"Don't worry about him. I have two old mules for him, but I have to let him talk to impress his band. We understand each other quite well. I have always figured it is far better to talk things over than go to fighting like a couple of stray dogs over a bone."
By the time Owl Ears arrived with his twenty Mescalero Apache warriors, the scouts had caught the two old mules and had put the rope halters on them to be ready for Becker to have them handed over to the Apache headman, Owl Ears.
While Virgil Becker chatted with Owl Ears about the mules and other things the two friends found interesting, Billy wrinkled his brow and looked over at Gus, who sat, reins in hand, watching the wagon master alone with twenty Mescalero Apache warriors with a headman named Owl Ears. Gus almost laughed. Billy sat half way wondering if the Apache warriors would decide to attack the wagon train. He also wondered, as he had before, about why Mister Becker had been so friendly to him and Homer, almost to the point of being fatherly.
"Mister Becker be one fine gentleman," Gus said. "He gots mo brains den anybody I ever knowed."
"Gus, you are right," Billy said. "I think the three of us were lucky to find work on this wagon train."
Gus scratched his forehead. "My daddy and momma got sold away from me when I was jus six so I doan know dem good. Mista Becka seem like a daddy to me."
"Do you know where they are?" Homer asked.
"I neva knowd where dey went. I got done cryin' afta a while when one a da womens at da plantation tole me I needed to live ma own life somehow."
Virgil and Owl Ears finished their palaver. One of the scouts led the two old mules out away from the train, and handed the halter ropes to one of the Apaches who smiled as he accepted the animals.
Virgil had all the shotgun riders and muleteers take turns helping the wranglers keep the mules and horses herded close. He didn't want them to wander off as they grazed the lush New Mexico Territory grasslands before hitching up for the last ten days of the trip. Virgil rode the rounds observing the mules and horses to make sure they had grazed their fill. He wanted to make sure they were not hungry when they started the return trip to Independence from Santa Fe. Another consideration was showing the freight consigners that his mules were capable with their good conditioning.
After inspecting his animals after two days of grazing, Virgil gave the order to harness the mules and hitch them back to the wagons. He watched as the teams stepped out with new vigor. Crossing the river fords caused no problems in the fall, but in spring snow melt rushing from the mountains could fill the streams from bank to bank with a swift running current.
The flat lands turned back into hills with scattered piñon pine trees and a few juniper along the streams. Every so often they traveled through grasslands that had been blackened by fire, but the new grasses were thick and vigorous as they reached for the sky.
Virgil visited with Gus, Homer, and Billy almost every evening. He was not inquisitive about their pasts, nor did he ask any personal questions. He mostly sat and chatted about when he was a boy being brought up around his father's mules and how to farm with them. Homer and Billy learned a lot from Virgil's stories, but Gus just nodded knowingly when Virgil talked about one aspect of farming or another with mules.
Two evenings before their arrival in Santa Fe Homer, Billy and Gus waited by the fire after Virgil left them. Homer took off his hat, scratched his head and squinted. "A while back I was wondering why Mister Becker has been so much more friendly to the three of us than any of the others," Homer said. "I'm still wondering."
"Maybe he be wantin' us ta go back wid'm," Gus ventured.
"We can't go back and take a chance on gettin' ourselves caught," Billy remarked.
"I suppose we can wait and see if he asks us," Homer said. "We'll be in Santa Fe in a couple of days."
The questions in their minds did not keep them awake after the day's haul toward the mountain range that hid Santa Fe from the morning sun. Two mornings later the mules plodded along the trail hauling the wagon train around the mountains. Suddenly, Santa Fe, with its adobe buildings and smoke spiraling from chimneys, came into view.
A little while later the muleteers backed their wagons up to the long warehouse dock so that the warehousemen could unload the freight. They unhitched the mules from the wagons and drove them into a large corral made of horizontal logs placed between upright posts set in the ground. After they unharnessed the animals and turned them loose, the mule men made sure there was plenty of feed in the troughs before walking to the Becker freight office to draw their pay. Homer, Billy and Gus were among the last to arrive in front of Virgil's desk where both he and a clerk sat, paying the men and thanking them for the good work they had accomplished.
There was a sheet of paper on which every man's name was printed. It was the sign-on sheet for the journey back to Independence. Most men signed with an "X" next to his name, but some scrawled signatures. Homer saw his name along with Billy and Gus'. Homer straightened up and looked at Virgil.
"Mister Becker, I thought you understood we would only go as far as Santa Fe," he said.
"Don't worry, Homer, I understand. I just wanted to give the three of you the chance to sign on again." Becker pointed in back of him to a door that opened into another office. "I would appreciate it if you three young men would step into my office for a few minutes after you receive your pay."
The clerk counted out the gold pieces that they had coming for their work, and the three filed into Virgil's office. There were only five men left in the payroll line. After he had personally thanked all the men for their services, Virgil walked into the office and sat down in the chair behind his desk. He glanced out the small window, wiped his brow with his bandana, and turned to look at the three.
"I appreciate the work you have done and I also want to let you know that I have a good notion why you are all heading west." Virgil smiled at each man. "First off, when you joined the train in Independence I wondered about your purpose. I knew Gus was not your slave, Billy. I doubt you have ever had a slave because you don't talk to Gus like you would if he was your slave."
Billy looked down at the floor. Virgil continued.
"I don't believe in anyone owning another human being. I am glad you escaped, Gus. You are far enough away from the South now so you probably won't have to worry. You can always get a job as a mule man, because you are of the best I know of," Becker said, handing Gus an envelope. "I have written out this letter of recommendation for you as a mule man. You might find it useful looking for work someday."
"Thank you, Mista Becker."
"As for you two fellows, I first off noticed that your rifle, Homer, is Union Army issue." Virgil paused. Tears welled into his eyes. "My son had one just like it. I lost him at Bull Run. I wish he had left like you two did. He would still be alive. By the way, Billy, you can keep the rifle I gave you in Independence. When all this war is over you three will always have a job with Becker Freighting as long as I run it. And, remember one thing forever. War is not the way to solve problems and differences of opinion. Now, get going wherever you are going to go, and think of an old freighter named Virgil Becker who took a real liking to all three of you. Adios!"
"Mister Becker," Homer said. "Would you give us three a few minutes to talk?"
"Of course," Becker said, and rose from his chair. "I'll step outside and when you men are finished talking come outside and I'll join you back in this office."
Becker opened the door and stepped outside, closing the door behind him.
"I just think we might be smart to stay on with Virgil Becker," Homer said. "I think I can speak for both of you that he is a good man to work with, and he has principles that I admire."
"I thought we were going to see what there is in Arizona," Billy said.
"Arizona is quite a piece down the road and we have no idea about getting work there. We have good work here for all three of us. I say we should continue working with Virgil Becker. Gus, do you have anything to say?"
/> "I is of the same mind as you, Homa. I likes Mista Becka a lot. He treats me just fine."
"I think he is right about us not getting caught way out here," Homer said. "And, that includes you, Gus. I say we go outside and tell him we'll stay on."
The other two nodded their heads in agreement. Homer went to the door to the office and opened it. The three friends went outside where they saw Virgil Becker standing a few yards away puffing on his pipe smiling at them. Becker removed his pipe from his mouth and walked toward the three.
"I think I know what you men were talking about," he said.
"We would like to stay with you, Mister Becker," Homer said.
"That makes me very happy," Becker said. "Now go out on the town and have a good time. I'll see you back here in four days. The wagons should be loaded by then for the trip back to Missouri."
The wagon boss reached into his pocket and withdrew a fistful of gold coins. He counted out three piles and told the three to each take a pile. "This is your bonus for staying with me," he said. "Don't let these Mexican gals take it all away from you."
Chapter Three
The three friends walked out of the office and made their way to the central part of Santa Fe where they found a small restaurant serving Mexican food. They sat down at a small table that was located near the entrance. A buxom Mexican girl came over to take their order. She stood with arms akimbo waiting for the three to make up their minds.
"What do you recommend?" Homer asked.
"No mucho English," she said. "You like carne asada?"
"What is that?" Homer asked.
She hesitated as she searched her mind for a word. "Beef esteak," she said.
Homer looked at his companions with his eyebrows arched. "What do you think?"
"Sounds like food to me," Billy said. "How about you, Gus?"
"Good nuf fo me."
Homer Crane looked up at the girl and nodded his head. She left for the door that had a sign saying Cocina on the top doorframe.
"We might need to learn to talk Spanish if we want to eat in this country," Billy said. "By the way, I am not sure I want to go back to Independence. I thought I did when we were talking about it, but now I am not that excited about it."
"I have been thinking about that, too," Homer said.
"I wonder if we might look for work here in Santa Fe?" Billy asked.
"I don know 'bout you fellas," Gus said. "But I got a notion that there not be much work here fo us. If we ain't goin' back wid Mista Becka we gonna haf to give the coins back."
"How do you figure there's no work here for us, Gus?" Homer asked.
"I doan see many peoples like us," Gus said. "They's moasly Mexicans here."
A man seated at the adjacent table had been watching the three and listening to their conversation. He rose from his chair and stepped over to the table where the three were seated. "Do you fellers mind if I join you?" I have been listening to you and thought I might tell you about a good place to go."
"Where is that?" Homer asked.
"Arizona," the man said. "I just came from there a week ago."
"Have a seat," Homer said.
The man sat down after introducing himself as Abner Toole.
"Are you going back to Arizona?" Homer asked.
"No, I have business to take care of in Denver so I am heading up there as soon as the stage comes through. It's been delayed because of getting held up by some robbers down by Paso del Norte."
"What makes you think that Arizona is a good place for us to go to?" Billy asked.
"Everything over there is wide open," Abner said. "It is a true land of opportunity for young men like you. And, you," he said, motioning toward Gus, "can find a good job on any cow ranch in the territory. For that matter, so can you other two if you know anything about cattle."
"Are you going back to Arizona after you finish your business in Denver?" Homer asked.
"Absolutely," he said. "I have a good business selling mining supplies in Tucson. I also have a wife waiting for me there."
"Do you know when the stage leaves here to go to Arizona?" Homer asked.
"There's only one I would recommend. Salazar's starts here in Santa Fe and will take you as far as Paso del Norte. From there you can get to Tucson, but the Butterfield Stage quit because of the war. There are some individuals that have stagecoaches. You can ask around Paso del Norte or Mesilla and you'll find one."
They were glad when the waitress brought their meals and the stranger left for the bar. The three agreed that the man might have given them good advice, but they would have to find out for themselves what the best way was to get to Arizona. The following day the three companions walked around the dusty streets of Santa Fe looking for some sort of stagecoach station. They found a small shack huddled next to a corral full of horses. There was a man sitting on a bench outside the building with a crudely painted sign on the plastered adobe sidewall that informed the public that they were looking at "Stage Stop Salazar"." The station agent rose from his bench when the boys approached.
"What can I do for you fellers?" he asked.
"We are heading for Arizona," Homer said. "Maybe you can tell us the best way to get there. We just came in with Mister Virgil Becker."
"I know Virgil. Good man. The Salazar Stage can get you as far as Paso del Norte, but from there to Arizona you might have to find saddle horses because Butterfield closed his line for the duration of the war."
"So, how do people get to Arizona these days?" Homer asked.
"I heard about one feller that goes from Mesilla to Tucson when he fills his seats, but that isn't a regular run. I think I heard that his name is Wallingford."
The conversation lasted a half hour because the stationmaster asked a lot of questions about the war. The companions wanted to leave before the man might figure out why they were there. They left with the understanding that the Paso del Norte bound stage would arrive in two days because of a an altercation with some Indians. The man would not know any departure time until after the situation had been evaluated.
"The stagecoach business is a bunch of headaches," the stationmaster said. "The stage from Paso del Norte got held up and it was late getting here, and the stage going south met up with some Indians." He wiped his brow on his sleeve and returned to his place on his bench.
The three friends returned to where Virgil Becker had unhitched his wagons for unloading, and saw him talking to two well-dressed Mexican men. Becker saw his mule men and stepped over to them.
"I am glad you three are here," he said. "I have some good news and bad news for you. I have sold the freight business to these two Mexican gentlemen. I know that the railroad is under construction and when it reaches Santa Fe my mules will no longer have loads to haul. It will be a few years, but I got a good price for my business so I am fixing to look for something else. I might even head to Arizona or California. The good news is that the new owners have agreed to keep all my employees on their payroll, so you still have work."
The three friends looked around at one another. "I reckon we need to give you back the bonuses you gave us," Homer said.
"Not at all, fellers. Those gold coins are my gifts to you for doing a good job for me on the way here to Santa Fe."
"Thank you, Mister Becker," Homer said. "But, if it is all right with you, we will probably head for Arizona instead of staying on with the new owners of Becker Freight and Trading."
"That's completely up to you fellers," Becker said. "I'll let those jaspers know so they can find replacements. But, I can tell you three one thing; they will never find hands as good as you three in this town. Good luck to you three compadres."
After getting better acquainted with Santa Fe for the next two days the three wayfarers returned to the stage stop when they noticed that there was a coach parked in front of it. It turned out to be the stage that had arrived from Paso del Norte. The stationmaster was in deep conversation with two men who the companions learned later were the driver
and the shotgun rider. After the two men stomped away from the station, the boys approached the stationmaster.
"Do you have a departure time for Paso del Norte?" Homer asked.
"This stage was supposed to make the run to Denver. Those two men you saw cleared out of here mad as wet hens. They just quit the Salazar line because of the robbery they got involved with down by Mesilla. What did I tell you about the stagecoach business? Now I am out a driver and shotgun rider and one passenger for Denver. And, to boot I need to get this stage back to Paso del Norte with a shipment."
"Maybe we can help you out and you can help us at the same time," Homer said.
"How in tarnation do you figure that?" the stationmaster asked.
"Easy," Homer answered. "The three of us will drive your coach to Paso del Norte in return for the cost of the three fares. You will get your coach where you need to get it and we will travel part of the way to Arizona."
"Do you know anything about drivng a stagecoach?"
"Gus is right up there with the best of mule men. He has a letter from Virgil Becker to prove it if you care to look at it. Billy and I have been around teams so you'll have three good hands with horses and two shotgun riders all the way."
"Ya know, you might just have a job. Are you willing to give Enrique Salazar in Paso del Norte a message from me?"
"I would be happy to if I know where I can find him," Homer said.
"The stationmaster in Paso del Norte will get him for you. I want you to tell Señor Salazar that he needs to hire two new stage crews and I could also use two more good teams of young horses, not worn out old nags."
"I can do that," Homer said.
"Fine. You and your compadres can start down the road as soon as the horses are rested. That's a tough haul up here. I'll give you a map and directions to all the stops. They should have changes of horses for you. Just tell them that you three are a new crew because the others quit."
"We will see you in a couple of hours," Homer said. "We are going to find a place to eat."
Along the Trail to Freedom Page 3
