Lone Jack Kid: The Return: A Western Adventure (Western Fiction, by Joe Corso Book 2) (The Lone Jack Kid)

by Joe Corso

  Grant was a little nervous having a large wolf walking beside Charlie. “Is that wolf always with you?”

  “I didn’t plan on having a wolf, but since I’ve had him, yeah, he goes everywhere I go.”

  Grants interest was piqued. “How’d you get him?”

  “I was traveling with a friend of mine on the old Butterfield stage route when I heard a noise. When I went to investigate I found a she-wolf who had just given birth, lying dead with an arrow in her. This guy and his brother were barely alive. I took one wolf and Percy took the other.”

  “Percy?”

  “Yes Percy Williams . He’s my doctor friend who rode the trail with me.”

  The President, led by his secret service detail, guided Charlie through the maze of hallways to the door leading into the garden. The President pointed to a table.

  “I’ve taken the liberty of having your guns brought here for the purpose of a shooting demonstration. I hear you’ve been appointed as a United States Marshal. Is that true?”

  “Yes, sir. My appointment is temporary, with the proviso that when I encounter a criminal my status is upgraded to ‘active.’”

  Grant examined the guns. “I see. Well, your appointment as a federal marshal calls for my congratulations. Now, put on your guns and let me see how you use them.”

  Charlie was surprised to see that these were the ivory-handled guns Buntline gave him as a gift while on their way to New York.

  Grant smiled. “I took the liberty of having my staff wire your brother, Robert, and he was considerate enough to send these to me.”

  Charlie looked around for something to shoot at besides the targets. “If you have some old dishes or billiard balls we can use, I think the shooting exhibition would be a little more dramatic.”

  The President called one of his aids over. “Lieutenant Fischer, bring us some dishes from the kitchen please.”

  Charlie motioned Ned Buntline over. “Ned, when we get the dishes, set them up the same as we did in New York, okay?”

  Neither Charles Longstreet nor the president knew that a special young lady was watching the handsome young gunfighter. She had read so much about him in those dime novels. She was Ellen Grant, President Grant’s beautiful young daughter, who everyone called Nellie. The large wolf snuggling close beside the young man made the young gunfighter all the more interesting to her.

  Charlie lined up a soldier on the opposite side of the field, just as he did when giving the shooting demonstration in New York’s Central Park. Charlie nodded and Ned gave the order to start throwing the dishes in the air. As they were thrown Charlie hit each one perfectly.

  One of the soldiers prepared to throw a dish, and Charlie was waiting for just such a hesitation. He whirled around and shot it out of the soldier’s hand. The unexpected move rattled the nervous man.

  The Lone Jack Kid’s shooting exhibition stimulated young Nellie. Strangely, the wolf didn’t seem the least bit fazed by all the gunfire. It was as if he was used to it.

  After this demonstration, Charlie motioned for Ned to bring a Winchester repeating rifle to the table.

  “Now, Mr. President. Why don’t you take a few shots at the target over there and make believe it’s one of us boys in gray.”

  The President smiled. “I won’t do that, Mr. Longstreet. I have too much respect for you boys to ever imagine I’m shooting at one of you. But if you don’t mind , and with your permission , I will imagine that your wolf is charging toward me.”

  Grant took the rifle and put five rounds in the center of the target in a very tight grouping.

  “That’s pretty good shooting, Mr. President. If all of you blue bellies shoot like that it’s no wonder we lost the war.”

  Grant laughed and slapped Charlie on the back. Grant liked Charles Longstreet, and he was enjoying letting his hair down with a regular soldier.

  “Come on, let’s get ourselves a drink of some real good whiskey and an even better Cuban cigar and I’ll tell you why I asked you to come to Washington.”

  They were about to retire to the Oval Office when the door opened and a beautiful young lady walked towards them.

  The President smiled. “Ah, here comes my one weakness. Charles Longstreet, allow me to introduce my daughter Nellie.”

  She smiled demurely and curtsied gracefully. When their eyes met he saw a hint of mischief in them . When she spotted Ban-Chu so close to her, she rushed to the protection of her father’s arms.

  Charlie laughed. “Don’t be afraid Nellie . He won’t hurt you.”

  Nellie kept a wary eye on the wolf but she relaxed a little and managed a polite smile. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Longstreet.”

  Charlie couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was beautiful.

  Grant noticed the chemistry between the two young people and was not happy with it. He had plans for his daughter, and a young gunfighter wasn’t part of those plans.

  “You’ll have to excuse us, Nellie. We have some important matters to discuss.”

  “I understand, father, and I won’t bother you again.” As she turned to go her gaze lingered momentarily, but longingly on Charlie.

  He didn’t want her to leave. He wanted her to stay so he could learn more about her, but the door closed behind her and she was gone.

  “Follow me, Charlie. It’s time we discussed why I asked you here.”

  The two men sat in the Oval Office sipping good whiskey and smoking excellent cigars.

  “Charlie, I asked you to Washington because I’m in a bit of a quandary. Have you ever heard of an Indian named Wild Eagle, Chief of the K aw tribe?”

  Charlie nodded. “Yes. I’ve not only heard of him but we’re blood brothers and I’m a member of the K aw tribe.”

  Grant just nodded, but Charlie saw the glimmer of a smile on his face. “And did you ever hear of an Indian called Black Elk, Chief of the Shawnee?”

  “Yes, I know him. As luck would have it he and I are also very close.”

  Grant let his breath out. “I knew it. I knew I had the right man for the job.”

  Charlie was confused. “What job, Mr. President?”

  “During 1867 and 1868 our government signed a number of treaties with the Indians. We’re talking in particular now of the Plains Indians. The Kiowa, Comanche, Apache, Senaka, Shawnee, K aw, Arapaho, Bannah and the Nez Pierce tribes. The Indians have suffered from the expansion of white settlers. I sympathize with them, but they must either conform willingly or they’ll force the United States to resort to armed enforcement of our rules. I prefer that they conform willingly. Look, Charles, I know how much life has changed for the American Indian, adhering to U.S. Government policies. They’ve been forced from their homes as we parceled out their lands to settlers. The plains, where they use to roam freely, are now occupied by white settlers White settlers now occupy the plains, where they use to roam freely . Now say what you will of the white man, but without him we would have no intercontinental railway system, no settlement of lands that were once thought uninhabitable and no expansion period. But the most egregious complaint they have is they feel the government has cheated them of their land, homes, and their food staples. Not only that, they are forced to live on reservations and forced to become farmers. These peoples aren’t farmers. They’re warriors, and the one thing I understand is a warrior. And I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be forced to endure what we are insisting they endure.”

  Charlie interrupted Grant. “Sorry, Mr. President, but you still haven’t told me what you want me to do.”

  Grant waved away his question and gave Charlie a hard stare. “Please don’t interrupt interrupt me. I’m getting to that. Chiefs Wild Eagle and Black Elk, and all of the tribes I mentioned, signed the treaty between the years 1866 and 1867, and now they distrust our government, and me in particular. I need someone they know and trust to explain that we are only trying to help them.”

  “Did you summon them here, Mr. President?”

  “No. I sent an envoy to p
arlay with them, but Chief Wild Eagle said he wouldn’t come to Washington unless his blood brother Char-lee was at the meeting. Black Elk said the same thing.”

  “But how did you know he meant me?”

  “We knew he was referring to you because he handed my representative one of Buntline’s books with your picture on the cover. So I gave them my word you would be here.”

  Charlie nodded and leaned forward. “I understand your concern, but I still don’t know what you want me to do. I won’t lie for you, Mr. President, and I won’t betray my friends’ trust. If I do talk to them it will be on their behalf. I will not mislead them or lie to them.”

  Grant nodded and smiled. “Good, that’s what I hoped you’d say. Come on. They arrived yesterday and my men met them and brought them here. They’re waiting in the conference room for us, and particularly for you, so let’s not keep them waiting. Oh, and by the way, I’m appointing you their Indian agent. That should make them happy.”

  Charlie shrugged his shoulders and frowned, but he didn’t say anything for a moment. “I don’t mean to sound disrespectful or ungrateful, Mr. President, but could you make the appointment a temporary one? Maybe with a title like ‘Temporary Indian Agent.’”

  President Grant was an old horse trader and he knew how to haggle over something important. “I guess we can come up with something we can both agree on. I don’t understand. I thought you’d like the job.”

  “I do, Mr. President. It’s just that I was thinking of settling down and buying a ranch and maybe getting married. This position put s a crimp in my plans.”

  Grant thought for a moment. “Supposing I appoint you to the position as Interim Indian Agent, and when I find someone capable and trustworthy, someone who will do the job, why, then I’ll relieve you of your job and give it to that person. How’s that sound?”

  “It sounds good to me, Mr. President. Now about the Indians. I don’t know if my being appointed Interim Indian Agent will make them happy, but at least they’ll have someone they trust representing the government.”

  Grant clapped his hands. “Good! Excellent. Now let’s not keep them waiting.”

  Chapter 38

  The two great Indian chiefs rose to greet Charles Longstreet when he and Ban-Chu followed the President into the large conference room. Murmurs could be heard among the other chiefs as they asked those sitting near them who this white man was who commanded such respect from the chiefs of the Shawnee and K aw tribes. And how did he get such an animal to follow him everywhere?

  Charlie walked over to Wild Eagle, took hold of his shoulders and smiled at him. “How does my brother like the great white father’s teepee?”

  Wild Eagle’s face broke out into a rare grin. “Too big for Wild Eagle. No grass, no buffalo, no squaw.”

  Charlie laughed in return at Wild Eagle’s levity. He turned to Black Elk.

  “My friend Black Elk. It is good to see you again. We friends must pow wow and smoke the pipe and talk of the good days.”

  Black Elk wanted to say much but he was afraid his English would not be understood. “When you come visit Black Elk?”

  Charlie smiled and patted both his friends on their shoulders. “Let us sit down and listen to what the great white father has to tell my brothers and then we will talk again.”

  All the chiefs had their eyes on the wolf, but Wild Eagle was the one person to ask. Charlie explained to the Indians, just as he had to President Grant. Black Elk asked Charlie what he called him.

  “Ban-Chu.”

  Geronimo pointed at Charlie and then at the wolf. “Ban-Chu.”

  It was as if Charlie had bestowed an honor on the Apache chief.

  Grant was confused. “What’s going on?”

  “I told the chiefs that my wolf’s name is Ban-Chu and they all were surprised, especially Geronimo.”

  Grant scratched his beard. “What in hell does Ban-Chu mean?”

  “It means wolf in Apache, and I guess Geronimo thought I was honoring him in some way by giving my wolf an Apache name.”

  “I see, and very interesting. Now it’s time to get down to business.”

  President Grant told the Indians he had heard their complaints and he promised to help the red man. “I know you are unhappy with the food, and the way you are being treated on your reservations. I will put an end to the injustices you are facing.”

  Geronimo and Naiche stood. “How will you help the Apache?”

  Wild Eagle and Black Elk stood too. “Or the Shawnee or K aw.”

  Grant raised his hands for quiet. “I have appointed a fair and decent man as your Indian agent.” He pointed to Charles Longstreet. “Stand up, Charlie, and raise your hand.”

  Charles Longstreet was sworn in as Interim Indian Agent. He would, as agreed by the Pres i dent, be replaced by another worthy man Another worthy man would as agreed by the President, replace him when the time was right.

  When the meeting was over and the Indians began to talk among themselves, President Grant tapped Charlie on his arm and asked him to come into the other room for a moment.

  “What is it, Mr. President?”

  “I hope you don’t mind but I took the liberty of having the best knife maker in the east create some very special knives as gifts for the chiefs. I prefer if you didn’t mention my name. Make it sound as if this were your idea and that these special knives are a gift from you. I know Indians appreciate good quality weapons. I would also like you to give our guests a demonstration of your shooting ability. They put a lot of stock in a man being a man. Besides, I want them to know that their Indian agent is not only a friend of theirs, but he’s also capable of handling himself.”

  Charlie nodded and suggested they also give the Indians a chance to prove that they were good shots too.

  Grant frowned. “I’m not sure I like that idea. What if one of them decides to shoot me?”

  Charlie shook his head. “To the Indians that would not only be disrespectful, it would be the act of a coward. A coward is something no Indian wants to be known as . Let’s take the chiefs out into the garden so we can begin entertaining them. If you can locate a few good bows and some arrows I think you also would be entertained.”

  A long table had been brought out and set down near the chairs, which had been placed there for the civilians and the military men who preferred to be seated. The military men especially were interested in seeing Charlie shoot. They had heard a lot about him, and having missed the shooting demonstration he gave the President, they were looking forward to watching the exhibition he was now planning to put on.

  Charlie called Wild Eagle to the table and removed the linen that hid the knives, which rested on their scabbards.

  “Go ahead, my brother. The first knife is for you. They are all the same so pick anyone you like.”

  The other chiefs, lured by the sunlight glistening off the knives like jewels flickering under candlelight, walked over to look at them.

  “Go on, my brothers. Each of you take one as a gift from the great white father and your friend Charles Longstreet.”

  Grant cringed when Charlie mentioned that the knives were a gift from the great white father, but he ground his teeth and kept quiet. The knives were a favorable surprise to the Indians, who had never seen such fine workmanship in a knife before. Even the scabbard was inlaid with turquoise, with a picture etched into the leather of an Indian chief, complete with a feathered headdress, and what appeared to be a likeness of Charlie opposite him.

  The presidential staff managed to secure four bows and a number of steel tipped arrows and placed them on the tables facing the targets. The Indians stood silently waiting for President Grant’s Indian interpreter to explain what was about to happen. The chiefs all nodded in satisfaction. This was more to their liking. They were men of action. There had been enough talk for one day, or even a week; but shooting guns and pulling a bow, now that was more to their liking. The interpreter asked for quiet then motioned for Ned, who had been absent during
the Indian talks, to take over. This was old hat for Ned, who had put on an exhibition like this in New York, and even had Charlie shooting up the stage every night in his Broadway show.

  Ned started with large objects, then threw smaller objects, with Charlie hitting every one of them. He shot the tips off poles stacked and spaced in the garden. When he was finished he told the interpreter to ask if any of the chiefs wanted to try hitting a target with his guns.

  Geronimo stood and asked the interpreter a question. He in turn asked the Captain of the Guard if there was a Winchester repeating rifle he could use. Charlie leaned closer to Grant and asked him to get two Winchesters.

  “It will do the Indians good to see the great white father shoot a few bullseye ’ s.”

  Charlie had watched Grant hit the target five times earlier in the day, so he wasn’t worried about him shooting in front of the Indians. Grant nodded and motioned for one of his officers to bring two Winchesters and a few boxes of ammunition. A short while later the guns and ammunition were laid on the tables. Grant was beginning to enjoy this. Charlie told the interpreter to tell Geronimo that the great white father would take the first five shots, then Geronimo would take the next five shots. Geronimo nodded with a serious expression on his face. Grant hit the target dead center five times in a tight grouping. Now it was Geronimo’s turn. The chief of the Apaches took the gun, loaded the ammunition into it and deftly raised the gun to his cheek. Without aiming he shot five times and hit the bullseye with all five shots. Grant smiled and patted Geronimo on his shoulder.

  “Very good shooting, Geronimo.”

  The interpreter started to explain what Grant said but Geronimo knew by the look on Grant’s face what he meant and it pleased him. The Indians respected a man who could fire a rifle and hit a bullseye.

  Some of the chiefs preferred to use the bow and arrow and they proved to be just as efficient with the bow as with the gun. When the day ended everyone was happy. The Indians felt that today, when they spoke to the great white father, they spoke to a warrior. When Charlie spoke to them they knew they had a warrior’s promise that he was their friend. More importantly, the white warrior was coming out to their territory to make sure the Indians didn’t suffer deprivations any longer. When the talks ended, they left for their homes, satisfied that justice would prevail.