Confessions of a Gunfighter (The Landon Saga Book 1)

by Tell Cotten

  I was surprised.

  “You’re a much better man than I am, Ross,” I said sincerely.

  Ross just shrugged, and he didn’t say anything else. But I was relieved, because I sure didn’t want there to be any hard feelings between us.

  ***

  After that, things went on as usual. However, a couple of weeks later, Mr. Tomlin came back from town with some grim news.

  “Steve Hardin is dead,” he told us soberly.

  We were all shocked.

  “What happened?” Ross asked.

  “He couldn’t pay his taxes,” Mr. Tomlin explained bitterly. “So, Lieutenant Porter and his men rode out to confiscate his place. But Hardin wouldn’t go, and there was some shooting. Hardin killed one of the soldiers, but then Roy Shaw killed Hardin.”

  It was silent as we all thought about that.

  “What about Jeremiah?” I asked.

  “He’s fine,” Mr. Tomlin said. “Matter of fact, he stands to benefit from Hardin’s death.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “Nobody knew it, but Hardin willed the place to Jeremiah.”

  “So Lieutenant Porter can’t buy the place?” Ross asked.

  “Not right now,” Mr. Tomlin replied. “But he’ll still get the place. Lieutenant Porter informed Jeremiah that he still has to pay Hardin’s taxes, and there’s no way he can afford it.”

  “How much?” I asked curiously.

  “Almost two thousand dollars. Can you believe that?” Mr. Tomlin shook his head in disgust.

  “Why so much?” I asked.

  “It seems that Steve Hardin owed back taxes since way before the war,” Mr. Tomlin explained. “My guess is that Lieutenant Porter muddied up the records.”

  “Can’t we do anything about this?” Ross wanted to know.

  “Not yet,” Mr. Tomlin grumbled. “Us ranchers have to get organized first.”

  “In the meantime, Jeremiah loses the ranch,” I said angrily.

  Mr. Tomlin had no answer for that, and with a frown he walked away.

  I was upset. Steve Hardin had been kind to me, and the thought of him getting gunned down by Shaw was disturbing.

  I was also disturbed about Jeremiah losing the place, and it was on my mind for the rest of the day.

  An idea slowly came to mind. And, the more I thought on it, the more I liked it.

  Chapter fifty-three

  Almost every rancher in the country came to Empty-lake for Mr. Hardin’s funeral.

  Neither Lieutenant Porter nor any of his men were present, and that was probably a good thing.

  It was a solemn funeral. Jeremiah looked sad and lost, and I felt sorry for him.

  It was a cool, still morning, and the preacher’s solemn voice carried well. He said all the things he was supposed to say, but he didn’t mention how he died.

  However, afterwards there was a lot of talk about it.

  At first it was just a bunch of angry talk. But then Mr. Tomlin got everybody’s attention and brought up the subject of all the ranchers getting associated. Most everybody liked the idea, and everyone decided to meet again in a few days and work out the specifics. Mr. Tomlin’s ranch was centrally located, so the meeting would be held at Mr. Tomlin’s headquarters.

  We got back to headquarters around midday. Nobody was in the mood to do much, so Mr. Tomlin gave us the afternoon off.

  “Mind if I ride into town?” I asked Mr. Tomlin.

  Mr. Tomlin shot me a bewildered look.

  “We just came from town,” he said.

  “I know, but I’ve got some personal business to attend to,” I replied.

  Mr. Tomlin was curious, but he didn’t press the matter.

  “Sure, go ahead,” he said.

  I nodded, and I went down to the barn and saddled Desperate. After that I went over to the bunk house and retrieved my saddlebags.

  Ross was there. And, as usual, he was curious as he watched me tie my saddlebags on behind my saddle.

  “Going somewhere?” He asked.

  “Yep,” I replied.

  Before Ross could reply, I stepped into the saddle and rode out.

  I was real watchful as I trotted into town. The streets were busy, and I received a few curious looks.

  I pulled Desperate up in front of the new Texas state police building. I dismounted, tied Desperate to the hitching rail, and moved to my saddlebags.

  I dug deep and pulled out a small bundle, and then I stepped up onto the porch.

  I had already checked my six-shooter, so I opened the door and stepped inside.

  Lieutenant Porter was seated at his desk, and he was alone.

  He glanced up and recognized me, and his face was curious.

  “What are you doing here?” He asked.

  Slowly and deliberately, I let my gun hand rest on the handle of my six-shooter. Lieutenant Porter noticed this, and he narrowed his eyes.

  “Here on some business,” I replied.

  “What business?” Lieutenant Porter scoffed.

  I walked up to his desk and tossed my bundle in front of him.

  “What is this?” Lieutenant Porter asked irritably.

  “Open it and find out,” I replied.

  Lieutenant Porter was angry. However, he stayed calm as he opened the bundle, and his face registered true shock.

  “There’s over two thousand dollars there,” I said before Lieutenant Porter could say anything. “That should cover Jeremiah’s taxes.”

  Lieutenant Porter was silent as he stared at the money. He was thinking hard, and then he smiled wryly.

  “Where’d this come from?” He asked.

  “That doesn’t matter,” I replied.

  “Well now,” Lieutenant Porter smiled smugly. “Looks like I ain’t the only one with a good side business.”

  I ignored his remark.

  “I want two written receipts, both signed by you,” I said. “One’s for Jeremiah. The other one will be well hidden. And, if anything happens to Jeremiah or his land, then this other receipt will find its way to the right people.”

  Lieutenant Porter smiled arrogantly.

  “You’ve got this all figured out, don’t you?”

  “I do,” I nodded.

  Lieutenant Porter eyed me thoughtfully.

  “And if I don’t do this you’ll shoot me. Is that it?”

  “Let’s not find out,” I replied.

  Despite the situation, Lieutenant Porter chuckled.

  “Looks like I had you figured out right after all,” he said.

  “Mebbe so,” I replied. “Now start writing.”

  Lieutenant Porter was silent as he thought it over, and then his arrogant smile returned.

  “All right, Joe, I’ll humor you this once.”

  Lieutenant Porter picked up a pen and dipped it in ink, and it was silent as he wrote out both receipts.

  “You think you’re really something, don’t you?” Lieutenant Porter asked as he finished.

  “No,” I replied.

  Using one hand, I took the receipts, folded them, and slipped them into my pocket. All the while, my gun hand rested on my gun handle.

  Lieutenant Porter watched me with an amused grin.

  “You know, it’s too bad you didn’t accept my job offer. I could sure use a feller like you.”

  Again, I ignored him as I moved to the door.

  “My business here is done. I’ll be leaving now,” I said.

  Lieutenant Porter acted like he hadn’t heard me as he nodded at my six-shooter.

  “Think you’re good enough to kill me with that?” He asked.

  “Yes,” I replied curtly.

  Lieutenant Porter smiled.

  “You know, I’m a pretty good shot myself.”

  “So you’ve said.”

  Lieutenant Porter frowned thoughtfully as he studied me.

  “I don’t think you can beat me,” he said.

  I shrugged.

  “Never know ’til we’ve tried.”

>   “Just who are you, anyway?” Lieutenant Porter asked. “I could still swear that I’ve seen you someplace.”

  I was tempted to tell him and then shoot him, but I controlled myself.

  “Not yet,” I replied, and then I stepped out the door.

  Chapter fifty-four

  It was almost dark by the time I got back to headquarters.

  I unsaddled Desperate and put up my gear, and then I walked up to the main house.

  Mr. Tomlin was in his usual position for this time of day. He was sitting in his chair out on the front porch, and he looked curiously at me.

  “You missed supper,” he said. “But I’m sure Rachel saved you something.”

  “Thanks, but I ain’t hungry anyhow,” I replied as I sat down across from him.

  Mr. Tomlin studied me for a moment.

  “Get your business tended to?”

  “Yes, sir,” I nodded.

  I reached inside my pocket and pulled out the receipts.

  “Here, I want you to keep these,” I handed them over.

  I then told him all that I had done, and Mr. Tomlin shook his head in disbelief.

  “How’d you get that much money?” He asked.

  I smiled wryly.

  “My last boss paid better than you do.”

  “Kinrich?”

  I nodded.

  “You see, I’ve been wanting to get rid of that money for a long time, and I couldn’t think of a better way,” I explained.

  Mr. Tomlin frowned as he thought on that.

  “Yes, I could see how you would feel that way,” he said, and asked, “How did Lieutenant Porter take it?”

  “He wasn’t as mad as I’d thought he’d be. Matter of fact, he seemed amused by the whole thing,” I replied. “But, I really didn’t give him much of a choice.”

  I reached down and tapped the handle of my six-shooter.

  Mr. Tomlin smiled, but then his face turned serious.

  “Lieutenant Porter sure isn’t going to be forgetting you anytime soon.”

  “No, sir. Don’t reckon he will,” I replied. “That’s fine with me. I ain’t going to be forgetting him anytime soon either.”

  “Lieutenant Porter strikes me as being a back shooter,” Mr. Tomlin continued.

  “I’d say so,” I agreed.

  “That means you’re going to have to be careful,” Mr. Tomlin concluded.

  “I always am, sir,” I replied.

  Mr. Tomlin nodded, and it fell silent for a while.

  “This is the first time anybody has stood against Lieutenant Porter,” Mr. Tomlin said. “He isn’t going to like it when everybody finds out.”

  “Think there’ll be trouble?” I asked.

  “More’n likely. Lieutenant Porter will probably feel like he has to retaliate some way to keep everybody scared of him.”

  I nodded slowly.

  “That’s one of the things I learned while I was with Kinrich,” I said.

  “Oh? What’s that?” Mr. Tomlin asked.

  “In times of trouble, it’s better to be feared than to be liked. You can’t always make folks like you, but you sure can make ’em fear you.”

  Mr. Tomlin eyed me thoughtfully.

  “Yes, I believe you’re right,” he finally said.

  Chapter fifty-five

  A few nights later we had the meeting with all the ranchers.

  At first it was just a lot of angry talk. One rancher wanted to burn down the Texas State Police building, and some others wanted to ride into town and shoot it out.

  Finally, Mr. Tomlin got up and got everybody’s attention. He laid out a simple and precise plan, and most everybody agreed.

  “There’s something else I’d like to discuss,” Mr. Tomlin continued. “Everybody knows how hard the times are right now. Taxes are so high we can’t pay ’em, and here in Texas our cattle aren’t even worth a sack of flour.”

  “That’s right!” A feller or two agreed.

  “However, yearlings are worth a lot in Abilene,” Mr. Tomlin said. “So, I suggest we pool all our cattle together and make a drive up to Abilene. If we could make it, then most of us should make enough profit to pay our taxes and survive another year.”

  It was silent as everybody thought on it.

  “Count me in,” a feller finally said.

  “Me too,” another said.

  Most all the ranchers agreed to pool their yearlings. One by one they went around the room, and each rancher gave an estimated amount of cattle they had to sell.

  The final count came to be about four thousand head.

  I cleared my throat and got Mr. Tomlin’s attention.

  “Yes, Joe, what is it?” Mr. Tomlin asked.

  “With us taking that many head we’ll have to be careful, or else we’ll run out of grass before we get there,” I said.

  Mr. Tomlin nodded.

  “I know the risks. It’ll be a long, tough drive, and we’ll be lucky to make it. But, we don’t have a choice.”

  Mr. Tomlin looked down at his wife.

  “There’s something else. A drive like this will take young men, and while I’m not that old, I’m not exactly young either. So, I suggest that all us older fellers stay here. Besides, somebody’s got to stay here and take care of things.”

  A lot of the older cow-punchers didn’t like that idea, but they finally all agreed.

  Mr. Tomlin looked over at Ross.

  “Since I’m not going, I’d like to recommend that Ross be the trail boss. He’s a good hand with cattle, and he also knows how to handle a group of men.”

  Several others voiced their support for Ross, and nobody had any objections.

  Ross was very appreciative.

  “Thank you, folks. I won’t let you down,” Ross said.

  “I know you won’t,” Mr. Tomlin said. “But, you’re going to need all the help you can get, and that’s why I’d also like to recommend that Joe here be the straw boss. Joe knows the country better than anyone. He could serve as the scout, and map out the best route to take.”

  Again, everybody voiced their approval, and I was deeply humbled.

  Rachel grinned and looked proud while Ross looked at me and winked.

  “Will you do it, Joe?” Mr. Tomlin asked.

  I nodded meekly.

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Mr. Tomlin said as he turned back to the men. “Now, this is how I have it all figured out….”

  The ranchers talked deep into the night. Such a task took a lot of planning, and everybody mulled over several different ideas.

  It was decided that we would leave in a month. That would give all the ranchers time to gather their stock and drive them here, and that would also give Mr. Tomlin enough time to hire a crew. Every ranch was going to throw in some hands, but we would still need more.

  It took us a week to gather all of Mr. Tomlin’s stock. After that we sorted out all the yearlings that Mr. Tomlin wanted to sell, and then we scattered Mr. Tomlin’s cows back over the range.

  We held the herd in a little draw a few miles from headquarters. There was plenty of water there, and as different herds came in we would throw them in with them.

  Mr. Tomlin hired some extra hands to stay out with the herd. Their job was to keep the herd together, and every day they would move the herd so that they could graze.

  The whole time we worked cattle we all kept a sharp look out for trouble. But it never came, and we were glad.

  I was starting to wonder what had happened to Palmer. He had said that he wanted to make me sweat some more, and I reckon I had. But it had been almost a month since I had seen him, and I couldn’t figure out what he was waiting for.

  We all knew that trouble was coming. We could just feel it.

  And then, a few days later, trouble finally arrived.

  Chapter fifty-six

  It was midmorning.

  I had just finished topping off a bronc when Ross came loping into headquarters, hollering aro
und at everybody.

  “Looks like we’ve got hoss thieves,” Ross announced as everybody rushed up. “I couldn’t find the remuda. So, I rode in a big circle, and that’s when I found the tracks.”

  “Where?” Mr. Tomlin demanded to know.

  “They’re about five miles south of here,” Ross explained. “And they ain’t Injuns, ’cause their hosses are shod.”

  Mr. Tomlin frowned thoughtfully.

  “How old are the tracks?”

  “A day, mebbe two,” Ross replied.

  “How many of ’em do you think there are?”

  Ross gave his own thoughtful frown.

  “I don’t rightly know. It’s hard to tell, ’cause those tracks are spread out all over the place. But I’d say no more than four or five.”

  “All right, we’ll go after ’em,” Mr. Tomlin declared. “Martha, you and Rachel hurry up to the house and pack us enough grub to last a couple of days. Ross, you and Rondo get your gear packed. We leave in ten minutes.”

  “Want me to ride out to the herd and get the extra hands?” Ross asked.

  Mr. Tomlin frowned as he thought on that, and he shook his head.

  “No, they’d just be more targets for those horse thieves to shoot at,” he replied. “We’ll take care of this ourselves.”

  I had a bad feeling about this. I was sure that this was Lieutenant Porter retaliating, and I felt responsible.

  Everybody was rushing off, but I called out to Mr. Tomlin.

  “Sir, how ’bout letting me go out after them alone? I might be able to get your horses back.”

  Mr. Tomlin stopped in his tracks. He turned and stared at me, as did Ross.

  “Are you crazy, boy? How could one man stop four or five men?”

  “I’d sure be willing to give it a try,” I replied. “I’d hate to see anybody get hurt.”

  Mr. Tomlin frowned, as if he was disappointed in me.

  “Listen, son: if you think I’m going to just sit here and do nothing then you’re wrong. I might be a God fearing Christian man, but when somebody steals something that belongs to me I’m going to take up my gun and get my property back. So you’re right; somebody is going to get hurt, but it’s going to be those poor fools that stole my horses. Now we’re wasting time. Get your gear thrown together and let’s git.”