by Jake Logan
“And you found nothing at all up there?”
“A hollowed-out spot where gold might have been cached,” Slocum said, again taking Jesse aback with his honesty. The outlaw had expected him to lie, but Slocum saw no reason. Either Jesse let him live or there’d be one hell of a gunfight. Slocum doubted he would ride away from it, but Jesse and Dennison would be his first victims.
“That’s more than I wanted the rest of the boys to hear,” Jesse said. “But the gold’s never been here. It’s closer to Fort Union so moving it when the time comes won’t be such a chore. But I’m glad you’re here because I’m getting everyone in the gang together for a little raid.”
“You can’t trust him,” Dennison said. “We don’t need him. Let me kill him.”
“Charlie, shut up. Slocum’s a crack shot and mighty fast with that Colt of his, unless I miss my guess. You good, Slocum? Real good?”
The outlaw goaded him, but Slocum refused to give in. He smiled, pulled back his coat to expose the ebony butt of his six-shooter at his left hip, and then squared off.
“Want to find out?”
“Who you talking to, Slocum? Me or Charlie?” Jesse was amused now. Slocum doubted there would be any gun-play but didn’t relax. He watched Charlie Dennison closely for the slightest sign the owlhoot would lift his pistol. He saw how Dennison kept his thumb on the hammer, ready to draw it back and get off the first shot. A flicker of doubt clouded his eyes, and Slocum knew he had him. Before this moment, Dennison figured he could gun down his foe, but the time had passed. He doubted his ability to lift and fire before Slocum could get to his six-shooter in its cross-draw holster and send a bullet winging his way.
“Put your gun away, Charlie. And you, Slocum, mount up. We’re riding on through to the other side of the pass to a town called Encantado. What do you know about it?”
“Nothing,” Slocum admitted. He tugged at his horse’s reins so he could mount without turning his back on Dennison. Seeing such caution, Dennison slammed his six-gun back into its holster. If looks could kill, Dennison would be spitting out death like a Gatling gun.
“You still got a spare pistol, like you did when we rode with Quantrill?”
Slocum shook his head, remembering his other six-shooter had been stolen by the soldiers who had bush-whacked him.
“Charlie, give him a spare. You got plenty.”
“Jesse, I—”
“Do it.” His voice carried a steel bite to it, telling Slocum that Dennison had been kicking up a fuss and this was Jesse’s way of establishing who was in charge.
Slocum silently took the pistol Charlie passed over and tucked it into his belt. He knew then what the gang was going to do and it didn’t set well with him.
“We won’t have to do more than hurrah the place,” Jesse explained. “There might be some resistance but not much. I picked this as the place to start because it was isolated and yet on the road through the mountains. We can control the freighters as they go from Las Vegas to Taos.”
“We’ll charge ’em a tariff,” Dennison said. “This will be our country’s first source of income.”
“How do you intend to hold the town?”
“Encantado doesn’t have much of a population and no marshal to get in the way. If they have any trouble, they call on the cavalry over at Fort Union.”
Slocum began to see the way the plot was fitting together. Berglund was supposed to send only men loyal to the Knights of the Golden Circle or maybe only those who weren’t. Riding into a sleepy mountain town, expecting only a few drunk cowboys and finding the James Gang in charge would be quite a shock—and one the troops wouldn’t be ready for. He remembered that Frank had mentioned having a couple mountain howitzers.
As he rode, he studied the higher ground. A single field piece could command this pass, giving that much more authority to the claim of a new country.
“You want the cavalry sent?” Slocum asked.
“You got it all figured out,” Dennison said. “You tell us.”
Slocum explained the ways he saw it, both with troops loyal to the uprising and those unsuspecting.
“See, Charlie, Slocum’s got a head on his shoulders. We want the troops that aren’t loyal so we can get rid of them.”
“And leave those that are loyal to you back at the fort so you can seize it from within.”
“I ought to have you doing my planning,” Jesse said, laughing. “This is going to be great fun. By the end of the year, we’ll all be governing our own separate states and the Golden Circle will be forged. There’re uprisings in Mexico and Central America planned. From this we can sail on over to the Caribbean and take those islands, completing the circle. You ever been on a sailing ship, Slocum?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Me neither. Might be fun to lead a marine invasion of Cuba or one of them other islands. I hear tell them local folks are swimming in rum and smoking the best damned cigars anywhere. The señoritas roll the best cigars against their naked thighs. A sight to behold. Or so I’m told.”
“If I can’t ride there, I don’t want to go,” Slocum said. He saw several riders approaching from the north, just as they started down the slope on the far side of the pass. Ahead he saw a small town of a few dozen adobe buildings. Hornos were filled with baking bread and the people went about their lives, unaware of the tide about to wash over them.
“Reinforcements,” Jesse said when Slocum spotted the riders. “We got damned near fifty men in our little army, and when the gold is swapped, we’ll quadruple that, with more ’n a hundred all trained soldiers.”
“Don’t trust Berglund,” Slocum warned. He wanted to sow the seeds of discord, but he shouldn’t have said a word to the outlaw leader. Let him find that Berglund was a sidewinder about ready to strike. The more confusion in the outlaw ranks, the better it was.
And the better chance Slocum had of finding the gold and making off with at least some of it in the confusion.
“Don’t go givin’ Jesse advice. He’s got everything planned out all good and proper.” Dennison grated his teeth together as he spoke. His festering anger was barely held in check. Slocum considered pushing him over the edge but Jesse interrupted.
“I do not, indeed, need any advice at this moment,” Jesse James said. He drew his pistol and fired it once into the air. The newcomers rode to his signal and the small army massed a mile from Encantado.
Slocum let his horse sidestep away and go to the edge of the gathered army. He didn’t want to ride into this town, shooting innocent men and women the way he had during the war, but if he didn’t, Charlie Dennison would be on him in an instant. As Jesse began addressing the men, whipping them into a killing frenzy, Slocum wondered if Audrey had gotten back to Las Vegas yet. If she contacted Sheriff Narvaiz, that might derail Jesse’s battle plan. The sheriff was likely to bring along a posse. With the resistance to be expected from the men in Encantado, the outlaws would find themselves caught between the law and the citizens.
It wouldn’t be the first time for Jesse and the others to be in such a situation. They’d probably escape, but the wild-ass scheme to forge a new country out of New Mexico Territory would be ended. That might be worth the deaths of a few of the townspeople because it would prevent even worse killings in the future.
“Any chance we’ll be facing any of the cavalry?” Slocum asked.
“You hush up, Slocum. This is going according to my plan. There won’t be any bluecoats down there. Not a one. Everybody! Guns ready?”
A cheer went up. Slocum drew the spare six-shooter he had been given, cocked it, and considered how hard it would be to accidentally—on purpose—cut down Charlie Dennison during the fight.
Before he had a chance to position himself so he could ride near Jesse’s henchman, a shot rang out and the entire gang moved as one, save for Slocum. His horse reared before joining the throng rushing downward toward Encantado.
The people in the town must have had some small hint that
a whole lot of hurt was washing down over them. Slocum saw several men duck indoors and come out with rifles. They started shooting before any of Jesse’s gang was in range. The men wasted their shots—and then their lives were wasted. The front of the onslaught hit the main street with the force of a hundred pounds of dynamite exploding. Jesse and Charlie rode side by side, Jesse shooting at everyone on his left side and Dennison on his right. Slocum saw no fewer than six men sag under the leaden onslaught.
Jesse James had practiced this maneuver more times than Slocum wanted to think. He put his heels to his horse and shot forward, but he held back shooting. He rode hard and drew closer to Charlie Dennison. If anyone in this town died, it ought to be him. Slocum leveled the pistol the outlaw had given him and judged the motion of his own galloping horse and that which Dennison rode the best he could. He got the man’s broad back in his sights and fired.
Slocum let out a screech as the six-gun misfired in his grip. Pieces of hot metal flew in all directions. One piece of shrapnel cut Slocum’s cheek like a hot knife. Another burned a hole through the brim of his hat. Other than this, his face was untouched. He had seen guns blow up and blind the marksman—or worse. Hands could be blown off or lives lost.
He kept riding, clutching the useless gun in his hand. Blood oozed out from around charred skin where pieces of the barrel had blown straight back and burned him.
Slocum was aware of the resistance fading throughout Encantado. The men threw down their rifles and held their hands high over their heads. A few of them died as Jesse’s excited gang couldn’t find a way to lasso in their bloodlust. A second pass through the town, then a street-by-street hunt quickly brought everyone outdoors and into the plaza.
Jesse rode his horse into the gazebo and turned it slowly, horseshoes clomping drum-loud on the wood floor. He grinned ear to ear at the quick conquest of the sleepy town.
“What happened to you, Slocum?” Jesse James called.
“The damned gun Dennison gave me blew up in my hand.”
“You better get that tended to. It looks mighty bad.”
“Feels worse,” Slocum said. He plucked a few metal splinters from his forearm and the fleshy part of his thumb. Letting it bleed to clean out any infection produced what appeared to be a bloody stump at the end of his right arm.
“You lose something, Slocum?” Charlie Dennison rode over and sneered at him. “Might be you won’t have to kill anybody again. That’d suit a coward like you, wouldn’t it?”
“Next time, I won’t use your gun,” Slocum said.
Before Dennison could snap back, Jesse fired three quick shots through the roof of the gazebo.
“Reckon you folks will have to repair those holes before it rains again. But then you’re alive and able to repair your homes and your lives, thanks to me. I’m Jesse James and I just liberated you from the U.S. government.”
His men cheered. The townspeople remained silent. If anything they huddled together more, seeking reassurance from their family and neighbors that they would not suffer the fate a dozen or more in Encantado already had.
“First off, you don’t bury none of the bodies. You let them get real ripe in the hot sunlight to remind you of what you’re leaving behind. As soon as I can, I’ll bring in supplies for a big feast to celebrate the opening shots of a rebellion that’ll bring about the Kingdom of the Golden Circle.”
“Cheer, damn you!” shouted Dennison. When only a few men did so, Dennison shot two men glowering at him. “Cheer your conqueror. Cheer for your new freedom from them damned Yankees!”
This produced more of a response. Slocum guessed not everyone in Encantado was pleased with paying taxes to a distant government. They had seen how brutal the new regime might be, but it was close at hand, not two thousand miles away in a place they had never seen.
“We’re gonna set up a ruling council. At the head of the new council will be this man, Charlie Dennison. He’ll appoint members to the council from your rank. Y’all will rule yourselves from now on.”
Slocum held his breath. The people of Encantado would rule themselves as long as Charlie Dennison and ultimately Jesse James allowed them to do so. The ones most vocal about supporting their new rulers would move up fast and find themselves in positions of power. Those that opposed Jesse would join the dozen already killed.
“Right now, get on back to work. You’ll be told when the council meeting will be held.” Jesse fired his pistol again until it came up empty. Then he rode out of the gazebo and stopped beside Dennison and Slocum.
“Charlie, you know what’s got to be done. We have to be certain the cavalry sent out here’s who we think. Then you can set about finding the men who’ll support us on the ruling council.” Jesse took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and tipped his head back to bask in the sun like a lizard. “Yes, sir, this is the first baby step toward taking over the whole damn territory.”
Slocum pressed his bandanna into his wounds but never took his eyes off Jesse. If the pistol hadn’t blown up in his hand, he would have been smart to take out not only Dennison but the outlaw leader, too.
Jesse opened his eyes and stared hard at Slocum.
“This is the first town. But there’ll be more in a hurry. We got to move fast so we can consolidate our power. What town would you like, Slocum?” Before he got an answer, Jesse went on. “Santa Fe. You can rule over Santa Fe. We’ll need somebody with a strong hand to control there since there’s a train depot in Lamy. We wouldn’t want the bluecoats to bring in reinforcements and outflank us before we got control of Fort Union. Yes, we need a strong hand there.” He stared at Slocum’s injured hand and laughed.
If Slocum could have held his Colt, Jesse James would have been a dead man.
11
“This is the life,” Zeke said, boots hiked up to the table top and a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He took another long pull on it and offered it to Slocum.
The whiskey was bitter and left an aftertaste in Slocum’s mouth. Or maybe it was the way Jesse James had taken over Encantado that caused the bad taste. He had seen this kind of invasion happen too many times while riding with guerrilla bands. They cowed the citizens of a town, then took whatever they wanted. It wasn’t any different from being a train robber, but Slocum felt it was dirtier somehow. It certainly left him feeling like he needed a bath—and he knew no amount of scrubbing could ever wipe away what he felt.
“Dennison seems like he’s been ready to be mayor of a town for all his life,” Slocum said.
“I’m gettin’ me one, too. Jesse promised. Not right away, but soon.”
“Where’s he going next?”
“Someplace bigger’s my guess. He didn’t tell me. He plays those cards real close to his vest.” Zeke took another drink and balanced the bottle on the edge of the table, where it teetered and then fell. He paid no attention to it but yelled, “Bartender! Bring us another bottle. This one’s empty.”
Slocum saw the suppressed fury on the barkeep’s face, but the man brought a new bottle and put it on the table, just an inch beyond Zeke’s reach.
“You and Dennison getting to be partners?” Slocum asked. “Seems like you’re admiring what he does more and more.”
“He knows what he’s doing. Him and Jesse are tight. You could do worse than to be like Charlie, too. But then you know Jesse and he’s promised you the chance to be governor of an entire state.” Zeke heaved a sigh, strained, and got the bottle into his grip. “Governor. That’s what I want to be.”
“Not president?”
“Jesse’s claimed that for himself.”
“When a country’s formed like this, a coup isn’t that unusual,” Slocum said.
“You thinkin’ on overthrowing Jesse? That’s mighty bold, Slocum.”
“Just pointing out that hitching your wagon to the wrong star might bring you crashing down to earth.”
Zeke laughed, drank a little more, and then dropped his feet to the floor with a thud. He leaned forward and tried to keep
his voice down to a whisper. He didn’t succeed.
“Jesse’s the right star, and I know how to drive wagons and throw a diamond hitch on a pack mule. I never amounted to much and my pa always beat me and said I’d never amount to a hill of beans. This’ll show ’em. Why, I might end up as mayor of Taos.”
“Taos?”
“Yeah, sure, why not? I heard Jesse say he’d start you out in Santa Fe ’fore letting you work up to governor. Don’t know how he’s gonna cut out the state but maybe me and you, we can be governors of adjoining states.”
“Might happen,” Slocum said. He knew Jesse was promising all his gang positions of power and hinting that along with such titles would come the spoils. There wasn’t a one of them who knew the first thing about running a town, much less an entire state or a country. The lure of being able to steal legally was more than any of the outlaws could resist.
“Damned right. It will happen,” Zeke said.
“Hey, Slocum, stop getting drunk and come with me.”
Slocum looked up. Jesse James stood in the doorway, the bright sunlight silhouetting him. The urge to draw and fire at such an easy target faded fast when Slocum saw Charlie Dennison and Frank James behind Jesse.
“El presidente wants you,” Zeke said, a hint of envy in his voice. “Better not keep him waiting.”
“Wouldn’t want to do that,” Slocum said, heaving to his feet. He spat in the direction of the cuspidor on his way out. The taste in his mouth refused to go away. The bright sun as he stepped into the dusty main street made him squint. He was glad he had resisted cutting Jesse down when he had such an easy target. A half-dozen others from the gang were tightly bunched outside and would have blown him to bloody ribbons if he had killed their leader.
“I need you along to do a little negotiating down south.”
“Santa Fe?”
“You’ll find out. Get into the saddle.”
Dennison glowered at him and Frank tried to ignore him. The others took scant notice as he mounted and walked to a spot a few yards from where Jesse was ready to ride.
