Rio Loco

by Robert J Conley

  “Okay,” he said. He got hisself against the wall just inside the doorway right opposite to where I was at. He watched for a bit, and then said, “Now?”

  I said, “Ever’one go to shooting.”

  I couldn’t see no one over there to shoot at, so I just shot into the winders. I think ever’one else was doing the same, but we had such a barrage a-going that it kept the Chugwater boys’ heads down so that they weren’t shooting back at us. Churkee bolted. He run low and in a wiggly line, but only a couple a’ bullets hit the dirt somewhere near his feet while he was a-running. When he got close to the shed, he made a dive, and he rolled up right close to Bonnie where she was a-setting. I seen her give him a hug like as if she were sure glad to have him there. I thunk, though, that it was not much of a greeting for him to be bear-hugged like to death. But I was sure glad that Churkee was over there with her. Sly moved over beside a’ me.

  “What now, Barjack?” he said.

  “We need to try to get them three back over here with us,” I said. I puffed on my cigar like as if it were going outta style.

  Sly give me a look. “Barjack,” he said, “if we were to blow up a stick of dynamite right in front of the hotel, that should distract them for a minute while Miller gets Bonnie and Owl Shit back over here.”

  My eyes musta lit up at that suggestion. I don’t know why in hell I hadn’t thunk about it my own self. I opened out my jacket and pulled out a stick a’ that stuff. I helt it out for Sly to look at. “You want me to throw it?” he said.

  “I think you got the best arm,” I said.

  He tuck it in his right hand and helt it out for me. I puffed on my cigar and then tuck it and touched the lit end to the fuse on the dynamite. It caught of a sudden and went to spewing. Then he stepped outside and even a few steps out in front a’ the mill, and the rest of us went to shooting to keep the heads acrost the way inside and give him a chance. Sly reared back and flung that dynamite about as hard as he could fling, I reckon. I watched it arc way up and over, a-slinging a trail a’ fizz as it went on its way. Sly come a-diving back in through the open front door. He hit the floor and rolled, coming back up on his feet. That spewing stick landed just in front a’ the porch a’ the hotel, and in another couple a’ seconds, it blowed.

  Churkee figgered out what we was a-doing, and he grabbed Owl Shit and said something to Bonnie, and the three of them come a-running back to the mill. In the background, behint them, there was a shower a’ dirt as big as anyone coulda wanted. No one in the hotel coulda saw nothing through that cloud. My ears was a-ringing from the sound a’ the blast. Churkee hit the front a’ the mill and shoved Bonnie in first; then he shoved Owl Shit through the door, and final he come through hisself. The smoke and dust cleared about then, and the Chugwaters went to shooting again. We was all of us a-huddled back outta sight, though, and the bullets wasn’t doing us no harm.

  I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed Bonnie and give her a bear hug a’ my own. I slobbered a kiss on her too. When she got over her astonishment at what I had did, she squeezed me back and like to stopped my breathing, and then she slobbered a great big kiss on me. Whenever I recovered, I stepped back so I could look her in the face, and I said, “Bonnie, my darling sweet tits, I was never so glad to see you before in my whole and entire life. You ain’t hurt, is you?”

  “Oh, Barjack,” she said, “I’m all right. But I am sure as hell glad to be back with you.”

  “Bonnie, you done real good out there,” I tole her, and I meant it. “It were a stroke of genius the way you knocked ole Owl Shit off a’ that bridge. I’m so proud a’ you I just don’t know how to tell you.”

  “Barjack,” she said, and she went and squoze me again.

  The gun shooting had started up again by then, so I broke loose and went back to the winder. I seen a couple a’ bodies laying out on the ground. I don’t know who done it, but someone on our side had got in a couple a’ good shots. I figgered at best they was only sixteen a’ the bastards left over yonder. I were looking for something to shoot at, when of a sudden about eight or ten a’ the sons a’ bitches come out the front door a’ the hotel with their guns a-blazing. They had decided on a full frontal assault against us, and they was a-coming hard and fast. I didn’t have much time to think about it. I just jerked another stick a’ dynamite outta my pocket and lit it with my cigar, and then I stepped out and throwed it. I felt a couple a’ bullets tear through my coat, but I never felt none of them tear through me.

  “Look out,” one a’ the bastards yelled when he seen what I had did. Then they all stopped and turned and started to run off in different directions, but they wasn’t fast enough. That dynamite landed in the big middle a’ the shit-asses, and in another second it blowed. This time I watched the big cloud go up, and I seen it carry some bodies with it. I ain’t sure how many of them it kilt, but there was at least five bodies laying around whenever the dust died down.

  “Good shot, Barjack,” said Sly.

  “Aw, hell,” I said, “they was a-coming at me, getting closer.”

  “Barjack, you dirty skunk,” said Owl Shit, “you cheated.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I said.

  “We had all agreed,” he said. “This was supposed to be an exchange a’ prisoners. You cheated whenever you went to shooting.”

  “Well, hell,” I said, “the situation changed whenever you fell off a’ the bridge.”

  “I never fell,” he said. “I was pushed.”

  “You wasn’t pushed,” said Bonnie. “I knocked your ass off into the crick.”

  “It was still cheating,” he said.

  “Owl Shit,” I said, “I’m just going to say one more thing about it and that’s all. All bets was off whenever your snake-in-the-grass bastard brother went and tuck a woman, my sweet Bonnie, for a hostage. Any man what would make war on a woman ain’t deserving a’ no considerations. And I don’t want to hear you say nothing more about it neither. That was the last word.”

  He opened his mouth like as if he wanted to say something more, but he thunk better of it and kept quiet. I pointed to an old box setting over against the wall. “Now set down there and keep your yap shut,” I said, and he did.

  I went back to the winder looking for a target. Happy and Butcher was both a-sniping at something over there. Dingle was setting way back outta the way a-scribbling. Bonnie was right beside a’ me looking out the winder. I could tell she were just a-itching to get into the action.

  “Did anyone bring me a gun?” she said.

  I looked back at Dingle. “He ain’t using his,” I told her. “Take it.”

  Bonnie went back and snatched the rifle what Dingle had brung along. He glanced at her as she done it, but he never said nothing. I reckon he was about as busy as he could stand it already. Bonnie come back beside a’ me and looked out the winder. Just as she did, a Chugwater puncher stepped out on the porch with a rifle and tuck aim at us. Bonnie shouldered her rifle right quick and snapped off a shot and dropped that son of a bitch right away. I hugged her and kissed her fat cheek, and she grinned real big.

  The shooting from across the crick slowed down and like to stopped. I don’t know how come. Could be they was getting picked off too easy and needed a break. Anyhow, I was getting kinda tired of it all my own self. I asked ole Sly, “How’d you like to toss another stick a’ dynamite?”

  “Just fine,” he said, so I pulled out another one and give it to him. Then I puffed on my cigar again and lit the fuse. “I’ll get it closer this time,” he said, and he stepped outside. A couple a’ bullets hit near him as he stepped on out farther, and then he hove it with all a’ his might, and he turned and come a-running back in. It flowed high and real purty this time. I liked watching it sail through the air and a-knowing what would come whenever it hit. This one was a grand throw. It landed on the roof over the porch, and when it blowed, sticks and splinters went ever’where.

  It was a truly wonderful blast, a cloud a’ smoke and d
ust and wood, and when it went to clearing some, we could see that the porch roof was plumb gone and part a’ the front wall a’ the building was gone too. What was left was on fire. Several cowhands had come a-staggering and coughing through the cloud a-holding their hands up over their heads. I looked for Chugwater, but I couldn’t find him. I stepped out in front a’ the mill with my Merwin Hulbert in my hand, and ole Sly, he stepped out beside a’ me. I reckon that Owl Shit, he couldn’t stand the tension, so he jumped up from where he was a-setting and come running out to stand beside us and see what was going on.

  “Are you boys a-giving it up?” I yelled out.

  “We quit, Marshal,” one of them yelled. “We don’t want to get blowed to bits.”

  “Throw your guns down in the dirt,” I said, “and come a-walking slow over that bridge.”

  They all done what I tole them to do. They throwed their guns down and walked to the bridge and come a-walking over it. I called out to Happy and Butcher, “Keep these boys all covered. March them around to the back a’ the mill and hold them there.”

  “Let’s go,” Happy said, and they started in to walk, but I stopped them.

  “Hold it a minute,” I said. “Is they any more a’ you over there in that hotel?”

  “No one but the boss,” said one a’ the cowhands.

  “Are you sure a’ that?” I ast him. “If I find out there’s any more a’ you cowboys still over there, it’ll go hard on you.”

  “No,” he said. “There ain’t no more. Just only Chugwater. He wouldn’t quit. He called us chickenshits and told us to go on ahead. He said he didn’t need us nohow.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Take them on away.”

  Happy and Butcher marched them on outta sight. I turned to Sly. “What do you reckon we’d ought to do now?” I said.

  “We could march on over there and go looking through the building. What’s left of it.”

  “We could,” I said.

  “I wouldn’t recommend it, though.”

  “No?”

  “Nope. He could be lurking in one of those rooms and waiting to drop us from ambush.”

  “Yeah.”

  “How much dynamite you have left?”

  “Couple a’ sticks,” I said.

  “Let’s toss them and see what develops.”

  I drawed one of them out and give it to him. He helt it out while I lit it, and then he went and heaved it all to hell. It flowed right through that open front wall where the last one had blowed it out. We waited a minute, and then we heared the blast. It were a bit muffled on account a’ it were actual on the inside a’ the house. But it done a lot a’ damage. The side wall on our left collapsed with the explosion, and most a’ the rest a’ the roof fell on in. Whenever the dust settled, we looked for any sign a’ life, but we never seen any. I looked at Sly.

  “Maybe he went out the back door and tuck his horse and ran off,” I said.

  “We won’t know till we go over there,” Sly said.

  “I ain’t anxious to walk in there to what might could be a trap,” I said. While we was standing there a-studying on it, Churkee come out. He had heared what we was a-saying.

  “You still got one stick a’ that dynamite?” he ast me.

  “Yeah.”

  “Let me have it.”

  I pulled it out and give it to him, wondering what the hell he had in mind. He helt it toward me to light, so I lit it. Then Churkee went to walking over the bridge. He helt that stick out the side as he walked, and he walked right acrost to the other side a’ the crick. That fuse was a-sizzling all the way. Then he walked right up the hotel, where the porch had been, and he stepped up and went into the building, or what was left of it. Then he disappeared from view.

  In another minute, we seen him come a-running back out like a bat outta hell, and whenever he come to that open space what had used to be a wall, he tuck a headlong dive, and just as he hit the ground a-tumbling, the old hotel blew up, and whenever the blast was a-dying down, so was the old building. There wasn’t nothing left over yonder but only a big pile of busted-up boards and stuff. There wasn’t no Chugwater to be seen nowhere.

  Chapter Nineteen

  We all had a real calm and quiet night, even with ole Owl Shit still a-setting in my jailhouse, but I had gone on ahead and turned a-loose all a’ my extry depitties. Chugwater were out loose somewheres, but he didn’t have no cowhands left to attack us with. I figgered I’d ride out to his ranch in the morning and see were he hanging around out there or not. I’d take ole Happy with me and leave Butcher to watch the jailhouse and Owl Shit. I’d left Butcher set up overnight to watch Owl Shit anyhow while the rest of us went to our own sweet beds. I, of course, was snuggled down with my sweet nipples Bonnie in our bed upstairs in the Hooch House, and I can tell you, we didn’t go right to sleep that night neither.

  So in the morning, after I’d had my breakfast and several cups a’ hot coffee and a good tall tumbler a’ brown whiskey, and Bonnie were still sleeping soundly upstairs, I got holt a’ Happy Bonapart, and me and him rid out to Chugwater’s place. We rid in real careful, and then we stopped and stared at the house. The place surely did appear to be deserted, but I weren’t about to take no unnecessary chances with a skunk like Chugwater.

  “Do you think he’s there, Barjack?” Happy ast me.

  “I don’t think, Happy,” I said. “I just don’t know. All I know for sure is that we never kilt him, and he got outta town.”

  I nudged my ole horse on and eased him up to the front porch. Happy come along with me. Still a-watching the house, I clumb down outta the saddle. I stood there for a spell once again and stared at the house. Happy follered along. We tied the horses and stepped real easy up onto the porch. There was still nothing, so I put my hand on the door handle and tried it. The door come right open. I let it swing wide, and I drawed out my Merwin Hulbert six-shooter. Happy drawed his Colt. We went on inside, me first and Happy a-follering. We stood there in Chugwater’s big living room and looked around. Neither Chugwater nor no one else poked his nose out to see who was messing around in his home. Final I said, “Let’s search the place.”

  We went around from one room to another and we never seen no one. “Barjack,” Happy said, “it seems like all a’ that fighting and killing was all for nothing. Owl Shit’s still a-setting in the jailhouse. Chugwater’s lost his entire ranch crew. He’s a-loose somewheres, but nothing’s really changed except for Chugwater’s ranch.”

  “It weren’t all for nothing,” I said. “We still got our prisoner. That’s what it was all for, and don’t never forget that.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said.

  We went back outside and climbed onto our horses. Then we rid around the ranch a bit a-looking for any signs a’ life. We didn’t see none but ’cept cattle. Before we left, I went back inside a’ the house and lit it afire. Then we rid off a space and set and watched the place go up in smoke and flames. Chugwater wouldn’t have no home to go back to. Well, I didn’t want them poor cattle to be neglected and starve, so I had Happy help me, and we driv them on over to my ranch and turned them a-loose with what few animals I had over there. Now I had such a damn big herd I figgered I would have to hire me a crew a’ cowboys to watch over them.

  I hadn’t never wanted to be no big shot cattle man, but now I didn’t have much choice. I would have to find me a damn good foreman somewheres. I set for quite a spell a-studying and contemplating my new herd and thinking about my new status as a rancher. I final reckoned that it was fitting and proper that I was moving up a little in the world. I was already rich, and it weren’t quite proper to say that I was a rich marshal and a saloon owner. A rancher was a heap more respectable. So I would become a rancher, and them other two things would just be my sidelines so to speak. At last I tole Happy let’s get our ass back to town, and we rid out.

  Back in town I had Happy to relieve Butcher, and me and Butcher went on over to the Hooch House and set at my private and personal table. Bonnie were
down by that time, and she were a-setting with us. I made up my mind that I were going to get good and drunk that night. Ole Aubrey brung me a tall tumbler a’ my favorite whiskey, and I went to work on it. By and by Churkee and his Polly come in and set with us. I ast Churkee what it was he intended to do with his life, and he said that he didn’t have no plans.

  “What do you know about herding cows?” I said.

  “I worked a few ranches back in the Cherokee Nation,” he said.

  “Could you maybe ramrod a place?”

  “If I had one I could,” he said, “but I ain’t got no money to get a ranch.”

  “Well,” I said, “it just so happens that I got a pretty good one outside a’ town. It has a nice little ranch house what just needs a little fixing up, and it’s got a good-sized herd a’ cattle now. All it needs is a good crew to work it for me. You interested?”

  “I reckon I could be,” he said.

  “I growed up on a ranch,” said Polly.

  So I figgered it was settled, and I went back to my drinking. By God, I thunk, I had come a long ways for a little snot-nosed kid from New York City what had run away from home on a damn freight train. Well, I went on and got good and drunk that night and slept real good again. Whenever I woked up in the morning, I learnt that Churkee and Polly had went out to my ranch, so I reckoned that it was indeed settled. They had went out and tuck up residence. I were real glad for that, on account a’ I could have my big ranch and big herd a’ cattle and not have to worry over none a’ it. That’s the way I wanted it. But I learnt right quick that things was far from settled.

  About the middle a’ the afternoon, them two come a-riding back into town and found me at my reg’lar spot in the Hooch House. I could tell by the look on their face that they was some kinda trouble. They come up to my table and set their asses down, and, “Barjack,” said Churkee, “we got problems out at your ranch.”

  “What kinda problems we got?” I ast him.

  “Me and Polly rode all over the place this morning,” he said, “and we never seen one cow.”