Soul of a Gunslinger

by Jim Cox

  When Lefty and Suzan got out of hearing range, Louise scolded her husband for his actions, “You ought to be ashamed of yourself James Hideman for embarrassing Suzan with those intimate remarks. They haven’t been married long enough to be comfortable with comments like that.”

  “Maybe not,” Hide said, “but if they ain’t, it’s time they get used to it.” Louise only shook her head and started peeling potatoes. While Louise busied herself around the fire, Hide sat with coffee in hand watching his wife’s every move in her tight fitting shirt and pants showing her sexy slim body with curves in all the right placed. When his cup was empty, Hide spoke up, “Hurry up and fry those potatoes and bacon, Louise; as soon as Lefty and Suzan gets back, we’ll be heading for the river.” Louise’s eyes beaded a bit, but then a smile crossed her face.

  The plates of potatoes and bacon were cold when Lefty and Suzan got back.

  »»•««

  A little past high noon the next day, Lefty and his clan with their three pack-mules tethered behind rode up the main street of Sutter’s Fort toward the livery on the north end of town.

  “Howdy, Bert,” Lefty said, calling to the liveryman who sat in his tilted back chair with his hat pulled over his eyes. Lefty climbed down and circled Star’s rein around the hitch rail a couple of times.

  The holster came alive, pulled his hat in place and said, “What brings you back here so early in the year?” Then looking at the travelers with him, he continued, “I see you brought some help with you this time; you even fetched Suzan back with you.”

  “We got hitched back in San Francisco three weeks ago.”

  “I never figured she’d marry an ugly cuss like you. She could do a lot better, as pretty as she is. Who’s those other two you brought along?” Bert asked, looking at the two strangers.

  “That’s Hide and Louise Hideman. Hide’s my partner. We started out together from southwest Texas for the California gold fields over a year ago. The lady is his wife, Louise. They ain’t been married but a little over three months.”

  There was a bit of silence, and then Lefty said, “We don’t want it spread around, but we’re to meet several men here with mules. They’re to help us with a project I’ve got going on north of here in the mountains.”

  Bert smiled and said, “I figured you’d found a strike from the way you acted when you came through last time. I suppose you want to leave your horses and mules with me while you wait for your helpers?”

  “That’s right, and the four of us would like to bunk in your livery. The place the town calls a hotel ain’t fit for women.” Bert nodded, giving his approval, and then waved for the others to climb down.

  “I’ve got coffee on the potbelly inside the livery. Why don’t we pour a cup and get acquainted?”

  The horses’ and mules’ gear were removed and put in a storage area. Afterward, the animals were placed in the coral where seven other horses and five mules roamed. Barrels of water and racks of dried grass lined the coral’s rail fence. Bert led the couples to two horse stalls which would be their quarters while staying with him, “This is the best I have for ‘ya. You’ll have to fork out the manure piles and clean the stalls, maybe spread some fresh bedding on the floor.”

  After the men had cleaned and prepared the stalls, the women got their personal items and started unpacking. While that was taking place, Bert motioned for Lefty to follow him to the front, out of the other’s hearing. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of the women, but four of the men you’re waiting for are already here, and that ain’t all. They’ve been in the saloon for the last two days getting all liquored-up and telling folks about your gold. They’re telling you have so much gold, it’ll take eight mules to haul it back to San Francisco. They only brought four mules with them, so there must be more men coming with mules.”

  Lefty shook his head in disgust and said, “I ain’t ever met ‘em, Bert. A banker in San Francisco made all of the arrangement and hired eight of ‘em. They were told to keep the whole matter under their hats and not do any talking about the gold.”

  “That might be what they were told, but they ain’t following orders.”

  “Thanks, Bert. I’m glad to have the information, so I can adjust my plans to it. Is there anything else I should know about those four?”

  “Yaw,” he said. “They look like hoodlums to me. I wouldn’t trust nary-a-one of ‘em as far as I could throw a plow horse.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The next three days went by slowly for Lefty and his clan. Their horse-stable living quarters were not very conducive to stay in. The manure and urine smell were a bit repulsive to the women, but they were getting accustom to it and were able to sleep soundly lying on the fresh grass bedding. There wasn’t enough work to keep the women and men busy who were accustomed to a sunrise to sunset work schedule. All four spent an afternoon at the mercantile buying food items to replenish what they’d used on the trip and shopped for a few personal items. Suzan and Louise spent time in Bert’s kitchen, even though it was small and rather crude, cooking their meals and making pastries.

  Lefty and Hide spent time taking care of their stock and talking with men along the boardwalk benches and saloon about the area’s happenings. During the second afternoon in the saloon, Lefty and Hide met John Jerkins and the three other men who were hired by the bank in San Francisco. John seemed to be the crew’s leader and did most of the talking. After a short period of small talking, Lefty began warning John and his men. “I hear you and your men have been getting all liquored-up and spreading the word about my gold that you’ll be hauling back to Frisco for me. If I hear of any more talk from you about my gold, you might as well head back to Frisco ‘cause you ain’t coming along with me. Do you understand me, John?”

  John took on a side-ways grin, gave an unconvincing nod, and said, “I ain’t accustomed to taking orders from nobody and I ain’t gonna start now. It may be your gold but I ain’t taking no orders from you about the job. As far as us getting all liquored-up, as you call it, we ain’t gonna stop our drinking and what we say ain’t none of your business.” Lefty started to challenge John about his comments, but Hide grabbed Lefty’s arm and pulled him away.

  When they got outside, Hide said, “We’ve got a serious problem with that bunch of hoodlums in there, Lefty, but there ain’t no need trying to solve it face-to-face with ‘em at this time. We need to make plans about what we should do.” Lefty nodded, knowing Hide was offering good advice.

  That evening after the supper dishes had been cleaned and coffee poured for the five sitting around Bert’s table, Lefty started, “Me and Hide were in the saloon today and had a confrontation with four hoodlums who the bank sent to help us. They said they’d never taken orders from anyone before and they weren’t gonna start now, even though we owned the gold they’d be hauling. Me and Hide believe they’re a problem and won’t be nothing but trouble for us. More-than-likely even try to kill us and steal our gold.”

  Bert started to stand as he said, “This is a private discussion. I’ll go have a look at the stock while you folks do your talking.”

  “Stay seated, Bert,” Lefty said. “We trust you and know you ain’t gonna spill the beans. Besides, we welcome your advice on what to do in the matter.” Bert nodded.

  There were several minutes of discussion on various ways to go about eliminating the hoodlums before Louise said, “What would you do Bert? How would you go about solving the problem?”

  Bert thought on the matter for a spell and then said, “I’d be ready to head out as soon as the inspector gets here, which you say should be in the next day or two. And then, when those hoodlums get all liquored-up in the afternoon, I’d head out.” Bert smiled and continued, “I’ll help you out by going to the saloon and act like I’m drinking with ‘em, pretending to get drunk. When they get fall-down drunk and most likely stay in a stupor ‘til morning, I’ll come back here and tell ‘ya. You can take the four mules they brought along if you think yo
u can handle ‘em, and head out on the east trail out of town. It’s the route most miners take when they leave town heading for the gold fields, and it’s muddy and full of tracks. The hoodlums would never be able to follow you.” Eyes rounded the table, and each one of the clan gave a nod.

  “Thanks, Bert,” Lefty said. “We’ll follow your suggestion.” Bert nodded.

  Every detail of their escape plan had been made except for the one that lingered in the men’s mind; should their wives go along on their journey or should they stay with Bert. However, by the time the couples retired to their horse stalls that evening, the whole matter had been settled. “They’ll be going with us,” Lefty called out to Hide, his voice easily heard through the stall’s board partition.

  “I’ve already been told,” Hide answered back. The women were all smiles.

  It was an hour before normal getting-up-time when a loud clap of thunder woke Lefty. He carefully crawled out of bed, not wanting to wake Suzan, pulled on his pants and shook-out and stomped on his boots. Then he picked up his shirt, hat, and gun belt and eased the stall’s gate open. When he stepped into the alleyway, Hide was coming from his stall too. Without words, they headed for the kitchen to make coffee, but to their surprise, Bert was already sitting at the table with three cups filled. Words were not spoken until the second cups were poured. “We’re having a downpour,” Bert said. “It’s been raining nigh on all night. The thunderbolts just started a mite back.”

  “Hide chimed in, “It would be good if we had rain when we left town, washing out our tracks and keeping a tracker from following us.”

  “Not if the tracker was any good,” Bert said. “Fresh tracks don’t have as much water in them, and the track’s edges are firm, they’re not crumbly.”

  “Maybe those hoodlums ain’t good trackers,” Lefty said. “At least, they don’t look to be good at much of anything to me.”

  The day passed, and the rain didn’t stop. The town roads and all of the trails leaving were a muddy mess. Some were full of standing water. And while the rain fell, Lefty’s clan stayed busy getting ready to leave as soon as the inspector came, and hoping the other four bank hires didn’t show for a few days.

  It was mid-afternoon when two decent looking men rode into the livery out of the rain. They climbed down, shook the water from their hats and rain slickers and as Bert was walking up, the older one said, “My name is Samuel Sneed, and this is my associate, Joseph Sodden. “We’re mineral inspectors for the Western Mining Company and have been sent here on behalf of William Stroud who is the president of a San Francisco bank. We’re to meet Mr. Albert Newman here in Sutter’s Fort. You may know him as Lefty…have you seen him?” Bert nodded as he shook each man’s hand while introducing himself. Afterward, he took the inspectors to the kitchen where he poured them coffee, and then went after Lefty and Hide. As expected, the women came along.

  For the next hour, Lefty and Hide explained the problem with the hoodlums and outlined their plan to slip off from them. The inspectors were reluctant to participate in the escape at first, but finally agreed to the plan and was willing to follow along as soon as Bert gave the signal the hoodlums were dead drunk.

  While Bert was at the saloon, drinking with the thugs, all seven mules and the four horses were brought inside the livery where back-racks and saddles were placed on them. An hour later, Bert came slushing through the muddy road into the livery and gave the signal it was safe for them to leave. He directed them out the back door of the livery and said they’d most likely not be seen because the town folks were inside out of the rain.

  After coats and rain slickers were put on, Lefty headed out into the downpour with a tethered mule. Suzan followed Lefty leading another mule, then came Louise with another. Each inspector had a mule tethered to them, and Hide brought up the rear leading two. Bert was right, the wide, heavily used trail leading east out of town was a muddy mess with stomped-over tracks, now covered in standing water and more was on its way.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “Don’t give me that!” John said standing at the entrance of the livery with his three bank-hire cronies close by. “You know when and where they went while we were getting over our drinking spree last night.”

  “I ain’t got a notion where they are or when they lit out,” Bert said. “If you recall, I was in the saloon doing my share of drinking with you men. When I staggered back here after leaving the saloon last night, I hit the sack right off. I didn’t know they were gone ‘til I woke up this morning and went looking for ‘em.”

  “I think you’re lying and if I find out for sure you helped them escape with our four mules, you’re a dead man,” John said. The four men turned to leave, but John turned back and said, “We’ll be heading out after our noon meal. Have our horses saddled and ready to go.” The holster nodded.

  Bert cooked an early noon meal of fried potatoes and bacon, and after eating and finishing off a couple of cups of coffee, he brought in the four horses from the coral, rubbed them down, and then threw on saddles. He was leading the horses to the front door when four strange men came riding in with a mule tethered behind each man. The men were dripping wet and looked a bit shady. Bert felt sure they were the other four men the bank had hired. All four men stepped down, shook the water from their hats, and then a huge man stepped forward and asked, “We’re looking for four men who we’re associated with. They probably have their stock staying with ‘ya. The lead man among ‘em calls himself John…have you seen ‘em?”

  “The four horses I’m holding belong to them. They’re most likely at the saloon across the street.”

  The big man flipped his rein around a post and said, “Give all of our horses and mules a good rubdown and a feeding of hay. We’ll be back after we talk with our friends at the saloon and have a drink or two.” Bert took the four horses he was holding to an empty stall and then started on the wet horses and mules.

  It was two hours later when both groups of men came back to the livery carrying several bags of food items. After putting the pack-racks back on the four mules and putting the food items they’d just purchased and a few of the first four men’s personal things under the pack-racks’ canvases, the men stepped into their stirrups and headed out. They’d been told at the saloon where the most common trail leading to the gold fields was, which they took.

  The thugs rode for the next two hours up a mountain valley with no idea whether or not they were on the trail Lefty and his clan had taken because of the washed-out tracks. All eight hoodlums were miserable, but especially the original four. The last few days of drunken stupors with short nights and the cold raindrops now getting inside their rain slickers and soaking their clothing was agony. But they continued riding in the valley in a northeasterly direction, not knowing what else to do.

  It was early for the chase to end but due to the dark rain clouds, night was starting to set in, so the hoodlums stopped when they came upon a stream lined with grass and a good supply of firewood from the trees. It wasn’t long until they had a fire burning under a twenty-foot square canvas they’d raised and supported on tree sapling they’d cut. After their stock had been freed of their loads, watered, and hobbled in grass, the men pulled up sitting logs beside the fire and started passing the whiskey bottle.

  John, who seemed to be boss over the entire eight men, stopped the bottle when it had circled three times and assigned two men to cook their supper. When they’d eaten their fill of beef hash and fried cornbread along with a few cups of coffee, the bottle started its round again; actually, it was a new bottle being passed.

  »»•««

  The sun was spilling around the canvas when John woke from the noise of a fire being brought back to life. He crawled from under the covers, stomped on his boots, and reached for his hat and gun belt before walking a few yards from camp to relieve himself. John was pleased the rain had passed, and the sky was clear with only a few floating pillow clouds, but he wasn’t pleased with the position of the sun. We s
lept through half of the morning, he thought. We’ve got to hurry and make up some lost time on the folks we’re chasing. John went back to the canvas where a man stood close to a blazing fire with a large pot of coffee water heating, but to his displeasure, all of the other men were still snuggled under covers. “Get up, you lazy good-for-nothings,” he called out as he started kicking the covered bodies. It wasn’t long until they were dressed and sitting on the logs around the fire holding coffee cups, waiting for their breakfast. After spooning up and eating a plate of boiled corn-mush with a couple of corn-dodgers refried in grease, John hurried the men to get packed so they could start their chase. Of course, the men felt terrible with pounding heads from their hangovers and moved at a snail’s pace, but eventually, they followed John’s orders, and after packing their belongings, they mounted up and followed their boss.

  The line of horses and mules traveling up the valley behind John was nearly soundless because of the water-soaked leaves and branches from yesterday’s rain, but it was also silent due to the lack of talking; only an occasional squeak from a saddle was heard. They stopped early to eat, but mainly to fill themselves with strong coffee, hoping to get rid of their headaches. It didn’t.

  They lingered on all afternoon in a foul mood even though the day was nice with a clear, blue sky, an easy westerly breeze, and sunbeams warming the air to a pleasant temperature. It was late in the day when the valley they were riding through took a westerly direction, and since John had been instructed by the saloon cronies the best gold fields was northeast of them, he knew it was time to leave the valley and climb the mountain they’d been riding beside if they wanted to continue their course, but that would have to wait until morning. It was too late in the day to start the climb which John figured was over a mile high and would take two days to get to the top.

  Their night stop was much better than their previous night’s stop. John restricted each man to a couple of swallows of liquor, and unlike last night, a stomach-filling trail supper was cooked. One of the men had walked away from camp several hundred yards and shot a deer alongside a creek before supper, so fresh venison, fried in bacon grease, along with a pot of hominy and corn-dodgers were included in their evening meal.