Vigilance Committee War

by Bill Sheehy

  ‘Ah, hell. It don’t mean nothing. Like giving a beef to that preacher there in town so he could help feed some broken-down sod buster. Don’t mean nothing. I gotta live in this country, don’t I? Wal, sometimes that means making nice. Don’t think I really care, though. Cuz I don’t. All right, so there’s some idiots going around hanging other fools who think they can take what don’t belong to them. I ain’t seen none of my livestock going missing. Not so’s you’d know, anyhow.’

  ‘Uh huh. From what we’ve been told, you’d most likely let the vigilantes go on hanging men, whether actual rustlers or not, to keep holding off any move toward statehood. Is that your thinking?’

  Before responding Runkle shifted his gaze toward Louie. ‘He don’t say much, does he? Hey, boy, you a Mexican? I was down there in Texas when we fought your people. Took Texas and by golly most of this territory away from the bean-eaters. Yes, by damn if we didn’t. I ain’t had no Mexican on the place since then.’

  ‘Sí, señor,’ responded Louie in a heavy, lazy accent, ‘I am for sure a part Mexicano. A big part. You don’t like my kind, that’s your problem. Fact is, I don’t much like you or your kind either. Not that I’m ever going to let people like you bother me. Y’all carry around so much hate you don’t have room to breathe easy. Likely don’t get much time to enjoy life either. But again that’s your problem, not mine. No, I don’t talk much. Don’t have anything to say to you.’

  For a long moment Runkle sat glaring at Louie before turning away. ‘All right. You’ve said your piece. And yes,’ he looked at Buck, ‘you got it. The damn fools wanting to make this a state. All they think about is themselves. A state. Just gives more idiots the right to tell us how to live. Bah. Who in hell cares if it’s a state or a territory?’

  Buck chuckled. ‘Might say you’re pretty strong on it, huh?’

  ‘Don’t mean nothing. Don’t mean I got anything to do with no hanging foolishness neither. So what’d you come all the way out here for?’

  ‘Just getting an idea of what it’s all about. Have to start somewhere and meeting the men who’re involved is as good a place as any.’

  ‘Wal, now you’ve met me. And didn’t learn nothing. Yeah, I put some money in the pot. That way I win no matter what. The fool vigilantes get stopped or not – don’t matter to me. Unless y’all do stop them then I could end up losing out use of the open range. Damn foolishness. That land ain’t no good for nothing but cattle. Damn farmer come in and ruin it, they would. Government don’t care. That’s when me and others like me would lose out. Damn foolishness, I say.’

  Buck nodded and stood up. ‘Yes, I got that. Can’t say you’re alone with that feeling, but there it is. We’ll do what we can, what we were hired to do.’ Turning, he started off the porch but stopped. ‘One other thing. You’ve got a boy. We met him in town a day or so back. He was with your gunhand, Isaac Black. Just to let you know, I’ll likely have to shoot Black before it’s all over. Might be a good idea to keep your son away from him.’

  Runkle came out of the chair, suddenly all red-faced. ‘Don’t you be telling me anything about my boy. And don’t be thinking I give a hoot if’n you and that damn gunnie Black go to pulling iron against each other. Now I’ll give ya a warning; Black’s fast. Wouldn’t be surprised if’n he dropped ya. And likely your Mexican sidekick, too.’

  Buck glanced at Louie and smiled. ‘All right,’ he said turning back to Runkle, ‘you’ve had your say. Just don’t let your boy get in the way, is all I’m saying. We’ll bid you a good day.’ Touching the brim of his hat, he went down and got into the saddle.

  Again side by side, they rode out of the yard. ‘He’s a mighty angry man,’ said Louie, his head turning side to side, watching. ‘Now all we got to do is ride away from this spread without getting shot.’

  Chapter 22

  Back on the main road the two men rode warily, keeping a close watch on the surrounding landscape. Twice they had passed rutted ranch roads going off to the west; Fitzwalter’s Mustang Ranch, they’d been told, was the only one to the east, toward the foothills. When they saw the log gate at the ranch road it was obvious they had found the right place. A sign announcing the ranch hung crookedly from one side of the gate. Three men sat relaxed on the log fence fronting the stage road. Another man sat his saddle off to the side.

  ‘I reckon you’ve gone far enough,’ called out one of the men, jumping down off the fence. ‘This here’s private property. The boss, he don’t like any trespassers coming in.’

  The riders pulled up and took their time looking things over. Buck looked everywhere but toward the man sitting his horse. Finally, after a long moment, he glanced in that direction and smiled.

  ‘Well, look here, Louie. I’d say that was the jasper what came in to tell us he was going to shoot us. What was his name? Uh, oh, yes, Yarberry.’ Glancing to his partner, he nodded, then looked back at the man, who hadn’t moved. ‘As I recall, he didn’t impress me much at the time. Did he you?’

  From the moment they had stopped at the gate, Louie had been watching Yarberry. Not looking at Buck he simply shook his head.

  ‘Naw. And now here he is. Hey, there, is this when you plan on earning your money?’

  Yarberry snorted and reined his horse around and rode away down the ranch road, not looking back.

  ‘I gotta hand it to ya,’ said the man standing by the fence. ‘There ain’t too many what’d talk to that jasper like you just did. He’s not one what’s got a sense of humour. Wonder he didn’t shoot you down where ya sat. But never mind. We’ve got our orders. Nobody gets by here without the bosses saying it’s OK. So just turn back and ride out.’

  While Buck had been talking to Yarberry the other two men had climbed down and, with thumbs hooked in their gunbelts, hands close to their revolver grips, spread out to each side.

  ‘You men are certainly not very welcoming,’ said Buck, slouching in the saddle. ‘Louie, I guess we’d better not bother these gentlemen. Boys, we can tell we’re not wanted. You tell your boss-man, Mr Fitzwalter, we was here and would like to talk to him about the vigilante problem. Would hate to think that’s why he’s so shy.’

  Reining the big black around, Buck rode back to the stage road. Louie sat for a minute watching the three men, then nodding, followed.

  ‘Well, partner,’ Buck said glancing back over his shoulder at the men who had regained their place on the fence, ‘that strike you as being interesting?’

  ‘A little,’ said Louie, taking the makings out of his shirt pocket and rolling a cigarette. ‘Seems a waste of three cow hands, having them ride a fence like that. Wonder what’s going on they don’t want anyone to see.’

  ‘Uh huh. Not likely any vigilantes. That breed of men work better when nobody’s around to see what they do. Nope. Does make me wonder, though.’

  ‘One thing’s clear. We now know who’s paying that Yarberry fellow. You ever have a run-in with this Fitzwalter?’

  ‘Not that I remember. The name isn’t familiar. Maybe he just doesn’t like anyone who rode with the Rangers.’

  Chapter 23

  It was coming on dark by the time the two men got back to Auburn. Supper time. The next morning, after they enjoyed a big breakfast, they found a couple spindle-backed chairs on the hotel porch.

  ‘Well, Buck, tell me if I’m wrong, but that ride out to those ranches yesterday didn’t do us much good, did it?’

  ‘No, not much. But there isn’t really anything else we can do, except keep talking to people. Sooner or later someone’ll tell us something that will give us a direction to that so-called Vigilance Committee, or,’ he paused before going on, ‘or sooner or later those on the Committee will come calling.’

  ‘That supposed to make me feel good? Let’s hope it’s sooner rather than later. There’s already been one hanging since we took on this job. That didn’t help us either. I’m hoping there aren’t any more.’

  ‘Hey, look who’s coming our way. Good morning, Sheriff,’ Buck calle
d out as two men came up on the porch.

  ‘Buck, Louie, want you to meet Marshal Calhoun. From over at Fort Rawlins. Marcus, these are the two men I was telling you about.’

  ‘Good morning, gents. Angus tells me you were both Texas Rangers and now you’re here to stop the vigilantes.’

  Buck chuckled. ‘Angus. Now that’s the first I’ve heard you even had a front name, Sheriff. Yeah,’ he turned back to the marshal, ‘and we were told you don’t get over this way very often. What’s the occasion?’

  ‘Now that’s not exactly true. Riding the stage over here isn’t the most pleasant way to spend the best part of the day, but I come over every time I need to. Angus tells me you spent most of yesterday out talking to some of the ranchers. That right?’

  Buck nodded. ‘Not that we learned much. But yes, we did get to sit down with a couple of the bigger ranch owners.’

  ‘See anyone that somehow didn’t fit in?’

  ‘Don’t know what you mean, exactly. Most everyone we met would be doing about what you’d expect. Oh,’ he hesitated, ‘with the exception of Harry Yarberry. Run into him at one place. Haven’t figured out what he’s doing, though.’

  ‘Who’s this Yarberry?’ asked the sheriff.

  ‘A gunfighter,’ Marshal Calhoun answered. ‘Got himself quite a reputation for hiring his gun out to just about anybody. You say you ran into him. And there was no gunplay?’

  Louie chuckled. ‘Nope. He’s made it clear, though, what his intentions are. Says he’s going to shoot both of us.’

  ‘It just wasn’t the right time or place,’ said Buck. ‘Those kind like things going their way before they pull iron on someone. Our meeting up with him yesterday wasn’t in his favour. He didn’t have the advantage.’

  ‘Where was this meeting?’

  ‘At the Mustang Ranch. We wanted to talk with the owner, a man named Fitzwalter.’

  Marshal Calhoun nodded. ‘Fitzwalter, huh. There’s been some rumours floating around about a Fitzwalter and his ranch. Haven’t been able to prove anything, but from what I’ve been hearing, this ranch is a good place to spend some time if you want to stay out of sight for a while. That’s why I came over to Auburn. There’s a fellow, Hyman Neil, was seen over in town. A real bad man. From over in New Mexico. The Federal Marshal over there telegraphed around for everyone to be on the lookout for him. Appears folk over that way really want to get their hands on him.’

  ‘And you think he might be coming this way?’ asked the sheriff.

  ‘Well, from what the marshal said, both Neil and Fitzwalter were friendly back when Fitzwalter ran a saloon over there. I used that as an excuse to come over to Auburn.’

  ‘And I thought you just wanted me to take you fishing.’

  ‘That too. But this is serious. The marshal says Neil is the baddest cowboy of them all.’

  Chapter 24

  There wasn’t much happening in Auburn after the two lawmen went back toward the sheriff’s office. Marshal Calhoun didn’t have any more to say about the outlaw, Neil.

  ‘I wonder,’ said Louie as the two walked back down the street, ‘if the good sheriff is actually going to take the marshal fishing.’

  Sitting back with his boot heels hooked under the porch railing, Buck smiled. ‘I got the idea Sheriff McDonald only goes down to the river with his fishing pole when he thinks something is going to happen that’d be too big for him to handle.’

  For a time neither man said anything. Watching a wagon come in held their interest for a while. Nothing was said but both were sure the man and woman sitting high on the wagon seat were coming from one of the smaller ranches. They somehow didn’t have the look of being too prosperous. As the wagon passed by the man nodded to the two sitting on the porch. Two children poked their heads from under a canvas tarp stretched over the wagon bed. A boy and a girl. The girl gave Buck and Louie a little wave with her smile. The boy, slightly older, simply stared.

  That bit of excitement was barely over when Mayor Winterbottom came out of his store. Standing on the plank sidewalk, he watched as the wagon stopped. Stepping down off the sidewalk he helped the woman climb down. As the couple went up and into the store, Winterbottom glanced over to the two men sitting on the hotel porch. Nodding to them, he turned and followed his customers.

  Louie took a long look up at the sky. ‘Hey, Buck. What’s today? Isn’t Saturday by any chance is it?’

  ‘Don’t think so. Maybe those folks ran out of coffee and had to come in early. Life gets hard when you don’t have your coffee.’

  ‘Ah, I won’t argue with ya on that. Tell you what, I’ll flip a coin to see who goes across and brings us back a cup. What do ya say?’

  Buck smiled and reached into his pants pocket. Flipping the coin high in the air he caught it and slapped it down on the back of his hand as Louie called out ‘Heads.’

  ‘Well,’ Buck smiled, ‘it’s tails.’ He put the coin back in his pocket. ‘I’ll have mine black, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Knew I should’ve used my own coin,’ said Louie disgustedly as he got up and walked away.

  Sipping their coffee they watched as a few men rode slowly in, tying up at the hitchrail in front of the saloon.

  ‘Seems pretty early for that, don’t you think?’ Louie remarked.

  ‘Yep, this coffee does the job pretty fine, though. Thank you.’

  Louie snorted.

  Soon the ranching family came out of the store with the mayor following along, carrying a box of groceries. As the wagon turned and headed back the way it’d come, Winterbottom watched. Looking back at the store, he shrugged and came over to the hotel porch.

  ‘Morning gentlemen. You two keeping an eye on things, are you?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Louie, ‘not much happening though. Guess that’s about right, a town this size.’

  ‘Uh huh. Gets busier come Saturday. Say, you haven’t seen my daughter come riding in, have you?’

  Buck shook his head. ‘Gone for a morning ride has she?’

  ‘No, damn it. Went out about dark last evening and didn’t come in. Either of you got family?’

  Both men shook their heads.

  ‘Well, maybe that’s good.’

  Buck nodded. ‘Likely your daughter rode out to see her friend, Rose Marie, and stayed the night. Probably nothing to worry about.’

  ‘I want to think that, but lately she’s been acting strange. Ah, hell, this isn’t the first night she’s stayed out. I don’t know what to think.’

  Nether of the two men could think of anything to say. After a moment Winterbottom sighed and stepped off the porch. ‘Guess it don’t do any good, standing here worrying about it. Better get back to the store.’ With a little wave he walked away.

  Buck watched the man thinking how maybe he was lucky not to have anyone to cause him to worry. Louie glanced the other way, watching a small bunch of horsemen come riding in.

  ‘That looks a lot like our friend Black, doesn’t it?’ he asked quietly.

  One of the horses was reined over toward the hotel while the others rode on down the street. Stopping at the hotel hitchrail, a man stepped off the animal, looped the reins over the bar and stepped up on the porch. The others, Buck noticed, stopped down at the saloon.

  ‘Morning, gents,’ the man said, taking off his hat and idly wiping the inner band, ‘I’m Henry Raymond Fitzwalter. Understand you came by my spread, the Mustang Ranch, yesterday. I apologize for my men stopping you at the gate. They thought it best. Too many times we’ve had strangers come wandering in. I’ve got too many livestock running free not to be cautious. Mind if I join you a bit? We can talk things over.’

  Buck nodded, and the man pulled over another chair. Fitzwalter wasn’t your usual horse wrangler. Wearing low-heeled, high-topped shoes made that clear. Instead of canvas pants, or even denim like nearly every other rider wore, he had on black wool pants and three-button suit coat. The kind usually seen in the big cities, worn mostly by bankers and lawyers. Sitting down, Fitz
walter slipped the buttons on his suit coat, flipping both sides open as if to get air moving around his chest. Both Buck and Louie saw the shoulder holster hanging under his left armpit. The silver gun butt of his pistol sparkled in the morning sunshine.

  ‘I gather you’re the team hired by the town to see about getting rid of those calling themselves the Vigilance Committee. Having any luck?’

  Buck shook his head. ‘Not so you’d notice. That’s what we was doing yesterday, riding around talking to the ranchers, trying to get a starting place with things.’

  ‘Ah, well, yes. I’d guess it’d be hard to find that gang. They don’t seem to hang around long after doing their work.’

  ‘That’s true. Fact is, there was a man left hanging from the bridge just the other day. Some youngster coming into town spotted him. Only sign of who’d put him at the end of a rope was the paper pinned to his shirt. Those on the Committee seem to think highly of themselves.’

  ‘From the bridge, you say. They’ve used that bridge before once or twice. I don’t envy you the job. Hard to see how you’re going to catch them.’

  ‘Yeah. Unless they do something stupid, which we’re counting on.’

  ‘Well, I don’t see how I can help you any. I suppose others have told you how most of us ranchers feel about it. Would be good to get rid of this Committee but at the same time they’re doing us a favour, protecting our livestock.’

  Louie was keeping an eye on the saloon and noticed when Black came out to stand on the boardwalk, thumbs hooked in his belt, staring down the street at the hotel porch. After a few minutes he turned back into the bar.

  ‘You got a hired hand there,’ Louie said, ‘Isaac Black. He’s by way of being an old friend of ours.’

  ‘Ike? Well, yes, he’s been on my payroll for a couple months. Not all my hands are kept busy saddle-breaking our rough stock. Someone like Ike is useful in keeping my livestock from getting stolen. Those vigilantes have just about made him unnecessary, but, well, I’d rather take care of things myself. With hands like Ike Black.’