“Best proposal I’ve ever had,” she said. “Now get out of here before I cry.”
“Cry?”
“People cry when they are happy, too.”
“Be back in three or four days with the wagon to load up for the drive. Thirteen men. You do some planning ahead for us. Better figure twenty five days with this larger herd.”
“I’ll do that. Now scoot.”
A half mile down the trail toward the big valley and their camp, the pain hit him hard. He kept his left arm tight against his side as he rode but the constant jarring drilled the pain through him. He moved his hand up to his shirt, pushed it between buttons, and held on to the cloth. Yes. That was better. A kind of emergency sling.
They made it to camp just before supper and got into line. They had twelve men in camp now, all except for Bill Banks. He hadn’t thought about hiring a new man. He could do that when he took the wagon in for the drive supplies.
Curley came up with a big grin.
“Hey, cowboy, we got branding. We did almost a hundred in the morning and another hundred in the afternoon. Should be all wrapped up in two more days. How is the shoulder?”
“Still hurts like hell. You got any pain medicine?”
“Deed I have. Comes in a tall bottle and works well in a glass.”
“Don’t tempt ne. This one I can live with. Any problems?”
“Not so far. Figure to butcher another calf tonight and feed up these wranglers good for the next two days. Then two meatless days on the trail. Oh, when you get trail food get a hundred pound sack of potatoes. They will last and I like to cook around them.”
“I’ll do it. Put one man out to ride night owl on the herd tonight. Use two men on six hour shifts. Find somebody with a pocket watch. I’m heading for my blanket. Missed too much sleep last night.”
The next two days went past in a rush. Sully did little but watch the branding. His arm felt better. He still sometimes used the shirt button sling. By the end of the second day they had most of the cattle branded.
“Maybe fifty head to burn tomorrow,” Curley said. “Then we’ll be ready for the trail.”
“I’ll take the wagon in tomorrow after dinner. You hold out what you want to cook for the men’s supper. Be back when I get back.”
The trip to town went well. He asked one of the new men, Paul Urick to ride along as shotgun. He was from Massachusetts and had a down east accent Sully enjoyed listening to.
They made it in to Connor’s Corner about two fifteen and went directly to the store. Annie saw them pull up outside and met them on the boardwalk.
“Well strangers. I have some great trail food for you guys. Made up some special pancake flour for you. It has sugar in it and cinnamon and some other goodies I think you all will like. Let me show you what I have laid out and then we’ll see what’s on Curley’s list.”
After several restocking the chuck wagon it became almost routine. She knew what they liked and what she had. Sully made a few suggestions and made sure to get the big sack of potatoes. When they had it all assembled she ran a bill and he paid it. Then they loaded it in the back of the chuck wagon.
“How big a herd this time?” she asked.
“A few over six hundred.”
“Amazing. You’re becoming a rich man. At even thirty dollars a head that is more than eighteen thousand dollars.”
“Just half of that is mine. It would be good if my food bill wasn’t so high,”
He ducked and she hit him on the shoulder.
“I like you even if you do complain. You have time for a hug?”
“As long as no customers come in.” The hug was warm and long ending with a firmly honest kiss.
“I know I’m not supposed to say this, but I love you, miss you when you leave, and wish that we were married this very instant.”
“How about right after this next drive?”
“You mean it?”
“Never been more truthful. Give you a month and a half to get all fancied up after the drive.”
“Yes, oh yes.” She kissed him again. “Now I have some planning to do. Get out of here so you’ll come back quicker. Go, go, go.”
He grinned going out the door. When he checked in with the marshal, the man chuckled.
“Never seen a man more sure of himself. He’s written four letters so far all to his boss in Memphis. Even gave me postage. I told him they haven’t gone out yet. Starting to tell him how angry local judges are about anything that even smells of Yankee doing. Told him this judge we have here is a southerner through and through. Fought as a Rebel. Might not even want to hear anything that a U.S. Marshal has to say. Might just order the jury to render a guilty verdict.”
Tracey shook his head. “Tracey said that couldn’t happen. By any trial time he would have a Marshal’s office lawyer here to defend him.”
“Hold on to those letters,” Sully said.
“Don’t worry. I will. Might get me in trouble but I been there before. Like the way you work, young man. Doing this town good. How many damn cows you sold so far?”
“This drive will make it about a thousand.”
“Lordy, lordy. If I knew there were that many out there I would have climbed on a horse myself.”
“Don’t. Afraid we’re going to have some competition soon enough.” They waved and Sully aimed the chuck wagon south.
They were half way back to the big valley when the first shots came. Sully saw three riders ahead of them galloping hard for the wagon. Then a shot from behind and two more riders showed. He wasn’t sure if they were hand guns or rifles. No way could the draft horse and wagon out run the sleek cow ponies the raiders would have. He yelled at Kentuck to come back from his front lead spot. Sully stopped the wagon, tied the reins holding the horse on tight, then Kentuck tied his mount to the rear. They both slid under the wagon wheels with their rifles out and a good supply of extra rounds.
“We take them out anyway we can,” Sully said. “Shoot for the horses first.”
Then the front riders were coming hard with their revolvers spitting flames. Sully thought he was back in the war. He took careful aim at the first rider’s horse and fired two shots.
Chapter Twenty-One
Out of the corner of his eye, Sully saw the horse he aimed at stumble and go down. He shifted his sights to the next rider, snapped off one shot, pulled the lever for a new round and drilled another hot lead slug into the rider. This one hit something vital, the rider sagged to the right, and fell off the horse. Now both mounts turned and raced back the way they had come. The third rider coming toward the wagon darted one way, then the other, turned, and chased the unmounted horses.
The two riders coming up behind the wagon were farther away but they must have seen the fate of the two ahead of the wagon. Now they slowed, made a sweeping turn as both men under the wagon fired at them. No hits on men or horses. A moment later they had ridden out of sight over a small rise.
Kentuck looked at Sully. “Why attack a chuck wagon?”
“One good reason. Just part of an outfit that is planning on rustling the herd of six hundred. What good is a herd without a chuck wagon full of food for the crew? We better get back to the camp pronto.”
They pushed the pace and arrived at a little after four o’clock. Everything looked normal. The branding evidently was finished. The fires were out. Curley came out of the tent and waved.
“Put her right there where she’s been,” he said.
Sully backed the wagon in near the cooking fire and waved at Curley.
“You had any trouble around here today?”
Curley shook his head. “Just with one steer that refused to let us burn him. We turned him loose and he took off like a wounded buffalo.”
Sully called the men together. They had been resting and working on equipment.
“We may have a problem.” He told them about the attack on the wagon and why. “So we are going hunting again. I figure if they could put five riders on the wagon th
ey must have ten more in camp waiting to strike. Their man would get back before we got here. So they may be worried. We will mount up and do a sweep up this side of the next ridges over. Watch for smoke. They may want to fight and they may run. Be up to them. Rifles and a hundred rounds. We ride in ten minutes while it’s still daylight.”
They did.
Sully led the line of ten men spread out across the side of the finger ridge. He left three in camp as guards and told them to be on high alert. They moved up the side of the ridge and fond nothing. But when they rode over the ridge to work down to the valley on the far side, Sully saw smoke at once. Looked like several small smokes coming from the trees in the up slope of the ridge across the two hundred yard valley.
He held his men on this side of the ridge.
“Smokes over there. Four or five of them. Cold be cooking fires. We move up to the top of this ridgeline and it’s twenty yards to the top of that next ridge over. We can stay under cover as we move over there. Then we spread out again and work silently down the slope until we see them or they see us and the fun begins.”
“We shoot to kill,” one man asked.
“If they shoot, we shoot. Only one reason they are camped out, going to rustle our herd. Can’t let them do that.”
They rode as silently as they could over to the next ridge and spread out on this side heading down. Sully waved and they walked forward down the slope cautiously.
Soon Sully could hear a rumble of men’s voices and laughter. He edged the line forward. Through a thin spot in the trees and brush he saw the first fire with four men lounging around it. He brought up his rifle and put a round into the men’s fire. It sparked and flamed and the men jolted upright. They were thirty yards away.
“Down on your bellies,” Sully roared. “Down or die where you stand.”
Three of them dove to the ground. The fourth dodged to the left and darted behind a tree. Sully sent in two men to pick up the men’s rifles and six-guns, then he told them to run into the woods and get lost.
Sully moved the line toward the next fire. This time there was no surprise. Sully figured they were still thirty yards away from the next smoke when a voice bellowed through the trees.
“We see you. We know who you are. We have rifles too and can pick you off one by one. Turn and ride away or we start shooting.”
“Fire,” Sully roared and the ten rifles blasted into the area where the smoke had come from. There was no return fire.
“Christ, I’m hit,” a voice screamed from the brush ahead.
“Me, too,” another voice called.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” a third voice brayed.
Sully and his men could see movement in the woods ahead. Soon they heard saddle leather creaking. A horse whinnied. Then more sounds as the riders angled for the open valley.
Sully moved his men to the edge of the woods where he could see down slope. He counted eight mounted men riding hard down the valley.
“Everyone put two rounds over their heads,” Sully ordered. The rifle fire came quickly and below the ten mounts broke into a faster gallop, hit the end of the slope, and raced away east into the Big Valley. They turned away from the direction where Sully’s camp was and kept riding.
Sully moved his men down where he could see them and they would be rustlers kept going until they were out of sight still heading east.
“Fifteen men at least,” Sully said. “No wonder they wanted our full chuck wagon.”
“Wonder where they came from?” Curley asked.
“Gunsight be a good guess,” Sully said. He was working out a plan for guards when it turned dark. A chance the bunch could come back. They had at least one dead and two or three wounded. They might not but he had to be ready.
By the time they got back to their camp Sully had his guards all worked out. He would put two men around the herd, two around the camp and wagon, and a fifth out about half a mile in the valley to the east. Anyone coming in would have a tough time. He got the men fed late, put the first five men on guard until midnight. Then they would be replaced. Nobody grumbled. If this herd didn’t get through to Dallas, they would not get paid. They would be alert.
It was a quick supper and quiet evening. Sully stayed up until midnight and sent the next five guards out to replace the first five. They came in and reported everything was quiet.
“Nothing moving out there but night birds and a few lizards,” Wander Wilson said. He had been on the half mile outpost.
Sully hit his blankets in the tent not thinking he would sleep a wink.
He woke up at dawn, rolled out of his blankets, grabbed his boots, and hurried outside. The five guards straggled in after unsaddling their mounts. All reported total silence on the Big Valley floor. Sully decided. They would start the drive east at noon. Give everyone some sleep, time to get the cattle underway, and he hoped out of the danger zone of any more rustlers.
They got the drive stated about one o’clock that afternoon. They opened the wire gate in the big pen and moved the animals out in a line of eight to ten wide. Most of the cows and steers were ready to make a move. A few strayed and were brought back in line. It took a half hour to get the cattle strung out and moving east. Curley had taken off right after noon chow.
“Find a bedding down place out about five miles,” he told Sully. “Should have supper ready by the time you guys get there.”
Sully had one man leading the head of the line, four riders on each side of the herd to keep them in control, and three men riding drag to grab any strays that got away from the line men. All went according to plan. They let the cattle drink at a small creek, then pushed on ahead where Sully could see smoke coming out of a small grove of trees and brush. Either trouble or Curley. He rode ahead and quickly saw the chuck wagon and Curley waving. He went back to the herd and kept them moving.
An hour later they wound the cattle around in a rough circle and let them bed down for the night. Some of them bawled for water, but there was none at this stop.
They had baked beans, mashed potatoes with bacon gravy, and half portions steaks from the calf they had butchered before. Lots of good coffee topped the supper
“Always like to feed the crew good first day out,” Curley said. “Gets us off to a good start.”
By the time it got dark, Sully had two lookouts on duty. One a quarter of a mile on east of the herd and another one that far west. He expected no trouble, but he was taking no chances. One man rode herd, going around and around watching for any trouble especially for a pack of hungry wolves trying to carry off a calf.
Sully tended the small fire at the front of his blankets until ten o’clock. He had made certain that the herd rider had a watch. He would roust three new men to take over guard from midnight to dawn. He pulled off his boots and took off his shirt. Then he put out the fire. He needed a good sleep.
The next day things settled down. Sully had found a gnarled old steer who worked as the lead animal. He looked like he wanted the job. Sully pushed the herd a little. He wanted to make at least fifteen miles a day. It could be done if none of the rivers was rain swollen.
After that first day it settled into a routine. They butchered a calf on the third night and ate well from then on. Curley found new things to do with meat now that he had the little grinder. He had whooped with joy when Sully showed it to him.
At the turnoff for Fort Worth twelve days later, Sully took a ride into the stock yards.
“Nope, can’t take six hundred,” the buyer at the yards told him. He was a stout man with a full beard and glowing dark eyes. “Can take three hundred off your hands for thirty three a head.”
“Sold,” Sully said. “Cut them out and have them here before dusk.”
He rode back to the herd, had the men cut out three hundred and moved them the four miles up the trail north toward Fort Worth. Curley finished supper, and saw the rest of the herd bedded down for the night.
At the stock yards the lead man got the animals
counted just before dark.
“Three hundred and twelve” the man on the chute said. “Gypsy won’t mind the extra twelve.”
He didn’t and counted out the $10,688 all in hundreds. Sully put the bills in his money belt and went out a side door in case any robber was waiting for a just paid drover. He saw nobody and rode back to camp with the six men who came with him.
When they made it into Dallas the next day the market was down.
“Only give you thirty dollars a head,” the buyer said. “Had a herd in three days ago.”
Sully was trapped. He had just lost twelve hundred dollars by not selling them all at Fort Worth. But Fort Worth didn’t want the other 300. He took the deal and got the cattle through the counter into the pens.
“Two hundred and ninety nine,” the head counter said. He wrote out a bill of sale and gave it to Sully.
“You been here before. Same paymaster out there in building four.”
They collected their $9,000 from the pay master and split it before putting it away in their money belts.
That night all twelve of them ate in style in a good restaurant in Dallas, then grabbed hotel rooms to get in a bed for a change. Two of the men told Sully they were moving on.
“Trying to find a long range drive,” one said. “Like to find somebody moving a starter herd from here up to Wyoming or Montana.”
“Good luck and thanks for your good work with us.” Sully gave them each the thirty five dollars promised plus a bonus of five dollars each.
“Yeah,” one of them said. “Drinking money.”
Sully and Curley were having a cup of coffee in a small café next to their hotel when a stranger in a good suit and white shirt came up to them. He had a smile a mile wide, a neatly trimmed moustache, and flashing green eyes. He held out his hand to Sully.
“Ed Casemore. I’m with a new rail line coming into town in a few weeks. We’re looking for cattle to move up north to market. You men look like drovers. You in the beef business?”
“We are in the business. How much are you paying per head?”
“Not my job, but I hear the price at the rail head will be three dollars more than anyone here in Dallas is offering.”
The Devils Gunslinger Page 14