Slocum 421

by Jake Logan

  “You boys will be paid well. No deducts. You get foreman wages too.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Jim Caltron is pleased too.”

  “Man, it will be good to see Texas.”

  Slocum nodded.

  * * *

  The next two days the rest of the cattle were weighed and the matter settled. Two thousand, four hundred and twenty steers. They averaged a weight 860 pounds each and a value of $154.80 apiece. Over three hundred sixty five thousand in total. He would pay the cowboys six hundred dollars apiece. Rufus, Dan, and Slocum were going to receive twelve hundred apiece and that same amount was to be held to pay for the cost of going-home supplies.

  He brought both Dan and Rufus to the bank for the settlement, and money was put into an envelope for each of the men. The Wells Fargo man assured Slocum that the remaining money would be transferred to Jim Caltron’s account in San Antonio. He also gave him a receipt for what the bank was mailing to Caltron.

  Slocum shook everyone’s hand, thanked Alexander, then the three rode back to camp. The boys said they didn’t need to stay there any longer, and they started to load up so that they could head for Wyoming first thing the next morning. Two of the punchers left them and went their own way.

  * * *

  On the trail the next morning. there followed good days tending to the and wrangling the horses. As they neared Fort Laramie, Slocum shook everyone’s hand and left them for his lone ride to Glenna’s place. When he rode up, she came out of the house blinking her eyes and using the side of her hand to shade the glare. “Is that you?”

  “It ain’t his brother, darling.”

  “Oh my, I never thought I’d see you alive again.” She was in his arms crying and hugging him. They were soon kissing and trying to smother each other.

  “Where have you been?”

  “Montana. Took a herd up there and sold them. Highest-priced cattle I ever sold in my life.”

  “How much did you get for them?”

  He whirled her around. “Eighteen cents a pound.”

  She whistled through her front teeth. “Gee that is high. Put me down. I’ll make us some coffee.”

  He looked around. “You expecting anyone?”

  “No. Oh yes, we can drink coffee later, can’t we?”

  He hugged her again. “Much later.”

  15

  They were at the table eating supper, Jon, Glenna, and Slocum, enjoying her meal. Carter wasn’t there.

  “She told you Carter and Helen are getting married?” Jon said and passed him the green beans.

  “Yes and good.”

  “They are very happy,” Glenna said.

  “He is delighted, and now I’m looking for a new ranch hand.” Jon shrugged. “He’ll be hard to replace. You ever cut Sears’s trail again?”

  “I think he shot out a store window in Montana trying to kill me.”

  “Glad he missed,” Glenna said and put her hand on top of his.

  “So was I, but I had no idea it was him. Those cowboys who worked for me found him, and when it was over, all they said was—he won’t bother me ever again.”

  “Did they kill him?” she asked.

  “I suppose so. They were furious, and I was busy selling cattle, so they handled it. Has Garvin come back yet?”

  “Not that we know about. But I’d expect him anytime if he went to Texas like he said he was going to do.”

  “It will pay to keep an ear out for him. He’ll want revenge, and he’s the kind that will exact it.”

  “You going to hang around?” Jon asked.

  “Not for long. I can stay a couple of weeks.”

  Glenna smiled, pleased. “Good. There, Jon, you have some help.”

  “Maybe I can hire someone by then. Cowboys are hard to find. Carter could rope either end of a critter. Some of these guys who come looking for work can’t even use a lariat.”

  Slocum nodded.

  * * *

  The next day he set out with Jon to check cattle. They found a longhorn cow in a bog. Jon went to shaking his head at the sight of the muddy cow who had wallowed around until she was totally mud-coated and mad, belly-deep in the bog. He dismounted and began to undress. “You get the job on land. I’ll push on her.”

  “Fine, but remember when she comes out, she’ll be madder than a hornet and blame us.” Slocum laughed, shaking loose his lariat. They were in for lots of trouble with an angry cow and plenty of mud.

  Jon waded in when Slocum had her caught by the horns. His ranch horse was ready to drag her out, but there was more than that to do. With her belly-deep in the mud, it was holding her too. The first pull, with Jon twisting her tail and getting more sloppy mud on himself, didn’t budge her. Slocum got Jon’s horse and tossed another rope on the noisy, bawling, protesting cow. He then led the horse along with his own and they both strained, pulling hard.

  “Go! She’s coming!” Jon shouted. The rope pressed hard on Slocum’s right leg as both horses strained until the cow came loose and the horses pulled her sliding on her side through the mud. When she was clear, Slocum undid the rope from Jon’s saddle and let go of his dally. The cow was on her feet and ready to charge them.

  She slipped and fell down on her side, which gave Slocum a head start. He and his mount were off in a hard lope, and mama cow, hoarsely bawling, was up and after him like a Mexican fighting bull. He put spurs to the horse and felt like he was really leaving the country if she didn’t let up. And it looked to Slocum like she’d wear both ropes till she wore them out.

  Finally she gave up and ran off, and Slocum went back to get Jon.

  When he found him, Jon had already caught his horse and, in his mud-caked underwear, was mounting up.

  “Get my clothes and gun, I’m going home for a bath.”

  “And some new ropes.” Slocum laughed at the sight of him. “You look like a chocolate candy.” He gathered Jon’s things, and they rode back.

  At the ranch it was all Glenna could do not to laugh about her brother’s condition. “Were you making mud pies?”

  While Jon was bathing, a rider came by the place.

  “Joel Wynn, this is John Clark,” Glenna said to introduce them. “What brings you over here, Joel?”

  “Nice to meet you. I just got word. Garvin is back with six hard cases from Texas.”

  “That’s bad news,” Slocum said. “Worse than a cow in a bog. How did you hear about it?”

  “Rediford Moore was in town when they arrived on the train yesterday. Said the old man rented a wagon to haul them out to his place yesterday afternoon, and they were all hard cases.”

  “Any names for them?”

  “No, he just saw them arrive then go by wagon to Garvin’s ranch.”

  “We sure thank you for coming by,” Glenna said. “Keep us informed. It don’t sound good.”

  Wynn agreed. “Tell Jon for me. I’ll get on.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You timed it right,” she said. “Here we go again.”

  Slocum closed his eyes. That old sumbitch didn’t listen.

  * * *

  Meetings were called for folks to gather at the schoolhouse, and protection groups were formed. One man had spoken to the sheriff, who said his hands were tied until they broke the law. Everyone waited for something to happen. Slocum made a few trips west and scoped out the operation at Garvin’s. The men were trying to round up his ranch horses and not having lots of success. But in time they’d have something to ride, he decided, slipping back from his lookout point and going to his horse.

  Saturday night, he and Jon checked out the saloons in town. They found a few gunmen here and there, drinking beer, which meant, Slocum figured, they didn’t have money for whiskey. They were tight-lipped and stayed together in the places they landed.

  Slocum picked
out two of the younger ones, and when they started to leave, he stopped them.

  “You boys work for Garvin?”

  “Yeah, what business is it to you?”

  “That old man tell you about his last men?”

  “No, what happened to them?” the cocky one asked.

  “Most of them caught freights out of here to save their asses. Folks up here don’t take to strong-arm tactics. When you start, there will be repercussions.”

  “What the hell is that?” he asked his buddy.

  “Means they will get back at us,” his buddy said.

  “Yeah, we’ll have our own,” the first one told Slocum.

  Slocum looked off into the night and the dark street. “Take my word, you’ve been warned.”

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “A man who hates to see folks killed.”

  In the saddle the kid jerked his horse around.

  “Hey,” Slocum said, “ask the old man where his last hands went.”

  “Fuck you, mister.”

  Slocum shook his head. “You’ve been warned.”

  The two young men rode off grumbling to each other.

  “You warned them,” Jon said, joining him.

  “I just want to cut them off before they start hurting anyone.”

  “Maybe they came to be cowboys.”

  Slocum shook his head. “Garvin expects revenge.”

  “They won’t be easy to run off.”

  Slocum stepped in the saddle and turned his horse. “We will see what we can do about encouraging them to leave.”

  “When will they make a move?”

  “That is what I wonder.” Slocum booted his horse into a trot, and they headed back to the ranch.

  * * *

  It was in Slocum’s mind that they’d first start strong-arming the weakest—old folks, widows, and anyone who would be afraid. Garvin knew them and he’d start there.

  All he and Jon could do was be aware and shut it down when it started.

  They rode over to Carter and Helen’s place. The two newlyweds looked very happy, and Helen hugged both of their visitors.

  “What brings you two over here?” Carter asked, inviting them in for coffee.

  “Slocum thinks that Garvin will start on the weakest and not realize you two are married. He has ten or twelve new hands. We spoke to two Saturday night in town. They are pretty cocksure. We don’t want either of you hurt.”

  “Is Sears with them?” Helen asked.

  Slocum shook his head. “To the best of my knowledge, Sears isn’t on this earth anymore. He apparently tried to ambush me up in Montana, and the cowboys working for me got so mad they sent him to the happy hunting grounds.”

  “Good riddance,” Carter said and hugged his wife.

  “Just be careful,” Jon said. “We don’t know what they will do first, but he didn’t hire them to simply ride herd.”

  “What are they doing now?”

  “Looking all over hell for that remuda of his that we cut loose four months ago.”

  Slocum shook his head. “Those two rode some old horses into town last Saturday night. Their muzzles were snow-white.”

  They all laughed. “Why, those horses are scattered from here to hell by now,” Carter said.

  “Just be careful. We’ll come on a moment’s notice.”

  After coffee they hugged Helen and shook Carter’s hand. Then they started home. No cows were bogged down that day in the wetlands.

  “There ain’t any way you could stay around here for a long while is there?” Jon asked as they rode.

  “How is that?”

  “You and my sister get along good. I ain’t making light about that. But you and I fit like a glove and think a lot alike. We don’t make lots of money running cows, but we do make some. You act kind a relaxed while you’re here. I was thinking you might stay . . .”

  “Love to, except some bounty hunter would figure out my disguise and come a-hunting me.”

  “Damn shame. I really enjoy having you.”

  They reined up when they saw a fire in the distance. Looked like a branding fire. They rode up on the ridge and got out their field glasses. Three men had a calf tied down bawling and were putting the iron to him.

  “That damn sure ain’t their calf,” Jon said. “That roan cow is one of ours. I’d know her anywhere.”

  They put the glasses away, jerked rifles out of their scabbards, and set their horses downhill to stop the thieves. Half the distance away from them, the rustlers began to shoot at them with their pistols, but the range was too far for pistols. Slocum and Jon spurred their horses as the rustlers tried to get mounted on their gun-spooked horses.

  One rider was thrown over his horse’s head, hard onto the ground. With a rifle shot Slocum wounded another as he tried to get away. The third one lost his struggle with his horse and the pony ran off before he could even get on it.

  Slocum had no doubt these were Garvin’s men. He had Jon take care of the two at hand and rode out to get the wounded man still on his horse, who had stopped. He was bent over in the saddle, not moving.

  As he approached him, Slocum shoved the rifle in under his leg and drew his pistol. Cocked and ready, he rode in close and jerked the man’s gun out of his holster. When he did, the man finally made an attempt to swing at him. Slocum turned his horse around and in a swift move busted the outlaw on the head, caved in his hat, and sent him facedown onto the ground.

  “You should never have tried that, stupid.” Then he recognized him as one of the ones he had spoken to on the saloon porch. “I told you not to stay.”

  16

  Long past dark Jon and Slocum rode into the ranch and dropped heavy from the saddle. Glenna brought a candle lamp. “Where in the hell have you two been?”

  “It’s a long story,” Slocum said, undoing his latigos.

  “But we got a damn good alibi.” Jon hoisted his saddle and pads off his horse.

  “What’s the alibi?”

  “We caught three of Garvin’s men putting his brand on ole Roan’s calf in broad daylight.”

  “You what?” She frowned at Slocum.

  “Let’s see . . . one has a broken arm. He got thrown off his horse. One I shot trying to get away and he also has a bad headache from trying to fight me. Third one I guess got off unscathed, but they are all in the county jail. Sheriff is riding out and threatening Garvin with arrest ’cause he considers him a party to the rustling. It will send the rest packing.”

  “Helen and Carter said to tell you hello,” Jon added.

  “They happy?”

  “They act that way, don’t they, Slocum?”

  “Happy as two peas in a pod.” They laughed.

  “Well, tell me, how did you find the rustlers?”

  “We saw a fire far off and rode over the hill.”

  Glenna shook her head as they headed for the house. “You think it is over? Are we safe now?”

  “Do I think that old man will give up? No. But he won’t get any help out of his new hired thugs after today. The sheriff is upset enough to threaten him over the rustling because it was with his brand they were using.”

  “I have food still warm. I was expecting you long ago.”

  “We’ll wash up and be there.” They put their horses in the corral to roll in the dust, even as tired as they were. It had been a long day. Slocum’s lower back told him so as well.

  After the meal, Jon told them good night and went off to the bunkhouse. When he was gone, she came over and sat in his lap.

  “You must be dead tired.”

  He kissed her. “I am.”

  “The sheriff still thinks you’re Clark?”

  “I think so. He was impressed that we apprehended those boys. He knew they were gunhands, not ranch hands.”

/>   “Can you stay for a while?”

  “I think so.”

  “Good. Let’s go to bed. You need some rest. I can curl around you and hold you tonight.”

  “Good deal.”

  “You know I’ll miss you again when you leave. Like I did last time you rode off.”

  “You won’t be alone. Let’s try to sleep.”

  * * *

  The next day word was out. Ranchers were coming by wondering what it would take to get rid of Garvin.

  They were his employees and using his brand—that was the case they all presented.

  “We all need to ride over there with a lynch party and tell him he’s got two days to vacate.”

  Slocum and Jon were resetting shoes on some horses. They listened and agreed that something needed to be done. Soon the tone of things went for them to meet the next Thursday morning at the Garvin ranch. Every able man in the county was to ride up and deliver their ultimatum. He and Jon agreed to be there.

  At lunch, Glenna asked him what they were going to do.

  “Go over there next Thursday and tell him to leave.”

  “What if he won’t go?”

  Jon said. “They’re only giving him two days.”

  “What then?”

  “I imagine they will go back and burn him out.”

  Slocum agreed. “Whatever it will be, it will be final if he doesn’t leave.”

  “Why didn’t we do this a year ago?”

  “Hoped it wouldn’t be necessary, I guess.”

  “I’ll be so glad to have this over.”

  “You won’t wait long.”

  “Good,” she said, sounding definite and putting the pot back on the stovetop.

  * * *

  Wednesday evening, early, two men rode into the Russell ranch to meet the “committee.” By Thursday morning, men were coming from three directions, before the sun even peeped up. Rifle-armed men accompanied by the clopping of hooves, the creaking of saddle leather, and the jingle of spurs, plus a few dry coughs in the predawn. They made a circle of riders surrounding Garvin’s ranch headquarters, stirrup to stirrup, in the pink first light.

  On signal two shots were fired and a man with big deep voice said, “Don’t shoot. We have you surrounded. Garvin, you and all your hands get out here. Come out unarmed or die.”