Slocum at Hangdog

by Jake Logan

  “I found Hal and Hembree out on the range. They was shot dead. The cattle’s been drove off. I follered the trail. They went through a hole in the fence over to Ritchie’s place. The wire’d been cut.”

  “Ritchie!” said Mix.

  “That’s where they went.”

  “Cattle drove off, barn burned, fence cut, and two more dead men,” Mix said. “Well, by God, Helen’s not talking me out of it this time.” He turned and stomped his way back to the house.

  Slocum was asleep, but Stumpy could not sleep. He was sitting up in Slocum’s hotel room. He thought about going downstairs to see if the saloon was still open, but he was afraid that he might wake Slocum getting dressed and out the door. He stood up and walked sneakily over to the window to look idly out, and he saw Rowland and his four hoot owls riding slowly into town. He watched as they made their way to the livery and took their horses inside. He kept watching. Soon Rowland peered from around the front door and looked up and down the street. He stepped out and motioned with his arm, and the other four came out behind him. Glancing around as they moved, the five skulking men made their way to the hotel. When they came up to the front door, Stumpy lost sight of them.

  He wondered what they had been up to. It had to be something no good. They had been out riding in the middle of the night and had come back into town sneaking all the way. He decided to wake Slocum, and he stepped over to the bed and joustled him by the shoulder. Slocum opened his eyes.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Them five, Rowland and the others, they just this minute come sneaking back into town. They’d been out riding somewhere.”

  Slocum got up and pulled his clothes on in a hurry. He and Stumpy left the room and went down the stairs. As they went out of the hotel by the front door, Stumpy said, “Where are we going?”

  “Livery,” said Slocum.

  Inside the livery, they found the five horses. They were lathery. They had been ridden hard. Just then old Dyer came walking up hoisting his galluses up over his shoulders.

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

  “Check these horses,” Slocum said. “These five men have been out somewhere, and you’re a witness.”

  15

  Mix and his wife rode into Hangdog with a couple of cowboys. There was safety in numbers, and Helen had insisted on it. They did not go after Ritchie, however. They went straight to the sheriff’s office. And they did not go packing guns. Not after Speer’s threat to Mix the last time they met. Their six-guns were stashed in their saddlebags, though. After hitching their horses at the rail in front, the four riders all went into the office. Speer was there, sitting behind his desk. He looked up when they came in.

  “Dave, Miz Mix, boys, how are you all? What can I do for you today?”

  “You can go after Ritchie,” said Mix.

  “Hush up, Dave,” said Helen. “Let me handle this.” Mix turned away sulking. “Sheriff Speer,” she continued, “last night we were hit again. Someone cut our fence and drove our cattle onto Ritchie’s place. They killed two of our riders. And they burned our barn. We’re lucky that our house didn’t catch fire.”

  “Did you see anyone?”

  “Of course not,” Mix snapped.

  “I’ll have to ride out and investigate,” said Speer.

  “And—” Mix started to say.

  “And have a talk with Ritchie,” said Speer.

  “I think you’d ought to throw his ass in jail,” said Mix.

  “Dave,” said Helen, “let the sheriff do his job.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” said Speer.

  “If he would,” mumbled Mix.

  “Is there anything else you can tell me about what happened last night?” Speer asked.

  “I’m afraid not,” Helen said. “We woke up to the noise of the fire. There was no one around by then.”

  One of the cowboys said, “I found the bodies and seen where the cattle was drove through the fence. I rode back to the house to tell the boss.”

  “All right,” said Speer. “You all go on back home now and leave this to me.”

  “Come on,” Helen said. Mix and the two cowboys followed her back out to the horses, where they mounted up and rode back toward the ranch. Speer strapped on his six-gun, took a rifle out of the cabinet, put his hat on his head, and walked out the door. He was walking toward the livery when he spotted Slocum and Stumpy.

  “Hey,” he called out. “You boys come along with me.”

  “Where we headed?” said Slocum.

  “Mix’s place,” said Speer. “They got hit last night.”

  Slocum and Stumpy looked at each other. Then they fell in step with the sheriff headed for the livery. “In that case,” Slocum said, “Stumpy’s got something to tell you too.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Rowland and his rowdies come riding back into town in the wee hours this morning,” Stumpy said.

  “We went down to the livery and checked their horses,” said Slocum. “They’d been rode hard.”

  “There’s got to be a connection there,” Speer said. “Let’s go on out to Mix’s place and look it over before we do anything else, though.”

  “All right.”

  Rowland and his cronies were still asleep when Slocum, Stumpy, and the sheriff rode out of town. They’d had a long and hard night. Rowland was the first one to wake up. He washed his face in the bowl on the table and took his time getting dressed. His four bad men were asleep on the floor. He was about to pull on his boots, but first he gave Beebe a swift kick in the butt. Beebe sprang up. “What?” he said. “What?”

  “Wake up the others and get dressed,” said Rowland. “You don’t need to sleep away the whole damn day.”

  “We got something to do?”

  “I just told you. Wake the others up.”

  They were soon all dressed and ready to go, and Rowland said, “Go over to the eating place and order me up a breakfast.”

  “Just you?” said Rat’s Ass.

  “No,” said Rowland. “Order for all of us. I’ve got to go have a brief meeting with our boss, but I’ll be right along.”

  “What do you want?” said Rat’s Ass.

  “The usual.”

  Rowland waited till the four were out of sight. Then he started on his way.

  Beebe, Rat’s Ass, Cowley, and Zeb Naylor all walked over to Brenda’s Place. They walked in and found a table and sat down. Rat’s Ass pounded on the table with his fist. Brenda came out and made her way to their table. “What’ll it be, boys?” she said.

  “How about a little kiss?” said Rat’s Ass.

  “What do you want to eat?” Brenda said in an icy voice.

  Beebe ordered five breakfasts, and Brenda looked at him questioningly. “There’s another feller coming along,” he said. Brenda walked away to get the meals started. Then she brought out five cups and a coffeepot and poured the cups full. She turned to walk back to the kitchen, but Rat’s Ass grabbed her by the arm. “Let me go,” she said.

  “Now, pretty little gal,” said Rat’s Ass, “you and me will get along just fine.”

  “Your breakfasts will all burn up,” she said.

  “Let her go,” said Beebe.

  Rat’s Ass loosened his grip, and Brenda stomped away. Beebe leaned toward Rat’s Ass. “Rowland’ll kick your ass good,” he said. “He told us not to start no trouble in town. Remember?”

  “Hell,” said Rat’s Ass. “I wasn’t starting no trouble. Just talking to my sweetheart. She liked it too.”

  “Didn’t hardly look that way to me,” Beebe said.

  “Shit. You just don’t know nothing about women.”

  “I know enough to tell when one’s pissed off.”

  The door opened and Rowland walked in. He made his way to the table and sat down. Picking up his coffee cup, he gave it a tentative sip. It was still hot enough. “You get our food ordered?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” said Beebe. Rat’s Ass gave Beebe a
look, but Beebe paid it no mind. He’d let it go if Rat’s Ass would. About then, Brenda came back with the plates. She distributed them all around.

  “Anything else?” she asked.

  Rat’s Ass grinned up at her. “Just what we talked about before,” he said.

  She turned quickly and walked away. Rowland watched her go. Then he looked at Rat’s Ass. “What was that all about?” he asked.

  “Aw, nothing,” said Rat’s Ass. “I just asked her for a little kiss. That’s all.”

  “Grabbed onto her too,” said Cowley.

  “Pissed her off good,” added Zeb Naylor.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” said Rowland. “Eat up.”

  They were about finished with their meals and had not had any refills of coffee. Rowland got up and walked to the kitchen door. He rapped gently on the door. “Ma’am,” he called out softly. “Ma’am, could we please have some more coffee?” Brenda jerked the door open and gave him a hard look. “I’m sorry about that fella’s behavior,” he said. “It won’t happen again. Could we have some refills? Please?”

  “Okay,” she said. She refilled their cups and went back in the kitchen. Rowland took out a slim cigar and lit it. They drank their coffee. Rowland’s cigar was about half smoked.

  Rat’s Ass said, “I want some more coffee.”

  “You don’t need no more,” said Rowland. “Let’s go.”

  He stood up, and the other four did too. Rowland dug into his pocket for some money. Brenda was still in the kitchen. He told the others to go on outside, and he went back to the kitchen door and rapped again. When Brenda opened the door, he handed her the cash.

  “I’ll have to get your change,” she said.

  “You keep it,” Rowland said. “Maybe it’ll make up a little bit for my friend’s bad manners.”

  He tipped his hat, turned, and headed for the front door. Brenda stood staring at him until he was out of sight.

  Outside, Rowland walked past the other four. “Come on,” he said. They followed him between two buildings and around to the alley. He stopped walking abruptly, turned, waited till Rat’s Ass was just about up to him, then smashed Rat’s Ass in the side of the head with a hard and unexpected right cross. Rat’s Ass sprawled backward in the dirt. His right hand went to his hurt jaw, and he looked up at Rowland with wide eyes.

  “Get up,” Rowland said. “Get up.”

  Beebe and Cowley reached down and hefted Rat’s Ass to his feet. Rowland hit him again and again sent him sprawling. This time, Rat’s Ass’s hand went for his six-gun, but before he could budge it, Rowland had his own gun out, cocked and aimed at Rat’s Ass’s gut.

  “Try it,” Rowland said.

  Rat’s Ass slowly moved his hand away from his weapon.

  “I told you to behave yourself in this town,” said Rowland, “didn’t I?”

  “Well, yeah, but—”

  “Shut up. Didn’t I?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I ain’t going to say it again,” said Rowland. “Next time, I’ll kill you.”

  Rat’s Ass struggled to his feet. “There won’t be no next time, Boss,” he said. Without another word, Rowland turned and walked back toward the main street. The others followed him. Rat’s Ass mumbled, “He damn near broke my fucking jaw.”

  Out at Mix’s ranch, Slocum, Stumpy, and the sheriff examined the ground around the cut fence. Slocum found a boot print there where it might have been made by the man who cut the fence. It wasn’t particularly distinctive, though. He dug his fingers into the ground. It was soft. He examined the dirt and grass and wrapped a bit of it up in his bandanna, poking it into his pocket. They rode over onto Ritchie’s land and found the stolen cattle. Then they back-tracked and rode to the house. The barn was a total loss. They found the hoofprints of several horses, but they couldn’t be sure just how many, and they found more boot prints, but there were so many prints made by the cowhands trying to put out the fire that none of them were of any use. While they were looking at the ruins of the barn, Mix came out of the house. He stomped over to the ash heap near the sheriff, and he pointed a finger at Slocum.

  “I don’t want him on my place,” he said. “He’s not working for me anymore. I told him to ride on out of here.”

  “You can fire a man,” said Speer, “but you can’t make him leave the country.”

  “Well, I don’t want him on my property.”

  “He’s working with me,” the sheriff said.

  “That’s all right,” said Slocum. “I’m just leaving.”

  “So are we all,” said Speer. “Let’s go.”

  They mounted up and rode away, leaving the fuming Mix coughing in their dust. On the ride back to town, they talked about what they had found. “Do you think Ritchie had anything to do with it?” Speer asked.

  “No,” said Slocum. “It’s too obvious to anyone except Davey. He’s so damn mad, he can’t think straight.”

  “That’s kind of what I was thinking too,” Speer said.

  “Someone’s trying to stir up a range war?” Stumpy said.

  “That’s what it looks like,” said Slocum.

  “I bet it’s that Rowland,” Stumpy said.

  “Almost for sure,” said Slocum, “but he’s working for someone.”

  “We got to find out who that is,” said Speer. “What if I was to throw Rowland in jail and we was to watch his boys? They don’t appear to be too bright. They might lead us to someone.”

  “They might not know who it is,” Slocum said. “He brought them in later.”

  “Yeah. That’s right.”

  “Well, I don’t know about you boys,” said Stumpy, “but I’m about to starve to death.”

  “I’m kind of hungry myself,” Slocum said.

  “We’ll hit Brenda’s Place soon as we get back to town,” Speer said.

  They rode straight to Brenda’s and went inside. Brenda was leaning over with a dustpan and a broom. The sheriff and Stumpy went to a table, but Slocum stood watching Brenda. She straightened up and turned. Slocum said, “What you doing there?”

  “Oh, nothing much,” Brenda said. “Some customer came in here with dirty boots. That’s all. I’ll be right with you.” She headed for a trash bin, but Slocum stopped her.

  “Let me see that,” he said.

  She handed him the dustpan. “Whatever for?” she said.

  Slocum put the pan on a table and reached into his pocket for his bandanna. He placed the bandanna on the table beside the dustpan and unwrapped it.

  “Who was sitting here last?” Slocum asked.

  “It was that Rowland and his—”

  “Associates, he calls them,” said Speer.

  “Come over here, Sheriff,” said Slocum.

  Speer got up and walked over to stand beside Slocum. He looked down at the table.

  “What do you say?” Slocum asked.

  Stumpy walked over to take a look as well.

  “It’s the same stuff,” said Speer.

  “I’d say so,” Stumpy added.

  “This here,” said Slocum, pointing to the dustpan, “is what Brenda just swept up. She said that Rowland and his crew was the last ones to sit here.”

  “I heard her say that,” said Speer.

  “Me too,” Stumpy added.

  “And this here,” said Slocum, indicating the dirt in his bandanna, “I picked up out at the fence at Mix’s place. Right there by the boot print. Where the man cut the fence.”

  “So Rowland cut the fence,” said Stumpy.

  “We knew that already,” said Speer.

  “But this is proof,” Slocum said. “Brenda, do you have a napkin or something I can have?”

  She fetched one over right quick, and Slocum poured the dirt out of the dustpan into it. He wrapped up both small bunches of dirt and handed them to Speer. “There’s your evidence, Sheriff,” he said. “And us three here are your witnesses.”

  Speer stuffed the two bundles into his vest pockets. “So what do we do
now?” he said. “Arrest them?”

  “Let’s think about that while we eat,” Slocum said.

  “I like the sound of that,” said Stumpy.

  “I’ll get you some grub,” said Brenda, and she walked into the kitchen. The three men sat down at a table. In a minute, Brenda brought out the coffee. Then she went back to the kitchen to tend to the cooking. Slocum lifted his cup and took a long sip of hot coffee.

  “Our problem is still the same,” he said. “If we arrest Rowland and them, we still don’t know who hired them.”

  “You’re right about that,” said Speer. “I sure hate to keep letting that son of a bitch run around loose, though.”

  “Me too,” Slocum said. “I just can’t think of any other way.”

  “You all don’t think that Rowland, if he was sitting in a jail cell, might not tell on his boss?” Stumpy asked.

  “He might,” said Slocum.

  “But I don’t think so,” Speer said.

  “Neither do I,” said Slocum. “He just don’t seem like the type to tell.”

  16

  Rat’s Ass had been pouting ever since Rowland had bashed his face. He did not believe that he deserved such treatment. Rowland had not as yet paid the four men anything, and Rat’s Ass felt cheated. At the same time, he did not want to confront Rowland about this issue. He decided at last that he could get another job as easily as he had gotten this one. He was going to leave. He wanted nothing more to do with Rowland. He wanted to kill Rowland, but he didn’t have the guts, and he admitted that fact to himself. He waited until night when Rowland and the others were asleep. Slowly and carefully, he stood up from the floor. He picked up his gun belt and his blanket roll. Throwing the blanket roll over his shoulder, he picked up his boots. Tip-toeing to the door, he stood there for a moment figuring out how to open it. He laid the gun belt carefully over his other shoulder, turned the key in the lock, opened the door just enough, and went through. In the hallway, he shut the door again as quietly as possible. Then he crept down the hallway to the top of the stairs. There he buckled the gun belt around his waist. He sat down on the top step and pulled on his boots. Standing up, he walked down the stairs.

  There was no one at the desk. He strolled across the lobby to the front door and went out onto the street. He was walking toward the livery when Slocum spotted him from his hotel room window. Slocum thought about waking Stumpy, but decided against it. He continued watching until Rat’s Ass came out of the livery leading his horse. He mounted up and rode north out of town. Slocum wondered what was going on. This was the first time any of the bunch had ventured out alone. He pulled on his boots, strapped on his Colt, and put his hat on his head. He was about to go out the door when Stumpy rolled over with a moan. Seeing that Slocum was headed out, Stumpy sat upright.