by Jake Logan
“I’ll be all right,” Joiner said. “It’s just mostly scrapes and bruises, but I’m sure hungry.”
“I’ve still got the food we packed,” she said, standing up. “I’ll get it.”
“You stay put,” Slocum said. “I’ll fetch it in.”
“It’s in my saddlebags,” she said. Slocum went outside.
“Oh, Charlie,” Julia said, “I was so worried about you. I didn’t know if they’d killed you or what. Damn. I wish they were alive again so I could kill them again.”
“I’m just as glad they’re dead,” Joiner said. “Did John get all four of them?”
“He got three,” she said. “I got one.”
Joiner smiled down at her. “Good for you,” he said.
Slocum came back in with Julia’s saddlebags. He tossed them on the table, and Julia moved over to start rummaging through them. Soon Joiner was eating as fast as he could. Julia and Slocum let him eat as much as he wanted before they helped themselves to what was left. Finally Julia said,
“You need some cleaning up, Charlie.” While she got water and rags and started to work on Joiner’s face, Slocum found the coffeepot and coffee the four Mexicans had left behind and made some coffee.
Joiner looked a little better after Julia had finished with him. His clothes were still dirty and ragged, but that couldn’t be helped. Slocum put three cups of fresh, steaming coffee on the table and they gathered around to drink it. “How you feeling now, boy?” Slocum asked.
“I feel a lot better,” Joiner said. “I reckon I’ll be sore for a few days, but right now I feel pretty good. I can ride and I can shoot.”
“The only riding you’re going to do is to home,” Julia said.
“And we ought to get started pretty soon,” Slocum said. “I wonder how many more new gunhands old Harman has got.”
“What?” Joiner said. “Oh. You think these four was Harman’s men?”
“Who else?” Julia said.
“They wasn’t Harman’s men,” Joiner said. “John, the last time we met up with these four, you made them take off their pants.”
“Those rurales?” Slocum said. “Well, I’ll be damned.
Sons of bitches sure knew how to hold a grudge, didn’t they?”
Joiner burst into laughter, and Slocum joined him. When at last their laughter subsided, Julia said, almost angrily, “What’s so damn funny? Who were those men anyhow?”
“I’ll tell you all about it later,” Joiner said.
“They was just some old friends from south of the border,” Slocum added, and he and Joiner laughed again.
“Well,” Slocum said, “maybe there ain’t quite as much hurry as I thought. I think I’ll go out and round up their horses—and yours. Gather up all their firearms and ammunition. Maybe we’ll sleep here until early morning. Then head back.”
“What about the bodies of those men?” Julia said.
“The crows and buzzards need to eat too,” said Slocum.
“And coyotes,” said Joiner.
Slocum sauntered on outside. By the time he had cornered all the horses and put them back in the corral, picked up all the loose guns and ammunition, and trudged back to the shack, it was full dark outside. He found Julia and Joiner sitting on the edge of a bunk, Julia cuddling Joiner’s head against her ample bosoms. A lantern sat on the table burning low. There was still coffee on the stove, so Slocum poured himself a cup. He wished he had a bottle of whiskey. He did, however, have a cigar in his pocket. He pulled that out and lit it. Then he sat down at the table.
“How you feeling, Chuckie boy?” he asked.
“Aw, I’m all right,” Joiner said.
“Well,” Slocum said, “in just a bit I’m going to roll out my blankets outside. It’s a mite too stuffy in here.”
“I think I’ll do the same,” said Joiner. “I’ve been inside this damn shack too long now. Way too long.”
“You sit still,” Julia said to Joiner. “I’ll go out and fix our blankets. Then I’ll come back and get you.”
Slocum smiled. He recalled the way Myrtle had pampered him when he was laid up, and he figured that Joiner must be enjoying this at least as much as he had enjoyed that. If a man had a good woman, he told himself, it paid to get a little hurt now and then. They sure could make over a man. Julia got up and went outside. Slocum finished his coffee and followed her out. In another few minutes, all three were bedded down under the stars.
It was still dark when Julia, the first to wake up the next morning, rocked Slocum by his shoulder. He moaned, rolled his head, and opened his eyes. “I think we’d better get started,” she said. “I thought I’d let Charlie sleep until me and you get things packed up. Okay?”
Slocum agreed and crawled out from under his top blanket. “There’s fresh coffee inside,” Julia said. Slocum staggered into the shack and got himself a cup. While he sipped on it, Julia packed up everything of hers and Joiner’s except the blanket on which Joiner was still sleeping. In a few more minutes, she got a cup of coffee for Joiner, carried it out to him, and knelt beside him. She put the cup down near his head, then leaned over and kissed him gently to wake him up. “Good morning,” she said.
“Um,” Joiner said, “good morning, darlin’.” He raised himself up on an elbow, and then groaned out loud. “Oh, man,” he said. “I knew I’d be sore this morning, but I didn’t know how much.”
“Can you ride?” Slocum asked.
“Oh, hell, yeah,” Joiner said. “I ain’t got no choice, have I?”
Julia said, “You do have a choice.”
“What?” said Slocum.
“Well,” she said, “as long as we’ve stayed around this long, we might as well see if we can meet up with Mr. Thurman on the road. I’ll bet he’s driving a wagon or a buggy or something, ’cause I think Mrs. Thurman’s planning to come along with him. Mr. Thurman also said he’d be bringing along some of his hands. I bet they’re leaving about now. Maybe they’ve already started. If we ride out to the main road and wait a spell, they’ll likely come along in a bit.”
They polished off the coffee, packed up their things, and leading the four extra horses, headed down the trail. Julia rode close beside Joiner, sympathizing with his every groan as his horse jounced him along. It was still dark when they reached the end of the trail, but a sliver of light was showing along the eastern horizon.
“You think we’re here ahead of Thurman?” Slocum asked.
“I imagine so,” said Julia.
“I’d hate to sit here wasting time if you’re wrong,” Slocum said.
One of us could ride back toward Thurman’s place and see if they’re coming along,” Joiner said.
“Same thing,” Slocum said. “If they’re already ahead of us that’d be wasting time. I wouldn’t want you to be late for the meeting you called at your own place.”
“So what do we do?” Julia asked.
“Well,” Slocum said, “maybe we could wait a little while, but not for long.”
“We won’t have to wait for long,” Julia said. “Look.”
She pointed east along the road where the outline of a wagon and several horseback riders could be seen against the slowly widening strip of day light. “It must be them,” Joiner said.
“Likely,” said Slocum.
They waited patiently until they could at last recognize the riders. Julia said, “It’s them, all right.”
Thurman was surprised to see them, since they had been invited to spend the night at his ranch but had turned him down, so they had to give him a summary of the events with the unfortunate former rurales. Then, at Julia’s pleading, they put Joiner in the wagon. Slocum was introduced to the Thurmans and to the six cowboys who were riding along with them, and then they all resumed the journey back to Joiner’s ranch. Along the way, Joiner told Julia and the Thurmans the tale of what had happened in Mexico and why the four men had attacked him. When they had finished, Thurman said, “Now that we know all that, I have some news. Rather, Pet
e there has it. I’ll let him tell you.”
The cowboy called Pete rode out a little from the others. “Well,” he said, “like I told Mr. Thurman, I was in town last night, and I dropped by the Hi De Ho for a couple of drinks, you know. I happened to overhear some of Harman’s boys talking. Seems Harman give a wad of bills to one of his boys, the one they call Jelly, and Jelly’s headed somewhere up north to try to round up some more gunhands.”
“When did he leave?” Slocum asked.
“Well, that was last night,” Pete said. “I reckon he’s planning on leaving sometime this morning.”
“Is there only one road north out of Rat’s Nest?” Slocum asked.
“Just the one,” Pete said.
“Tell me what this Jelly looks like,” Slocum said.
“Aw, he’s about my size,” Pete said. “Wears a droopy mustache. He rides a little pinto pony.”
“That ought to be enough to go on,” said Slocum. “Now point me the quickest way from here to that road going north.”
“You going after him, John?” Joiner asked.
“Seems like the smartest thing to do,” Slocum said.
“What about the meeting?” said Joiner.
“You take care of it,” said Slocum. “I’ll get back as fast as I can. Now which way do I go?”
Slocum rode hard cross-country. He figured that he probably had plenty of time, but he wanted to make sure. If he could stop Jelly, they would still have only the nine remaining Harman men to deal with. No. Eight. Jelly would be out of the way. Eight, and that included Harman himself. If Jelly managed to get by, however, there was no telling how big a force Harman might gather with his money. Slocum was glad that Rat’s Nest was such an out-of-the-way place.
From the directions he had been given, he figured that he had made it about halfway to the road north. He had to slow down his pace to save the Appaloosa. Part of him wanted to continue rushing ahead, but he knew better. He rode easy, the image of a rider on a pinto headed north occupying his mind. He tried to think of what he would do with Jelly if he caught him in time. Just kill him? Recalling the rurales, he thought about making Jelly strip naked and continue riding north, but then he also recalled the wrath of the rurales at their humiliation. No sense in setting someone else up for something like that. Better to kill him and not have to ever think about him again.
When he thought that he had walked the Appaloosa long enough, he urged him into an easy lope. Then a hard run for a while. Then back to a walk. Finally he reached the road. He moved out onto it easily and looked toward town. No rider was coming. He studied the ground carefully, and the tracks there did not seem to indicate that anyone had ridden past recently. The sun was moving up in the sky. Slocum moved off the road. There wasn’t much cover, so he decided not to worry about it.
He pulled the saddle off the Appaloosa and let the horse loose with its reins trailing on the ground. Then he sat down beside the road and leaned back against the saddle to smoke the stub of cigar he had left. He made sure that his Colt was in a position where he could get to it easily. He smoked and he waited.
By the time the cigar stub was gone, the sun was halfway up the eastern sky. Slocum figured it to be around ten o’clock. The meeting was just about starting at Joiner’s ranch. He wondered if Jelly had left earlier in the morning than they had supposed, or maybe even the night before. Then he saw a rider coming. He saw that the man was on a pinto. It must be Jelly. He stayed sitting there beside the road, seeming relaxed. He waited for the rider to arrive.
When Jelly rode up even with Slocum, he stopped his horse, his right hand resting on the butt of his revolver. He looked hard and curiously at Slocum just sitting there. “What you doing there, stranger?” he asked.
“Resting,” Slocum said. “Anything wrong with that?”
“I guess not,” Jelly said. “You from around here?”
“Just passing through,” Slocum said. “Say, you got a cigar on you?”
Jelly reached for his pocket, then stopped. “Say,” he said, “why would I want to give you a cigar anyhow?”
Slocum shrugged. “They call you Jelly?” he asked.
“How come you to ask that?” Jelly said.
“If you’re Jelly,” said Slocum, “someone told me that you’d be riding this way. Said you was looking for good gunhands.”
“Who told you that?” Jelly demanded.
“Just some feller I run into this morning,” said Slocum. “Is it true?”
“Who wants to know?” said Jelly.
“Just an out-of-work gunfighter,” Slocum said.
“You don’t look like no gunfighter to me,” said Jelly. “Sitting in the dirt and bumming cigars from anyone comes riding along.”
“You want to try me?” Slocum asked. He put his hands out to his sides, so he wouldn’t appear to be threatening. Then he stood up. “Pick me a target, and I’ll show you.”
Jelly looked up the road. “See that there big rock off to the right side of the road?” he asked.
“Yeah,” said Slocum.
“Well, then, do you see the little one just in front of it?” Jelly said. “Let me see you hit that.”
Slocum pulled his Colt and fired, and the rock bounced. “How’s that, pard?” he asked. “You think I’ll do? I could sure use a job.”
“Ah, I don’t know,” Jelly said. “I don’t know you. Mr. Harman might not like it me bringing back a stranger. What’s your name anyhow?”
“What’s a name matter?” said Slocum. “I could tell you Smith or Jones or any damn thing. Slocum maybe.”
“It might matter to Mr. Harman,” said Jelly. “I—Wait a minute. Say, I heard that Slocum name before. You Slocum? You work for Joiner?”
Slocum stood facing Jelly. He didn’t answer the last question. He dropped the Colt back in its holster and watched Jelly’s face. Jelly suddenly slapped at his revolver, but Slocum’s Colt was out and blasting before Jelly could even clear leather. One slug tore into Jelly’s ribs just under his armpit. The second drove its way diagonally through his chest to exit through his left shoulder blade.
“Ah,” he cried. He jerked in the saddle. His head rocked loose on his shoulders. Then he slumped forward onto the neck of his pinto and hung there limp and dead. Slocum holstered his Colt and walked over to steady the pinto. He looked at the carcass hanging there. “I sure hope you was Jelly,” he said. He led the pinto off the road, then dumped Jelly’s body onto the ground. Kneeling beside the body, he gave it a quick search. He found a few cigars in the shirt pocket, and he took them out and stuck them in his own. There was a little money in the man’s pockets, but not much. He pulled the revovler out of the holster and tucked it into his own waistband. Then he stood and walked back to the pinto.
Checking the saddlebags, he found the real money. He didn’t bother counting it, but he could tell that it was a large sum. He stuck it back in the saddlebags, took the reins of the pinto, and walked to his Appaloosa. Then he mounted up and, leading the pinto, headed back toward Joiner’s ranch. With a certain amount of pleasure, he thought that Joiner’s ranch might be short of cattle, but all of a sudden it was developing a pretty good horse herd. Then he thought of the money in the pinto’s saddlebags. Logic said that Harman had earned it at least partially from Joiner’s ranch, so as far as Slocum was concerned, the money was Joiner’s. The little shit can afford to pay me something now, he told himself.
13
When Joiner and Julia arrived back at the ranch, along with Brick Thurman and his crew, there were already some other ranchers who had come for the meeting. They were gathered there on the porch. “Sorry we’re late, folks,” Joiner said.
Hindman said, “My God, Charlie. What happened to you?”
Myrtle rushed down off the porch. “Where’s John?” she said.
Thurman said, “Hold it now. We can’t answer everything at once.”
Joiner said, “John’s all right, Myrtle. He’ll be along directly. Let me get down out of this wag
on and go get myself cleaned up a bit, and Julia and Brick maybe can tell you everything that happened.”
Hindman helped Joiner down when he saw how stiff Joiner was, and then Joiner climbed the steps to the porch with moans and went on inside the house. A couple of men helped Julia out of her saddle and up onto the porch. “I’ll get you some coffee,” Myrtle said. Bobby gave Julia a chair, and everyone gathered anxiously around her. The Thurmans and their cowhands made it quite a crowd. Brick Thurman walked over to stand behind Julia. He raised his hands to quiet the crowd.
“We were headed back here yesterday,” Julia said, “from Mr. Thurman’s place. We met four riders on the road, Mexicans. They attacked Charlie, and Charlie made me run for it. I came back here and got John Slocum. I guess most of you don’t know John, but he’s been helping us. So we rode right back out there, where me and Charlie had been jumped, and we found them in that old line shack of yours.” She looked up at Thurman when she said that.
“My west line shack,” Thurman said. “Most of you know where that is.”
“I know it for sure,” old McCulley said. “Wintered there for you once years ago.”
“Go on, Julia,” said Thurman.
“Well,” she said, “there’s not much to tell from there. We sneaked up on them, and killed them all and rescued Charlie. They had beat him up real bad, but he’s all right, I guess. It’s just scrapes and bruises. Anyhow, it was so late by then that we stayed the night and waited to meet up with Mr. Thurman this morning to ride on back.”
“Mexicans, you say,” Hindman said. “Was they hired by Harman?”
“That’s what we thought at first,” Julia said, “but it turned out they weren’t. They were four rurales from south of the border that had an old grudge against Charlie and John.”
“Seems Charlie and old Slocum had made them take off their pants and walk a ways,” Thurman said. He and his cowhands, having heard the tale before, started laughing, and they were joined in what became raucous laughter by the whole crowd.
