Josh Logan's Revenge

by Chimp Robertson

  “I don’t want your money,” the man said. “I want that bay horse.”

  Josh remained motionless. “Wait a minute, Mister,” he said. “I …”

  The man interrupted quickly. “Get down or I’ll blow you out of the saddle,” he said, taking aim with the eye not covered with a black patch. “You and me is gonna make a horse trade, so unsaddle him and step back out of the way unless you wanna get shot.”

  There was another agonizing silence as Josh took his saddle off of Concho and carried it over to a small scrub tree and dropped it in the shade.

  “Now toss that pistol and rifle away and sit down,” the man said as he stepped behind a small clump of trees and led a lathered up sorrel horse out to the road. He pulled his saddle off and put it on Concho and climbed aboard. “If you value this bay horse you won’t try to follow me,” he added. “Because if you do, I’ll shoot him for sure.” He rode back onto the road and headed west.

  Josh looked at the tired sorrel horse standing there with his head down, gasping for air. He picked up the reins and led him down to the water and let him drink, then tied him in the shade. He wasn’t a bad looking horse, he was just exhausted. So Josh just sat down in the shade of the tree to let him rest.

  It was still dark the next morning when he led the sorrel horse over to the road and saddled him up. He had rested and looked ready to go, so by an hour after dawn, Josh was well on his way to Encinal. When he rode into the tiny town the pens were full of cattle and the ranch hands were sorting the cattle and getting ready for a branding.

  “Hello,” he said, as he rode up to the corral fence. “I’m Josh Logan. Did a long-haired, one-eyed man come by here on a big bay horse yesterday?”

  “Yeah, he did,” the foreman said. “I’m Jake Beale. I liked that horse too, and tried to buy him, but all the man wanted here was to fill his canteen. So, how about that sorrel you’re ridin’,” he added. “Do you want to sell him? We need a few more in the remuda before we start the drive north.”

  “I can’t sell the sorrel, I need him,” Josh said. “That big bay is my horse. That man got the jump on me and stole him from me.”

  “Then where’d you get the sorrel?” Beale asked.

  “Well, he had run this sorrel down, so that’s why he wanted my bay. He left this one in his place.”

  “He ain’t a bad looker,” Beale said. “So if you catch up with the man who stole your bay, I’ll still buy that sorrel.”

  “Alright then,” Josh said. “If I catch that horse thief and ain’t too far away, I’ll bring the sorrel back here and sell him to you.”

  “Well, if it’ll help any, he was headed to Laredo and that ain’t but about twenty miles from here,” Beale said. “Since I truly hate a horse thief, me and the boys will ride into town with you and help search for him. We was wantin’ one more night in town before goin’ up the trail anyway.”

  “That’s mighty nice of you, Mr. Beale,” Josh said.

  “I ain’t no Mister, I’m just Jake,” Beale said. “And if we find that horse thief, and you still want to sell the sorrel, we’ll take him off your hands so you won’t have to bring him all the way back out here.”

  “I was on the trail of a bank robbin’ killer named Lem Olsen when I got ambushed by the one-eyed man,” Josh said. “He was part of the Wolf Gang that raised so much hell down around Victoria.”

  “What’d he look like?” Beale said. “He might have stopped by here too.”

  “He’s a big ugly man with long black hair and he was ridin’ a Paint horse,” Josh said.

  “A bank robbin’ killer on a Paint horse?” Beale said. “How ‘bout we help you look for both of ‘em. The boys need a little action before startin’ north with the herd.”

  Josh unsaddled the sorrel and turned him loose in an empty pen so he could eat and rest before going on into Laredo. A few hours later Beale and his cowboys were saddled up and ready to go.

  Beale introduced his men to Josh as they headed to Laredo. When they got in sight of town, the boys loped on up ahead. He grinned and nodded toward the two cowboys in the lead.

  “That’s Andy and Bob leadin’ the boys into town,” he said. “Bob’s alright, but Andy’s wilder than the rest of ‘em, and sometimes he gets a little too carried away with havin’ fun. Sometimes I can get Sheriff Martin Duncan here in Laredo to keep an eye on him,” he added. “Sheriff Duncan is a two-gun sheriff and don’t take no bull off nobody, but he’s usually too busy to bother with one wild cowboy.”

  Josh laughed. “Well, you know what happens when you have too much fun,” he said. “But I don’t want him gettin’ in trouble by helpin’ me.”

  “I told the boys that when we got to town to spread out and watch for that one-eyed feller who stole your bay horse, and also to keep an eye out for the big ugly man on the Paint,” Beale said. “And I told Bob if he couldn’t get Sheriff Duncan to help, to just stay with Andy and not let him go across the border. We’ll be pullin’ out early in the morning and I don’t want to have to go a huntin’ for him.”

  About midnight, everyone met back up at the Church Plaza, the main center for the city, except Andy.

  “I swear, Bob,” Beale said. “Where in the hell is Andy? I told you to keep an eye on him.”

  “Sheriff Duncan was too busy to help me, so I was keepin’ an eye on him myelf, and doin’ alright ‘till he crossed the border with a pretty little Mexican gal,” Bob said. “But you told us to not go over there, so that’s when I lost him.”

  “Is that the same one he’s gone over there with before?” Beal said.

  “Yeah, it is,” Bob said. “She’s a sprightly girl of about seventeen summers, named Carmelita Gomez.”

  “Alright then,” Beale said. “Let’s go down to the livery stable and wait on the sun to come up. I doubt if we can find him this late at night.”

  By daylight Josh, along with Beale and his men, had crossed the bridge into Nuevo Laredo and were scattered out up and down the streets looking for Andy. Josh stopped a Mexican Federale who was dragging a drunk off toward the jail.

  Josh noticed Jorge Delgadillo on the officer’s name tag. “Officer Delgadillo,” he said. “I’m lookin’ for a big ugly man, taller than most, with long black hair. Have you seen someone like that?”

  “Why are you looking for him?”

  “He’s a killer, that’s why,” Josh said.

  “We will do the killing on this side of the border,” the officer said. “We do not need gringos to do it.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s wanted in Texas, not Mexico,” Josh said. “He’s wanted for murder and for robbin’ banks and stagecoaches. That’s why I’m tryin’ to find him to take him back across the border so he won’t cause any trouble over here. I’m also lookin’ for a man with a black patch over one eye,” he added. “He’s a horse thief.”

  “Maybe you should go to work for us,” the officer said. “We need more young men like you over here to help us clean out the bad ones.”

  “Thanks, but I got plenty of bad ones right over there in Texas to clean out,” Josh said.

  Suddenly the officer’s disposition changed, and he smiled. “Alright, but don’t do any shooting over here or I’ll take you to jail like I am going to do with this drunk.”

  “Speakin’ of jail,” Josh said. “Do you have a wild young American cowboy with long blond hair in your jail?”

  “Yes, he is there,” Delgadillo said. “He was fighting someone so I put him in jail earlier this morning.”

  “I’ll pay the court cost if they’ll let him out,” Josh said.

  “No need for court,” the officer said. “Pay me and I’ll go get him for you.”

  “How much would you charge?”

  “Five hundred dollars,” Delgadillo said.

  “I’ll give you ten dollars,” Josh said.

  “Make it two hundred,” the officer said.

  “I’ll make it twenty,” Josh said.

  “Make it one hundred,” Delgadillo said.<
br />
  “Twenty and no more,” Josh said.”

  “Wait right here,” the officer said.

  A few minutes later he came down the street with Andy in tow. “Here is your cowboy,” he said. “Now where’s my twenty?”

  “Josh smiled and handed him two twenty dollar bills. “Thank you, Officer,” he said. “Come on, Andy. Your boss is waitin’ on you.”

  “He’ll fire me for sure,” Andy said. “Hell,” he added. “My little Mexican girlfriend Carmelita said that for ten dollars she’d show me where the man with the black patch on his eye was. That’s why I came over here.”

  “Did you find him?” Josh said.

  “Yeah, I found him,” Andy said. “He was in a cantina just like she promised, so I paid her and started talkin’ with him. He said he’d killed someone up in Texas and that he’d run his sorrel horse down and ambushed a man and took a good bay horse away from him. He said he’d left the bay in a stable on the Texas side. I tried to bring him back across the bridge, but we got in a fight and I got arrested.”

  “Did they arrest the one-eyed man too?” Josh said.

  “No, they didn’t,” Andy said. “We was fightin’ and when the officers broke us up, the one-eyed man pulled his gun on them so they shot him.”

  “I swear,” Josh said, thinking about something he’d heard a long time ago, that tradition says that if there’s meanness in a man, Mexico will bring it out of him. And it’ll test the patience of all others. “Alright then,” he added. “Let’s get the hell back across the border before they change their mind about lettin’ you out. We need to find where that one-eyed thief left my bay horse.”

  When the sun came up the next morning Beale and his cowboys were mounted and ready to head back to their herd at Encinal.

  “You still gonna sell me that good sorrel horse, ain’t you?” Beale asked.

  “No, I ain’t,” Josh said. “I’m givin’ him to Andy.”

  “Givin’ him to Andy?” Beale said. “Why that don’t make no sense at all. I’m offerin’ to buy him and you’re given’ him away?”

  “Mr. Beale, Andy crossed the border and found the one-eyed man who stole my bay horse,” Josh said. “The man was drunk and told Andy that Concho was in one of the livery stables over here. He helped me find him, so that’s why I’m givin’ him the sorrel.”

  “Alright, that’s fair. We need to be headin’ back to Encinal and our herd,” Beale said. “Thanks for bailin’ Andy out of jail.”

  Beale and Josh shook hands and as the cowboys turned to go, Andy rode up beside Josh and extended his hand. “Thanks for gettin’ me out of jail, and thanks for givin’ me this nice little sorrel horse.”

  “You’re welcome,” Josh said. “But you’re the one that needs thanked for findin’ the one-eyed man and for helping me find my bay horse. And also,” he added, “you need to watch your step goin’ across the border. Officer Delgadillo might not be so easy on you next time.”

  “He might not,” Andy said. “But I aim to come back and marry Carmelita when we deliver the herd to Montana. She’s the prettiest girl I ever saw.”

  There were several saloons in Laredo to check for Lem Olsen. Josh put Concho in the same livery stable where Beale and his cowboys had stalled their horses and headed up town. It was a hectic day, as most were, as he went in and out of saloons and cantinas all day long without learning anything about Lem Olsen.

  Later that night as he stood at the bar in the Placer Cantina listening to a drunk trying to talk the bartender out of a free drink, the man mentioned something about a beautiful Paint horse. Josh wondered if it might be the big Paint that Olsen had been riding.

  The bartender frowned and leaned forward and shook his head. His face remained red, and his voice angry. “This is the last time I’m gonna say it, Bert. No more free drinks. You ask me again and I’ll throw you out of here.”

  Josh took a sideways glance at the man and could tell he was desperate. “I might buy you a drink if you’ll tell me about that big Paint horse you was talkin’ about.”

  The man slowly turned his head and stared at Josh for a few moments. “What big Paint horse?”

  “The one you mentioned to the bartender,” Josh said.

  “You’ll buy me a drink?” the man said.

  “I might,” Josh said. “Where’d you see the Paint?”

  “Alright then,” the man said. “I’ll take a whiskey.”

  “Well, hold on a minute. Where’d you see the Paint horse?” Josh said.

  “Tied to the rack in front of Dendy’s,” the man said.

  “There’s two Dendys on this street,” Josh said. “So which one, the saloon or the diner?”

  “The saloon,” the man said. “They ran me out so I came over here.”

  Josh handed him a five dollar bill and turned and walked out the door. He could see Dendy’s Saloon up the street a short ways, and the big Paint was still tied to the hitch rack out front. He had just been over there about an hour ago and the Paint wasn’t there, so whoever owned him must have showed up right after he left. It was late at night and there weren’t many people on the sidewalk.

  Josh stepped over next to the big Paint horse. He was dry now, but he’d been sweaty and lathered up recently, so he picked up one of his front feet and checked the shoe. It was worn slick from covering lots of rocky country. There was an empty canteen hanging on the saddle horn, and a dusty rifle in the holster under the stirrup.

  He lifted the flap on the saddle bags and saw that it was stuffed full of cash, so he had no doubt this was Lem Olsen’s Paint horse. He led him down the street and tied him to the hitch rack in front of the sheriff’s office. The sheriff had already gone home, but Deputy Ed Henson was still on duty.

  “Hello, Deputy,” he said, as he stepped in through the front door. “I’m Josh Logan. I have a wanted poster for Lem Olsen and I believe he’s right over there in Dendy’s Saloon. Do you have a poster on him?”

  Deputy Henson picked up a stack of wanted posters and thumbed about half way through them. “No, but we got one on the Wolf Gang a few weeks ago.”

  “Lem Olsen is a member of the Wolf Gang,” Josh said. “Sheriff Riley up at Victoria had some extra ones made up on Olsen ‘cause he’s the last man left in the gang.”

  Henson looked at a few more posters before he came across one with Lem Olsen’s name on it. “Alright, here’s’ one,” he said. “Damn,” he added, “a three thousand dollar reward for one man. He must be a bad one.”

  “He is a bad one,” Josh said. “And if you come in contact with him you better be ready ‘cause he’ll shoot you for sure.”

  Deputy looked out the front door. “Is that your Paint horse tied out there?”

  “No,” Josh said. “He belongs to Olsen. And if you’ll check, his saddle bags are stuffed with cash from some of the banks he’s robbed.”

  “I better go wake up the Sheriff Duncan,” Henson said.

  “Does he live here in town or out in the country?” Josh asked.

  “He lives just at the edge of town,” Henson said.

  “Well, take that Paint horse with you and leave him at the sheriff’s house,” Josh said. “We don’t want Lem Olsen comin’ out of Dendy’s Saloon and gettin’ away on him.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Not long after Josh had led the Paint away, Olsen looked over the top of the swinging doors of Dendy’s Saloon to check on his horse and noticed him gone. He was a murderin’ crook, but he was smart enough to figure something was up, so he wheeled around and headed for the back door.

  He ran down the alley until he reached the street and followed several other men going across the bridge to Nuevo Laredo. He knew if he stole a horse on the Mexican side of the border they’d throw him in prison so he just kept walking until he was deep in the city.

  Josh went back to Dendy’s Saloon and stepped inside. This had gone on long enough, and now it was time to stop chasin’ after Olsen and come face to face with him, if he was even in there.<
br />
  He ordered a drink and scanned the crowd in the big mirror behind the bar. The bartender noticed him doing it and stopped in front of him.

  “You’re new in here,” he said. “So, who are you lookin’ for?”

  “A big ugly man with long black hair,” Josh said. “He’s loud and rough and when he’s drinkin’ he usually starts an argument or a fight.”

  “He was here,” the bartender said. “He caught my attention when he got up and walked over there and looked out the front door.”

  “Where’d he go?” Josh asked.

  “I’ll tell you for ten bucks,” the bartender said.

  Josh handed him the ten. “Where’d he go?” he asked again.

  “He ran out the back,” the bartender said. “Just a little while ago.”

  Josh stepped out the back door. One end of the ally was dark, but the other end was lit up and led to a busy street leading toward the border crossing, so he headed in that direction. He figured Olsen would try to lose himself in the crowd.

  Going in and out of the cantinas and saloons and looking behind vender’s booths, Josh caught the eye of Federale Officer Jorge Delgadillo, whose beat included both sides of the street, starting at the foot of the bridge crossing.

  “You are over here again,” Delgadillo said. “Why are you looking around so much?”

  “Hello, Officer Delgadillo,’ Josh said, politely. “Like I told you the last time I was over here, I’m looking for a big ugly man with long black hair. Remember, the killer I told you about?”

  “He was here, too,” Delgadillo said. “But you need to pay me for information. I do not work for gringos.”

  “How much?” Josh said.

  “Five hundred,” Delgadillo said.

  “That’s where you started last time we talked, but you settled for twenty, and I gave you two twenties,” Josh said. “So I’ll start with two twenties.”

  Officer Delgadillo liked Josh. He liked his attitude and his honesty. “I will take the two twenties,” he said.

  When Josh paid him, the officer just grinned and said, “He does just like you do. He goes in one cantina and saloon after another. That’s all I know.”