Slocum at Hangdog

by Jake Logan

  He didn’t see anything before he reached the rise. He stopped for a moment studying it. Picking the most likely-looking route, he headed up. He had just reached the top of the rise when he saw the man tied to the tree. He hurried over and quickly dismounted. The man looked dead, his head was hanging forward, and there was a rope tied tight around his neck. Stumpy lifted the head, and the man coughed. His eyes opened slowly, and he looked at Stumpy. “Just hang on a bit more, pard,” Stumpy said. “I’ll get you loose from there.” He pulled a bowie knife out of a sheath at his belt, and he sawed at the rope around Slocum’s neck. When he had severed it, Slocum let his head drop again, this time without choking. Stumpy sliced the ropes that bound Slocum’s arms around the tree, and finally he knelt to cut the ropes that bound Slocum’s bootless feet. Freed from the tree, Slocum nearly collapsed. Stumpy caught him and helped him to sit down.

  “You ain’t a rustler, are you?” Stumpy asked. “That’s a mighty peculiar way to hang a man.”

  Slocum shook his head. He couldn’t make any words come out of his mouth. Stumpy ran over to his horse and got the canteen, bringing it back to Slocum and offering a drink. Slocum drank greedily. Stumpy took it back, saying, “I think that’s about enough. Take it easy. Say. I don’t know how long you been there, but could you use some coffee and something to eat?”

  Slocum nodded, and Stumpy got busy building a fire. Soon, he had some grub cooking and coffee boiling. Checking it all, he walked over to Slocum’s horse and fetched the boots and the Colt back to Slocum. Holding them out toward Slocum, he said, “I’d bet these are yours.” Slocum nodded again and reached out for the items. He put them on the ground beside himself. Soon, Stumpy handed Slocum a plate, and Slocum ate like he hadn’t eaten in a week. Stumpy gave him a cup of steaming coffee, and Slocum drank it down like it was cold. Stumpy poured him some more, and he shoveled more food on the plate. When Slocum at last finished eating, he sat with a cup of coffee. He had some strength back. He was rested, and his throat was feeling some better.

  “I want to thank you,” he said.

  “Name’s Stumpy. Stumpy Morgan.”

  “Thanks, Stumpy. I’m Slocum.”

  “Say, if you don’t think it’s none of my business, just say so, but I got to ask. How the hell did you wind up like that anyhow?”

  Slocum told the whole story to Stumpy, beginning with the letter he had received from Mix sometime back.

  “Damn,” Stumpy said. “So who do you think hired this Rowland?”

  “I got no idea,” Slocum said.

  “You going back for him?”

  “What do you think?”

  “You don’t seem like no quitter to me.”

  “I’m going back,” Slocum said, “but I don’t mean to face him with this right off. He’d just deny it, and if I killed him, the sheriff would be after me. I’m going back and I’m going to do what I was doing all along. I mean to watch him and catch him at something. Figure out who he’s working for. Then I’ll get him. One way or another.”

  “You said your friend was pissed off at you. Told you to get out of town.”

  “I don’t need his pay,” Slocum said. “This is all on my own now.”

  “Yeah,” Stumpy said. “I can see why. But you got five men to deal with now, and you still don’t know just who to blame for all this trouble. It sounds to me like you’ve set yourself up for one hell of a job. Them ain’t good odds.”

  “The sheriff’s a good man,” Slocum said. “He just needs proof before he can do anything. But if I get the proof and it comes to a showdown, he’ll be with me.”

  “That’s a big if.”

  “I’ll get it, though,” Slocum said. “Either that or I’ll get myself killed.”

  “It means that much to you? Even after you got fired?”

  “It does now.”

  “Slocum?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You want a pard in this deal?”

  14

  Slocum and Stumpy did not head back right away. They both decided that Slocum needed a little time to let the sore wear off his ribs and get the circulation working right in his arms and legs again. To encourage the circulation, Slocum did what he could to help Stumpy with gathering firewood, building fires, boiling coffee, and cooking up grub. Slocum practiced pulling his Colt too. After another day and a night, Slocum felt like he was about as good as new. He was ready to ride. He and Stumpy saddled up their horses, rolled up their blankets, and mounted up. They rode along in silence for quite a spell. In the time they had spent in camp, Slocum had already filled Stumpy in on all the details of what had been going on back at Hangdog. He was a little surprised that Stumpy had elected to ride along with him and jump right into the fight, but he had seen stranger things happen. He liked Stumpy right away, and he guessed that Stumpy had liked him too. Sometimes things happen that way. Men hit it off right from the first. This seemed to be one of those times.

  “What are your plans, Slocum?” Stumpy asked. “Just hide and watch?”

  “I reckon,” said Slocum. “At least for a spell. If I can’t catch ole Rowland in the act or figure out who he’s working for, I might just have to prod him into a fight.”

  “Well, you just give me the word,” Stumpy said. “I’ll be right alongside of you.”

  When Rowland and his four new recruits came riding into Hangdog, Speer saw them. He felt a moment of panic. He had not yet seen Slocum, and it bothered him that the man Slocum had ridden after had come back to town first, and with reinforcements. He stepped out into the street in front of the horses. Rowland called a halt.

  “What can I do for you, Sheriff?” he said.

  “Where the hell is Slocum?” said Speer.

  “Slocum? How should I know?”

  “Don’t play games with me, Rowland. Slocum followed you out of town. I know it, and you do too.”

  “It’s the first I’ve heard of it. I haven’t seen him. Maybe he got lost along the way.”

  “You’re lying to me, but—”

  “But you can’t prove it,” said Rowland.

  “Well, you’re right about that—for now. Who’re this sorry-looking bunch with you?”

  “Why don’t we just kill him for talking like that about us?” said Rat’s Ass.

  “You could try it,” said Speer, talking more bravely than he felt.

  “Just hold on, boys,” said Rowland. “We ain’t starting no trouble here. Remember?”

  “So answer my damn question,” demanded the sheriff.

  “What question?” Rowland asked. Then he added, “Oh, yeah. These here are my associates. It seems that the job I took on was a little too big for me to handle alone. Don’t worry, though. Like I said, we’re not starting any trouble in your little town.”

  “I wish to hell I had a reason to slap your ass in jail.”

  Rowland grinned his wide grin. “I’ll just bet you do,” he said.

  “It’s been too long,” Speer said to Brenda. “Way too damn long.” They were sitting in her place during a slow time of the day. There were no other customers in the place. “Rowland came back yesterday. And Slocum left out of here following Rowland. Brenda, I’m scared to death that no-good gunfighting bastard killed him and left him out there somewhere.”

  “Give it a little more time, Thad,” Brenda said. “There could be some other explanation.”

  “I don’t know what the hell it could be.”

  “I don’t either,” said Brenda, “but something. There just has to be some other explanation. I’m not giving up hope. Not yet.”

  “Margaret,” said Ritchie, pacing the floor in his apartment in the hotel, “I’ve got to get my hands on a gun and go out there after Mix. He came to town to kill me, and if I wait around too long, he’ll try it again. The next time he might not be so open about it. I can’t just sit around here cooped up in this place. I have to be able to move around.”

  Margaret walked to him and put her arms around him. “Take it easy, James,
” she said. “Be a little more patient. I don’t want you to go out and get yourself killed. Something will happen soon. I’m sure of it.” She led him to the couch and made him sit down. Then she sat beside him. “I don’t want to lose you. So don’t go riding off half-cocked. You hear me? You understand?”

  Mix was fuming too. “We’d have shot it out if Speer had kept his nose out of our business. If he hadn’t come along when he did, it would all be over now. Either Ritchie or me would be dead.”

  “And what if it was you?” Helen said. “What am I supposed to do if you get yourself killed? Run this place by myself? With all the trouble we’ve been having? Don’t be a fool, Dave. If you get killed, it’s all over. We’ve lost. I can’t handle it alone. I’d have to sell out for whatever price I could get and then move on.”

  “Where would you go?” Mix said.

  “I don’t know. Back East, I guess.”

  “All right,” he said. “I won’t go riding into town after him again. I’ll stay out here and keep my eyes open. But I’m keeping a gun handy just in case.”

  It was the next day when Slocum and Stumpy came riding into town. Slocum led Stumpy straight to the sheriff’s office. They tied their horses and went inside. Speer almost jumped out of his chair.

  “Slocum!” he shouted. He came running around his desk to grab Slocum’s hand and pump it like crazy. “Slocum. Goddamn it. I’ve never been so relieved to see anyone in my whole life. Damn. I was afraid that Rowland had killed you when I saw him ride in and you hadn’t showed up.”

  “He damn near did,” said Slocum. “He would have if Stumpy here hadn’t come along.”

  “Stumpy?” said Speer. “Glad to meet you.” Now he pumped Stumpy’s hand. “Any friend of Slocum’s is a friend of mine. You sure done us a favor if you saved Slocum’s bacon.” He looked back at Slocum. “What the hell happened?”

  “I guess I let my guard down,” said Slocum, and he told Speer the tale of how Rowland and his new crew had slipped up on him in the night and how they had left him for a slow death. “I’d likely be buzzard bait already if Stumpy hadn’t come along.”

  “I wouldn’t have if them bastards hadn’t turned his horse loose,” Stumpy said.

  “Rowland bring them four into town with him?” Slocum asked.

  “Yeah. They’re with him. Let’s go arrest the bunch of them right now.”

  “We can’t do that,” Slocum said. “It’s just my word against the five of theirs.”

  “Well, there’s Stumpy.”

  “I’m afraid I never seen them,” Stumpy said. “I just come along and found Slocum.”

  “Damn it,” said Speer. “You’re right, I guess. If we was to take them to trial, they’d just get off. It’d be a waste of time and money. Damn.”

  “We’ll get them,” Slocum said. “Don’t fret about that.”

  “All right then,” said Speer. “Let’s go see Brenda. She’s been awful worried about you too.”

  “Let’s go.”

  They were walking toward Brenda’s Place when Rowland and his four cronies came out the front door of the hotel. They were obviously startled when they saw Slocum. They stopped still. Beebe and Rat’s Ass were about to go for their guns, but Rowland stopped them. Slocum, Speer, and Stumpy changed their direction and strolled over to face them. Rowland grinned and tipped his hat.

  “Howdy, Slocum,” he said. “It’s good to see you. The sheriff here has been mighty worried about you. He even thought that I might have killed you out on the road. I’m glad you made it back safe and sound.”

  “I’m sure you are,” said Slocum. “I just wanted to make sure you saw that I made it back all right. And I want you to know, all five of you shit-asses, that I mean to kill each one of you deader’n a buzzard-picked goat.”

  “Sheriff,” said Rowland, “you’re a witness. You and this cowhand here. You both heard Slocum threaten me and my associates here.”

  Speer looked at Stumpy. “Did you hear anything?” he asked.

  “I must have something in my ears,” said Stumpy. “I didn’t hear a damn thing.”

  “Come on,” said Slocum. “We’ve got places to go.”

  They turned and walked away from the gang and headed on toward Brenda’s Place. The five outlaws stared after them for a while.

  “There’s three of them and five of us,” said Rat’s Ass.

  “Don’t get cocky,” said Rowland. “I don’t know nothing about that cowboy, but Slocum’s top-notch. And that sheriff, from what I hear, ain’t no slouch.”

  “You don’t think we could take them?” asked Zeb Naylor.

  “I’d rather not try it out in the open,” said Rowland. “We’ll just wait for our chance.”

  Slocum and his two companions walked into Brenda’s Place and found her cleaning the tables, getting ready for the supper crowd that would start coming in soon. When she saw Slocum, she ran to throw her arms around him and hug him close and tight. At last, she turned loose and stepped back, a little embarrassed. She looked at Speer. “I told you,” she said. “Didn’t I?”

  “You sure did, and I’m damn glad you were right.”

  “Brenda,” said Slocum, “I want you to meet the reason I’m here at all. This is Stumpy. He sure enough saved me.”

  “Thank you, Stumpy,” she said, holding out her hand. Stumpy took off his hat with his left hand and shook her hand with his right.

  “It was my pleasure, ma’am,” he said.

  “Well,” Brenda said, wiping her hands on her apron and looking around the empty room, “find yourselves a table and have a seat. I’m going to fix the three of you the best meal you’ve ever had.”

  “Your crowd’ll be coming in soon,” said Speer.

  “Yeah? Well, you’re the first.”

  It was three o’clock in the morning when Rowland led his gang out of Hangdog. They had sneaked their horses out of the livery never waking old Morgan Dyer. If everything went according to Rowland’s plans, no one would ever know they had left town. Rowland’s employer had told him that it was about time for a showdown, and he meant to get it instigated this night. They rode slow and easy until they were out of town. Then Rowland whipped up his mount, and the other four followed his lead. They rode hard and fast out to Mix’s ranch. There they slowed down again. They moved slowly onto Mix’s range and rode until they spotted the cattle. There were a couple of cowhands riding slowly around the herd. One of them was singing a song.

  “All right, boys,” said Rowland, his voice low, “let’s take them.”

  Beebe and Cowley slipped out their rifles. They each cranked a shell into the chamber and raised the rifle, taking careful aim. Beebe fired first, but only an instant before Cowley. They lowered their rifles and watched as the two cowboys fell from their horses.

  “Come on,” said Rowland. They moved in on the herd, which had already started stamping around nervously. It didn’t take any effort at all to get them moving. They only had to turn them in the right direction. Rowland rode fast ahead of the others. He rode until he came to the fence that separated the Mix range from the Ritchie range. Leaping out of his saddle, he ran to the fence with his wire cutters and snapped the four strands of barbed wire. He hurried back to his horse and mounted up again. Paying out his lariat, he swung a loop and roped a post. Wrapping the end of his rope around his saddle horn, he nudged his horse and pulled up the fence post. He kept going until he had pulled up several of them and dragged them and the wire off out of the way. And just in time. Here came his four riders chasing the herd. They drove the herd through the opening he had created and onto Ritchie range. When all the cattle were through the fence, Rowland yelped at his men, and they turned around and rode back through to the Mix side. They kept riding until they were at the ranch house. Rowland pointed toward the big barn off to their left, and Cowley and Zeb Naylor headed for it. At the same time, Rowland, Beebe, and Rat’s Ass moved toward the house. Rowland watched the barn until he saw the beginnings of flame creeping up o
ne side. Then he drew his sidearm and fired through a window of the house. Beebe and Rat’s Ass did the same. Cowley and Naylor were riding hard to join them. As soon as they drew close, Rowland yelled, “Let’s get out of here.” The five men rode hard back toward town.

  It wasn’t long before the hands at Mix’s place were roused up by the sounds of the fire. They grabbed their boots and ran for buckets. When Mix and Helen came out on the porch to see what was going on, all hands were busy fighting the fire. Mix ran to help them. He could tell, though, that it was a lost cause. The best they could do would be to keep the flames from spreading. The horses in the nearby corral were already spooked. Helen ran to the corral and pulled loose the pole that served as a gate. Then she went into the corral and shooed the frightened horses through the gate. The horses ran wild. The hands would have to round them up later. Right now, there was the fire to worry about.

  They fought the blaze for most of the night. When the fire was finally out, the barn was a total loss. As tired as they were, some of the men went out looking for the horses. A few of the horses were close enough that they were rounded up shortly. The men who got them saddled them up and rode out looking for the rest. Helen went in the house and put some coffee on. They would be wanting it. The sun was peeking over the far horizon when one of the riders came back in and found Dave Mix surveying the damage.

  “Boss,” he said, “there’s more bad news.”

  “What the hell is it?” said Mix.