Bullets Don't Argue

by William W. Johnstone

  It seemed almost too much for Rooster to handle, such a kind act in a brutal territory. He had to ask, “Who are you folks? You ain’t a bunch of angels, are you?”

  “Ha!” Emma responded loudly. “Some angels! We ain’t even told you our names.” She then introduced him to each one by name, ending with, “And this young man’s name is Perley Gates.”

  “I knowed it!” Rooster exclaimed. “I knowed there was an angel in here somewhere.” His remark prompted Perley to once again go through the origin of his name. When he had finished, Rooster responded with a simple, “If you say so,” still not convinced.

  * * *

  The gift of a horse turned out to be well worth the information they gained about the situation in Bison Gap. Rooster had been there since the first store was built by a man named Ralph Wheeler, whose father, Randolph Wheeler, had a trading post there back when the buffalo were still running through the natural pass between the hilly ranges. Rooster said Oak Creek was a favorite buffalo watering hole back then. “The buffalo were long gone when I built my place,” he said. “But Ralph Wheeler built his store right next to the ashes of his papa’s tradin’ post. The Injuns had burnt it down. Now, there ain’t no buffalo here. There ain’t no Injuns, neither, but there’s a lot more that is there. They’ve divided up the town in lots, and the land outside town in sections after the railroad ran a line through there. We’ve got a post office and a sheriff, a saloon, a blacksmith, and Wheeler, he’s the mayor, is tryin’ to get somebody to build a hotel.”

  He had the rapt attention of everyone, especially Emma and Possum, who had over twenty-two thousand dollars between them, and were looking for the best use for it. They talked late into the night, the women too excited to see the place they had chosen for their futures to think about sleep. Perley was the only member of the party who was not too excited to sleep, so they lost him to his blanket long before midnight. When the first light of morning crept through the leaves of the trees by the creek, he woke up to feel something warm pressing against his back. It turned out to be four-year-old Melva, so he climbed out of his blanket very carefully and folded it back to cover the sleeping child. He found that he was the only one up, and he was in the process of reviving the fire when Possum staggered out from under the wagon. “You ain’t lookin’ too bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this mornin’,” Perley greeted him.

  “I’ll be all right as soon as we get some coffee goin’,” Possum responded. “That little feller sure seems to know everythin’ about Bison Gap you’d wanna know, and a few things you don’t.”

  As if having heard his name, Rooster Crabb came out from behind the other end of the wagon where he had spread his bedroll. “Mornin,” he greeted them cheerfully. “How are you fellers this mornin’?”

  The look on his face made Perley think their guest was wondering if the gracious promises of the night just passed might have faded away with the birth of the new day. To set his mind at ease, he said, “Mornin’. We’ll get us a pot of coffee workin’, and after we’ve had a cup or two, whaddaya say we go take a look at those horses?” As he suspected, Rooster perked up right away.

  While they waited for the women to fix breakfast, Possum and Perley watched Rooster trying out several different horses. They offered to help put all five of their extra saddles on the horses, but Rooster wanted to do that himself. “I wanna make sure the one I pick don’t have nothin’ against me. I ain’t wantin’ to fight him every time I try to saddle him.”

  That was fine by Perley and Possum, so they watched while he hopped about like a kid in a candy store. While they watched, they talked about the evening just past. “Did Rooster say there was any decent land for farmin’ near that town?” Perley asked.

  “Yep, he said there was,” Possum replied, “but there was more talk about the town than any farmland near town.” When Perley said he thought Tom and the women wanted a place to farm, Possum said, “So did I, but I swear, they asked more questions about the hotel this feller, Wheeler, wants somebody to build. Especially Emma, she’s the one with the cash, but she got Rachael to thinkin’ about maybe the two of ’em runnin’ a hotel. I told ’em they was crazy, two women tryin’ to run a hotel in this wild country. Emma said it wouldn’t hurt to talk to Wheeler and see why he’s so interested in havin’ one. I swear, Perley, I think they’re seriously thinkin’ about it.”

  Perley shrugged, amused by Possum’s obvious concern about it. “Are they tryin’ to get you interested in it, too?”

  “Well, they was kinda actin’ like it, but hell, I don’t know nothin’ about runnin’ a hotel.”

  Perley laughed. “I reckon nobody knows much about doin’ anything until they try their hand at it. You might be just what that town needs.”

  “I’ll be damned,” Possum snorted, causing Perley to chuckle again.

  Perley quit joking for a moment and asked, “Has Emma got enough money to do something like that?”

  Possum nodded and said, “She’s got enough to get somethin’ built. What she’s workin’ on, I think, is to get Tom and Rachael to help her run it.” He paused to reflect on the prospect. “If I was to throw in with her, we could build a damn nice place.”

  “I swear,” Perley blurted. “What did you two do, rob a bank?”

  “No, we didn’t rob no bank,” Possum came back right away. “We didn’t do nothin’, we was just lucky.” Perley stopped him right there, in case he was going to confess how they came by their money. As he told them before, he didn’t want to know. The conversation ended then when Rachael called for them to come to breakfast.

  Having heard the call to breakfast, too, Rooster rode up on one of the black horses that one of Raymond Butcher’s deacons had ridden. “I like this’un best,” he said. “All right if I keep him?”

  “Yeah, you look good on him,” Possum said. “Let’s go eat, so we can go see this town of yours.”

  “Just wait till I ride back and tie this handsome devil at the hitchin’ rail in front of The Buffalo Hump,” Rooster almost giggled with delight. When Perley asked what The Buffalo Hump was, Rooster said, “It’s the saloon. They used to make fun of my old horse, just because she was old.” One thing Perley was sure of about this whole ill-fated journey, it had made one little fellow extremely happy.

  “Well, you picked out a good one there,” Perley said. “They’ll have a hard time findin’ something wrong with him.”

  Although most every member of the party was looking forward to seeing the town of Bison Gap, no one was in a particular hurry on this morning. With Rooster to show them the way and only five or six miles to go, it seemed a relief not to be in a hurry to get rolling. Since they knew they were near a store where they could replace their supplies, the women didn’t try to ration the bacon and grits. While they were eating, Emma thought to ask Perley a question. “Looks like you saw us through this journey all the way to Bison Gap. It seems like a month ago when me and Possum met you and your brothers at the crossing on the Red River. You think you might wanna stick around a while now? We’ve been through a lot together. There might be somethin’ in Bison Gap that would catch your interest.” She didn’t say everything she was thinking, and it had only entered her mind since the constant danger of being overtaken had ended. But of late, she could not help thinking that Perley would make a good husband for some lucky woman.

  With no notion of anything like that on her mind, Perley shrugged and replied. “No, I reckon not,” he said. “I thought about just leavin’ you folks this mornin’ and startin’ back to where I’m supposed to be. But I think, since it’s so close, I’ll ride on in to Bison Gap with you just so, if anybody asks me, I can tell ’em I’ve been there. Come to think of it, I forgot I have to drive the horses in for you, then decide what we’re gonna do with ’em. I guess I’d kinda like to see that you fi nd you a spot to get settled in, too. I wanna make sure you’ve got lumber to build a good strong cage to keep Alice and Melva in.” He pretended to try to protect himself when both girls m
ade a big show of trying to hit him.

  When all was packed up, hitched up, and saddled, the two-wagon wagon train started out to strike the road into Bison Gap. Riding proudly beside Emma’s wagon, Rooster rode his new horse and led his packhorse. The dark roan showed a tendency to break away to return to the small herd Perley was driving behind them, but Rooster had a strong hand and soon settled him down. He wasn’t even aware of the circle of buzzards over the creek they had left behind, his only thought being the mental picture of himself riding through town on his new black gelding.

  CHAPTER 11

  The busy little settlement of Bison Gap was growing up on both sides of Oak Creek with the town’s main street running along beside the healthy creek. The first structure when approaching the town from the north was Wheeler’s Merchandise, owned by Ralph Wheeler. At an angle across from Wheeler’s, on the other side of the creek, a small building housed the sheriff ’s office and jail. About thirty yards south of the jail was The Buffalo Hump Saloon. These two were the only businesses on the east side of the creek. Everything else was on the west side where the road was built, running right along beside the railroad tracks. Taking Rooster Crabb’s advice, Perley drove the horses behind the line of buildings beyond Wheeler’s, past the stable at the end of town where there was space to let them graze close to water.

  Possum and Tom pulled their wagons around to the side of Wheeler’s stores and they all followed Rooster inside. Ralph Wheeler looked up in surprise when he saw Rooster walk in. “Rooster,” Wheeler greeted him cheerfully, “is that gang of people chasing you?”

  “These here folks are friends of mine,” Rooster replied proudly. “They’re thinkin’ ’bout lookin’ Bison Gap over. Thinkin’ maybe they might wanna settle here. I told ’em you’re the man they need to talk to.”

  “Is that a fact?” Wheeler replied. He turned to address Possum and Tom. “Well, Rooster is right, I can certainly tell you what’s available. You’re looking for land to farm, I suppose.”

  “I reckon you might say that,” Possum said and Tom nodded his agreement.

  “Well, you’re in luck, there is a lot of acreage that isn’t spoken for, depends on what you’re looking to raise. I noticed somebody just drove some horses behind the store. Was that some of yours?”

  Before Possum could answer, Emma interrupted. “Tell us about that hotel Rooster said you wanted to build. Do you think you’ve got a need for a hotel here?”

  Wheeler paused to give her a condescending smile. “Yes, ma’am, there’s no doubt about that. We’re gonna need a hotel.” He started to get back to the farm acreage, but she interrupted again.

  “If you find somebody with the money to build it, I suppose the town would give ’em the land. Is that right?”

  He hesitated before answering, not sure now that her questions were trivial. “I suppose the town would, ma’am. Do you know someone with the money to invest?”

  “I might at that, dependin’ on whether I can believe a hotel would make it here.”

  Completely confused now, Wheeler looked from Possum to Tom, but saw no inclination on either face to stop the woman’s questions. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “I am,” she answered.

  “Cora! Come up front and meet these people,” he sang out. In a minute or two a small gray-haired woman came from a room in the back, and Wheeler said, “This is my wife, Cora. Cora, say howdy to Mrs. Slocum and Mrs. Parker. They’re thinking about joining our community here.”

  When Perley felt he could leave the horses temporarily without worrying about them, he rode back up the street to Wheeler’s, where his party of pilgrims had pulled their wagons around to the side of the store. When he pulled Buck up to the hitching rail in front, he found the whole party inside, including Rooster. They were already in a lively conversation with Ralph Wheeler, who glanced up when Perley walked in. “He’s with us,” Emma said just as Wheeler was about to apologize for not remembering everybody’s name to this point. He turned toward Tom and Possum, but hesitated, not certain.

  “I’m Tom Parker,” he quickly reminded him. “I’m Rachael’s husband and this is Possum Smith—he’s a friend of Mrs. Slocum’s.”

  Wheeler nodded, thinking that explained who the young man was who just walked in. “So this is Mr. Slocum?”

  “No, sir,” Perley said, “Mrs. Slocum is a widow. My name’s Perley Gates.” He released a tired sigh when he saw the expressions on their faces, expressions he felt he had seen a thousand times before. He hoped he would be spared the necessity to explain.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” Wheeler said.

  “Perley Gates,” he repeated his name slowly. Wheeler nodded politely, as did his wife, but he did not pursue the novelty of it.

  Returning his attention to Possum and Emma, he said, “I’ve got some plat maps on some property available for homesteading I can show you, but I’d like to talk to you some more about the town property set aside for the hotel.”

  The talk went on for quite some time, until Perley began to get impatient and reminded them that they were going to have to set up camp for the night. “You’ve got two wagons and a bunch of extra horses that have to be taken care of. And since the hotel ain’t been built yet, I reckon we’d best find some other place to situate you folks.”

  “You can take ’em out to my place,” Rooster suggested. “My cabin’s kinda small, so there ain’t enough room in it for all of ya, but there’s plenty of land around it and it’s right on Oak Creek. It’d be a good place to set up your camp in my pasture till you decide what you’re gonna do.”

  “That sounds like a good idea to me,” Wheeler said. “Rooster is sitting on one of the best parcels of land in this little valley, forty acres, only one mile from town.” He glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. “Folks here wonder if he’s ever gonna start making it pay off.”

  “I’ll set a plow to it when I’m ready,” Rooster replied. “There’s just some other things I gotta take care of before I’m ready to try my hand at farmin’ again.”

  “Somebody’s gonna come along and buy that whole section one day and put the squeeze on you for that one parcel you’re sitting on,” Wheeler said.

  “They ain’t gonna find it easy to do,” Rooster responded. “I built my cabin on that land before the post office was built and there weren’t no surveyors in this county then.”

  “But doggone it, Rooster, you shoulda filed claim with the county then, instead of just squatting on it. What you need is for somebody to buy that section who might let you stay in your little cabin,” Wheeler suggested, thinking he might give Rooster’s new friends something to consider. “That’s six hundred acres, not counting that forty acres you’re sitting on. Two families, or even one big one, could do a lot on that amount of land.” He turned his attention back to the newcomers then. “As mayor of Bison Gap, let me welcome you folks to the best little town in Texas. I’d be glad to show you land available close in to town. That is, depending on what your plans are.”

  Possum spoke for all of them. “Our plans are to settle these two families down in Bison Gap if we see somethin’ that suits ’em. We’ll take a good look around, then we’ll most likely talk to you again.” He turned to Emma. “Is that about right, Emma?”

  “I reckon,” she answered. “I’d like to hear some more about that hotel, too.”

  “Good, good,” Wheeler said. “Be glad to talk any time you want.”

  “We’d best get out to Rooster’s place and set up our camp now while we’ve still got plenty of daylight left,” Possum said, and stood aside to let the ladies and the children pass out the door.

  Wheeler and his wife stood by the door as they walked out, and when Possum followed behind them, Wheeler put his hand on his elbow to cause him to pause. “I mean no disrespect to the Widow Slocum, but is she serious about wanting to know more about the hotel?”

  “She is,” Possum said.

  * * *

  Roost
er Crabb’s cabin was just as he had described it, neat and clean, unless a person considered the use of horse dung to decorate his little front porch a bit unattractive. There was also the use of what appeared to be hog excrement smeared on the two windows. Upon seeing the decorations, Rooster was immediately embarrassed and was quick to apologize for the affront to the two ladies. “I’m awful sorry about this, ladies. I reckon I shoulda come out here ahead of you folks to clean this mess up. It’s got to where it’s happenin’ every time I have to leave the place for a couple of days. You folks pick you a spot anywhere you want to park them wagons, and I’ll have this cleaned up in a jiffy, if my mop and bucket ain’t gone.”

  Astonished, his new friends could only gape at the obvious mess on his cabin until Possum asked, “So this wasn’t the way you left it?”

  “Gracious, no,” Rooster replied. “This is the doin’s of Coy Dawkins and his no-good friends.”

  “Who’s that?” Tom asked.

  “Coy rides for Cal Colbert, punchin’ cows. Leastways he did till Colbert found out him and two friends of his was cuttin’ out a few head of cattle every week or so to sell down in San Angelo. The three of ’em have been hangin’ around Bison Gap ever since they was fired last fall.”

  “What are they devilin’ you for?” Perley asked.

  Rooster shrugged. “I reckon it’s because I was the one that told Cal Colbert they was stealin’ from him. So what I think they’re up to is, they’re tryin’ to run me out so they can take over my place, here.”

  “Have you told the sheriff about it?” Tom asked.

  “I did, but Sheriff Pylant said ain’t nobody seen ’em around here, so there ain’t nothin’ he could do about it. He said he asked Coy about it and Coy said he didn’t know nothin’ about it. ’Course, I’ve seen ’em, but the sheriff says it’s my word against Coy’s and them other two Coy runs with swear he’s tellin’ the truth.” He shrugged again. “Ben Pylant ain’t too anxious to mix it up with the three of ’em, anyway. So I reckon I just have to put up with their shenanigans till maybe they decide to move on.” He offered up a helpless expression and said, “I’d best go see if they let my pigs out again. Last time they was here, I had to hunt for ’em—found ’em rootin’ down at the creek.”