Lone Star Ranger

by James J. Griffin

  Captain Quincy and the men with him, as well as Nate, who was now with them, had stopped just beyond the circle of lamplight. Quincy’s voice sliced through the night like a knife.

  “Any trouble here, Mr. Hennessey? We can take care of it if we need to. There’s four guns pointin’ at those hombres right now. Just say the word and we’ll drop ’em right where they stand.”

  The three riders, startled, caught unawares, with their guns still holstered, jerked around at the sound of Quincy’s voice. The man holding the horses tried to slip a rifle from its scabbard. Quincy put a bullet into the ground between his feet.

  “Try that again and the next one’s through your belly, mister,” the captain warned. “Now, you get up on the porch with your friends. All three of you, drop your guns, then raise your hands. No false moves. Remember, there’s four guns pointed right at your middles.”

  “He’s got the drop on us, Mal,” the horse holder said, as he stepped onto the porch, unbuckled his gunbelt, and let it fall. He companions followed his lead.

  “Don’t worry, Fred,” the apparent leader answered. “We’ll get this all straightened out in a minute, once we can explain to these men why we’re here.” To Hennessey, he said, “Mind if we come inside and palaver? It’s right cold out here, and we’ve been ridin’ all day.”

  “We’ll handle this, Charlie,” Captain Quincy said, as he stepped into the light with his men on either side of him. “Y’all just stand hitched,” he ordered. “We can talk right here. I heard you claim you were lawmen.”

  “That’s right,” the leader answered. “I’m Deputy Sheriff Malcolm Prentiss. My pardners are Deputies Fred Hayes and Jesus Montalban. We’re out of Dona Ana County, over to New Mexico Territory. We’ve been trailin’ two wanted outlaws.”

  “You’re a bit out of your jurisdiction, deputy,” Quincy answered. “Just so you know who you’re dealin’ with, I’m Captain David Quincy of the Texas Rangers. These men are Rangers Kelly, Morton, and Stewart. Now, I don’t know how you do things up in New Mexico, but here in Texas, we generally frown on people who go bustin’ into innocent folks’ homes without a good reason.”

  “We’ve got a good reason,” Prentiss answered. “I told you, we’re after two wanted men. Now, as Rangers, if you’ve seen those men, you can help us find ’em, and turn ’em over to us, all nice and legal-like.”

  “Who you have no idea might be in this house, except they headed in this direction,” Quincy answered. “And we’re sure not gonna help you unless you give us a good reason. You can start by givin’ us their names.”

  “Those men are killers,” Prentiss answered. “They go by the names of Curly Thomas and Deke Vance. They gunned down four men in cold blood, at a saloon just outside Las Cruces.”

  “I assume you’ve got proof of that. And also proof of your identities,” Quincy answered.

  “Sure we do, Ranger. But could you at least tell us if you’ve seen those men?” Prentiss said.

  “Charlie, what were the names of those men who rode in here just ahead of the storm?” Quincy asked.

  “Thomas and Vance,” Hennessey answered. “They claimed they were lookin’ for jobs. My foreman told ’em we weren’t hirin’, but that they could stay here for a few days, to rest themselves and their horses. They’re in the bunkhouse right now, I’d imagine. At least, I haven’t seen ’em ride out.”

  “There, you see, Ranger. Those men are here,” Prentiss said. “Now, we’ll just take them off your hands.”

  “Not quite so fast, Prentiss,” Quincy said. “You seem awful eager to get your hands on those hombres.”

  “Of course we are, Ranger,” Montalban said. “We’ve been on their trail for a long time, and want to get home. Now, can we have them?”

  “Not yet,” Quincy answered. “I want to hear their side of the story first. And, of course, you do have warrants, as well as extradition papers, signed by the Governor of Texas, right? Jim, Nate, go get Thomas and Vance, and bring them here. Be careful, just in case they try to make a run for it.”

  “Right away, Cap’n,” Jim said.

  “Prentiss, just in case you’ve forgotten, there’s still four guns trained on you,” Quincy reminded the deputy. “Two here, and two from the doorway. So just stay nice and quiet until my men get back.”

  “You’re makin’ a big mistake, if you think those hombres are anythin’ but sneakin’, back-shootin’ murderers,” Hayes said.

  “Mebbe,” Quincy admitted. “But let’s just see what they have to say for themselves.”

  The deputies continued to mutter under their breaths, threatening what they would do if their quarry escaped, with curses directed at the Hennesseys and the Rangers. Jim and Nate returned with their six-guns pointed at the unarmed Thomas’s and Vance’s backs, as the men walked in front of them, hands in the air. They’d ordered the Circle Dot E hands to stay in the bunkhouse. The cowboys chafed at the order, and grumbled, but remained inside.

  “That’s them, Ranger,” Prentiss shouted. “That’s the ones who gunned down four innocent men by shootin’ ’em in the back.”

  “So, you finally caught up to us, Prentiss,” Thomas said. “We we’re hopin’ you’d quit chasin’ us, and be satisfied with keepin’ the horses you stole from us. I reckon we should’ve known better. You can’t take a chance on leavin’ us alive. And what he just told you’s a baldfaced lie, Ranger,” he said to Quincy. “We did have to shoot four men. But it was a fair fight, and all of ’em took bullets from the front, in their chests or bellies. Not one of ’em was drilled in the back.”

  “Stop tryin’ to worm your way out of this, Thomas,” Prentiss growled. “Ranger, you just heard him admit he and his pardner did those killin’s. So, why don’t you just turn ’em over to us, and we’ll be on our way.”

  “Not until we hear the rest of what they have to say,” Quincy answered. “Their version of what happened seems to be a bit different than yours. Thomas, finish your story. These men claim to be deputies from Dona Ana County. Is that right?”

  “It is,” Thomas admitted. “Although they’re no honest lawmen, despite what they might claim. Me’n Deke had been up to Santa Fe, checkin’ on some horses we heard might make good breedin’ stock. They were real fine animals, so we made a deal for some of ’em. We was drivin’ ’em back home to San Angelo. When we came through Las Cruces, Prentiss, there, tried to claim we’d stolen the horses, even though we had bills of sale for the entire bunch. He let us go, since with our papers provin’ we’d bought those horses he couldn’t make his charges stick—or so we’d thought, but it turns out he and some of his men followed us. When we bedded down for the night, him and his bunch jumped us. We managed to down four of ’em, but there were too many for us. They drove off our stock, and nearly got us, too. I’ve got the bullet slash along my ribs to prove it, if you need to see it. We got away, and figured there was no chance of ever seein’ those horses again, let alone get ’em back. Me’n Deke decided we’d better cut our losses, although losin’ those horses meant we were wiped out, and get back to Texas with our hides in one piece, at least.”

  “That’s a lie,” Prentiss shouted. “Ranger, he’s lyin’. Him and his pardner shot four men over a card game. They murdered ’em, pure and simple.”

  “That just not so, and you know it, Prentiss,” Vance said, quietly. “Ranger, I’ve still got the bill of sale for those cayuses in my saddlebags, if you’d like to see it.”

  “I believe I would,” Quincy said.

  “You’re gonna take the word of a killer and horse thief over mine, Ranger?” Prentiss objected.

  “Unless you can prove otherwise, I don’t believe these men are killers and horse thieves,” Quincy answered. “You haven’t shown me one shred of evidence against ’em. Now, since Thomas has confirmed you are deputies, I don’t need to see your badges or papers, but I sure would like to see the warrant charging these men, and the extradition papers."

  “We didn’t bring a warrant. Didn’t figu
re we’d need one,” Prentiss said. “As far as those, what’d you call ’em, extradition papers, I don’t even know what the devil those are. But these men are wanted back in New Mexico, and we figure on takin’ ’em there.”

  “No warrants, and no extradition papers.” Quincy removed his Stetson, ran a hand through his hair, then replaced the hat and rubbed his jaw. “That means you have no evidence against these men, no legal authority to arrest them, and no authority from the State of Texas orderin’ me to turn them over to you. So, I’d say you’d best leave, right now, before you get yourselves into any further trouble. There are no charges against you three in Texas, at least none that I know of, but unless you get outta here—and I mean right now—you can be dang certain I’ll come up with some. So pick up your guns, and git!”

  “You ain’t heard the last of this, Ranger,” Prentiss said, adding a curse for good measure.

  “I’d better have,” Quincy answered, waggling his gun for emphasis. “Now, get goin’.”

  Still muttering curses, the three New Mexico lawmen picked up their guns, then their horses’ reins. Once off the porch, Prentiss nodded, almost imperceptibly, to his partners. Without warning, they dove to the ground behind their horses, and began shooting.

  “Rangers, Mr. Hennessey, look out!” Thomas shouted, needlessly, for the Rangers were already in action, as were Hennessey and his son. A bullet tore the air just over Nate’s head, another plucked at Dan’s shirt, but the gun battle was over almost as quickly as it started. The deputies’ panicked horses galloped off, leaving behind their riders, who were lying in the snow, bullet riddled. The snow was tinged red, fading to rose, then pink, by their blood.

  “Everyone all right?” Quincy asked.

  “Seem to be,” Jim said.

  “Except one of those sidewinders put a hole through my favorite shirt!” Dan answered, adding a few choice curse words for emphasis.

  “Same here,” Hennessey added. “We’re fine. Brian, go tell your mother and the rest of the family no one got hurt, except for those so-called deputies.” He spat in the direction of the dead men.

  “All right, Pa.”

  “Dan, you go tell the men everythin’s under control,” Quincy ordered. “Nate, you pass the same word to the cowboys.”

  “We’re on our way,” Dan answered.

  “Ranger, me’n Curly are plumb grateful for what you just did,” Vance said to Quincy. “Those men would’ve killed us before we’d gone a mile.”

  “De nada,” Quincy answered. “I figured they were lyin’, the moment I laid eyes on ’em. Sometimes, you just know. It’s an instinct a lawman develops. Well, I reckon I’ve got to write up a report for Austin. Charlie, if you could take care of the bodies, once I check them for personal effects…”

  “Sure thing, Cap’n. There’s a spot down along the creek where the ground won’t be frozen, at least not too deep. We’ll put ’em in the shed overnight and plant ’em in the mornin’.”

  “That’ll do,” Quincy said. “Thomas, Vance,” he continued, “if I understood you correctly, losin’ those horses has pretty much wiped you out. Am I right?”

  “You are,” Thomas confirmed. “We spent almost all our savin’s on those broncs.”

  “Well, I can’t help with that, but if you’d like to consider it, I could use a couple more men,” Quincy said. “The pay ain’t much, the food’s lousy, and you’ll always be lookin’ for the hombre who’s tryin’ to put a bullet in your back, but if you think you’d like to give Rangerin’ a try, I’ll take a chance, and sign you both on.”

  “Why, thanks, Cap’n,” Thomas said. “What d’ya think, Deke?”

  “I say why not?” Vance answered. “Bein’ as we don’t have any other prospects.”

  “All right. Cap’n, it looks like you’ve just signed yourself up two new recruits,” Thomas said.

  “Good. Since you’re already settled for the night, you can move your stuff to the bunkhouse we’re usin’ come mornin’. We’ll do the paperwork and swear you in then. Now, I guess that’s enough excitement for one night. I’m ready for some shut-eye.”

  ♦●♦

  Once Nate had told the ranch hands what had happened, he headed for the stable on the run. As soon as he stepped inside, Consuela threw herself into his arms.

  “Oh, Nate, Nate,” she cried, weeping softly. “I was watching from the hayloft, and saw everything that happened. I was so frightened for you.”

  “It’s all right, Consuela,” Nate reassured her, stroking her hair. “I wasn’t hurt. No one was, except those riders.”

  “Who were they?” Consuela asked.

  “Deputies from New Mexico, lookin’ for a couple of men. Turns out, the deputies were the crooked ones, and the men they were after weren’t,” Nate answered. “I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. Right now, you’d better get back to the house, before you’re missed.”

  “The house! You’re right, Nate,” Consuela exclaimed. “Senora Louella will be looking for me. I need to return, right now.”

  “Manana, mi corazon.”

  She gave Nate a quick kiss on the cheek, then disappeared into the night.

  5

  Like practically everything about Texas, the changes in weather were often extreme, a fitting match for the vast land which was the Lone Star State. February turned into March, and memories of the blizzard and extreme cold faded as the weather grew warmer, migrating birds returned, and flowers burst into bloom. Mother Nature seemed to ignore the calendar, skipping straight from spring to summer, as she replaced snow, ice, and frigid temperatures with summer-like heat. On the Circle Dot E ranch, some of the cows had already dropped their spring calves, and most of the mares were heavy with foal. Several chuckline riding cowboys had already shown up at the ranch, looking for work.

  The Rangers knew they would have to leave the comfortable quarters they’d had for the past three months soon, since the spare bunkhouse would be needed for the hands hired for the spring and summer work. They’d kept patrolling the Big Bend area over the rest of the winter, making a few arrests, but more often than not frustrated in trying to round up the outlaws plaguing the territory. It was like hunting for gophers. You’d find one, but as soon as you caught one three more would pop up. However, their presence did seem to have some effect. Reports of robberies, cattle rustling, and horse thievery were down sharply. Captain Quincy still wasn’t certain whether that was due to the presence of the Rangers, or the bad weather. If it were the weather, then with the coming of warmer temperatures and dry, sunny days outlaws would start their depredations once again.

  This God-forsaken corner of Texas was extremely isolated, so much so that the telegraph lines had not yet reached Presidio. Two weeks previously, Captain Quincy had sent a letter to Austin, asking if his company would be reassigned to another area of the state, or would remain in the Big Bend. If it were the latter, then they would have to move soon, probably to reestablish their camp along Blue Creek. It was just a matter of waiting for the reply to come, on the once weekly stage. He had stationed Ken Demarest and Phil Knight in Presidio, to await Headquarters’ response. While they were waiting, the pair would help the Presidio town marshal to maintain order, and also patrol the surrounding area.

  Jeb’s patrol returned to the Circle Dot E late in the afternoon on a far hotter than normal day. It had been an exhausting two weeks, while they pursued a band of smugglers who were bringing opium and ’dobe dollars into Texas from Mexico. In the end, they had been unsuccessful.

  The smugglers eluded them by swimming their horses across the Rio Grande, then disappearing into the Chihuahan desert. Almost completely spent once they got back, every man in the patrol cared for their horses, ate a quick supper, then tumbled into bed.

  The next morning, when Jeb made his report to Captain Quincy and asked for his patrol’s next assignment, Quincy told him to, along with his men, just take it easy for the next few days, since he was expecting new orders from Austin anytime now. As all the
patrols returned, he was going to keep them in, until he heard from Headquarters.

  The next day was even hotter, with temperatures well into the eighties. Consuela had to work all day, so Nate decided to take a ride, then a swim. Unfortunately, when they reached the creek, it had virtually dried up. Where there should have been a swimming hole was a trickle of water, surrounded by mud. Nate muttered in disgust.

  “Looks like we just wasted our time, Red,” he said to his horse. “I guess we might as well go back to the ranch. We’ll just have to clean up as best we can there.”

  He turned Red away from the creek. When he did, what appeared to be solid ground collapsed under them, sending both sliding down an embankment, into the deep mud. Red sank nearly to his belly, whinnying in fear as he struggled to break free of the sucking goo. Nate left the saddle, and was immediately almost waist deep in mud. He was stuck as effectively as his horse.

  “Easy, Red,” he tried to sooth his frantic sorrel. “We’ll figure a way out of this. Just lemme see.”

  Nate looked at his surroundings. About fifteen feet away was a solid-looking boulder, small enough to toss his rope around.

  “I think I’ve got it, Red.” He lifted the rope from his saddle, shook out a loop, and made his throw. The loop settled around the rock. Nate tugged it until it tightened, then began to pull himself, hand over hand, out of the muck. It was a tedious process, and once he lost his grip, to fall flat on his face, coating himself even more completely with the sticky goo, but gradually, he was able to get free.

  “I’m gonna pull you outta there now, boy,” he called to Red. “Just help me out. Don’t fight me.” He removed his rope from the boulder, shook out another loop, and tossed it at Red. His first try fell short, but the next one fell gently over the sorrel’s neck. Nate tightened it, and began to pull. He managed to move Red about two feet, then the horse seemed to bog down even more.

  “Try’n help me out here, Red,” Nate pleaded. “You’ve gotta try. I can’t pull you free on my own.” He began tugging on the rope, yet again. He got Red about a foot closer to solid ground, then the horse appeared to quit struggling.