Hickory Jack (Ben Blue Book 1)

by Lou Bradshaw

  By noon the next day, we were through the gate and onto MB range. We just moved them south and let them move at their own pace. I told Niño to go ahead and see about his grandpa, and I would follow as soon as these critters found a place to stop. He smiled and took off in a hurry. I liked that kid.

  The herd just sort of drifted south with some gentle encouragement from me. There was no rush. I got ‘em started and rode on ahead to see where I wanted to put ‘em. The canyons and breaks started only a few miles ahead. I found one with a good supply of water and plenty of grass. I had a feelin’ they’d be just fine.

  I left them, and they didn’t even notice I was gone. I’d give them a good look over the next few days and scout back in those canyons to see if there are any signs of lions or wolves. But right now, they seemed might well content. So I rode on to Rubio’s canyon.

  When I rode into Rubio’s compound, I was more than happy that I had sent Niño on ahead. They were both extremely happy and Rubio had a huge smile on his face, listening to Niño tell all about his adventure. I haven’t known many Indians, and I’m sure there were some that I’d not like near as much as I liked these two. But I couldn’t tell much difference between their feelings and my own. I remembered old Crazy Jim tellin’ me, “Boy, I never hated the Injun because he wanted to kill and scalp me any more than I hated the Griz because he’d likely try to kill and maul me. That’s just their ways.”

  I gave Rubio a good report on how well Niño did his job, but I didn’t mention that little bit of homesickness. I could see Niño was uneasy about that. He was a good scout. Rubio had a kettle of stew on, so I gave him what was left of that chunk of pork for the pot. It wasn’t near as big as it started out, but it was well cooked after so many fires. We ate and I pulled three silver dollars out of my pocket and gave them to Niño. Then I thanked him for his help.

  There was sadness in his eyes when I collected the roan. He knew I needed him, but still he had grown attached to the horse. It just couldn’t be helped.

  By the time I got to the house, it was near dark, so I went in and got a lantern to take with me to the barn. After stripping the saddle from Dusty, the pack from the sorrel, and the rigging from all three, I gave them all a good rubdown with some burlap, and then gave them some hay.

  Walking back to the house, swinging that lantern a little and feeling good but tired, all I could think about was getting some coffee started and finding something to eat. My lantern was suddenly smashed to bits just as the crack of a rifle shot reached my ears.

  Chapter 36

  I dove to my right, hit the ground and rolled twice. It was pitch black and I was on my belly. I didn’t remember drawing my gun but it was in my hand. I must have ripped the thong off getting it out like that. I’d worry about that later, right now, I was worrying about who had busted my lantern and why.

  Crazy Jim had said, “The first fool that moves is the fool that dies”. Well, this fool was gonna lay here all night if he had to. So I settled in for a long wait… and I waited.

  I could hear the horses stirring around behind me in the corral. I could hear sounds of the night, the wind through the sage, a night bird taking flight, and a small animal scurrying, but no sound of man. Time hangs like a lead weight when you can’t move. After what seemed like a week, but probably wasn’t much more than fifteen minutes, I heard the crunch of boot on gravel.

  My throat was dry, my eyes were burning, I itched all over, but every sense was on full alert. Another crunch and another, he was coming closer trying to locate me in the dark. I heard the clank of a foot against the tin base of the busted lantern. There were a few minutes of nothing but the quiet.

  There was the sound of movement and then a flash of light as he struck a match. He was hunkered down, sitting on his heels with the match in his left hand and gun in his right. He must have seen me almost instantly because he started to rise and dropped the match. I rolled left this time and he kicked up dirt where I had been, then he shot farther right. I shot at a spot between the muzzle flashes.

  I heard a God awful sound that I didn’t think a human could make. It sounded like a deep grunt, a sucking in of air, and a groaning whine all at the same time. The next sound was the sound of a man hitting the hard packed ground… then there was nothing. After about a half minute I could hear the sound of someone breathing.

  “Mister… I’m killed, mister. You got me right in the belly… I’m done. Can you help me a little?”

  “Toss that gun over towards me, and then light another match… and I’ll see what I can do for you.” I told him.

  His gun landed directly in front of me. I felt for it and picked it up… it was still warm. He struck a match and I could see where he was. He was about ten feet away, doubled over on his left side clutching his middle. I crawled over to where the busted lantern was, with my gun covering him all the time. Hoping that all the oil hadn’t spilled out, I struck a match and set it to the wick. It caught.

  I crouched and moved toward the downed man. Holding the flickering lantern at arm’s length with my left hand, I kept my gun on him until I got close enough to see him well. He was bloody and starting to feel the pain. “Friend, if you’ve got another gun, you’d better get rid of it pronto. Otherwise you’re not going have a very comfortable last few hours.”

  “Don’t expect much comfort.” He rasped. “But you got my only gun. The rifle’s with my horse.”

  “Let me take a look at you.” I said, and rolled him over as gently as I could. He had caught it just above the belt, and the way I saw it, he was gut shot good, or from his point of view – bad.

  “Mister, I don’t know if there’s anything I can do for you. You’d never make it to a doctor, and you wouldn’t last till I went to fetch one.”

  “Didn’t think so.” He said. “You got any whiskey. I could sure use a drink.” I told him that I didn’t keep any and through clenched teeth he said, “I got a half a bottle in my saddle bag… ‘bout a hundred yards back. I’d sure be grateful if you’d get it.”

  I left the lantern on the ground beside him and went back to find his horse. My eyes were used to the darkness by that time, and I had no trouble locating it. When I got back, I pulled the cork and handed him the bottle. Then I got busy building a fire, so’s he could get a little warmth and I could keep an eye on him better.

  I made a move to take his horse over to the corral and strip the rigging off, but he yelled, “Don’t leave me! I don’t want to die here in the dark alone.” I told him that I was just going to take care of his horse. He begged me to hurry. I came back with his bedroll and saddle bags. I was able to get him up a little and leaning against some rocks, and I put his blanket around his shoulders and covered him as best I could, and still leave him able to use the bottle.

  “What do they call you, Mister?” I asked, and he told me his name was Jake Mason. Then I asked him, “Well Jake Mason, why did you try to bushwhack me in the dark?” He said it wasn’t anything personal, that he’d been paid a hundred dollars to shoot me.

  “Who!” I asked, “Who paid you to shoot me and why?” I was shocked that anybody would pay that much money to have me killed. Maybe it was a kin of someone back down the line in Texas or Kansas… I had no idea.

  “Gentry… Clyde Gentry give me the money… I knew him back in Baxter Springs on the Missouri border… Ran in to him in Santa Fe a couple months back… sent word to come up here. All’s he said was he could get two birds with one stone.” He had a spasm of pain, I reckoned that some of that whiskey was reaching his torn gut, so I waited.

  “I didn’t really care about the reason, but I needed the money, and he was willing to pay it.”

  “But I don’t even know anyone by that na…” Yes I did. I had so often just referred to that whole gang as if it was one man, Amos Poke, the Judge, that I’d forgotten about the other one still on the loose… his cousin, Clyde Gentry.

  When I asked Mason how Gentry knew I was here he said, “Clyde said that he reco
gnized your horse. It used to be his horse.”

  So Gentry was here after all. I had seen him, but only for a brief moment, and that was over eight years ago. I was just a kid at the time and scared to death. I’d have to find a way to flush him, and when I did, I had a feeling that the judge wouldn’t be far away.

  Mason was fading in and out. He was in a lot of pain and he had lost a lot of blood. The alcohol was taking effect and his mind was roaming. He talked about his childhood and his mother. I asked if there was anyone I could write to, but he said no. I kept the fire going, and once when he was out I went in and made my own fire and got something to eat. I also made a strong pot of coffee and took it back out with me.

  Around three o’clock he woke and took another pull on the bottle and said, “Blue, you’ve been decent. Would you bury me where the coyotes an varmints can’t get to me… and say words over me? I don’t even care if they ain’t Christian words, but a man should have words said.”

  I told him that they’d be Christian words and not to worry, the coyotes wouldn’t get at him. I asked if he wanted his name on his marker, and he said he didn’t want anyone knowin’ where he was.

  If you do that for me, Blue, then I want you to keep my horse and my outfit. He’s a good horse and I know you’ll treat him right. He deserves better’n me.”

  I drank all the coffee I could hold, but I couldn’t help dozing now and then. I hadn’t gotten much sleep for the past few nights bringing in the herd. Niño was a good worker, but he was a kid and kids need more sleep.

  “Blue… Blue..” woke me.

  My head came up with a start, and I had to take a second to realize where I was. “What is it Mason?”

  “I’m sorry, Blue. I shouldn’t have taken the job.” His head slumped to his chest, and he was gone. The sun was just trying to find its way around that big mountain across the valley.

  I sat there for a few minutes and then went to get his horse. I went through his pockets and found about a hundred and fifty dollars in gold eagles. Some usual stuff and a note with the name Gentry and Taos scrawled on it. I put all that stuff into his saddle bag. Then I wrapped him in his blankets and tied him across his horses back. I buried him up in the timber and said the Lord’s Prayer over him. It was the only one that came to my mind. I hoped the Lord wouldn’t hold it against Jake Mason.

  By the time I got back to the house and had some breakfast, the sun had burned the chill out of things I went about my regular chores which weren’t many. I was hoping that my lax routine of keeping a fire going in the smokehouse wouldn’t ruin my meat. Well, if I learned from it, then I’d do better next time.

  I took the time to empty Mason’s saddle bags on the table. It was the usual stuff some extra socks and a shirt, there was a full sack of tobacco, some biscuits and jerky, matches, and an almost full box of 44 cartridges. I kept the cartridges; I had a feeling that I might need ‘em. Rubio could have the tobacco. The rest of it, I put back into the bags. I took a look at his rifle. It wasn’t as good as mine, but I kept it. His six gun was a good one, so reloaded it and dropped into my holster and tucked the other behind my belt after reloading. Taking a look at my holster, I saw that the rawhide thong had been ripped off. I must have been pretty determined to get that gun out. So I went ahead and did the repair work while it was on my mind.

  The next thing I did was take my boots off and curl up on my cot for a couple of hours of sleep.

  It was midday when I woke up. I splashed water on my face and shook it off like a big red dog. I drank some boiled to death coffee and ate a biscuit and some cheese. Then I rode out to visit with the sheriff and warn Andy.

  Bob was well rested and feeling good about getting out of the corral, so I let him set the pace. He knew what he could do and I let him do it. We were in town in no time. Well, less time than usual.

  When I walked through the sheriff’s door I found the sheriff, Andy, and another deputy talkin’ things over. “Howdy sheriff, Deputy Moore, and deputy somebody. You fellas open for business because I got a crime to report.” They all three looked at me.

  “Last night, some jaybird tried to shoot some holes in me. He was layin’ for me when I got to the house. Shot the hell out of my best lantern.” They wanted more, so I gave them the whole story, and the saddle bags. “He said that if I buried him proper and spoke over him, that I should keep his outfit. So I did. The stuff in his bags including the money is what he had on him. I’d feel funny spending money that was paid to kill me.”

  “Did he say who paid him?” the sheriff wanted to know.

  I said he did and cocked my eyes in the unknown deputy’s direction. I’ll give Sheriff Nelson credit for catching on real quick.

  “Carl,” he said, “why don’t you go catch up with Drake and tell him what Andy was tellin’ us.”

  When Deputy Carl was gone I finished my story, “It was Gentry, Clyde Gentry.” The sheriff didn’t recognize the name but Andy knew it. So I explained that Gentry was a cousin and lackey to Amos Poke. “He told Mason that he recognized my horse that it used to belong to him.’

  “Andy, you were in the front of the barn when the shooting broke out. Would you know the one who took off… the one who killed your pa? That would be Gentry.”

  “I don’t know, Ben. That was a long time ago and there was a lot going on. I know one of us shot the horse that fella was riding. His own horse got burned and was going wild, so he jumped on another and took off.” I told him that was the same way I felt. I just didn’t know.

  “Wal,” said Nelson. “You got any ideas on how to flush this hombre?”

  “No, I guess, I’m going to have to take a ride to Santa Fe and see if Jasper has any more strings to pull. Maybe some old wanted posters with pictures.”

  “Oh, Red, before you go. I guess you were right about trouble brewing over west of here. Andy went up to scout around and found Avery. He was shot in the back on his own doorstep.”

  “Yeah,” Andy said. “Got him plumb center. I found where the shooter had waited in a nest of rocks about two hundred and fifty yards away. Pretty good shootin from that distance. You can shoot a rifle like that, but I can’t. I only found one shell casing, and didn’t find any other bullet holes.”

  The sheriff looked me when Andy talked about my marksmanship. “Can you really shoot like that, Red?” I just smiled and shrugged.

  I told them, that I was going to go back to the ranch and pick up some things for the trail and head for Santa Fe in the morning, and probably be gone four or five days. As I walked to the door, I said, “You know that there Mason made a remark about ‘getting two birds with one stone’. You suppose, he was talking about bushwhackin me and Claude Avery?” But what we couldn’t figure out was any connection between me and Avery. Avery was having trouble with Pickering, and we were pretty sure he wasn’t Poke.

  I stopped at the post office in the Mercantile to pick up any mail I might have. It would give me something to read on the trail. I just stuck it in my coat pocket

  On the way back to the ranch, I swung by to say howdy to Sam and his granddaughter. I told them that I was kinda all a jangle and had a thousand things running through my head all at once. I was heading for Santa Fe on some old unfinished business. I also told them about the attempted bushwhacking the night before. Said I didn’t know the man or what he was after, but I figured it was someone with a grudge against the Clements. One of those Kentucky blood feud or something like that.

  I told Sam about the cattle I bought and that they weren’t in the greatest shape, but I figured a winter in those canyons would bring them along well enough. He agreed that the time to buy was when some fella needed cash more than he needed stock. And if they weren’t too far gone, they’d be all right.

  While Sam was talking about how cattle can thrive in those canyons without any help from man except to keep the predators off em, I was stealing glances at Patty over his shoulder. She sat there with her head slightly lowered listening. She’d changed a lot
in the last few months. Her face was sort of heart shaped, she had a cute little nose, and her lowered lids made her lashes look to be about a foot long. Her hair was the color of… well it wasn’t black but brown. Actually it reminded me of a dark bay stallion I had seen once, all dark, warm, and shiny. Except her hair was pulled back and tied with a ribbon at the back of her neck. It was all a-curl and wavy. Some of those curls had escaped the noose and lay around her face like a frame around a picture.

  I think the most striking thing about her was her mouth. It wasn’t a wide mouth, but her lips were full and kinda looked like an opening flower bud. The corners turned up slightly, so that she always looked like she was smiling about some secret thought. When she looked up and caught me staring, her eyes were wide and a soft blue. She smiled and tiny dimples showed on each side of her mouth. I was fair caught, and I knew it, but I didn’t care. That was an image I could keep for the rest of my life.

  Patty wished I would stay for supper, but I told her that I had a bunch of stuff to take care of before I left. I needed to take a look in on my cows and talk to Rubio about a few things. So she went into the kitchen and came out with a package of something that smelled mighty good. She said she couldn’t have me laid up somewhere on the trail dead from hunger. She said, “Rosa sends her love.” That couldn’t be anything but good news.

  After stopping at the house to put the precious package on the table, I changed horses and put a lead rope on the roan. Then it was off to Rubio’s. When I rode into Rubio’s door yard, he came out and greeted me with about as much enthusiasm and an Indian is likely to give. They don’t show a lot of emotion around whites.

  I unlashed Mason’s Winchester from behind my saddle and handed it to him. I told him that this rifle had tried to kill me last night, but couldn’t get the job done. I wanted him to have it to keep the lions and wolves away from his sheep and my cattle.