to the horses, and they swept away for the ranch.

  They topped a rolling hill, and he saw half a dozen riders in the road. Two or three had their arms in slings or their heads bandaged.

  He wanted to laugh, but instead he said, “Get the rifle out and then take the reins.”

  She did. “That’s Sears. Watch him.”

  “I will.”

  The horses sawed down to a walk, and he handed her the reins. He reached for and loaded the rifle with the lever, cocked it, and balanced the rifle butt on his knee.

  “What do you think?” she asked under her breath when the riders held their place in the road.

  “Stop the horses.”

  “Who the hell are you?” the man she called Sears asked him from under his droopy-brim brown felt hat.

  “The man that’s going to blow your brains out if you don’t get out of the road.”

  Sears checked his horse. “You talk damn tough for a man outgunned here.”

  “You won’t know if I am or I’m not, because you’ll die first.” Slocum rose and took aim at him.

  “Someone messed with our horses last night in town. You know anything about it?”

  “I know you’re blocking a public road. Get the hell aside or you will die.” He held the gun pointed at the big man’s heart.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “Move or die!”

  “Hold it. We are going to find out who messed with our horses, and when we do, we’ll hang them.”

  The rifle still nested in his shoulder, Slocum motioned with the barrel for Sears to move aside. When he looked at the rest of the riders, Slocum saw that only a few of the enemy looked gun-ready enough to fight him.

  Glenna drove the horses through them and they hurried for the ranch. He left the rifle on safety, and in the exchange with her, he took the reins and she put the gun away, looking back at their dust wake. “They aren’t coming. My, my, you all sure battered them up. I had no idea they would be that broken up.”

  “The plan worked much better than I’d even dreamed. Four of those guys couldn’t use a gun, did you notice?”

  “So you had only two shooters to face?”

  When she squeezed his arm, he leaned over and smiled. “They are not in great shape. We need to close in on them.

  “Back there you looked pretty gutsy to me for you to take a stand with a rifle against six men.”

  “I wanted them to think they weren’t in shape to run things. Next I want to scatter their remuda and make that tough on them.”

  “You did have an upper hand looking at all those bandaged men he had to ride with him.”

  “That’s his foreman?”

  “Yes, that’s Sears. I am surprised the old man wasn’t with them. Garvin’s a tough old buzzard too.”

  “What the hell was Sears looking for out here?” Slocum shook his head. “They might have split up hoping to find the villains who did that to them.”

  She laughed. “Who would tell them anyway?”

  “They felt after our attack caught them off guard, they needed to flex their muscles or lose their hold.”

  “That battered up bunch couldn’t whip much.” She shook her head and squeezed his arm.

  “They still have to keep up their faces, but word will get out that someone outfoxed them and that they are in too poor a condition to enforce much right now.”

  “I hope they all flee.” She leaned against his shoulder, then grinned.

  * * *

  That evening, after midnight, Slocum and Jon installed the dummy on the Garvin ranch crossbar. Jon stood on his saddle to tie it into place. Slocum felt wary the entire time, thinking that being only such a short distance from the ranch headquarters, they might be discovered. He held Jon’s horse to steady him while Jon finished with the knots.

  Finally, Jon dropped down into the saddle and took the reins up in the starlight. “He’s secure. Let’s go.”

  “Right.”

  “I wish I could see their faces when they find him tomorrow.”

  Slocum agreed, then looked back at the dark buildings. Well, Garvin, round two and we will win again.

  On a grassy ridge under a sliver of a moon, they cut the gunnysacks off their horses’ feet. The effort had been to make it harder to follow their tracks. They wadded up the gunnysacks, tied them on their saddles, so they left no evidence, and rode for home.

  “When do we blow up the corrals?” Jon asked.

  “Oh, in another week. By then they will have relaxed again, and will have started asking, ‘What else could they do to us?’”

  “I savvy. Shame we couldn’t watch them discover the dummy.”

  “Ah, better yet for us to see their horses’ butts go over the hill for Texas or some other parts.”

  “I hope to see that too.”

  “Yes.
I’m taking Glenna to Buttercup for supplies today. We better get back so I can sleep a few hours.”

  “I gotta hand it to you. She’s a damn sight easier to live with since you came around,” Jon said and looked off into the night.

  “What was he like?”

  “Her husband was a tough guy. He’d been raised tough somewhere. He had little patience with anyone. He riled me up a time or two. We had a few fistfights, but we got to where we got along. Still, he was like a bulldog around her. He growled a lot and that made me mad, but she said she could defend herself.”

  “You ever see him kiss her?”

  “No, why?”

  “She told me that and I could hardly believe her.”

  Jon shook his head. “You never knew Russell.”

  “I think I do now.”

  “I felt the same way.” Talking about him was over.

  They got back, put their horses up, and Slocum split with Jon and went into the dark house. Inside, she must have heard him, and she lit a lamp in the bedroom.

  He stood in the doorway and admired her in the light and her nightgown. She fussed with her hair, coming across the room. His arms around her, he hugged and kissed her hard, and she sighed, “Whew.”

  “The dummy’s been hung.”

  She pressed her belly harder to him. “Sounds wonderful.”

  He agreed and kissed her again.

  As if he had never kissed her—

  11

  Slocum hitched the team after breakfast, and they left for town. The drive was a two-hour trip one way. A few clouds were gathering, and they could sure use the rain. Things were dry for springtime. They’d planted her potatoes, cabbage, and carrots. Glenna wanted different seed for later plantings, flour, baking powder, sugar . . . her list went on.

  They were making good time when he spotted the dust coming from the west. Someone was coming or several someones were coming toward the main road. They’d soon meet them.

  “Horses and riders,” she said and reached for the Winchester.

  He agreed, keeping an eye on them as they drew up in the road. A shift of wind exposed them. It was Sears, three men, and an older man on a big black stud horse.

  When he reined up, Sears booted his horse over toward them. “Well, rifleman, we meet again. He your new husband, Glenna?”

  “Wouldn’t be none of your business anyway,” she said, scowling at him.

  “What are you up to, Sears?” Slocum asked him. “You sure aren’t working cattle, are you? Scaring more homesteaders away?”

  “You better mind your own business, stranger. You might get a bullet between your eyes.”

  “Draw then. This .44/40 might improve your manners.”

  “Just who the hell are you?” Garvin demanded and started his horse toward them.

  “Stay there, mister. I think Sears wants to toss in his chips here.” His hand used the rifle barrel to direct Garvin to back up.

  “Shoot him,” Garvin said.

  Sears took a hard look at Slocum, shook his head, and turned his horse away. “Shoot him yourself. That sumbitch will kill you.”

  Slocum’s attention shifted, and the rifle centered on the older man. “It’s a good day to die.”

  Garvin shook his head, tried to cover his red-faced anger, and reined his horse back to the others. “My day will come.”

  “Wear a good suit of clothes that day,” Slocum said. “Drive on, Glenna.”

  The sullen riders sat on their horses as the old man, with his hands on his saddle horn, steamed. Two of the men still had their arms in slings.

  Slocum stood up, his legs braced, as she swept the rig around them, and he held the Winchester ready to answer to anyone who wanted to be shot. They soon were away from Garvin and his men, and he put the rifle on safety.

  “I’m sorry they are so hard to live with.”

  “Not your fault.” She reined the team down to a trot. “I’m just proud you were along. Saved me killing two or three of them myself.”

  He took the reins back and laughed. “Yes. You might have done that.”

  They shopped in town, loaded the buckboard with their supplies, ate lunch in the small café, and then she went to see about buying a church dress at the seamstress shop while he bought some leather for saddle repairs.

  “You’re new here, ain’tcha?” the saddle-maker asked him.

  “Yes. I’m helping Mrs. Russell and Jon out at their place.”

  “Nice lady. My name’s Earl Stokes. Give her my regards. Guess you heard about the big blowup the Double G Bar bunch had here last Saturday night?”

  Slocum shook his head.

  “Well that bunch is rowdy and bossy as hell. They all came in to drink and take over the saloon. But when they came out about midnight, someone had tied tin cans to their horses’ tails and, they say, cut their cinches. About bought out all my cinches. I have more coming, but it will be a few weeks. They got all busted up and are offering a hundred-dollar reward for whoever did it.”

  “Sounds serious.”

  “Broken arms and legs and busted heads. They sure had hell.”

  “Reckon they’ve got enemies?”

  “Oh, they run roughshod over everyone. Old man wants to run off everyone and have the range to himself. I never caught your name?”

  “Clark,” he said and shook the man’s hand.

  “Staying long?”

  “Long enough.” Slocum picked up the rolled-up hide.

  “Tell them two hello for me.”

  “I will.” He left the shop and put the hide in the loaded buckboard. Glenna soon joined him and asked if he’d met the saddle maker.

  “Nice guy. He told me all about the wreck those boys had Saturday night here.”

  “They told me about it in the dress shop too.” He helped her onto the spring seat, then joined her and untied the reins.

  “Guess they really want the ones who did that to them.”

  “Marie in there said three had already quit over the fracas and others were going to leave when they got healed.”

  “It’s working.” He clucked to the team and then started the drive out of town.

  She agreed with a nod, and when they were beyond prying eyes on the prairie, she hugged his arm and bumped his shoulder with hers. “Anything to get rid of that nuisance makes me happy. I wish you could stay forever, but there is no way I know to permanently hide you.”

  “Right. But for now, I enjoy your company and your generosity toward me.”

  “Hey, my life was pretty dull until you came along.”

  “The saddle maker ever court you?”

  “No. You mean Stokes?”

  “He sounded like you were a favorite of his.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Another day, another time, maybe.”

  “Hey, if I am in the way—”

  “You damn sure are not in the way of anything.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “What do we do next?”

  “Blow up a corral and scatter his horses.”

  “How hard is that?”

  “We have to sneak in when they aren’t looking, use the candle fuse and strap all the blasting sticks to posts, and get set for a big blowup. The horses will panic, and with the corral down, they will run away I hope.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “We might set another at the bunkhouse if we have time to do it.”

  * * *

  Jon and Carter checked on the cattle and at night made cedar shavings. Slocum tested two of the tubes to be certain the fuses ignited. One took an hour and a half, the other one required near two hours, but they both ignited in the end. He knew his plan would work. Next came the final part. Cutting the blasting sticks in two, arming them, and crimping the cord on the
firing tube. They had lots of strong plain cord and cut it in lengths to go around the posts to hold the blasting sticks in place.

  They left their horses in a draw nearly a quarter mile away from the ranch headquarters. Glenna insisted on coming along and holding the horses.

  “No matter what happens, you stay here. Things get hot, you ride like hell for home,” Slocum said.

  “Yes, yes,” she agreed.

  They hung their spurs on their saddle horns. With the stealth of Indians they came up out of the willows and approached the corrals from the backside. The night guard’s whistling to stay awake warned them. He was somewhere near the pens. Slocum told Jon and Carter to stay there and to listen for two owl hoots before they came in. He had managed to get along the fence when some sleeping horses had a kicking fit and distracted the lookout.

  When the man stepped off the fence, after ordering the horses apart, which made little difference, Slocum conked him on the head. He crumpled to the ground. Slocum hooted twice and then quickly gagged the guard with his kerchief. By then Jon and Carter were there and they tied the man up.

  “What do we do with him?” Jon whispered.

  “Leave him for now, but we will take him with us if we have to.” They nodded and set to work.

  Things went swiftly, and soon the entire setup was in place and ready. Carter even got one tube set up underneath the bunkhouse.

  The man was still groggy, so Jon and Carter carried him along blindfolded. Slocum carried the man’s rifle. On the way he whispered in Jon’s ear not to talk and to warn Glenna as well. Carter heard and agreed with a nod in the starlight.

  “Who—” she started, but Jon silenced her.

  The man was moaning. Slocum whispered in his ear to shut up or he’d cut his throat. That silenced him. They carried him south along the creek that fed Garvin’s ranch from north to south. Then they left him barefooted, tied to a tree, blinded and gagged.

  “One word from you about who we are and you are a dead goose. Savvy?” Slocum asked.

  The man, obviously shaken, nodded.

  They rode off for home, on a roundabout course, leaving fewer hoofprints by riding down the creek rather than in the grass. Near two o’clock they were home and put up their horses. After all that, they couldn’t wait to hear what destruction they’d done. It began to rain a few hours later, which, Slocum realized while in bed with her, was the best trail washing he could have planned on. Hugging her from behind, he went back to sleep.