Wanted: A Western Story Collection

by Robert J. Thomas

  “The train should be here in about an hour,” Jered Knowles, the agent, said.

  They loosened the cinches on their saddles, put the horses in the holding corral, and carried their rifles with them as they sat on the dock of the depot waiting for the train’s arrival.

  Horse noticed a man with a black leather bag that was approaching a woman with a child and was selling something. She shook her head no and walked away.

  “What yah selling?” Horse asked the man.

  “Ah, I’m glad you asked. I have a sure cure for a toothache,” he said as he pulled a small bottle from his bag. “I have Cocaine Toothache Drops. It’s an instantaneous sure cure. It’s produced by the Lloyd Manufacturing Company of Albany, New York. You can possess this marvelous cure for a toothache for only fifteen cents.”

  “You don’t say,” Horse said as he looked at the picture on the bottle of a little boy and girl picking berries. “What do you do, drink it?”

  “Oh heavens no. You merely apply a few drops of the cocaine on the gum around the sore tooth and instantly the pain goes away.”

  “You don’t say,” Horse said as he smiled. “I’ll take one if I have fifteen cents,” he said as he dug into his pocket. “All I’ve got is two-bits.”

  “Well…., I happen to have a dime,” the medicine man replied as he took the quarter out of Horse’s hand and gave him a dime.

  “Would you care for a bottle, gentlemen?” He asked as he looked at the others.

  “No,” Ben said. “Does it work on sore muscles or bullet wounds?”

  “Oh no, sir. It numbs the feelings around the tooth.” He looked at Horse and said, “Don’t overuse it. Just a drop or two is all you want to use. It’s a potent medication. Where can I find your doctor’s office?”

  Ben pointed, “That way about a quarter of a mile you’ll see a building with the doctors’ names on the shingle.”

  “Thank you kindly, gentlemen,” he said as he turned and walked away.

  “Horse,” Ben said as he looked at him. “I wouldn’t put that stuff in my mouth. It might kill yah.”

  Horse chuckled. “I think I’ll try it on my landlady’s dog. If he doesn’t go into convulsions or dies, I’ll try it the next time I get a toothache.”

  Ty laughed. “What are you going to tell the landlady if the dog dies?”

  “Nothing, I never liked the dog anyway.”

  The train whistle could be heard in the distance. Horse put the bottle in his shirt pocket and buttoned the pocket.

  The train coasted into the Denver depot amid a gushing of steam and black smoke rolling from the chimney stack.

  Ben had the men wait until the other passengers had unloaded from the train. He watched to make sure the horses were loaded before mounting the train. They moved forward to the bar car and sat around a table. They ordered a mug of beer and waited for the bartender to leave before they started talking.

  Horse grinned and looked at the man setting the beer mugs on the table. “Say, do you have a toothache?”

  He looked at Horse and said, “No.”

  “If you do, let me know. I got a sure cure,” he said as he smiled.

  Duke chuckled. “Horse is trying to find someone to test his cocaine toothache medicine on.”

  Ben opened the map of the area. “Okay, these are the twin-mountains known as the Spanish Peaks. They say they are visible for miles.”

  Duke asked, “What are they mining?”

  “I don’t know. It could be gold, silver, or maybe coal. I have a feeling La Veta is nothing more than a stagecoach stop. We’ll find out when we get there. When we get to Pueblo, we’ll stop and talk to Sheriff Willard Connors, and maybe he can fill us in on what to expect.”

  “Yeah,” Horse said as he smiled, “Maybe he knows someone with a toothache.”

  Duke asked, “Is that all you can think of, Horse?”

  “Oh, no. I remember a few years ago we stopped in Walsenburg. There’s a café there with an Indian woman by the name of Buffalo Calf Woman. She had Vinegar Pie for desert, and man was it good.”

  “Yeah,” Ben said, “I remember the last time we stopped, and you asked her about it. She said she remembered you, and you’re the only man that she knew that has ever liked it.”

  They ordered another round of beer, and then they walked to an empty seat on the train and tried to get some sleep. The wood smoke from the train’s chimney drifted through the cars, and they made sure the windows were closed in the train car to cut down on the smoke.

  They arrived in Pueblo the next morning. They stepped off the train and waited for their horses. They saddled the horses and rode to a café for breakfast. After eating, they rode to the sheriff’s office and entered.

  “Howdy, Willard,” Ben said as he stepped in and the others followed.

  “Well…., Ben. It’s good to see you, men, again,” he said as he stood and shook their hands.

  “What’s going on in La Veta?” Ben asked.

  “Well…., it started out as an argument over a card game. The argument escalated into a fistfight, and then they wrestled over a gun. The gun went off, and one of the men was gutshot and died two days later. It wasn’t an intentional killing, and they say the man that was killed is the one that pulled the gun. Both men were miners, and they had been friends. One of the mining bosses talked to witnesses, and it was determined that it was an accidental killing.”

  “A few weeks later,” Sheriff Connors said as he continued, “A gunman shows up. The man’s name that was in the fight was Henry McAllister. Turns out, there are several men by the name of Henry that are mining. The gunman overhears someone calling Henry Whittle, Henry, and the gunman accused him of killing his brother, told him to go for his gun, and shot him. Henry Whittle didn’t even carry a gun. He was murdered in cold blood.”

  “The miners started yelling at the man and told him that Henry Whittle didn’t kill his brother. It was another man by the name of Henry. With a bunch of miners in the saloon, he left town.”

  “The next day another stranger wearing a pistol shows up in La Veta. Some miners assumed he was the vigilante, so they took him out of town and hung him. Later, they found out he was a rancher from Arizona looking for livestock to buy.”

  “A few days later, the vigilante returned and was asking the bartender for the last name of the man that had killed his brother when three miners came in. They started yelling at him, and one of the men left to go get help. The vigilante got mad, drew his gun, and shot them both.”

  “Is the vigilante still around La Veta?”

  “They say he is. One miner was stopped about a half mile out of town two days ago. The vigilante demanded to know the man’s identity, and how to find the man that shot his brother, and where he was at. The miner either didn’t know, or wouldn’t tell, and the vigilante beat him near to death.”

  Ty asked, “Do you think the miner knew his name?”

  “There’re over fifty mines in the area employing over three hundred men. I don’t know if he knows him or not. No one is getting rich, but they’re finding traces of gold in different locations, and a few miners have found coal. One miner even claims to have found an enormous tooth of some prehistoric animal.”

  “How far is La Veta from Walsenburg?”

  “Oh…., I figure it’s about fifteen or sixteen miles. It takes me two days on horseback to ride from Pueblo to La Veta.”

  Ben folded his map. “Is there anything else that you can tell us that we should know?”

  “You’ll have a hard time getting anyone to talk. Every time someone talks, another person dies. So they just don’t know anything. They don’t even know who hung the rancher. They say that the vigilante guy is really fast with his pistol. So be careful.”

  “Hey, Willard,” Horse said as they started to leave. “Do you know anyone with a toothache?”

  “No, why do you ask?”

  “I bought this toothache medicine, and I wanted to try it out on someone.”

&n
bsp; “Yeah,” Bridge said, “He wants to find out if it kills them.”

  “Come on, Horse,” Ben ordered. “You bought the stuff. You use it.”

  They mounted their horses and headed south on the old wagon trail. The dirt road was badly rutted from the wagons and stagecoaches that had traveled it for some years. They rode single file in the center of the road to avoid hurting the horses’ legs in the ruts created by the wagon wheels.

  The sun was setting over the western mountains when they came to a stream that they had camped at two years ago.

  They made camp and built a fire. Soon, they had coffee perking, had heated three cans of beans, and added a pound of dried pork.

  After eating, they settled down for the night and took turns standing watch.

  Ty was on watch at 3:00 A.M. when the horses began to act nervous. He walked over to calm them and heard the screeching growl of a mountain lion. The lion continued its deep-throated warning. It caused the hair on Ty’s neck to raise. He worked the lever of his rifle to put a shell in the chamber. The horses began to jerk on the ropes to make a run for it.

  “Alright you son-of-a-bitch,” Ty muttered under his breath. He fired his rifle four times in quick succession in the direction of the sound. The growling stopped, and he could hear something running through the brush.

  The men came running with their guns. “What is it?” Ben asked.

  “It was a mountain lion. The horses were acting up. I came over to calm them, and the lion began growling and snarling at me, so I shot in the direction of the sound. I heard him running through the brush after I shot. I guess he decided I wasn’t going to be scared away.”

  They calmed the horses, and Duke walked over and added some wood to the fire and built a pot of coffee. No one could sleep after that, so they sat around, drinking coffee and chewing on hardtack. They rolled cigarettes and smoked before saddling the horses.

  Ben wanted to wait until the sun began to rise before heading out. “I don’t want the horses slipping in the ruts and injuring their legs.”

  When the sun began to illuminate the landscape, they took a short walk into the brush to see if Ty had hit the cougar.

  Horse stepped back to join the men and said, “I found two bullet holes in trees, some tracks, but no blood or hair.”

  Ty looked up towards the mountains and said, “He’s probably lying up there someplace watching us. I can feel his eyes on me.”

  “Okay,” Ben said, “Let’s head for Walsenburg.”

  They continued riding single file in the center of the road and arrived in Walsenburg at 11:00. After the long journey, the men were relieved to see a town.

  “Hey,” Horse said as he pointed. “Let’s stop and eat here at the café. I hope Buffalo Calf Woman is working.”

  They stopped at the café and entered. Horse was the first one in. “Hey, Buffalo Calf Woman, how yah been?” Horse shouted when he saw her behind the counter stirring a pot of food.

  She looked at him and frowned as the cook walked from the back room.

  They took a seat, and she brought five cups and filled them with coffee.

  “What’s your special today?” Horse asked.

  “Raccoon Stew,” she answered.

  “What else do you have?” Bridge asked.

  “Raccoon Stew,” she answered.

  “You got any beef steaks?” Duke asked.

  “Raccoon Stew,” she said as she looked at him showing signs of becoming annoyed.

  “We’ll take five bowls of raccoon stew,” Ben said when he noticed she was becoming agitated.

  She brought them the stew and sat a plate of hard fry bread on the table with a dish of homemade butter.

  The stew had onions and potatoes. After sampling it, Ben said, “This is pretty good.”

  Horse ate three bowls of the stew and over half of the hard fry bread. She came to pick up his bowl, and he asked, “What’s for dessert? You got any of that Vinegar Pie?”

  “Red bean pie,” she answered.

  “Bring me a big slice,” Horse replied as he winked at her.

  After eating, they paid for the meal and mounted their horses. They took the southwest wagon trail, and two hours later they walked their horses into the small community known as La Veta.

  It consisted of a coach house, two barns, a saloon, dance hall, and brothel combo, and a small store. Two miners had just left the store and were leading their burrows away. They looked suspiciously at the lawmen riding by as they walked out of town.

  Ben stopped in front of the saloon, and after they had tied their horses to the hitching rail, they entered the Gold Bar and Dance Hall Saloon.

  For such a small community, the saloon appeared large. Ben figured it must have been built to accommodate the hundreds of miners in the Cuchara Valley.

  “Howdy,” Ben said as he walked to the bar. “Are you the owner?”

  “No, I’m Aaron Hawks, the bartender. What can I do for you?”

  “Were you here the night Henry McAllister killed another man?”

  “Who are you?” Aaron asked distrustfully.

  “We’re U.S. Deputy Marshals out of Denver. We want to hear what happened. We also need to find the vigilante that killed Henry Whittle.”

  “Yeah, you and about 300 other miners.”

  “Where can I find Henry McAllister?”

  “The miners have him hidden away someplace. No one knows where he’s at, and the ones that do won’t talk.”

  “Any idea what the vigilante feller’s name is?”

  “His brother that was killed was Ray Madison. I never got the vigilante’s first name. But since they’re brothers, I would assume his last name is Madison.”

  Aaron, the bartender, looked around. There were a dozen miners in the saloon. They were eyeing the U.S. Deputy Marshals, and some were getting nervous. To avoid trouble, he shouted out to the men in the bar. “These men are U.S. Deputy Marshals. They’re looking for Henry McAllister and the vigilante. Who knows where one or the other are at?”

  “Marshal,” Aaron said. “I was here, and I saw the fight. Henry McAllister didn’t kill him on purpose. Ray Madison was playing poker and was losing. He accused the men at the table of cheating. Henry told Ray to knock it off and to go back to camp and sleep it off. Next thing we knew, Ray pulls a gun, and Henry, sitting next to him, tried to take the gun away from him. In the struggle, the gun went off. It was an accident. Henry McAllister is a good man and has never caused any trouble.”

  “I’m sure it was an accident, but we need to get his side of the story. If it’s as you say, he won’t be arrested. But I need his written and signed statement, and I need it signed by witnesses.”

  “Look,” one of the large miners said that walked over to Ben. I heard what you said. But Henry is hidden away. If he shows himself, that vigilante fella will kill him.”

  “How big is Henry McAllister?”

  The miner asked, “Why do you want to know that?”

  “I want to flush the vigilante out of hiding. If you miners spread the word that Henry McAllister is here in the saloon, he’ll hear about it and come to the bar. You can spice the story up a little by saying, Henry McAllister heard about the vigilante and is wearing a gun and is waiting for him to show up. Which of us five are closest to his size?”

  The large miner looked at the five and said, “He’s closer to your height, but he’s a little broader in the shoulders.”

  “Well….,” Ben explained. “These four will be playing cards. I’m going to sit up here at the bar and brag about killing the vigilante’s brother. How many miners know what Henry McAllister looks like?”

  “I’d say sixty to eighty men. It’s the men he works with.”

  “Would you be one of those men?”

  “Might be, ain’t saying.”

  “What’s your name?’ Ben asked.

  “Bruce Adams, friends call me Brick.”

  “May I call you, Brick?”

  “You ain’t a friend.”


  “Okay, Mr. Adams. For Henry McAllister’s safety, keep him out of sight. I’ll play Henry McAllister. I want you to spread the word that I was fired. I took my gold money, bought some new duds, cleaned up, bought a new gun and holster, and I’m waiting on the no account vigilante that got me fired, and I plan to kill him in a fair fight, just like I did his no-account brother.”

  “He’s mighty fast with his pistol. He shot two men the other night. He drew and fired so quickly that they never even cleared leather.”

  “They were miners, not U.S. Deputy Marshals. When the vigilante comes in looking for me, I’ll identify myself and order him to surrender. If he goes for his gun, I’ll kill him. These four men will be playing cards over there at that table close to the door. When he appears, he will have no choice but to surrender. He’ll be taken to Denver, tried, and hung. After we arrest him, I need to get Henry McAllister’s written statement signed by Henry and the people that witnessed the fight. The written statement will need to be taken back to Denver with me.”

  “What about Henry?”

  “If it’s as I was told, it’s an accidental killing. No charges will be filed.”

  “You mean that?”

  “I sure do, Mr. Adams.”

  The large miner looked at Ben and said, “Call me Brick.”

  He turned and walked back to the table. “C’mon boys, let’s get back to the mine. We got work to do.” Brick and the men slugged down their drinks and headed for the door. Brick turned and looked at Ben. “You’d better be ready. He won’t give you a chance to shoot him.”

  “Thanks, Brick. I’ll be ready.”

  After the men had left, Ben looked at Aaron. “I’ll be sitting at the far end,” he said as he pointed. “Do you have any empty whiskey bottles?”

  “Yeah, I got a few,” he replied.

  “Fill two with water. Horse, Ty, Duke, and Bridge will be sitting at that table. They’ll have a whiskey bottle filled with water. Do you have any food coloring?”

  “Yeah, I can squeeze some beetroot or cherries into the bottles to give them some color.”

  “The cherries will work fine. Give the men a stack of poker chips and a deck of cards. When we’re finished, we’ll give them back. Set my bottle under the counter. Every time you fill my glass use the colored water bottle. Just remember to keep calling me Henry. I want everyone that comes into the bar to think I’m Henry. I’ll be bitching about losing my job and how sick and tired I am of hearing about the vigilante, and what I plan to do to him next time he shows his face.”