Bullets Don't Argue

by William W. Johnstone

  “Yes, sir,” Rance said, pleased to hear Slocum wasn’t going to risk more men and waste more time on his pursuit of the baby. “We’ve only got the woman’s word that it really is Dan’s baby.”

  “There’s that possibility,” Slocum allowed, “but it won’t take long for me to tell if there’s Slocum blood in his veins or not. And I aim to find out when you and the men get back from Dodge.”

  “We goin’ down to Mexico to look for ’em?” Rance asked.

  “Hell, no,” Slocum came back quickly. “They ain’t on their way to Mexico. That was just that old man tryin’ to throw us off the scent. They’ll likely light somewhere between here and the Colorado River, but if they’re in Texas, I’ll find ’em.”

  “Whatever you say, Boss. We’ll find ’em. That baby will still be too young to know where he belongs, anyway. By then, that woman might be ready to accept the chance to live a better life on the Lazy-S.” Satisfied that his boss was doing the sensible thing now, he said, “I reckon I’d better see if Ace is doin’ all right with his shoulder.”

  “That’s somethin’ else I’m thinkin’ about,” Slocum said. “We can take care of him back there where we waited for Tate to find their camp.” When Rance seemed surprised, he said, “No sense in us ridin’ half the night to get back to the ranch. We brought supplies with us. We might as well bed down there and ride home in the mornin’. Then I’ll decide whether or not I’m gonna fire that hothead when we get back to the ranch—goin’ off half-cocked like that.”

  * * *

  Back at the stream, there was great concern for their safety and hasty preparations were being made to defend against an attack surely to come. As soon as Perley walked back to the wagons, he was met by Rachael and Tom. “Where are my girls?” Rachael asked, approaching a panic.

  “They’re all right,” Perley assured them. “We were on our way back when your visitors showed up, so I found a little gully next to the stream and told ’em to wait there till I came back. I’m fixin’ to go after ’em right now.”

  Possum stopped him on his way back. “I’m thinkin’ we’d best get set up for another visit tonight. Whaddaya think?” When Perley said that he agreed, Possum asked, “You think we oughta grab our blankets and get away from the wagons, like we did when Cantrell and his boys came after us?”

  “That might be a good idea,” Perley allowed. “As soon as I get Alice and Melva, I think I’ll saddle Buck and go see if I can trail ol’ Slocum and his men, maybe get an idea what he intends to do. He didn’t sound to me like the kind to give up that easy. So I’ll go get the girls, and it wouldn’t be a bad idea for everybody to find some cover, in case they do come right back at us.”

  “I wish to hell they’da waited till after we’d et,” Possum said.

  “Me, too,” Perley said as he started back down the stream. “My belly was already thinkin’ about those biscuits.”

  He hurried along in the dark, dodging bushes and low-hanging tree limbs, hoping he remembered where that little gully was. When he found what he was sure was the right one, it was empty. A moment of panic threatened him when it occurred to him that if Slocum somehow knew the girls were hiding here, what would be better than to take them and force a trade—the two little girls in exchange for the baby? “Are the bad men gone?” Alice asked from behind him, causing him to jump in reaction.

  “You like to gave me a heart attack!” Perley exclaimed. “Yes, the bad men have gone for now, but I don’t know for how long. I need to get you back somewhere safe till I find out if they are or not. I was thinkin’ there was two pesky little girls when I came down here. I reckon I remembered wrong.”

  Alice laughed. “Melva came with us, she went to hide by that pile of wood you were carryin’ back to the fire.”

  “Why didn’t you wait in the gully?” Perley asked.

  “Melva had to pee, so I made her get out,” she answered.

  “Makes sense. Come on, let’s get Melva and the wood and get back to camp.”

  * * *

  Out of the heavy shadows of the tree-lined stream, he steered Buck back along the same track the two wagons had taken across the open prairie. He figured it most likely to be the same way Slocum had gone. He held the bay gelding to a steady lope over a treeless expanse of buffalo grass, under a starry moonless sky, while keeping a sharp eye for any riders up ahead of him. After a ride of close to an hour, he came upon what he was looking for, the small glow of a fire lighting the branches of the trees up ahead of him. They had gone into camp, but still to be determined was if it was to rest their horses before returning to attack the wagons. Or had they given up on the idea of taking Emma and her baby?

  He rode closer to the glow of the fire before turning Buck to intercept a line of trees. Then he dismounted, tied the horse in the trees, and made his way toward the camp. After a walk of about forty yards, he came to a wide place where the bushes were about waist high. He stopped because he could see the camp from there and knelt down with just part of his head above the bush. He could see they were cooking something on the fire, their horses were unsaddled, which looked as if they had stopped for the night. That didn’t make sense because he had been sure they would make another attempt before morning. Unless, he thought, they could overtake the wagons again with no trouble, so they might think it to their advantage to attack them in daylight when they could see that no one could slip in behind them again. That had to be it! So he decided he’d best get back to the others and get them on the way tonight to get as much lead as they could.

  “Is that you, Tate?”

  Caught in a crouch as he was just starting to get on his feet, he froze in that position, his hand dropping to rest on the handle of his .44. Realizing he had been discovered, he carefully eased the Colt out of his holster and answered with a low grunt, “Uh,” not yet sure where the voice had come from.

  “Well, you almost got shit on,” the voice responded. “I’ll go on the other side and find me a bush with them wide leaves. I don’t know about you, but I’m glad Boss decided to go on back to the ranch instead of tryin’ to take that damn baby.”

  “Uh,” Perley grunted again, then heard the branches of the bush he was hiding in as they were brushed aside when the voice passed behind him. Cow pie, Perley thought as he eased away from the bush, and as quietly as he could manage, backed toward the trees where he had left his horse. Just to be sure, he led Buck a couple of dozen yards farther before climbing up into the saddle.

  Behind him some twenty minutes later, Billy Watts walked into the light of the fire, still buckling his belt. Seeing Tate Lester sitting by the fire drinking a cup of coffee, he was moved to comment. “Danged if you ain’t a fast dumper, Tate.”

  “What the hell are you talkin’ about, Billy?” Tate replied, but Billy only laughed in response.

  CHAPTER 10

  When Perley returned to the wagons, he called out to identify himself before riding in and was satisfied to find that everyone was very much on alert, ready to defend themselves if necessary. They were relieved to hear him say they didn’t have to worry about another visit that night, and maybe not ever. Possum wondered how Perley could feel sure about that, so he asked him why he thought so. Perley said he heard it from one of Slocum’s men. Possum kept pressing to find out how that could have been possible without him being caught.

  “How did you get close enough to hear what they was sayin?” Possum asked. He couldn’t help chuckling when Perley finally related his conversation in the bushes.

  “It wasn’t that funny at the time,” Perley said. After they all enjoyed a chuckle of relief at his expense, he saw fit to warn them. “It doesn’t mean that old man won’t change his mind and turn around again. So I suggest we keep a watch tonight, and get an early start in the mornin’.”

  “Amen to that,” Possum said. “We was dang lucky tonight. It coulda gone the wrong way right quick.”

  “I reckon I owe everybody an apology,” Emma spoke up, “puttin’ everybody in
danger because of me and my baby.”

  Quick to defend her, Possum replied, “No such a thing. It ain’t none of your fault that your father-in-law is half crazy.”

  Rachael and Tom quickly joined in her defense. “Possum’s right,” Rachael said. “We’ll find this little town of Bison Gap and build us a house and farm and dare anyone to attack our family.” It was with that spirit that the little two-wagon wagon train set out the next morning, after the three men had taken turns standing watch all night.

  * * *

  It was an uneventful day of travel as the little party held a steady course to the south with Perley taking frequent pauses to keep an eye on their back-trail. His herd of horses soon adapted to the pace of the wagons, and more often than not, plodded along on both sides of the wagons. Before the day was over, Perley occasionally stopped to wait on a hilltop, to watch for awhile, knowing he didn’t have to keep the horses moving. He finally concluded that Slocum meant it when he said he was not coming after them. That was a relief, but it left him with a stronger feeling of urgency to be done with this endeavor and return to his life. Even though he knew the Triple-G cattle would not average the daily mileage of the slow-moving wagons, he was afraid he would not overtake the herd before they made the Kansas border. He and the herd had been going in opposite directions for too many days, and there were still days ahead of him before he could turn around. What the hell? He thought. They can sure get on without me, and I ain’t any too fond of driving cattle, anyway.

  The next three days were much like the first one since leaving the confrontation with Zachary Slocum and his men. The little party followed Possum’s sense of direction over land that didn’t look prime for farming. It was mostly mile after mile with low rolling hills thick with scrub and small trees. “That mule skinner musta been drunk when he told you that folks was claimin’ land down here to farm,” Possum said to Tom when he poured himself a cup of coffee. He sat down beside him by the campfire. “We ain’t seen any land that looks like it’s waitin’ for the plow.”

  “I reckon I can’t argue with that,” Tom allowed, unable to mask his discouragement. He was about to say more but was interrupted by a call from the darkness near the edge of the trees.

  “Hello the camp! Mind if I come in?” Caught by surprise, everybody scrambled for cover behind a wagon. The voice called out again. “Ain’t no use for alarm. I’m peaceful and there ain’t nobody with me.”

  “Well, if you’re peaceful, come on in,” Possum yelled back. “I reckon if you ain’t, you’d be shootin’ ’stead of hollerin’.” To prove he trusted his word, Possum went back by the fire to await their guest. A touch more cautious, Tom and Perley walked back around the other end of the wagon beyond the reach of the light from the fire. With guns ready to use, they watched a solitary little man walk into the camp, leading a severely hobbled saddle horse, with a packhorse plodding along behind. Perley slipped off into the darkness to see if he really was alone.

  “Evenin’, folks, my name’s Rooster Crabb, and I surely appreciate you invitin’ me in.” He was plainly in need of help from someone.

  Possum sized him up pretty quickly. “I don’t suppose you’d say no to a cup of coffee and a biscuit.”

  “No, sir, I surely wouldn’t, and I’d thank you kindly for the offer,” Rooster said.

  Perley walked back into the firelight. “He’s right, there ain’t no one but him.”

  “You do well to check, young feller,” Rooster said. “It don’t never hurt to give everybody a good lookin’-over around here. I took a good look at your camp before I hollered. I was glad to see women and children.”

  Possum turned to see Emma come out from behind the wagon with a coffee cup and go to the pot to fill it. When she handed it to their guest, she said, “You’re lucky there’s a biscuit or two left.”

  “Thank you kindly, ma’am,” the odd little man said and immediately took a gulp of the hot liquid.

  “You look like you had a little bad luck,” Perley said, looking at the crippled horse.

  “That’s a fact,” Rooster said. “My poor ol’ horse went lame about ten miles back, near as I can figure. I had to get off and walk, else I’da had to put her down. She stepped in a hole or somethin’, I couldn’t see that good, but I heard the bone crack when she did it. I come off over her head and landed on my back.”

  Perley gently lifted the horse’s crippled leg. “She’s got a clean break,” he said. “the bone’s stickin’ out. She’s in some real pain. You thinkin’ about puttin’ her down?”

  “I thought about it, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it,” he said. “I’ve had that horse a long time. I got my pistol out and held it to her head and she looked me in the eye. She knowed what I was fixin’ to do, and I just couldn’t pull the trigger, so I started walkin’. I hope she’ll make it on three legs, then I’d keep her like one of my hounds.”

  Possum exchanged glances with Perley, both thinking the same thing. Possum expressed the thought. “Ain’t none of my business, it’s your horse, but if she was mine, I’d put that horse outta her misery.” He glanced at Tom then and Tom nodded his agreement. Rooster didn’t say anything. He took the biscuit Emma handed him and looked up at her, his sorrowful eyes searching for understanding.

  “I think that horse wants you to put it outta its misery,” she spoke softly.

  “You think so, ma’am?”

  “I do.”

  “Then I reckon I ain’t really doin’ her no good, makin’ her hobble like that on three legs,” he gave in. “I just hate to do it.” He seemed to be explaining himself to the two little girls who were quietly watching him.

  “You want one of us to do it?” Possum asked.

  “I’d appreciate it, but I don’t wanna see you do it,” the simple man replied.

  “All right,” Possum assured him. “It’ll be quick and painless, and she’ll be a whole lot better off.” Tom pulled Rooster’s ragged saddle off the horse and led it away from the camp. A few minutes passed before they heard the shot. Rooster flinched when he heard it. Possum tried to get his mind off his loss right away. “Where are you headin’ in the middle of the night, Rooster?”

  “Bison Gap,” Rooster answered. “I’ve got a little cabin on Oak Creek, right outside of town.” That got everybody’s attention right away.

  “How far is that from here?” Perley was the first to ask.

  “’Bout five miles,” Rooster said and held his cup up when Rachael approached with the coffeepot.

  “That’s where we’re goin’,” Emma exclaimed. “We were hopin’ we’d get there tomorrow.”

  “Well, I reckon you made it then,” Rooster said, “but it’ll be a lot easier on them wagons if you don’t cross the creek right here. The road into Bison Gap ain’t but about two miles from here,” he pointed toward the west, “and there’s a bridge across it there.”

  “Right,” Possum spoke up. “I was plannin’ on cuttin’ over that way to catch that road in the mornin’.” He shrugged innocently when Emma cast an accusing eye in his direction. Returning his attention to Rooster, he said, “I reckon this was your lucky day when you ran into us. You lost your ridin’ horse, but we’re drivin’ a herd of horses and five fine saddles you can pick from.”

  Rooster shook his head sadly. “Ah, mister, I ain’t got no money to buy a horse. When I get back to my cabin, I reckon I’ll just have to unload my packhorse and throw my saddle on him.”

  “Is that so?” Possum replied. “I never said nothin’ about sellin’ you a horse and saddle. Are you too proud to accept a gift from your new friends?” It was after the fact, but he looked at Perley then to see his reaction. Perley might consider the horses his property, since it was he who was responsible for attaining them. It seemed natural to Possum to assume the horses were simply the property of the whole party, thinking they were all in this endeavor together. Perley set his mind at ease when he acknowledged Possum’s unspoken question with a positive nod.

 
; Rooster, having been silenced by the unexpected offer, finally recovered his voice. Looking totally confused, he glanced from one stranger’s face to the next, halfway anticipating them to bust out laughing at his gullibility. All he saw were smiling faces. “Why, no,” he finally spoke. “I shore ain’t too proud.” Still a little suspicious of the offer, he asked, “Whadda I have to do to get the horse?”

  “Well, that’s the hard part,” Possum replied. “I’ll show you which horses you can pick from. Then you’re gonna have to look ’em over and decide which one you want.”

  “Which one I want?” Rooster echoed, now beginning to suspect he was being japed for sure.

  Seeing the little man’s befuddlement, and thinking Possum was enjoying his confusion a little too much, Perley stepped in. “You don’t have to do anything, Rooster. We happened to come by a bunch of extra horses and you happen to need one at the same time. So it doesn’t cost us to let you throw a saddle on one of them, so you don’t have to walk home.”

  “Right,” Rooster said, thinking he finally understood. “Then I give the horse back to you when we get to Bison Gap.”

  “No,” Perley said. “The horse is yours.”

  “The horse is mine.” Rooster repeated, still suspicious. His eyes darting from one face to the next, waiting for the catch.

  Finally weary of the odd little man’s suspicions, Rachael blurted out. “For goodness’ sakes, Rooster, we’re givin’ you a horse. Just say thank you and take the darn horse.”

  At last convinced, the worried look on his face melted to form one of absolute gratitude as he exclaimed, “Thank you, ma’am!”

  His exuberance caused her to laugh. “If you really think you should do something in return, why don’t you camp here with us tonight? Then you can lead us in to Bison Gap in the mornin’, keep us from followin’ Possum all the way to the Rio Grande, lookin’ for it. You can have a little breakfast with us and you’ll be able to see a little better what kinda horse you’re pickin’ out.”