Josh Logan's Revenge

by Chimp Robertson

  Bates smiled a crooked smile. Sheriff Burch had warned them not to take any chances and to shoot first and ask questions later.

  “You mentioned a witness and an alibi,” he said, still not quite ready to just walk up and kill a man sittin’ by a camp fire. “Tell me your side of the story and I’ll make up my mind whether to shoot you, or not.”

  It was going to be a long night, and talking was as good a way of passing time as just sitting around, so Josh leaned back against his saddle and nodded his head.

  “I had just got back from prison for killin’ the three men who murdered my entire family,” he said. “Sheriff Burch, who was a deputy at the time, is the one who shot Sheriff Jarnigan. He put the blame on me because we like the same girl.”

  “That’s a wild damn story,” Bates said, with a crooked grin. “I might have known there’d be a girl involved.”

  “It’s the truth,” Josh said.

  Bates poured himself a cup of coffee. “Well, how’d you get out of prison, escape?”

  “I didn’t escape,” Josh said. “My dad’s old lawyer friend got me out after about eight years. It didn’t sit well with Tom Burch because he’d been tryin’ to court Ana, so that’s why he shot the sheriff and told everybody I did it. But like I said, I have a witness and an alibi.”

  “Is that her name, Ana?”

  Josh nodded, but didn’t speak.

  “I bet she’s your witness, ain’t she?”

  “Yeah, she is,” Josh said. “We was gonna be married, but Burch got me sent to prison.”

  “So what’s your alibi?”

  “Ana was with me at the time the sheriff was killed,” Josh said. “I wasn’t even in town when it happened.”

  “Yeah, well, I still don’t believe you,” Bates said. “All outlaws have an alibi of some kind.”

  An hour later, by the light of the campfire, Bates nodded off. Josh had been twisting his wrists back and forth trying to loosen the ropes that bound him. When he finally got one hand free he reached over and grabbed the rifle out of Bates’ hands. Henry Bates jumped as if he’d been stuck with a sharp stick.

  “You gonna kill me, ain’t you?” he said.

  “No, I ain’t gonna kill you,” Josh said. “Just sit right there while I go get my horse.”

  He saddled Macho and led him back. “I’ll take your horse about a mile downstream and leave him tied to a limb,” he said. “When you get back to Cestohowa, tell Sheriff Benson he’s after the wrong man. He should be chasin’ Sheriff Tom Burch, not me.”

  Bates slipped a knife out of his boot and lunged, striking Josh in his right thigh. Josh fired and Bates fell over on his back.

  “Damn you,” Josh yelled, as he struggled to get to his feet. “I was gonna let you go.”

  Josh quickly tied a handkerchief around his thigh. Then he led Bates’ horse closer and lifted him up over the saddle and tied him on and headed back to Panna Maria, the same tiny hamlet where old Juan Ramos had reset Macho’s shoe.

  Ramos was sitting on the seat of his old iron-wheeled wagon, but no horses or mules were hooked up. He was just sitting there with his head down.

  “Hello, Juan,” Josh said as he rode up beside the wagon. “Why are you just sittin’ there?”

  Juan looked up in surprise. “A man in Sheriff Burch’s posse took my mules.”

  “Why’d he do that?” Josh said.

  “He said he was looking for you,” Juan said. “I did not know you had done something wrong or I would not have told him I reset a shoe on your horse.”

  “I ain’t done anything wrong, Juan,” Josh said. “Sheriff Burch is the one who did something wrong. He killed the sheriff down at Victoria and blamed it on me.”

  “Why did he blame it on you?” Juan asked.

  “He wants me out of the way so he can steal my sweetheart,” Josh said.

  Juan nodded. “That same thing happened to me a long time ago,” he said. “A man stole my sweetheart then tried to kill me, but I killed him first. That is why I live out here in the wilderness. A sheriff is also after me. I was hoping to make enough money to go on out to California where I have relatives, but now it is hopeless.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Juan,” Josh said. “But why’d he take your mules?”

  “He knows I haul freight to make extra money,” Juan said. “So when I told him I did not know which way you went, he took my mules. He wants to use them as a way to make me tell on you. They are all I have.”

  “Did you know him?” Josh asked.

  “Yes, everybody around here knows him,” Juan said. “It was Miguel Nunez. He is a mean man. He wants to kill you to get the two thousand dollar reward that Sheriff Burch promised.”

  “When did all that happen?” Josh said.

  “Yesterday,” Juan said. Suddenly, he looked up and saw the other horse with a body tied across the saddle. “Who is that dead man?”

  “His name is Henry Bates,” Josh said. “He’s another one of Sheriff Burch’s posse. I was tryin’ to get away from him, but he stabbed me, so I shot him.”

  “What are you gonna do with him?” Juan said.

  “Who’s the sheriff here in Panna Maria?” Josh said.

  “Silas Henricks,” Juan said. “

  “Is he an honest man?”

  “Yeah, he is just an old timer like me,” Juan said. “He has been a sheriff since a long time ago. He is a good friend of mine.”

  “I’m gonna leave the dead man here with you,” Josh said as he turned to go. “Lead his horse up to the sheriff’s office and tell him Josh Logan shot him in self-defense.”

  “Where are you going?” Juan said.

  “I’m goin’ after your mules.” Josh said.

  He stopped at the one small store in Panna Maria and bought a box of cartridges, a new handkerchief, and a piece of cloth to tear into strips for the wound in his thigh. Then he went back down to the blacksmith shop where he asked Juan Ramos for a sewing needle and thread and a little whiskey. He’d learned some basic stitches for closing wounds from way back when he’d first trailed cattle.

  When he located the tracks the mules had left, he spurred Macho into a lope and followed them downstream to the small town of Helena, which boasted a livery stable, a saloon, a blacksmith shop, two hotels, and a mercantile.

  Looking through his binoculars from a small rise north of town, he spotted Juan’s mules in a pen behind the livery stable. He couldn’t tell if they were being watched or not, so staying in the trees, he made his way to the back of the stable.

  There was no feed or water in the pen and Juan’s mules were standing tied to the fence, still harnessed up. Taking a chance no one was watching, he slipped up beside the tired old mules and opened the gate, then led them out of the pen.

  “That’s far enough, Mister,” Miguel Nunez said. “Sheriff Burch said to shoot first and ask questions later, so step out from behind them mules.”

  Josh ducked down and fired from under the mule’s belly, knocking Nunez down on the seat of his pants. The old mules hardly even flinched as smoke curled up between them. Miguel Nunez kicked a couple of times then fell over on his side.

  Josh lifted him up across one of the mule’s back and tied him on, then led them back to where Macho was tied. He climbed up in the saddle and turned them all back toward Panna Maria. Stopping in front of the livery just ahead of dark, he got off and tied the mules to the hitch rack and stepped inside.

  Juan Ramos was asleep on a pile of hay, exhausted from worrying about his mules, so Josh unloaded Nunez’s body, took the harness off the mules, and put them in a pen. He fed and watered the tired old team before stirring Juan out of a deep slumber.

  “Juan,” he said, quietly. “I brought your mules are back.”

  Juan sat up and looked around. “Where did you find them?”

  “Down at Helena,” Josh said, then nodded toward Nunez. “That outlaw over there by the door is Miguel Nunez, the man who took ‘em away from you.”

  “I n
eed to go tell Sheriff Henricks,” Juan said. “Because Nunez threatened to shoot him if he tried to stop him from taking my mules.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Josh said. “I ain’t met an honest sheriff since Sheriff Burch and his posse got after me.”

  “You will meet one when you meet Silas Hendricks,” Juan said. “I am just a poor old Mexican, but he treats me like any other man.”

  “Well, that’s good to hear, Juan,” Josh said.

  “I will introduce you to him,” Juan said. “When I first met him, he was just a young cowboy like you are, and we made friends. I think you will like him.”

  Juan led the way to the sheriff’s office, stepped through the open door, and smiled a wide smile.

  “Silas,” he said. “This is Josh Logan. He is a friend of mine. He got my mules back for me.”

  Sheriff Hendricks stood up and extended his hand. “Any friend of Juan’s is a friend of mine.”

  “Thanks, Sheriff. I been wantin’ to meet you,” Josh said. “Juan said you’re an honest man, and I ain’t met one in a while.”

  Hendricks threw back his head and laughed out loud. “There’s lots of honest men around these parts,” he said. “But still yet, there’s plenty who ain’t.”

  “Them’s the kind I been havin’ trouble with,” Josh said.

  “You and me, both,” the sheriff said. “So, are you just passin’ though Panna Maria, or what?”

  “I’ll talk straight with you, Sheriff Hendricks,” Josh said. “I’m a wanted man. The sheriff down at Victoria was shot and killed and I got blamed for it.”

  “How’d all that happen?” Hendricks said.

  “The sheriff’s own deputy, Tom Burch, killed him and pinned the murder on me,’ Josh said. “I had an alibi and a witness, but it didn’t matter because I never got the chance to prove my innocence. Deputy Burch’s outlaw friends got him elected sheriff and he immediately formed a posse and offered a big reward. They’ve been after me ever since.”

  “Why’d he pin the murder on you?” Sheriff Hendricks said.

  “It’s over a girl,” Josh said. “He wants to get rid of me, thinkin’ he’ll have a better chance with her. But there’s another side to the story,” he added. “My dad took Burch’s girlfriend away from him way back when they was just young cowboys up around Austin. He’s held a grudge all these years and is takin’ it out on me.”

  Hicks nodded. “I appreciate you tellin’ me and bein’ truthful because I already heard all about it,” he said. “Sheriff Jarnigan was held in high regard throughout south Texas, and word of his murder went through this country like wildfire. He was a longtime friend of mine”

  “A couple of Burch’s men got the jump on me and tried to kill me, but I got the best of ‘em,” Josh said. “Besides Henry Bates, the man Juan brought up here earlier, I’ve another one down at the stable named Miguel Nunez.”

  “Yeah,” Sheriff Hendricks said. “I know both of them outlaws. “Henry Bates followed Miguel Nunez around like a pup, and they’ve caused a lot of trouble in these parts. I’m glad they’re out of the way.”

  Josh looked out the door then turned back to Hendricks. “It was good meetin’ you, Sheriff,” he said. “I need to go before Burch or some of his men come through here lookin’ for me.”

  “There’s a thousand dollar reward for each member of the Wolf gang,” Hendricks said. “You’ll get part of it for bringin’ in Bates and Nunez, so what do you want to do about it, leave it here?”

  “Put it in the bank and I’ll send for it later,” Josh said as he turned and walked out the door.

  He hurried back to the livery stable and led Macho outside. Juan walked over to where he was tightening his cinch and stood there for a moment before speaking.

  “Where are you goin’ now?” he asked.

  “I don’t know for sure,” Josh said. “But I need to get away from the San Antonio River. Burch has a lot of men ridin’ around in those cottonwoods lookin’ for me, and they been told to shoot first and ask questions later.

  “There’s a trail herd camped about six miles east of here that’s headed to the mines in Colorado,” Juan said. “They come by here several times a year and I haul supplies out to them. Chalky Newsome is the trail boss and he told me he was needin’ a few more hands. I’ll write you a note of introduction if you want me to. Maybe you could go north with them.”

  “Thanks, Juan,” Josh said. “That’s a good idea.”

  “They’re camped out there waitin’ on another herd to join them before startin’ on up the trail,” Juan said as he took a short pencil from his shirt pocket and carefully wrote a quick note on the back of a receipt.

  Josh shook hands with Juan, mounted Macho, and headed east. It’d been a while since he was in Colorado and he figured now was as good a time as any to go back. Anywhere would be better than riding up and down the San Antonio River with Burch’s posse on his trail.

  The sun was almost down when he arrived at the herd. A cowboy pointed out the foreman so Josh rode over and introduced himself.

  “Howdy, Mr. Newsome,” he said. “I’m Josh Logan. Juan Ramos over at Panna Maria said he hauled a load of supplies out here to you the other day.”

  “You know old Juan?”

  “I sure do,” Josh said.

  “He’s a corker, ain’t he?” Newsome said.

  “Yes, sir,” Josh said, as he handed Newsome Juan’s letter. “He’s a good man. He gave me a note of introduction and said you was lookin’ for hands.”

  “I am,” Newsome said. “You ever been up the trail?”

  “A few times,” Josh said.

  “What outfit was you with?” Newsome said.

  “Andy Watson’s,” Josh said.

  “Andy’s a friend of mine,” Newsome said, as he pushed back his hat and grinned. “If you got along with that tough old coot, you’ll get along fine with this outfit.”

  “I got along just fine with Andy,” Josh said.

  Newsome nodded. “Well, at least you look like a cowboy,” he said. “I hired a man to work on my ranch the other day that looked more like a damn outlaw than a cowboy.”

  “If you need help on your ranch, I’d be more interested in workin’ there than goin’ up the trail,” Josh said.

  “I’ll give you a job when we get back from deliverin’ this herd,” Newsome said.

  “What’s your ranch?” Josh asked.

  “It’s the Circle N,” Newsome said. “It’s about twenty miles south of here, between Charco and the San Antonio River. A friend of mine trails herds up from the coast every summer, and I take ‘em on up to the mines in Colorado. We been doin’ it that way for several years.”

  “About that fellow you hired the other day that looked more like an outlaw then a cowboy … did he come with you on this trip?”

  “Yeah, but he’s on night watch right now,” Newsome said. “You’ll see what I was talkin’ about when he gets back to the wagon in the morning and you get a look at him.”

  “I ain’t lookin’ to judge nobody,” Josh said. “I just wondered if I knew him.”

  “Alright then,” Newsome said. “Are you ready to go to work?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” Josh said.

  “Well, go on down to the wagon and get some chow,” Newsome said. “We’re waitin’ on another herd to join up with us and it’s supposed to arrive tomorrow. We’ll start north as soon as it gets here.”

  The old cook had breakfast ready a little before daylight the next morning and just as the cowboys lined up to eat, the night man rode in and unsaddled his horse.

  Bud Unruh was an ugly man with long, stringy brown hair, a disordered personality characterized by impulsiveness, lack of conscience, and a complete disregard for others. Standing over six feet tall, he was hostile, impatient, and irritable. And he held grudges.

  Even though he was an outlaw himself, Unruh had grown tired of Sheriff Burch sending him all over the country looking for Josh, so he quit the posse and signed o
n with Newsom’s crew. Just as he picked up his tin plate he noticed Josh standing off to the side with a cup of coffee in his hand, talking to three other men.

  Bud Unruh knew Sheriff Burch had added another thousand to the reward and the money blurred his senses. Three thousand dollars would go a long way in helping him get out of Texas and he was determined to get it.

  He figured it was now or never, so he dropped his plate and stepped to the center of the camp and nodded, indicating for Josh to pull back his coat and go for his gun. Suddenly there was silence.

  Before any reaction could set in, Unruh drew his pistol and fired, the bullet striking Josh in the left side, just below his elbow. Pain filled his eyes as he reeled backward, crashing to the cold, hard ground. He had been caught by complete surprise.

  As could be expected, Unruh rushed forward, moving in for the kill, his gun waiving wildly from side to side. Without delay, Josh pulled his revolver and fired point blank, not once, but three more times, knocking Unruh backward across the campfire, kicking up hot coals, dead before he hit the ground. Smoke filled the camping area as cowboys dove for cover.

  Josh unconsciously reloaded out of habit and leaned back on one elbow. He was angry, but he was also confused. Why he hadn’t been more alert and had allowed Unruh to get the drop on him, he didn’t know. But one thing he did know, and that was the fact that he was badly wounded.

  He lay still and listened. There was a pause, and at first no one tried to interfere, but trail boss Chalky Newsome stared at him hard as he stalked forward with the cook’s Winchester in his hand.

  “What the hell brought all that on?” he yelled.

  “I apologize, Mr. Newsome,” Josh said, as he staggered to his feet. “That man is Bud Unruh. He’s an outlaw that’s wanted for robbery and murder.”

  “Are you a law man?” Newsome asked. “Was you after him?”

  “I ain’t no lawman and I wasn’t after him,” Josh said. “But I know about him because he’s been after me. We just happened to be at the same place at the same time. It’s all my fault,” he added. “I should have been more aware of my surroundins’.”