Confessions of a Gunfighter (22 page)

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 ain’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.

“Mr. Tomlin, 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 neither. So, I’d like to 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 here 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 mid-morning.

I had just finished topping off a bronc when Ross came loping into headquarters, hollering around 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 them 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,” Mr. Tomlin 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 sort-a responsible.

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

“Mr. Tomlin, how ’bout letting me go out after ’em 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 about this 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.”

“Yes, sir,” I said meekly.  

Within minutes we had all our gear thrown together. We saddled our horses, and by then Mrs. Tomlin and Rachel had our grub ready. We stowed the grub in our saddlebags and mounted up.

“You three be careful,” Mrs. Tomlin said, and her face was filled with worry. 

Rachel looked worried too, but she didn’t say anything as we rode out.

We rode south, with Ross leading the way. He took us to the place where he had seen the tracks, and I got down and studied them closely, just like Kinrich had taught me.  

After a few minutes, I looked up at Ross and Mr. Tomlin.

“There’s four of ’em,” I said.

“How old would you say the tracks are?” Mr. Tomin wanted to know.

“I’d say they’re no more than a day old,” I replied as I stood. “They probably came through here sometime during the night.”

I climbed back on Desperate, and then I led out. The tracks left by that many horses were real easy to follow, and we made good time. 

The tracks wandered back and forth real slow like, and that puzzled me. Now, Kinrich had always moved as fast as we could with the stolen herd, but these fellers weren’t that a-way at all. They didn’t seem to care if they were being followed, and that made me uneasy.

We rode until it got so dark that we couldn’t see, and then Mr. Tomlin called out at us to stop. 

The tracks were fresh, so Mr. Tomlin decided that we had better not chance the light of a fire. So, after we unsaddled and picketed our horses, we just sat there in the dark. And, instead of coffee, we had water from our canteens while we ate the grub that Mrs. Tomlin had packed.

We turned in early, and daylight found us saddled and riding.

There was a stream up ahead, and that’s where we found them. 

We topped out on a hill, and we could see them below us, still camped and sitting round a fire. Mr. Tomlin’s horses were on the other side of the camp, and they were bunched up beside the stream.

“Well, there they are,” Mr. Tomlin said. “Hopefully, them horses are tuckered out and won’t scatter much when the shooting starts.”

“Shouldn’t be too much shooting,” I commented dryly. “We can all shoot, and I’m sure they can too.”

I looked the horses over, and I found what I was looking for. 

“See that light colored dun? That’s Ryan Palmer’s horse,” I said.

“They don’t look worried none,” Ross said.

“No, they don’t,” I said suspiciously as I narrowed my eyes. “Palmer should know better. Unless I’m missing something, they don’t even have anybody keeping watch.”  

I looked the layout over again, and was puzzled. 

“Things just don’t look right down there,” I said as I shook my head. “Here we are, sitting out in the open, and they ain’t even seen us yet. Palmer ain’t
that
dumb.”

“What do you think?” Mr. Tomlin glanced at me.

“I don’t know,” I replied thoughtfully. “But I don’t like it. Feels like a trap.”

Mr. Tomlin narrowed his eyes. 

“Let’s go find out,” he declared. 

Chapter fifty-seven

We checked our weapons. We all had Colts, but Mr. Tomlin also had a shotgun, and he pulled it out now. 

“I ain’t never asked, but just how good are you with that six-shooter of yours?” I asked Ross as we walked our horses down the hill.

“I can hit what I’m aiming at most of the time,” Ross replied, but then added, “I reckon it also depends on how big a target I’m shooting at.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle back.

“In that case then, when the shooting starts why don’t you take that big feller over to the right.”

Ross didn’t answer. Instead, he just nodded as he eyed his target.

They spotted us when we reached the base of the hill.

My eyes searched all around us, but I didn’t see anything. Still, something didn’t feel right, and I was uneasy.  

There were three men by the fire, and they stood and spread out. Ryan Palmer was one of them, and he had an ugly grin on his face.  

I glanced at the other two, and my heart gave a slight jump with recognition. 

One of them was Roy Shaw!

The other feller was also one of Lieutenant Porter’s soldiers, but neither were in uniform.

We were getting close, so I lowered my voice. 

“We trailed four fellers here, but I’m only seeing three. We need to find that other feller before the shooting starts.”

Mr. Tomlin and Ross nodded curtly, and then we pulled in front of them.    

“Well now! If it ain’t the Button!” Palmer sneered.

My face was pointed at Palmer, but my eyes were still searching all around us. 

“You’ve got our horses,” I said bluntly. “And we’re here for ’em.”

Palmer glared at me. 

“You always thought you were a big shot, didn’t you? Well, I’m sick of hearing ’bout your fast draw and all. Things were going pretty good before you showed up, but then everybody stopped talking about me and started talking about you. Well, after I kill you we’ll see who they talk about now!” 

“Don’t try it,” I replied shortly. “I’ve always been the man that you
think
you are. I’ll kill you, Palmer, but there ain’t no need for that. All we want are them horses.”

“You boys ain’t taking nothing,” Palmer declared.

“Hate to hear that,” I replied. “’Cause you’re wrong. We’re taking back everything that belongs to Mr. Tomlin.”

“You just don’t understand,” Palmer scoffed. “I don’t care ’bout the horses none. That’s Shaw’s business. The only reason I came along was for the chance to get you.”

Palmer laughed scornfully.

“To tell you the truth, I didn’t figure you would fall for it this easy.”

It was then that, to my far left, I saw the gleam of a rifle barrel. The distance was about seventy-five yards, and the feller was hiding in some rocks.   

I narrowed my eyes thoughtfully. That feller was in behind us, and that meant I needed to get him first.

I looked back at Palmer. His eyes were hard and flat, and suddenly I saw them blink. 

In a flash my hand slapped leather, and in the same movement I desperately threw myself out of the saddle. 

As I fell I twisted in mid-air and fired three times in rapid fashion at the feller in the rocks. As I hit the ground I heard the loud thump of a bullet hitting flesh, and in the corner of my eye I saw a rifle falling to the ground.

Palmer meanwhile, had drawn his gun. He fired right as I lunged out of the saddle.

I heard the sharp whip of a bullet as it flew by my head, and then I hit the ground rolling.

Palmer fired again, and this time his bullet hit only inches from my face. It made a loud howling sound as it ricocheted into the rocks, and it sent little chips of rock and dirt flying into my face. That made my eyes sting, and I couldn’t see a thing.

I remembered there being a log a few feet behind me. So, I rolled up onto my feet and fired desperately in Palmer’s direction as I dove behind the log.     

Around me, all chaos broke loose. Soon as Palmer went for his gun everybody else did too, and bullets were flying around all over the place.

I heard Mr. Tomlin’s shotgun blasting away, and it sounded like Ross was putting up a fight too.   

I blinked and rubbed my eyes. Then I looked up.

Palmer was in front of me, and he was looking at me with a triumphant look on his face. He had his gun on me, and was just about to pull the trigger. 

But suddenly a bullet from Ross’s direction came flying in, and it struck Palmer in the shoulder right as he fired. Palmer was violently spun around, and his bullet missed me.

I stood and aimed my six-shooter at Palmer, but then I glimpsed a movement to my left. 

It was Roy Shaw.

Ross had shot Shaw, but he wasn’t finished yet. He had raised himself up off the ground, and was aiming his six-shooter at Ross.

I emptied my six-shooter in Shaw’s direction. Shaw’s body jerked wildly as he was thrown backwards, and he hit the ground dead. 

I turned back to Palmer. He had gotten up, and was running desperately over to his horse. I tried to fire my six-shooter, but then I realized it was empty. 

Ross fired a couple shots at him, but they were off target as Palmer jumped on his horse and rode out in a dead run.

All this happened in a matter of a few seconds.

I looked over at Mr. Tomlin.

He was off his horse, and was stretched out on the ground.