Most of that morning was spent with Perley bringing his grandfather up to date on the family and the Triple-G Ranch in Lamar County, Texas. The old man was fascinated to hear about the successful cattle operation his son had created and was eager to return to Texas when his grandson proposed it.
“You sure I’d be welcome?” the old man asked. “After all, I ran out on your great-grandma and left her with a young’un to raise.”
“You’ll be welcome,” Perley assured him. “They wouldn’t have sent me way out here to find you if you weren’t welcome. And now, it looks like you’re gonna make it back from that ambush, so I’m thinkin’ we’ll just stay here till you’re well enough to ride.”
There was one more thing Perley had to think about. He had promised Lena he would see her safely to Deadwood, and he intended to keep that promise. He couldn’t leave her stranded on her own, like she was when he first found her. Maybe he could persuade Mamie to stay on in Hill City a little longer, at least until he had time to take Lena to Deadwood. By then, his grandpa might be able to ride and they could start for home.
Things would be a great deal better if the outlaws that jumped the old man and his partner hadn’t stolen his horse.
“I’m sure gonna miss that horse,” Perley’s grandfather lamented. “As fine a horse as I’ve ever rode,” he went on. “He was an Injun pony, a paint. His hindquarters were solid brown, all the way to his hooves. Made him look like he was wearin’ a pair of pants. I traded a fine horse for that pony. I was ridin’ a big ol’ black Morgan that a U.S. deputy marshal gave me for helpin’ him capture an outlaw hidin’ out in the San Bois Mountains. Wasn’t nothin’ wrong with the Morgan, but that paint just suited my style.”
Perley still had supplies Mamie could use for cooking, but he needed to go hunting. They could use some more meat, and his grandfather said the deer were coming back to the creek since the miners moved out, so Perley decided to take care of that need later toward evening, when the deer would be feeding.
When he told Mamie what he wanted to do, she agreed to stay on, since he was going to supply them with food, but she preferred to go to Deadwood with him when he took Lena there. She had been apprehensive about packing everything she planned to carry on her mule and making the trip by herself. Perley could hardly blame her for that, so it looked like they were all going to have to wait until his grandfather was well enough to ride. The group would go to Deadwood together, then Perley and his grandfather could turn around and head for Texas, which now seemed ten thousand miles away. Perley’s planning kept coming back to the one problem he hadn’t figured out. He needed another horse.
Later that afternoon, when his grandfather felt like talking again, Perley asked him about the men who shot him.
“They hit us when we was asleep,” his grandpa said.
“So, you didn’t see ’em, or even how many there were?”
“Oh, I know how many there were,” Grandpa replied. “I’m pretty sure there was two of ’em, and I got a pretty good idea which two they were.”
Perley asked how he knew that if he was asleep when they shot him, and Grandpa told him, “There’s two fellers that moved in on a claim about a hundred yards downstream from where we was pannin’. They said the feller who was workin’ it left for Deadwood, but that feller told us he wasn’t gonna leave his claim. We knew our claim was played out, but we worked it for a few days to keep anybody snoopin’ around from finding out we was really workin’ to get that gold that was supposed to be hid under a big rock in the side of the bank. Anyway, them two fellers kept comin’ around to see if we was makin’ any money. They didn’t look like they done any minin’, except maybe in somebody else’s pockets. Like I said, I didn’t get a look at ’em that night, but I’d bet anything they’re the ones who jumped us and left us for dead. I had to play dead, so I never moved a muscle the whole time they was goin’ through my pockets. If one of ’em hadda felt my pulse, they’da known I weren’t dead. My heart was beatin’ about a hundred miles an hour when they dragged me and my partner away from the fire. They rolled me over the edge of a gully and dropped his body on top of me. I laid there for a helluva long time under his body till I decided it was safe enough to crawl away from that gully.”
“How did you come to partner up with the man with you?” Perley asked. “Was his name Lem Wooten?”
“How’d you know that?” Grandpa responded.
Perley told him he had found out in Custer City that his grandpa had left town with Wooten.
“Well, that’s a fact, but I didn’t know him before that. When I first started up that creek, I came upon a feller layin’ in the middle of the trail, shot full of holes and lookin’ like he’d been scalped. He was still alive, but not by much. I dragged him outta the road and tried to see if I could do anythin’ for him, but he was too far gone. He said some outlaws jumped him and took everythin’ he had except his trousers and his boots. He said he was tryin’ to get back to his brother’s place in Custer City. Hell, it musta been only four or five miles to Custer. I told him I’d take him there, but he didn’t look to me like he’d make it another mile. I stayed with him that night, but the next mornin’ he knew he was fixin’ to die. He told me to pull his boot off, so I did, and there was a piece of doeskin wrapped around his foot. It had a map drawn on it to show where a gold treasure was buried. Only problem was, it didn’t say where in the world it was located. He said to take it to his brother in Custer City, where he had a blacksmith shop, and that he knew where the claim was. I figure he wanted to make sure his brother got his share of that gold. He died a few hours after that, and I went on back to Custer to find Lem Wooten.”
“But you never found that treasure?” Perley asked.
“Oh, we found it,” Grandpa snorted. “I was lyin’ when I told you there weren’t no gold. The trouble was, we were afraid to dig it out from under that rock. Those two fellers got wind of it somehow, and they were stickin’ pretty close to us. They musta knowed Lem’s brother had struck it rich. I wonder if they’re still lookin’ for that gold.”
His comment hit Perley as something he hadn’t considered. I wonder if they are still there looking for that treasure. He decided right away that it was worth a look. Maybe the men who shot his grandpa and murdered Lem Wooten might still be at that mining claim. Perley was going hunting anyway, so he might find more than deer down French Creek. “Tell me how to find that claim you crawled here from.”
“It’s on that flap of deerskin you found wrapped around my foot,” he said. “That’ll take you to the claim, but there’s somethin’ more you have to know to find that buried gold. When we figure it’s safe, we’ll go there and dig that gold outta there.” He grinned at Perley and winked.
* * *
With the help of the map, Perley had very little trouble finding the spot where his grandfather and Lem Wooten were attacked. The old man had given him ample signs to look for to make sure he was at the right claim. When he figured he was getting close to it, he became more cautious, and rode a few hundred yards closer before dismounting and leading Buck through the pines that skirted the rapidly flowing creek.
Even though his directions were detailed, Perley was still wary of the possibility of sneaking up on the wrong claim. Another fifty yards or so and he spotted smoke up ahead, so he left his horse there, and with his rifle in hand, he began to advance cautiously through the pine trees. I hope to hell I know what I’m doing, he thought, for he wasn’t sure what he was actually going to do. He inched his way closer until he could see two men sitting by the fire, drinking coffee.
Still uncertain if they were the right two men, Perley hesitated to confront them, until he saw the horses tied to a rope stretched between two trees near the water beyond them. There was no mistaking one of the horses—the paint that looked like it was wearing a pair of brown trousers. The men had not even taken the saddle off. Perley noticed then that four of the six horses he saw tied to the rope were saddled. Maybe the men were get
ting ready to give up on their search for gold, or maybe they never cared enough to pull the saddles off.
Back to what he should do. He couldn’t decide. The men were thieves and murderers, but he didn’t like the role of judge, jury, and executioner. He was still trying to decide what to do when he took a step to the side without looking down to see the rotten pine limb beneath his foot. When his weight came down on the dried limb, it cracked loudly, causing both men to startle at once.
With no choice left to him, Perley walked out of the trees, his rifle trained on them. “All right,” he warned, “don’t make any move that’s gonna get yourselves shot.”
Stunned, both men stood and stared for a moment, before realizing Perley was alone—then one of them reached for his pistol. There was little time to aim and no time to think. Perley’s reflexes took charge, sending a rifle slug into the man’s right shoulder, spinning him around. His partner threw both hands up when Perley ejected the spent shell and brought the Winchester to bear on him.
“Unbuckle your gun belt and let it drop,” Perley commanded. He glanced back at the man he had shot and warned him, “If you pick up that pistol again, the next shot is goin’ in your chest. Back away from it.”
The wounded man did as he was told and stepped away, his face twisted in pain from the shoulder wound, his arm hanging useless and bloody. His partner, having obeyed Perley’s order to drop his gun belt, found his voice when Perley didn’t shoot them both down.
“Whaddaya want from us, mister? There ain’t no gold here. It played out long ago.”
“I ain’t after gold,” Perley replied. “You two tried to murder my grandpa, and you murdered his partner and stole their horses. You’ve gotta pay for that.”
“Now, hold on there, mister. You got the wrong two men. Me and Sam, there, just happened to come along and find this old claim, just this mornin’. You didn’t have no call to put a bullet in his shoulder.”
“Is that a fact?” Perley asked. “You don’t know what happened to the two fellows who were workin’ this claim? How ’bout those horses—you find them here, too?”
“No,” the man replied. “We brung them with us. We’re in the horse-tradin’ business. We was on our way to Deadwood Gulch to sell some of these horses.”
“Can’t help but notice they’re totin’ four saddles and you ain’t got but two fannies to set in ’em,” Perley said. “That paint there belongs to my grandpa, and I can’t let you get away with that. You shot him and left him for dead.”
The outlaw was beginning to realize that Perley wasn’t cold-blooded enough to execute him and his partner. If he was, he wouldn’t have placed his shot in Sam’s shoulder.
“Listen, mister, there’s been a big mistake here—just hear me out. I ain’t no outlaw. My name’s Jed Riley, and my partner is Sam Ingram. The fact of the matter is, we bought these horses from two fellers yesterday. We didn’t know they was stolen. I don’t blame you for bein’ mad, and we’d be willin’ to stand before a judge if there’s one in that town upstream.”
All the while he talked, Riley shuffled casually to the side, until he had forced Perley to turn slightly to keep an eye on him. Aware that his partner was trying to create an angle too great to allow Perley to watch both of them, Sam moved slowly toward the six-gun he had dropped. Riley, seeing that Sam was thinking like him, kept talking, trying to hold Perley’s attention.
“What would it take to make you see we ain’t out to hurt nobody?”
“For one thing,” Perley replied, “maybe your partner can stop right where he is. ’Cause if he doesn’t, I’m gonna have to put the next shot where it’ll hurt.”
“You know what I’m thinkin’ now?” Riley asked, figuring the odds against him. “I’m thinkin’ you ain’t fast enough to cover both of us. If you fire that rifle at Sam, I’ll guarantee you I’ll put a bullet in you before you can crank another cartridge into the chamber and turn back around to shoot at me. If you shoot at me instead of Sam, he’s gonna put a bullet in your back. Ain’t that right, Sam?”
“That’s right, Jed,” Sam replied. “I ain’t hurt that bad. I can reach my gun before he can eject that shell.”
“That makes it kinda different, don’t it, friend?” Riley chided, noticing his partner still inching toward the .44 on the ground. “You still think you’re fast enough to get both of us?”
“I do,” Perley answered honestly.
“Well, mister, you’re a special kind of stupid,” Riley jeered, and suddenly went for the .44 on his hip.
Perley squeezed the trigger, dropped the rifle, and drew his Colt before Sam could pick up his pistol and cock it.
Caught with his pistol not cocked, staring at the Colt aimed at him and Perley patiently awaiting his next move, Sam Ingram looked death in the eye. Riley was bent double, lying on his side. After a moment, Ingram tossed his gun on the ground.
“I reckon you’ve kilt both of us,” he said.
Perley gazed at the thief and murderer, suddenly rendered pitiful. He felt disgust for the episode just finished.
“I reckon you both deserve to die, but you ain’t worth carryin’ on my conscience. You’ve got a bullet in your shoulder and your partner’s gut-shot. I don’t know if he’ll make it. You can make out the best way you can. If I see you again, I’ll finish the job.”
He pressed his fingers to his lips and whistled. In a few seconds, the big bay emerged from the trees and loped toward him.
“Sit down over on the other side of the fire,” he ordered, and Sam did as he was told, leaving his partner to lie where he fell. Perley picked up the dropped weapons and took them to the horses tied to the rope. While watching the two wounded men closely, he untied the rope between the trees and used it as a lead rope. He climbed into the saddle and started to lead the horses out of the camp, pausing only a moment to respond to Sam’s desperate plea.
“You just gonna leave us here without no horses or weapons to hunt with?” Sam cried.
“I reckon I could shoot you and put you out of your misery, but that would be too easy on you. If there was a lawman hereabouts, I’d turn you over to him, but there ain’t one, so I’m gonna leave your horses up the creek a ways, but I’m takin’ that paint and two others. You can manage any way you can.”
“We’re both wounded,” Sam protested. “You might as well shoot us dead.”
“I reckon it’ll be up to you to see how bad you wanna live.” He nudged Buck and rode out of the camp.
When he was about half a mile up the creek, Perley took the paint and the best two of the other three saddled horses, then left the remaining horses to graze on the creek bank. He was not sure whether what he was doing was right or not, but he didn’t have it in him to execute the two outlaws. It would be difficult for them, but he felt he was giving them a chance to make it to their horses and possibly survive. Why? He couldn’t explain. He just didn’t like the idea of shooting the pair when he had them helpless before him.
Sam Ingram watched helplessly until Perley disappeared into the trees. Then he went over to check on his partner, still lying doubled up on his side.
“You gonna make it, partner?” Sam asked.
“I don’t know,” Jed gasped painfully. “I’m shot pretty bad. You’re gonna have to help me.” He coughed up a little blood when he tried to say more.
“I will, partner,” Sam said. “I’ll take care of you.” He drew his skinning knife, grabbed Jed by his hair, and yanked his head back. One hard swipe with the knife laid Jed’s throat open.
When he was done, Sam stood over him and said, “If it was me ’stead of you, you’da done the same thing. He said he was gonna leave our horses up this creek. I don’t know if he will or not. I can walk outta here, but not if I have to carry you. We wouldn’t make it if I had to come back and try to take care of you. I’ve gotta take care of myself. That’s just the hand we was dealt.”
CHAPTER 17
It would be a couple of days before his grandpa was able to rid
e, and that was probably still too soon, in Perley’s opinion. But the old man insisted he could stay on his horse, especially since Perley had recovered his paint Indian pony.
“That horse fits me like a rockin’ chair,” his grandfather claimed. “He’ll rock me to sleep. You don’t have to worry ’bout me.”
Lena was now riding a saddled horse also, one that had belonged to Lem Wooten, as verified by Perley’s grandfather.
“That’s Lem’s horse and saddle, all right,” Grandpa said.
When Perley had taken it, he had no way of knowing if the horse was Lem’s or one of the outlaws’. He just took the best-looking horses. He also had two more—his own packhorse plus one that he brought back to replace his grandpa’s packhorse. He offered to let Mamie ride one of them, but she preferred to ride her mule.
“Me and horses ain’t ever got along too good,” she claimed. “Me and that mule understand each other, so I’ll ride easier on him.”
Perley had taken advantage of the time spent waiting for his grandpa to recover by using it to hunt, and he found that Grandpa had been right when he said the deer were coming back to the creek. So, there would be plenty of smoked venison loaded on the packhorses when they started out for Deadwood.
On the day before they left, Perley returned to the mining claim where he had shot the two outlaws. He found Jed Riley’s body still there, but the horses and his partner were gone. Perley lingered over the body for a moment, wondering if Riley would have made it had his throat not been cut. There was no way to know if his partner would be in search of Perley or not, but Perley’s gut feeling was that he would not.
The next morning, Perley led his little party out to strike the stage road to Deadwood, behind him one recovering old man, an optimistic widow, and a confident young girl. There had been a bit of reluctance on Mamie’s part when it came to abandoning her stove and her tables and chairs, but they had no means to transport them. She consoled herself with the knowledge that she would have everything she needed at her son-in-law’s hotel. Perley’s major desire at this point was to take his grandfather home to Texas, but a secondary obligation was to escort Lena and Mamie to Deadwood. He felt it was typical of so many of his endeavors, riding north when he should be heading south.
The Legend of Perley Gates Page 26
