by Will Starr
‘Very well. It shouldn’t take long, and I quite agree. Let boys be boys.’
Jeremiah pushed ahead of his brother and threw his hat into the dust. He doubled his fist and threw an overhand haymaker at Jack. Jack stepped sideways and let the blow slip over his left shoulder while delivering three fast jabs with his left to the nose and face of Jeremiah, who then promptly joined his hat in the dirt.
Jeremiah got to his feet, and his hand went to his nose, coming away red with blood. For a moment, he stared at Jack, open-mouthed.
‘Say, how do you do that? I never even saw it coming! Can you teach us that?’
‘I will if you’ll loan me some decent range clothes.’
All three boys ran to the house, whooping and yelling.
Reginald glanced at Ben. ‘I said it wouldn’t take long, but that was even faster than I thought!’
Ben grinned. ‘The boys are going fishing today. Looks like I’d better rig another pole.’
Business was discussed over coffee, and Ben was pleased to learn that Reggie’s clients wanted to invest in cattle, and possibly mining. They had no interest in buying ranches. They settled a deal on cattle, and Ben suggested a ride to the mine.
Ben watched as Reggie examined a piece of ore he had pulled off the cart. To his surprise, Reggie dug a jeweler’s glass out of his vest and peered closely at the specimen, turning it over and over. He obviously knew what he was doing. Ben’s respect for the man grew once again. Finally, Reggie turned to Ben with an excited grin on his face.
‘I say! This is incredibly rich ore, Ben! I’d have to have a few random samples assayed, of course, but I’ll want to recommend this to my investors. They’ll back you on men and equipment.’
Ben and Reggie were sitting on the porch, enjoying coffee and cigars when Bear pounded down the road and into the barnyard, his horse lathered and winded. Alarmed, Ben rose and walked to the railing. Bear was wide-eyed and breathless.
‘The boys are gone, Ben! I went to check on them and they’re gone. Someone stacked some rocks and left this note under the top one.’
The note was brief and to the point. If Ben wanted the boys back, he was to drive alone down the road toward Cook’s Crossing, and bring ten thousand in cash. The note said the ranch was being watched and anything that looked suspicious would result in the boys’ deaths.
‘Get the buckboard harnessed, Bear, and tell Clay Johnson to come to the house.’ Ben turned to Reggie. ‘I know your son is in this too, but it says I’m to come alone, so I’ll have to ask you to stay here.’ He looked the other man in the eye. ‘I plan to find out where our boys are, and when I know, we’ll both go, Reggie.’
Ben instructed Clay Johnson who left immediately. Mattie walked into the room and Ben gave her the news. He explained what he had in mind, and she nodded. Her eyes moistened, but she blinked back her tears.
‘Who would do this, Ben?’
Ben looked at her thoughtfully.
‘I hadn’t considered that, Mattie. Someone who knows us, I suppose. Someone who thinks we have cash money. Maybe I’ll know him when I see him.’
Ben found his leather valise, and gave it to Bear with instructions. He checked the loads in both his Winchester and his belt gun, placing the Winchester in the boot of the buckboard. He glanced one more time at his pocket-watch, and looked off to the south where the boys should have been. He had delayed long enough for his instructions to be underway. He embraced Mattie one more time, and climbed onto the seat. Taking up the reins, he drove slowly out of the yard.
The road to Cook’s Crossing ran mostly on the flat grassland, but at one point, it ran up the slope and through the timber to avoid a marshy area on the lowland. It was here that Ben expected the kidnapper to appear and he was not disappointed. An unkempt, long-haired man stepped out from behind a large pine and held up his hand. He was armed with a double-barreled shotgun, and Ben did not recognize him, although there was something a little familiar about him.
‘Hold up there! You Ben Tower?’ The man peered closely at Ben, obviously unsure.
Ben didn’t know him and he apparently didn’t know Ben either. Ben stared at him a moment and then slowly nodded his head.
‘That’s right. I’m Ben Tower. You the man who took my boys?’
‘You bring the money? Don’t fool about with me, Tower, if you want to see those boys again.’
‘I’ll need some bona fides to make sure you’re the right man. I don’t want to hand over ten thousand in gold to the wrong man.
The man grinned, exposing broken and tobacco-stained teeth. ‘You got the money, hey? Well, they’s two of ’em just alike as two peas. There’s another ’un talks funny. He yours too?’
‘He’s the son of a friend. All right, I guess you’re the one.’ He started to reach into the buckboard boot, but hesitated. ‘I’m going to get the gold. Don’t shoot.’
‘I won’t shoot. Just toss it on down here.’ He looked at Ben and tilted his head thoughtfully. ‘But don’t try nothin’. This here scattergun is serious.’
Ben lifted the heavy valise with both hands, and tossed it down to the still-grinning man, who grabbed it with one hand while the other held the shotgun on Ben. He dragged it over by the pine, where he licked his lips in anticipation, his eyes darting from Ben to the bag. At last, greed overcame his caution, so he propped his shotgun against the tree and turned the clasp on the bag, throwing it open. For a long moment, he stared at the collection of rusty nuts, bolt, and washers, with unbelieving eyes. Then he slowly turned to look at Ben who was looking back at him over the barrel of his Winchester.
‘What the hell are you doin’, Tower? If I don’t come back with the money, them boys will be dead!’
Ben kept the steady, black cold eye of the Winchester on the kidnapper’s chest, and called out loudly.
‘Medicine Hawk!’
The barrel-chested Indian stepped out from the brush on the far side of the road and fixed the man with a menacing, black-eyed stare. He was naked except for a breechclout and a large knife in a sheath. He was covered in shiny bear grease, which served to accentuate his sinewy muscles and dark skin. The kidnapper glanced from Ben to Medicine Hawk and licked his lips nervously.
‘Who’s he? Where the hell did he come from?’
‘He came well in advance and he’s probably been watching you for a good half hour. He has his ways, and he sets a lot of store by those boys.’ Ben pulled a set of irons from the buckboard boot and tossed them to the man.
‘Put those on.’
‘Hell if I will!’
Ben casually fired one round from his rifle, taking the hat off the man’s head.
‘I said put them on, and be quick about it!’
Ben checked the chains binding the man to the tree and nodded at Medicine Hawk who had a hot, mesquite fire going. He walked to the buckboard and pulled out two branding irons, handing them to Medicine Hawk, who placed them in the coals of his fire. He then turned to the kidnapper.
‘Where are my boys? You might as well tell me now, because in due time, you’ll tell me anything I want to know. In due time, you’ll curse your mother if asked.’
‘If I ain’t back in an hour, my brother will kill them boys.’ He glanced nervously from Ben to Medicine Hawk.
‘Have it your way.’ Ben climbed back onto the buckboard and picked up the reins, and began turning the rig around.
‘Where the hell you goin’?’ The kidnapper was almost frantic.
‘He likes to work alone. I’ll be back in the morning.’ He flicked the reins and began to drive away as Medicine Hawk lifted a glowing iron from the coals of the mesquite fire with a menacing scowl.
‘Wait! Wait! Stop! I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, only don’t leave me here alone with him! It ain’t human!’ The kidnapper was almost screaming in terror.
His name was Roy Stiles, older brother to Junior Styles, a ranch-hand Ben had fired the previous year for stealing a saddle. In a few minutes, and aided by
an occasional dark look from Medicine Hawk, Ben knew where the boys were being held and that the Stiles brothers had acted alone.
CHAPTER 14
Junior Styles was having trouble rolling himself a Mexican-style cigarette because his hands were shaking so badly. He’d committed lots of petty crimes, but this was different. His brother Roy had assured him that they could not get caught, but Roy had already spent four years in the territorial prison because he did get caught. Junior Styles did not want to go to prison.
Things had gone wrong from the start. They’d been watching the ranch with a spyglass, so when the twins were seen with fishing gear, the plot was set in motion. Junior knew where they liked to fish from his days as ranch-hand, so the Styles brothers were waiting for them. That’s when they discovered the presence of a third boy with a foreign accent, and Junior was ready to drop the whole thing, but Roy wouldn’t have it, so they stepped out of concealment and forced all three into the back of the stolen team and wagon at gunpoint where they were bound tightly and covered with canvas. Then Junior drove them a few miles to this place where they had already dug a shallow grave.
Learning that Roy wanted that grave dug was what alarmed Junior. Why dig a grave unless Roy planned on killing the boys either way? That, of course would be murder, and a cold-blooded, heinous murder at that. Such an outrage would certainly end in a hanging and Junior Styles also didn’t want to hang, so he was contemplating his next move, and that involved abandoning his brother, not that they had ever been close. In fact, Junior never much cared for Roy anyway, because he had bullied his younger brother unmercifully when they were boys.
He checked his pocket-watch one more time. Roy was now over an hour late, so he made up his mind and untied his riding horse from the back of the wagon. He started to rein him around and then hesitated. He stepped back down, and pulled the canvas off the boys who stared back at him. Then he fished around in his saddle bags and pulled out his old spare pocket-knife.
‘I’m done with this damn thing, boys, so I’m riding off. I’m leaving this here knife so’s you can cut your bindings in due time.’
He spat over his shoulder.
‘Truth be told, I didn’t want nothing to do with this sorry adventure from the jump, but I reckon I’m a cowardly sort and scared of my brother, so I did what he told me.’
He took off his hat and wiped the sweatband.
‘Tell your pa what I said about wanting no part of this. He was real good to me, and then I up and stole a saddle from him. Damn me for being a thief. I regret that one too.’ With that, Junior Styles mounted up and headed for the distant blue mountains.
Half an hour later, the boys were free and rubbing their wrists. The team was still hitched to the wagon, so they decided to just drive it back to the ranch. Joseph climbed into the seat and was picking up the reins when he spotted a rifle. He checked it and it was loaded. He was about to tell the others when he heard approaching hoofs.
‘Horse coming! Run and hide behind that brush pile over there!’
Joseph grabbed the rifle and dove behind the brush with the others. Then he laid the rifle across the brush and eared back the hammer.
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Look down and under this brush pile. What do you see?’
Jeremiah looked and his face paled. He glanced at his brother.
‘That looks like a sure enough grave.’
Joseph nodded. ‘I’m going to do what Pa taught us. Junior wasn’t a real bad man I reckon, but that brother of his is as wicked as they get. I think he means to kill us, so I’m about to defend us, but if he gets me first, it’s up to you, Jerry.’
Jeremiah nodded.
The sound of hoofs grew louder, and Joseph suddenly realized that there were at least two horses, maybe more. His shoulders tightened, and he wiped the sweat from his brow. Then the riders appeared and he relaxed.
‘Pa! Mister Farnsworth! Uncle Bear! We’re over here!’
CHAPTER 15
‘Tell me again what happened, Ben. Leave nothing out.’
In the west, lightning flashed silently from an approaching thunderstorm. The sun was below the horizon, but its rays lit up the dark bottom of the storm in brilliant scarlets that contrasted beautifully with inky blackness. Mattie sipped a glass of wine that had been produced on the ranch by a French family who had established a vineyard. It was surprisingly good, so she invested some of her own money in the growing business. She and Ben were seated on the south porch.
‘As I said, Reggie was waiting for me just down the road and out of sight from where Medicine Hawk and I confronted Roy Styles. After Styles told me what I wanted to know, I was on my way to confront Junior Styles, so it was well that Bear took it upon himself to trail us. Three armed men are better than one.’
Ben lit a fresh cigar, and took a sip of his whiskey and water. The wind was beginning to freshen from the approaching storm and the coolness felt good. Lightning was starting to dance on the far end of the valley floor, and faint thunder now came their way.
‘As it happened of course, Junior had a change of mind and left. But before he did, he gave the boys a knife so they could free themselves.’ Ben looked at Mattie, whose jaw was set and hard. ‘That has to count for something, Mattie.’
‘Maybe.’ She rose and walked to the porch railing. ‘You said there was a fresh grave dug and ready?’ She turned and regarded her husband quietly. He nodded but said nothing.
‘They were going to kill our sons, and poor Jack too, Ben Tower. I won’t rest until both of those bastards are hanging from a gallows.’ It was the first time he had ever heard Mattie use profanity.
‘Planning to kill and actually killing are two different things, Mattie. No court will hang them because no one died.’ Ben rose and stood by Mattie, placing his big arm around her slim shoulders. The storm was building steadily, and the thunder was now almost constant. The mysterious, clean smell of new rain on parched earth, filled the air.
‘I know the law won’t permit it, Ben, and I would not want anyone to break the law, but as a woman and a mother, I will never be at ease until those two men are dead and rotting in their graves.’
Ben nodded. ‘If they had harmed any of those boys, Reggie and I would have done for them.’
‘If the one called Roy had refused to talk, what would you have done?’
‘I would have kept my promise, Mattie. Medicine Hawk is an Indian, and they like to see how brave a man is before he begs them to stop, and they all do beg sooner or later. Roy Styles knew he was whipped, so the way he saw it, there was no sense in being stubborn.’
The first few drops of rain sounded on the tin porch roof, but Ben and Mattie were reluctant to leave so they retreated to their chairs and side table. Ben took another sip of his drink. He allowed himself one of an evening.
‘Clay Johnson and Bear took Roy Styles in irons to Harvey Davis, since he’s the only real law around here. I expect he’ll confess and ask the court for mercy, since it’s obvious that he’s guilty. He’s already been in prison once, so he knows it’s futile to pretend he’s an innocent man. Junior will probably get caught too, but I still think he just did what his big brother told him to do. In fact, it took courage to abandon the whole thing and defy Roy.’
Mattie sighed. ‘Just about the time I think you’re hard as nails, you show me the soft side I saw when you buried my family. I’ll trust your judgment as always, Ben.’
The rain was now coming down in earnest, and the parched earth was getting a welcome drink. Always the rancher, Ben Tower was already thinking he might get one more crop of hay in before winter thanks to this rain, as he and Mattie went inside.
‘Well now, what on Earth. . . ?’
Ben looked up from his breakfast and saw Mattie gazing out the kitchen window. Ben stepped over to the window and peered out at the wagon pulling into the barnyard. It was Clay and Bear.
‘Hell, this is not good. It’s a two-day drive to the capital, and it has
barely been a day since they left. And where’s Roy Styles?’
Breakfast forgotten, Ben grabbed his hat and headed for the door. Mattie moved the heavy skillet off the hot stove and turned down the damper. She hung her apron on its hook and smoothed her dress before following her husband.
In the heat of the new day, mist was rising from the mud of the barnyard as Ben strode rapidly to the wagon where Bear and Clay waited.
‘It was the damnedest thing I ever saw, Boss.’ Bear shook his head.
‘Where’s Styles?’
Clay jerked his head at the wagon-bed so Ben walked to the rear and stared at the two bodies as Clay and Bear climbed down from the seat. Clay looked at Bear who began to speak.
‘We was crossin’ a dry streambed about twenty-five mile from here when we saw the smoke of a campfire and smelled coffee. It was time to spell the horses anyway, so we pulled off and was just gettin’ down when Junior Styles stepped out of the brush with a shotgun and pulled down on us.’
Mattie, who had just joined the group, gasped and turned to leave. ‘I need to see to the boys!’ Ben took her arm gently and shook his head. ‘There’s no need to worry, Mattie. Let’s hear what Clay and Bear have to say.’
‘Turned out that Junior saw us comin’ and realized we had his brother, so he braced us with that there scatter-gun and disarmed us. Roy wanted Junior to remove the irons, but Junior paid him no never-mind at all. That made Roy just awful mad, but like I said, Junior acted like he couldn’t hear him. He walked Roy over to a big oak and tied his irons off to the trunk with a piece of rope. Then he come back to the wagon and made us drive on down the road a piece with him sittin’ in the bed behind us. I figured he was goin’ to do for both of us, but after a spell, he made us get down and muttered somethin’ about waitin’ an hour before followin’ him. Then he just turned that rig around and went back.’
Bear looked to Clay for confirmation. Clay nodded and motioned for Bear to continue.