by Roy Clinton
“Is that any way to talk to your own brother?”
“You’re not my brother. I don’t claim any kin to you,” said Hubert. “But you owe me fifty bucks for all you stole when you were here last.”
“I don’t owe you nothin’,” shouted Holloway with anger in his voice.
John swung down and went to his saddlebag to remove some money. “Hubert, the good news is Percy had plenty of money on him when I captured him. Here is the fifty dollars he owes you.”
“Thanks, John. What happened to Gomez and Atkins?” asked Etta Mae.
“They are buried back in Nicksville.”
“I wish Percy had been buried with them,” said Hubert.
“Now brother. You need to have more respect for me.”
“I have no respect for you,” said Hubert. “It won’t be long ’til you are hanged in Laredo and buried there.”
Holloway kept silent as he contemplated the truth of his brother’s statement.
“Hubert, can you help me get your brother out of the saddle? I’m still finding my arm a bit stiff and sore.”
“Sure thing, John.”
“Come on in, John,” said Etta Mae. “I’ve got supper ready. But I don’t want that man in my house.”
“He can eat on the porch,” said Hubert. “John help me get him chained to the corner post.”
“You can’t treat me like that,” yelled Holloway. “I’m a man! You need to treat me like one.”
“You’re wastin’ your breath,” said John. “You haven’t cared about anyone but yourself. Now, I’m gonna make sure you’re always kept out in the open where I can see you.”
Holloway grumbled and cursed. As John and Hubert went in for supper, Percy started beating his chains against the window and yelling that they needed to let him come inside. Etta Mae picked up a frying pan and went out to the porch.
“If you break my window, I’m going to crown you with this frying pan. And if you keep yelling, I’ll use this to quiet you down. Got it?”
Holloway stopped the noise and sat quietly on the porch. Subconsciously, he rubbed his head where Nicks had hit him with his frying pan. He never made another noise during the evening. When their meal was over, Etta Mae took a plate of food out to Holloway and fed him since his hands were cuffed behind his back.
“Thank you, Etta Mae. I knew you were a good Christian woman.”
“Don’t you say another word to me, Percy. If you do, I’ll take the rest of your supper inside.” Holloway immediately stopped his talking. He was sure his sister-in-law was not making an idle threat.
After supper, Etta Mae cleared the dirty dishes and brought bandage materials, whisky, and ointment. John knew what was coming. He pushed his chair back from the table as Etta Mae unwrapped the bandage from his head. She shook her head and repeated grunts that showed her displeasure in how the wound was healing.
Without any protest John removed his shirt so she could get to the wound in his arm. As she was finishing with that wound, Hubert pulled his chair up to John’s and reached down for John’s boots. Without any conversation, John raised his foot and Hubert removed his boot. Then John raised his other foot and Hubert removed it as well. On cue, Etta Mae turned her back and John slipped off his pants but held them close to cover himself as best he could. In a few minutes Etta Mae had changed the dressings and applied ointment.
“John, you’re not going to like this but you are not healing up like you should. And as long as you keep riding as hard as you have, you’re not going to heal. You have to take it easy or you run the risk of having more problems than just some extra holes in your body.”
✽ ✽ ✽
As the sun began to come over the horizon, John had the horses saddled. Hubert wanted to help but John stubbornly went ahead and saddled both horses saying he would accept only help getting Holloway into the saddle.
He didn’t want to admit it to himself but John’s wounds were causing him a great deal of pain. Etta Mae was right about him needing to take it easy. He decided he would go no further than Cotulla that day.
John had Midnight walk throughout the day. The amazing stallion didn’t try to move faster. It was as if Midnight could sense John’s discomfort. Unfortunately, Holloway could also see that John was struggling. Just before noon, Holloway made his move.
Holloway spurred his horse beside Crudder and used his forehead to butt John on his scalp wound. He used his head as a hammer and pounded John twice before John knew what had happened. John fell from the saddle unconscious. Holloway tried to urge his horse forward so he could reach the reins John had tied to his saddle.
Midnight immediately sensed what had happened and moved forward, pulling Holloway’s horse with him.
“Come back here you blame horse,” yelled Holloway. Midnight stopped, turned back and bit Holloway on his leg. Holloway let out a wail. Midnight bit him again and Holloway started crying. “Get away from me, horse. Please don’t bite me again.”
Midnight relented and went back to where his owner had fallen. The horse nuzzled John and gently massaged his face. In a few minutes, John regained consciousness. As he sat up, he realized his head wound had ripped open. Blood had pooled on the ground. He pulled off his neckerchief and tied it tightly around his head. The pain was much greater as he did so, but he knew if he continued to lose blood, he would not survive.
“Look what your horse did to me!” cried Holloway. “I think he’s ruined my leg. I didn’t know horses could bite that hard. I’m bleedin’. Do something.”
John pulled himself onto his horse and decided he would respond to Holloway’s request and ‘do something.’ He pulled his gun and brought the barrel down on Holloway’s nose. Blood gushed from the wound.
“What are you doin’? You can’t do that to me.” John turned back to Holloway and held up his gun again. “Please don’t hurt me again. I’ll be good.”
John moved ahead with Holloway’s horse following close behind. They made it to Cotulla by nightfall.
Chapter 22
As he rode up to the hitching rail in front of the dining hall, several hands came out and hurled insults at Holloway. It was clear they had reason to hate him. John recalled how Joe talked about Holloway and his friends being lazy and getting into fights. No doubt, many of the hands had to pick up the slack from Holloway’s laziness.
Before John could get off his horse, word had gotten to Joe that they had company. “Hello, John. I see you’ve got that no-account sidewinder with you. Where are his friends? John, what happened to you? You have blood all down your shirt.”
As John started to move from the saddle, several cowboys stepped forward to help him down and ease him into the dining hall.
“Hello, Joe. Holloway got the drop on me back on the trail. Used his head like a batterin’ ram and busted my head open. I just need to get this cleaned up a bit and get somethin’ to eat.”
“We better get your head looked at first. Somebody go get Mo and tell him to bring his doctorin’ kit.” The hands half carried John to the back of the dining hall and laid him on a cot that was set up against the wall. Mo came over with a bucket of medical supplies.
“John, you shor messed up your head,” said Mo.
“Actually, Holloway did that. He’s the one who shot me to begin with. Then he busted my head open again usin’ his own hard head.”
“He did a good job. I’m gonna have to stitch that up again. All of the stitches have torn out.”
“When you finish with me, I think Holloway’s nose will need some attention. He got in the way of my gun barrel after he busted my head.”
Mo laughed. “Yup, it looks like he got taught a bit of a lesson.”
“Also, you need to look at his leg. I think Midnight took exception when he knocked me out of the saddle. It looks like Midnight got in a few good bites on his leg.”
Mo laughed again. “Sounds like a good horse. I’ll check on Holloway after I get you stitched up.”
Joe was watching Mo
work and spoke to John. “So what happened to Gomez and Atkins?”
“They’re bein’ buried in Nicksville. And if ole man Nicks hadn’t hit Holloway with a fryin’ pan, they’d be burin’ him too.”
Joe doubled over with laughter. “I shor would have liked to have seen that. Come on boys. Go out and get Holloway down and chain him up in the yard. I don’t want to waste any good groceries on him. See if Mo has any scraps he can feed him.”
“I’m not eatin’ any scraps. I’m not a dog,” said Holloway.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” said Cotulla. “You are a dog. And it don’t make me no matter whether you eat or not. Boys, make sure you get his chains good and tight.”
Mo finished up with John and went out to tend to Holloway’s wounds. Joe helped John off the cot and walked him to a table. “We were just finishin’ up supper. Mo’s made chicken and dumplings. I think you’ll like ’em.”
“I’m sure I will. So far, I’ve liked everything Mo’s made.”
“John, I’ve made a decision. I’m ridin’ with you to Laredo. And I’m bringin’ a couple of hands with me. I don’t want to take a chance on Holloway gettin’ the drop on you again. You really ought to stay here on the ranch but I know you won’t do it.”
“No, I won’t stay behind but I’ll sure take you up on your offer to ride with me. I think I can make it fine but I don’t have a lot of energy left-over to deal with Holloway.”
“My suggestion is that we wait around here tomorrow and let you get your strength back,” said Joseph. “We can leave the next day and make it down to Laredo in two days.”
“Actually, that sounds good to me. I can use the rest,” said John. And when we head out, we need to stay away from Encinal. Holloway murdered three people there. If I bring him through that city, they’ll not let me take him on further. I need to get him to Laredo. Slim’s bringin’ his son Richie down there to see the murder trial.”
“I’ll be glad to see Slim again,” said Joe. “We have a lot of catchin’ up to do.”
“I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you as well. Joe, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll skip supper. I think I’d like to lie down. At this point, I think sleep will do me more good than food.”
“Sure, John. Let me help you over to be bunkhouse. And tomorrow, you stay in when the hands get up. Sleep as long as you can and then Mo will get you something to eat.”
“Thanks, Joe. I’ll do that.”
That night, John slept soundly and didn’t even stir when the hands got up for breakfast. Somewhere around midmorning, John woke up, dressed and walked over to the dining hall. Mo was there as always.
“What would you like for breakfast? I can get you some bacon and eggs. Or I can make you some pancakes and sausage.”
“Mo that all sounds good. But I don’t reckon you have any of those chicken and dumplings left-over, do ya’?”
Mo smiled and said, “Just give me a few minutes to heat it up. And I’ve got some biscuits left from breakfast that will go well with it.”
John took a seat and Mo filled a bowl with the delectable treat. As far as he knew, he had never had chicken and dumplings before but he was sure it would not be the last time. He expressed to Mo how much he liked them and that it was something new for him.
“I’ll write down the recipe if you like. I’m sure that wife of yours will be able to make it for you any time you like.” Mo disappeared into the kitchen and in a few minutes emerged with the recipe carefully notated. “I also wrote out my ‘nana puddin’ recipe, just in case you get a hankerin’ for that and you can’t get back to Cotulla.” Mo laughed at his own joke and John smiled in response.
John ate what he could and excused himself to go back to the bunkhouse. He slept right on through until supper. His body was taking advantage of the opportunity to heal from the trauma of travel.
✽ ✽ ✽
Joe picked out two of his top hands to be in charge of seeing to Holloway. They got him breakfast, took him to the outhouse and then put him on his horse and connected the leg irons beneath his horse.
“There’s plenty of you here so you don’t have to worry about me escaping. Please take off these leg irons. And the hand cuffs are pulling my shoulders out of joint.”
Joe and the other men just ignored Holloway. With great pain, John pulled himself into his saddle. Midnight moved ever so gently as if he understood he needed to be careful with John.
At the end of their first day out of the Cotulla Ranch, they had were about ten miles south of Encinal. John was glad they hadn’t met up with anyone there. He would not have been willing to give up his prisoner and would have done whatever was necessary to keep him.
Toward evening on the second day, the group made their way to Laredo. John led the way to the sheriff’s office, swung down, and went inside.
“Sheriff Lasiter,” said John. “I’ve got a prisoner for you.”
“Howdy, John. It’s good to see you,” said the sheriff as he got up and went out to the hitching rail. “Where’s Gomez and Atkins?”
“They’re back at Nicksville pushin’ up daises.”
“That’ll just save us the trouble of two more trials.”
“Just so you know. Holloway and his partners murdered three people in Encinal a few days ago. They wanted me to bring them back there when I found ’em but I told them Laredo had a prior claim.”
“Don’t worry about them,” said Sheriff JD. “I’ll handle things with their sheriff. They can have Holloway’s body after he’s tried and hung. They can do what they want with him.”
John introduced Joseph Cotulla and the other men. After handshakes all around, Lasiter took charge of the prisoner and prepared to lock him in a cell.
“I’m gonna go find the judge. I told him you were gonna bring Holloway in. He said he wanted to put him on trial just as soon as possible. If you’ll look around the side, you’ll see the hangin’ scaffold is almost finished. The judge got it started soon after you went after Holloway.
“Don’t sound none like I’m gonna get a fair trial here,” said Holloway. “That ain’t right.”
“Holloway, don’t you worry about it,” said JD. “We’re gonna treat you a lot better than you did Marie Hanson. We’re gonna give you a fair trial, give you a last meal, and then we will hang you by the neck ’til you are dead.”
Lasiter’s deputy led Holloway to his cell as Holloway loudly protested the way he was being treated.
“Sheriff Lasiter, there’s one more matter. There’s over a thousand dollars in my saddlebags that we took off Holloway and his gang. I’ve got a feelin’ he has more loot from his bank jobs stashed. I don’t know if it will ever be found.”
“Let’s get inside and get the money counted,” said the sheriff. “I’ll give you a receipt and then take it to the bank in the morning. Meanwhile, you all might as well get rooms at the hotel and have somethin’ to eat. Usually the judge starts trials two days after we get a prisoner.”
“That sounds good to me, sheriff,” said John. “I could sure use the rest.” John turned to Cotulla and said, “I think Slim should be here by tomorrow or the next day at the latest. I’ll see you men in the morning. I’m going to bed.”
John turned and mounted Midnight and headed to the livery stable. After giving him a good brushing and paying for his feed and board, John went to the hotel and paid for a room and a bath. When he made arrangements for the bath, the proprietor asked if he wanted to purchase a cigar to enjoy with his bath. John’s stomach flipped with the mere mention of a cigar. He remembered how sick he got in San Antonio when he had a bath at the Menger Hotel and tried his first cigar. So far as he was concerned, that was his first and last.
Chapter 23
LAREDO, TEXAS
Monday morning, Judge William Moore had Sheriff JD Lasiter post a notice that the trial would take place the next morning. The poster said:
Here Ye, Hear Ye, Hear Ye
Judge William Moore has decreed that
> Jasper “Percy” Holloway
will stand trial for the murder of
Consuelo Marie De Zavala Morales Hanson
on Tuesday, February 17, 1874 at 9 o’clock a.m.
All interested parties are instructed to be in court at that time.
John was concerned for he had not heard from Slim and Richie. He went to see Judge Moore to voice his concerns. Inside his office, John saw the judge was a tall, mature man with wavy, flowing gray hair. He had a distinguished face that spoke of many years working in the sun. John was impressed that the judge appeared to be someone who had not spent all of his time in court.
“Howdy, young man. What happened to your head?” asked Judge Moore. “Well Judge, I’ve got a problem.”
“Now hold it right there, son. I don’t even know your name.”
“I apologize, Judge. My name is John Crudder and I’m….”
“Well John, it’s nice to meet you. Now in court, people always address me as Judge Moore or just Judge. But in my office, I like to be on a first name basis. You may call me Snookey.”
“I’m sorry, but I thought your name was William.”
“Indeed it is. My momma used to call my brother Sonny so when I came along, she started callin’ me Snookey. Don’t know why she did it but the name stuck. I’ve been called Snookey ever since. Now I asked you what happened to your head? You got it all bandaged up.”
“Judge—I mean, Snookey. I got shot by Holloway. He also shot me in my arm and my leg and left me for dead.”
“That wasn’t very neighborly of him now, was it?”
John scratched his head as he considered what the judge had said. “No, Snookey, it was not very neighborly. But I came here with another concern. I saw you’re callin’ for the trial of Holloway to begin in the morning. Sir, the problem is the key witness, Mrs. Hanson’s son Richie, is not yet in town. I’m sure he’s comin’. I sent word for him soon after I captured Holloway, but I don’t see how the trial can proceed without a witness. At the very least, you will have to declare a mistrial. At worst, Holloway will be found not guilty due to an absence of evidence.”