Bloodshed of the Mountain Man

by William W. ; Johnsto Johnstone

  “You look like you know what you’re doing,” Smoke said.

  “I wasn’t always a bar girl. My papa was a doctor, and I used to help him some.”

  “Thanks, Elegant Sue. I’m glad you’re here,” Smoke said.

  “Elegant Sue is my bar girl name. My real name is Julia Pr . . . that is, Julia McKnight.”

  “Julia, I want to take Cal back home, so I’m going to go lease a buckboard and a team. I’ll give you one hundred dollars to go with me and look after him on the way back.”

  “You don’t have to give me that much money,” Julia said.

  “I know I don’t have to. But this boy means that much to me,” Smoke said. “The offer of a hundred dollars still stands.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Julia said. “But, if you’re going to put him in the back of a buckboard, you should put him on a mattress. He doesn’t need to be riding on the hard wood.”

  Smoke nodded. “Yes, that’s a good idea. Not sure where I’m going to get a mattress on such short order, though.”

  “We can use the mattress from my bed. If I’m going with you, I won’t be needing it.”

  “Thanks, again. I’m going to get a buckboard and a team,” Smoke said, hurrying out of the saloon.

  “Wow, you just wait until it gets around that he was here,” Bagby said. “Why people will be comin’ from all over, just to have a drink where the famous Smoke Jensen kilt Lou Reece,” Bagby said. “I didn’t realize when he was here before, who he really was.”

  “Who is he?” Julia asked.

  “Why, that’s Smoke Jensen.”

  “Yeah, I got that much. But who is Smoke Jensen?”

  “He’s about the most famous gunfighter in the whole country, that’s who,” Bagby said. “Only he ain’t evil. There has been books wrote about him. And from what I’ve read, he only uses his gun for the good. Sort of like a knight in shinin’ armor, you might say,” he added with a laugh.

  “Julia,” one of the other girls said, using her real name since Julia had already told Jensen what it was, “if you’re going off travelin’ with somebody like Smoke Jensen, don’t you think maybe you ought to change clothes first?”

  Julia glanced down at the exposed, creamy tops of her breasts.

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “Maybe I’d better do that. You stay here with him, will you, Maggie?”

  “All right, but I don’t know anything about nursing. So what do I need to do?”

  “Nothing, really. Right now about the only thing you can do, is just make certain he doesn’t roll off onto the floor.”

  Maggie chuckled. “Well, I can do that, at least.”

  Ten minutes later Smoke returned. “The buckboard is out front,” he said.

  Julia was much more modestly dressed now, and she had a packed bag of clothes with her. The mattress from her bed had also been brought down and was lying on the end of the bar. There were a few more people in the saloon now, who hadn’t been here earlier, but seeing Cal laid out on the two tables, were quickly caught up with what was going on.

  “Gordon, Ike, why don’t you help Mr. Jensen carry this man?” Julia asked.

  “I’ll get him,” Smoke said, scooping Cal up in his arms with little effort. “But I would appreciate it if you two would carry the mattress out to the buckboard.”

  “Sure thing, Mister,” Ike answered.

  Smoke and Cal’s horses were tied to the back of the buckboard. The two men put the mattress down, and Smoke lay Cal upon it; then he helped Julia climb in beside her patient.

  “Here, Sue,” Lilly said, holding up a carpetbag. “I mean Julia,” she corrected with a smile.

  “Thanks, Lilly,” Julia replied.

  “Better hold on back there, Miss McKnight,” Smoke said. “I’m going to drive as fast as I can without killing this team.”

  “Who is Miss McKnight?” Ike asked.

  Gordon shrugged his shoulders. “Beats the hell out of me.”

  Smoke snapped the reins over the backs of the team, and the buckboard left Brown Spur at a rapid trot. As he drove out of town, he saw the carnage that had been brought on by the Ghost Riders’ raid. The dead had been lined up alongside the street—the dead Ghost Riders separated from the slain citizens of the town. There were five of the Ghost Riders and eight townspeople, four men, three women, and one child. There were people standing over the bodies of the citizens of the town, many of them openly weeping.

  As the buckboard travelled along at a rapid clip, Cal, unable to hold on, started bouncing around in the back. Julia lay down on the mattress beside him, put the sheet over them, and wrapping her arms around him, pulled Cal close to her.

  Smoke had to pass by his ranch, Sugarloaf, before he reached Big Rock, but he didn’t stop. Instead he drove on by, seven more miles to Big Rock, making the entire trip in a little over two hours. Smoke pulled up to the front of the doctor’s office, yelling at him even before he came to a complete stop.

  “Doc! Doctor Urban! Doc!”

  Doctor Urban not only heard his name being called, but recognizing Smoke’s voice, hurried out of his office to meet him. The buckboard slid to a stop, only to be wreathed for a moment in the rooster tail of dust that had been kicked up by the whirling wheels.

  “It’s Cal,” Smoke said, setting the brake and jumping down. “He’s been shot.” Smoke looked toward Julia. “Is he—”

  He didn’t have to finish the question.

  “He’s still alive,” Julia said.

  “Get him inside quickly, Smoke,” Doctor Urban said.

  As he had before, Smoke scooped Cal up in his arms and carried him into the doctor’s office.

  “Back here,” Doctor Urban said, leading the way into the back room he had set up in order to allow him to conduct surgical procedures.

  “The bullet in his stomach has to come out first,” Dr. Urban said after a quick examination. “This is going to be very tricky. We have to pray that no internal organs are involved, but I think they may not be, or he would, more than likely, be dead by now. And I not only have to get the bullet, I’ll have to find the piece of cloth from his shirt that the bullet took in with it.”

  “Smoke?” someone called from the front of the office.

  “Monte, I’m back here,” Smoke replied, recognizing Sheriff Carson’s voice.

  “What happened?”

  “Cal’s been shot. Do me a favor, Monte, and ride out to my ranch to get Sally. She’ll want to be here. Pearlie too.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “It’s very bad,” Doctor Urban said. He shook his head. “Smoke, you have to be prepared to lose him.”

  “I know,” Smoke said. “That’s why I want Sally here.”

  “I should give him some chloroform, but it has to be done just right, or it is more dangerous than helpful. And I can’t do that and operate at the same time.”

  “I know how to administer chloroform,” Julia said. “My father was a doctor and I did it for him.”

  “Excellent,” Dr. Urban said. “Well, we had better get started. Smoke, you stand by too. Sometimes folks act rather peculiar when they are under the effects of chloroform, they dream some strange things and they don’t know the difference between dreams and reality. And I would start by taking his gun out of his holster.”

  “Right, I should have done that before, but I didn’t think of it.”

  “I’ll get started out to your place, Smoke, and I’ll be back with Sally as soon as I can,” Sheriff Carson said.

  “Thanks, Monte.”

  Sally had just gathered some eggs and was walking back to the house when she saw Sheriff Carson approaching. Seeing him wouldn’t, in itself, cause her to be curious, but he was coming at a gallop, and that was not only curious, it was also a little troubling.

  “Sheriff, what is it?”

  “Smoke wants you to come to the doc’s office quick. Cal’s been shot.”

  “Oh! How bad is he?”

  “He’s real bad, Sally. If you want to s
ee him while he’s still alive, Doc says you’d better get there fast. Smoke said to bring Pearlie, too.”

  “Pearlie!” Sally shouted.

  Pearlie was in the barn and he came running. “Yes, ma’am, what’s wrong?”

  “We have to go to town! Cal’s been shot!”

  “I’ll get the horses saddled,” Pearlie said without having to be told. He turned back to the barn on a run.

  “I’m goin’ to start on back,” Sheriff Carson said. “I plumb wore out my horse gallopin’ out here so fast, I’m going to have to walk him back, so you two will more ’n likely pass me on the way.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I sure hope Cal pulls through all right.”

  “A prayer would be good too,” Sally said.

  “Yes, ma’am, I been doin’ that ever since I left town,” the sheriff said as, touching his fingers to the brim of his hat, he turned his horse and started back.

  In no time at all, it seemed, Pearlie was back riding one horse and leading Sally’s.

  “Oh, please, Lord, let him live until I get there,” Sally said as she mounted the horse.

  “Do you want to go at a gallop?” Pearlie asked.

  “Yes!” Sally replied, breaking into a gallop, even as she shouted the word back.

  Within less than three minutes, they thundered by Sheriff Carson, who was now proceeding at a brisk trot.

  “God be with you!” Sheriff Carson shouted, the words trailing off in the distance as Sally and Pearlie galloped by.

  As Sally bent forward into the wind, she knew that the time might well come when she would have to respond to a call to Smoke’s side, just as she was, now, to Cal. She was thankful that it wasn’t Smoke she was galloping to see, but almost as soon as she had that thought, she felt guilty, as if she was saying she was thankful it was Cal instead of Smoke.

  Twenty minutes later, the two riders were thundering down Front Street, past Delmonico’s and Longmont’s Saloon; then they turned up Sikes Street. Dr. Urban’s office was right across the street from the courthouse and tucked in between the Big Rock Theater and the Brown Dirt Saloon.

  “You go on in, Miz Sally, I’ll tether the horses,” Pearlie said, as both of them dismounted.

  Sally tossed the reins to Pearlie, then ran into the office. “Smoke! Where is Cal?” She shouted. “Smoke!”

  “We’re back here,” Smoke replied as Pearlie came in.

  Sally and Pearlie hurried into the back.

  “How is he?” she asked Dr. Urban. “Oh, please tell me he is still alive.”

  “He’s still alive, but as to how he is, it’s too early to tell yet. I’ve got the bullets out, but he’s still under the effects of the chloroform. We’ll just have to wait to see how he responds.”

  “Oh, please, God, let him come through this,” Sally said aloud.

  “Amen,” Julia said.

  Sally looked at Julia then, as if seeing her for the first time.

  “Sally, this is Julia,” Smoke said. “She helped me get Cal back here.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Julia,” Sally said. “And thank you so much for your help.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Cal was dreaming.

  “Your mama is a whore.”

  Cal was twelve years old, living in the town of Eagle Tail, Kansas, and he was sweeping the floor of the Beer Barrel Saloon, the saloon where his mother worked.

  “You know that, don’t you, boy?”

  The man who was talking was one of the cowboys who frequented the saloon. “Your mama is a whore and you don’t even know who your pappy is, do you? Hell, for all I know, I might be your pappy. I’ve sure bedded your mama often enough.”

  Cal’s face burned as the two men who were at the table with the cowboy, laughed.

  “How does it feel to be a whore’s kid?”

  Cal didn’t answer.

  “Your mama’s upstairs right now with some drummer that ain’t even from here. Tell me, boy, if he decides to spend the night with her, where do you sleep? Do you get to watch?”

  “For crying out loud, Bill, let the boy be,” the bartender said. “He’s a good boy, and he comes here every day after school and works hard. He’s never give me no trouble.”

  “I’m just funnin’ him,” Bill said.

  “I doubt that he’s havin’ much fun from it.”

  “Whore’s got no business havin’ kids anyway,” Bill said. “They ought to know that if they birth some brat, he’s goin’ to be nothin’ but trouble. This little bastard will no doubt be in jail by the time he’s sixteen years old.”

  Cal had made no response to the cowboy’s brutal teasing, and now he picked up the trash he had swept up and put it in the can.

  “I’m goin’ to take the trash out, Mr. Fitzgerald,” Cal said.

  “All right. When you come back in, I’ll have a lemonade waitin’ for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Put some whiskey in it, Paddy,” Bill said. “Hell, he’s goin’ to turn into a drunk someday anyway, he may as well get an early start.”

  Again the other two men laughed.

  Cal went out back to dump the trash; then he ran up the side of the saloon to reach the street. There were six horses tied to the hitchrail in front of the saloon. Cal knew which horse belonged to Bill, and walking out to it, he looked around to make certain he wasn’t being observed. Then, he cut the girth strap nearly all the way through. That done, he hurried back along the side of the saloon so that he would come back in through the same door he had used to leave.

  The lemonade was sitting on the bar and he went over to pick it up. He was very hot . . . he didn’t know why he was so hot. Somehow, the lemonade made his forehead feel cooler, though he didn’t know how that could be.

  With the floor swept, Cal stepped behind the bar and began washing shot glasses and beer mugs.

  “You know the bunk is back there for you if you need it, Cal,” Fitzgerald said in a comforting voice.

  “Yes, sir, thank you,” Cal said.

  A few minutes later, Bill and the two cowboys with him got up to leave the saloon.

  “Boy, tell your mama it’s too bad she had an all-night customer,” Bill called to him. “I would’a given ’er just a real good time.”

  “Don’t pay any attention to him, Cal. He’s nothin’ but a loudmouth,” Fitzgerald said.

  “I don’t pay no attention to people like that,” Cal said. “I mean I don’t pay any attention to people like that. Miz Sally would want me to say it that way.”

  Fitzgerald didn’t react to the mention of Sally’s name, and Sally, slipping into Cal’s dream, didn’t seem at all out of place to him.

  Fitzgerald rubbed his hand through Cal’s hair. “That’s the way to do it.”

  “I’ll get the glasses off their table,” Cal said.

  As he walked around from behind the bar, he looked outside through the front window. He saw the three cowboys mount up and start to ride off, but Bill went only a few feet before the girth strap snapped, the saddle slid off to one side, and Bill was dumped into the street. And, as it so happened, he fell into a big pile of horse apples.

  The other two cowboys with him laughed out loud. “Damn, Bill, can’t you stay on a horse?” one of them asked.

  There were about six other men in the saloon, cowboys from one of the other ranches, and one of them happened to be looking outside when Bill fell.

  “Ha! What the hell? Bill Dumas just fell off his horse!”

  The others, looking outside, laughed.

  Angrily, Bill got up from the pile of horse apples and stormed back into the saloon. He pointed to the group of laughing cowboys.

  “All right, which one of you sons of bitches cut my saddle strap?” he shouted angrily.

  “Damn, Bill,” one of them said, waving his hand in front of his nose. “Why don’t you go home and change shirts? You smell like horse shit.”

  The others laughed.

  Bill sta
red at them for a moment, then with a shouted curse, went back outside. He mounted his horse and with the saddle thrown across in front of him, rode away bareback.

  “Whooee,” one of the cowboys said, slapping his leg in laughter. “I don’t know who cut his strap, if anyone did. But if I knew who it was, I’d buy him a beer.”

  “I did it,” one of the other cowboys said.

  “No you didn’t, Jed, hell, you been right here since before he even come here.”

  “Yeah, but I’ll say I did it to get Arnie to buy me a beer.”

  The others laughed.

  “Cal, did you do that?” Fitzgerald asked, quietly.

  Dr. Urban’s office

  “Yes, sir, I did that,” Cal said aloud. “I truly did.” Cal laughed.

  “What do you think it is that he did?” Sally asked.

  “I don’t know,” Smoke said. “But whatever it is, he seemed to find it funny.”

  Cal opened his eyes, and when he did, he was looking into the face of a beautiful young woman. The woman was holding a cool, damp cloth to his forehead.

  “Are you an angel?” he asked.

  “How are you feeling, Cal?” Smoke asked.

  “I thank you for the lemonade, Mr. Fitzgerald. It sure hit the spot.”

  “What?” Smoke looked at Dr. Urban. “Doc, is he all right?”

  Dr. Urban laughed. “He’ll be fine as soon as all the effects of the chloroform and the laudanum wear off. It’s probably some dream he was having, that’s hanging on.

  “It’s going to take him a while to recover, but I’m more hopeful now than I was when you first brought him here.”

  “Oh, thank God!” Sally said. She hurried to his bed and leaned over, then stopped and looked at Dr. Urban. “Will it be all right if I give him a hug?”

  “I think that might be just what the doctor calls for,” he replied with a smile.

  “Miz Sally,” Cal said.

  Sally gave him a big hug. “Oh, Cal, you frightened me to death.”

  “I’m sorry I did,” Cal said.

  Pearlie came over to the bed as well. “You’ve scared all of us, pardner,” he said, reaching down to put his hand on Cal’s shoulder.