by Jake Logan
His Colt jammed in his holster, he shook out a rope and began to build a loop. He pressed Spook harder and closed in on the runaway. When the loop passed over the horse’s ears, Slocum set on the brakes, and Spook set down. He reached down, caught the runaway horse’s reins, and led him back.
The crew had all the other horses caught. The dying man and the other two wounded ones were tied and then tossed in the wagon. The two dead ones were draped over their horses and tied down. Their operation was on the move again.
“You figure they can stop us?” Darby asked.
“No. But they’re tough.” Slocum shook his head. Speed was of the essence so that the big boys didn’t learn soon enough how to squelch his plans. Once he got these prisoners to Fort Smith, their lawyers could argue with the wind better than they could with Judge Parker.
“How are we getting them to Fort Smith?”
“I’ll let the marshals figure that out. There’s an office in Vinita.”
“When will we get there?”
“Midafternoon or so, I figure.”
“So we can hope Rensler has no idea that we’ve done this?” Darby asked.
Slocum nodded. “So far anyway.”
“I knew that’s why you’d taken their horses.”
With a nod, Slocum forced a smile. “We need to do all we can to get them into that hellhole under the courthouse.”
“Amen.”
At noontime they stopped and put fresh teams on the wagons. Anyone with a spent horse took one of the extras from the rustlers’ camp. The stop was short. Everyone and all the stock got a drink, except for the outlaws. Then they were going again eastbound.
Past the road to the railhead, Slocum eased up some. He must have enough of Rensler’s slaughter crew, not to mention five of his guards, that the man must be wondering where in the hell they were all at. But Rensler would need to either read tracks or go back to the killing site and follow Slocum’s group from there. He prayed for them to have to go back to the start. No telling.
By midafternoon, after pushing hard, all their horses had nearly given out. Slocum began to worry, and they took a short thirty-minute break at another watering hole. His men used a bucket, giving the rustlers a drink from the lip of the pail.
“I got to piss,” one complained.
“Well, piss in your pants. I ain’t getting it out for you.” Frank said, moving on to water the next one.
At six o’clock, according to the clock on the wall of the U.S. marshal’s office in Vinita, they arrived. The young clerk jumped at Slocum’s entry.
“I have more than twenty rustlers and killers outside that we need to ship to Fort Smith tonight.”
“Who? Who are you sir?”
“Who is your boss?”
“Under Marshal Ely Hindman.”
“Is he in town?”
“At home.“
“You go find him right now. These prisoners have a posse coming to rescue them. We’ll watch the jail.”
“This is highly irregular, sir. Oh, I will. Your name?”
“Slocum.”
The young man grabbed his hat and tore out of the office.
Darby had stepped back to let him fly past.
“How are we?” Slocum asked.
Darby nodded. “The extra horses and teams are at the livery. We left the wagons hitched up.”
“Good.”
So close. If their luck held, it would be because Rensler was so confident that he could do anything he demanded that he didn’t worry too much about his men being caught. Enough said. Slocum paced the office floor until a hatless older man burst in.
“What’s going on here? I’m Marshal Ely Hindman. Looks to me like you and your men are ready for war. Who are those men in the wagons?”
“If this was not dead serious, I would not be here, sir.” Slocum began to tell the lawman the facts, starting with the execution of his two cowboys. He finished with, “We set the trap and caught them. Five armed men tried to stop us. Three are dead, two are wounded.”
Looking impressed, Hindman shook his head. “You’ve cut down some tall timber.”
“What will you do?”
“I’ll have the railroad hook a freight car on the back of a passenger train and haul them to Muskogee in a few hours. Then have marshals waiting to take them to Fort Smith by wagon from there. That will be the quickest way and the hardest to interrupt. My clerk is en route and can take down depositions from them, and they will be incarcerated until the grand jury can meet. Parker won’t allow any bonds in a case like this for any of them.”
“There will be some angry, highly paid lawyers demanding their release.”
“Federal Judge Isaac Parker is not influenced by such men.”
“Good. I need to get back to my camp. Should I send along the two men who scouted their rustling and dug up the dead men to testify?”
“That would not be a bad idea.”
“I’ll send them and get back to the camp before the rest of the stock disappears. I have several head of horses that they used in this operation. How can you hold them?”
“I’ll slap a federal evidence hold on them, and they can’t be moved.”
“Good.” Rensler would have to replace them. Slocum wanted to smile. “You and your men can hold and load them on the train.”
“Yes. I have more help coming.”
Slocum stopped and turned back. “Sounds good. Is it legal to sell 2.2 beer in the territory?”
“Hell no, sir. Where are they doing that?’
“In the saloon in town.”
Hindman gave him a sharp look. “I can handle that matter too.”
Slocum gave Darby and Shooter, who were headed to Fort Smith with the prisoners, thirty dollars from his own pocket. Told them to take their saddles and to come back by train when they could. Then he rounded up the rest, who’d grabbed some food in a store, and they remounted their tired horses and headed back for home in the growing darkness.
Slocum hoped they did not meet Rensler and his men on the road. They could handle it, but he was so sleepy he could hardly hold his head up. A few hours out of Vinita at sundown, they moved off the road and found a sheltered place on the ground to grab some sleep, out of sight from the road.
Before noon the next day, he and his crew dismounted in camp and he hugged Katy. “Good to have you here.”
“How did it go?”
“We captured or shot all of them. They are on their way to Muskogee, and then they will be hauled to Fort Smith.”
“Wow, you did get lots done.”
“There will still be problems. We burned all of Rensler’s wagons. The railroad, I figure, will send in tough lawyers. But Marshal Hindman says that Judge Parker is not impressed by them.”
She hung on his arm. “Have these men eaten anything?”
“Not since last night.”
“I’ll go tell Hoosie. We’ll get something stirred up.” She took off on a run.
The short cowboy, Alex, caught him. “You’re still shorthanded, ain’t’cha?”
“I know, I should have left someone in Vinita to hire more help.”
“I can go see where there might be some hands. Let me ride out to Enid.”
“Think you can get some good men out there?”
“There’s liable to be some hanging around out there.”
“After we eat, get a fresh horse and go see.” Slocum dug some money out of his vest. “We can hold most of it together. We’ll need at least six more men.”
Alex nodded.
“Be careful. I figure this bunch we’re up against will want all of us all dead.”
Alex nodded. “I’ll be careful.”
Slocum clapped him on the shoulder. “Get it done.”
“I’ll get a fresh horse and get out there now.”
“Try to hire real ones.”
“I know them.” The short, bowlegged hand ran for the horse herd.
When she learned Alex was going for more help, K
aty took him some food. He waved, and after he ate, he leaned out of the saddle to kiss her on the forehead and took off.
“Crazy cowboy.” She came back shaking her head and looking a little red faced.
Slocum had a fresh cup of coffee and he laughed at her as she went by. “Guess you’re on his special list.”
“I sure didn’t expect that.” She went on by to help Hoosie.
How long would it take for Rensler to figure it all out? No way for Slocum to know for days. By then Rensler’s men should be in the Fort Smith jail or else their lawyers would have a stay on the law. Rensler had too much to lose. If anyone in that crew testified about the cowboys’ murders, they’d never stop the court from taking down Rensler and his whole operation.
The few hands Slocum had left rode out the next morning to turn the cattle back. Slocum had told them to be careful. He expected repercussions from Rensler, but he wondered when they would commence. With Rensler’s loss of his guards and slaughter crew, he’d be shorthanded for any response with much force. In fact it might interrupt them from feeding the track crew. A smile swept over Slocum’s face at the notion. Good enough for them.
He swept off his hat and went into the soddy. Katy greeted him. “What’s so funny?
“Nothing. Just glad we’re back to business.” He hugged her. Hell, it was better knowing that many of those rustlers were in custody. Maybe he had ended his trouble, but he still knew Rensler wasn’t through using his influence and the power of the railroads to push his weight around. There would be more trouble from him.
9
To Slocum’s shock, the next day a little before midday Alex brought in six new hands from Enid and set the girls to fixing more food. They rode up on some nags and a few good horses of their own. That didn’t matter; Slocum felt relieved to see them.
Alex had a small grin on his face when he leaned over the saddle horn. “We rode all night. These guys were all out of work. They were plumb excited to hear you needed help.”
Slocum looked over his new help. “Welcome to the Triple A camp. My name’s Slocum. We have lots of stocker cattle up here to look after. We spend our time keeping them in the lease’s borders and keeping an eye on them so we don’t lose them. If you run into any rustlers, do not try to handle them yourself. We lost two good men to them.
“I’ll go buy you each a five-horse string. Till then you will use other men’s horses. That’s Hoosie, the cook, Katy, my lady, and Buddy. They handle the meals. Glad to have you here. Blue will cut you out some horses.”
Then Slocum made a fast run to Vinita and lined up for Hank, the liveryman, to deliver him thirty-five horses at thirty bucks apiece. He filled out the check for $1,050 with a pencil on his saddle seat. The horses looked sound enough—he felt good about his purchases. To hell with Austin, he needed those men on horseback. Maybe even more men.
That evening with some hard riding, Slocum got back about the time the men came in. Alex introduced the new ones to the crew. “Meeker, he’s the redhead. Josh is the roper of these men. Shallot here is the guy shorter than me. Realing is the bald one, Grant is the tall one, and Ferd is the Frenchman.”
Then Alex introduced the other hands to the new men. Things were finally going smoother, Slocum decided.
Katy slipped up to him. “You must be worn out.”
“I’ll be fine. I did put some hard miles on Spook. I bought a few of those new ones for my own use.”
“I’ll go get you some food. Take a place,” she told him, and frowned when he started to protest. In the end, he surrendered and she brought him a heaping plate of food.
“No word on Rensler in town?” she asked, scooting in beside him.
“Yes, there was. The liveryman, Hank, said they about had a revolt out at the end of the track—no beef to eat yesterday, and he said Rensler was trying to buy draft horses or mules and wagons. They were pretty excited about the whole deal. But the Vinita livery is holding the teams we brought in as federal evidence. I think there were half a dozen good teams there that he’s missing. Plus some of his saddle horses.”
“Good. I hope they lynch him for what he did to those two hands.”
“I also think there are some flunkies in that bunch we shipped south that may have already sung like canaries before a grand jury about Rensler’s activities. He might have to shake a leg out of here.” Slocum shook his head.
“I hope so,” she said. “Man, us taking care of these cattle has become a big deal. It’s lots of work and costs money.”
“We’ll get paid. Then go on and do what we want. But I sure didn’t hear a whisper about them Hudson brothers though. I’m wondering if they’re working teams on slips up at the track laying.”
“You better be careful going up there.” She shook her head with concern in her eyes. “They may want you dead.”
“I’ll watch that.”
10
New men and new horses—things went to popping the next morning. Some of the new cow ponies jammed their heads between their front knees and went off bawling like a pained hog when mounted. A few of the dismounts were like the lady at the circus coming out of the cannon with no net to catch her. Of course, the rest of the hands cheered the men on and threw coiled ropes and hats under the upset ponies to increase the activity. The activity proved to be a real dusty setup and some of the onlookers had tears in their eyes from laughing so hard.
Slocum watched the event from in front of the soddy with Katy under his arm. Both were tied up in laughter. He’d not seen such a scene in years. And the bucking must have become contagious, ’cause some of the other horses had fits too.
The wild riding must have lasted for ten minutes before everyone’s horse was caught and snubbed up enough to allow every rider to climb back on and get a good seat. Several of the mounts “egg-walked,” but new men paired with old were soon off for the day of finding the stray cattle and sending them back onto the lease. A never ending job that kept the men in the saddle at least six days of the week. But Slocum was satisfied his crew would eventually have the matter in hand.
Again he went back inside for one more cup of coffee and a look at the books.
“You have a big show out there?” Hoosie asked.
“Yes, a big show.”
“No one get hurt?”
“They all looked all right when they rode out.”
“They are all wonderful men,” his cook said, busy rolling out pie dough.
“Oh, Hoosie, you’re like me. You like all men that ain’t mean and think they’re all wonderful,” Katy said.
“Maybe so. But if I knew that being a camp cook was going to be so much fun, I’d’ve been one lots sooner.”
Katy joined her in pie making and Slocum got out the camp books, wrapped in oilcloth to keep dry, and brushed most of the dust out of the pages. Then with a straight ink pen and inkwell he went to work recording his expenses. He’d been working awhile when he noticed the light from outside had dimmed. Must be clouds coming in. But when he turned his ear to the rumble of distant thunder, he set down his pen, went to the door, and looked to the north. A huge, dark wall of clouds was advancing, and the lightning strikes were riding the advancing storm’s face.
“Girls!” He stuck his head in the door of the soddy. “We need to grab everyone’s bedding and get it in here in the dry. Where’s Buddy?’
“Coming, boss man,” he said, coming inside with an armload of split stove wood and dumping it on the floor near the range.
Slocum could feel the ground trembling under his boot soles as the storm approached. Grabbing up bedding and war bags, they tossed them into the soddy and ran back for more. The sulfur smell of lightning and the winelike aroma of rain on the dust in the air filled his nose.
Soon he and his three helpers had most of the gear inside, and the storm had arrived. They collapsed inside the building, out of breath. By then, he felt they had 90 percent of the things in out of the rain. Then hail went to beating on the cedar shingle roof, and
looking out the door, he watched the quarter-size balls soon cover the ground. The temperature dropped twenty degrees. With the roar of the storm like a huge train passing over them, he hugged both women, who were holding their hands over their ears to muffle the sound. They literally were shaking under his hands. In flashes of lightning, he could see Buddy muffling his ears as well and sitting on his butt on the ground, trying to make it through the storm’s blast of sound and fury.
Then it began to rain in great sheets. All Slocum could do was hope his men were all right. For the moment, the four of them here in camp were safe enough.
“Wish we had a fraidy hole,” Katy said. “I’d even go sit in that dugout the last boss had up there.”
“Pray a little for the good Lord to take care of us and the crew caught out in this mess. But we sure needed the water.”
Katy agreed.
The rain kept up its onslaught and Slocum could imagine how the dry creek beds would soon be swollen with water. Flash floods caught many people unaware and swept them away. That notion worried him the most about his men when he thought about them out in it.
“When this lets up a little I’ll go ride out and check on the crew.”
“It don’t sound like that will happen soon,” Hoosie said, shaking her head. Both women sat at the table across from him, wringing their hands and looking around for the damage after every close lightning strike.
Thunder boomed and the ground shook some more. The bright flashes of lightning illuminated the room through the small windows. Falling temperatures made them hug their arms. Slocum finally lit a lamp and hung it overhead, busy wishing at the same time that the storm would move on.
Then the door flew open, and three drenched, masked men in slickers and armed with rifles burst into the room.
