by Jake Logan
“Hush!” Slocum snarled, and Teddy, taken aback, immediately shut his mouth. But what was going on? He hadn’t spotted any change in the trail. He hadn’t seen anything! In fact, he didn’t know how anybody could. The weeds were so high that they grew higher than his head on horseback, for crying out loud.
But he sat there silently and waited.
He could barely make out Slocum’s mounted figure through the ten thin feet of stems between them, until Slocum moved his horse over near him.
“What is it?” Teddy whispered.
“Listen.”
“I been listenin’ and I ain’t heard diddly—”
“Hush!” Slocum pointed ahead.
Teddy listened. Nothing. He really concentrated, closing his eyes and straining to hear.
And there it was: Somebody, somewhere up ahead, was hammering something into the ground. He turned toward Slocum. “Tie-out stake?”
Slocum gave him a quick nod. “Probably.”
Teddy kept his voice low, like Slocum. “How the hell’d you hear that while we was movin’?”
“Didn’t,” the big man replied. “Heard him talkin’ to his horse.”
When Teddy tilted his head quizzically, Slocum added, “He were’t keepin’ his voice down, or anythin’. Didn’t know we was here. And still don’t, if you hold your voice down to a roar.”
Teddy couldn’t see himself, but felt color rising up his neck and into his cheeks. He felt the way he had when his pa scolded him for doing something wrong, back when he was a little kid. He half expected a hand swat.
But it didn’t come. Slocum signaled to him to follow, and began to slowly move forward, right over the top of Jonas’s trail. The weeds were already beaten down from his prior passage.
Teddy was now behind, but at least he could see Slocum clearly. And the horses sure made less clatter and commotion than they had while they were beating down the weeds.
Slocum twisted round in his saddle. “Follow my lead,” he hissed, then turned forward again. It took Teddy a couple seconds to figure out what he meant, but now he knew—Slocum, before him, was riding out into the clear, and immediately Teddy was, too. The weeds had stopped, just like that.
He looked down, and saw that the earth under his horse’s hooves was gone, too, changed abruptly to a shelf of yellow limestone, and that he heard the rush of water nearby. Slocum had moved along ahead of him when he saw Slocum lift an arm, wave, and shout, “Hello the camp!”
They were to go in as friends, then. It was a good idea. If Jonas had heard them talking before, he’d be a lot less likely to shoot first and ask questions later if they just rode into his camp, all friendly-like.
So, fine. Teddy put on his smiling face.
Just in time, too. Following Slocum, he rode out into a small clearing, bordered on one side by the tall grasses behind him, and bordered on the other by, first, a creek, and then, an abrupt rise.
In the center of the clearing, building himself a fire on the stone floor, sat Jonas Hendricks. His horse was off to the left, Teddy noted, staked out at the edge of the tall grass, which he was busily eating.
Slocum asked, “Mind if we climb down? It’s been a long day!”
And Jonas answered, “Be obliged if you was to pull up some ground, fellers. Could use some company myself.”
“We got vittles to share, if you’re of a mind,” Slocum said, “and Teddy, here? He makes the best coffee west of the Mississippi!”
Jonas finished building the fire, and while Teddy set the coffee to brew, Jonas asked Slocum, “What brings you fellers out here anyhow?”
Without a pause, Slocum replied, “You know Ol’ Zeb Creed, don’t you?”
Jonas shook his head. “Don’t recall the name.”
“Well, ain’t surprised, I guess,” Slocum said, nodding. “He ain’t been out here for but three, mayhap four years. He owns the Circle Z. We’re out looking for strays. Anyhow, I’m hopin’ it’s strays and not some low-life cattle rustler.”
Slocum finished, and paused to take a long spit over toward the weeds. He slapped at his pockets before producing half a pack of ready-mades, which he held toward Jonas. “Care for a smoke?”
“No thanks,” Jonas said. “Got my own. Tried those ready-mades, but I’d ruther have a hand-rolled anytime. No offense meant.”
“None taken,” Slocum said with a laugh. “Just means more for me.” He pulled one out and lit it before he held the pack toward Teddy, who shook his head and mumbled, “No thanks.” He wished Slocum’d do something, damn it! Was he gonna just sit and chat with this Jonas person until after dark?
14
Dinner had been cooked and eaten when Slocum brought out his ready-mades again. Lighting one, then shaking out the match, he accepted a fresh cup of coffee from Teddy (who looked increasingly nervous). He leaned forward, toward Jonas, who was seated across the fire from him.
Now, they had exchanged names earlier—Teddy and Jonas and John—but Slocum had given only his first name, since John could be John anyone, but “Slocum” was a name recognized by anybody with a price on his head, and quite a few others.
And Slocum said, “Jonas? Want to talk to you about somethin’.”
“Sure.”
“Now, about this rustlin’ business, I—”
In a flash, Jonas was on his feet and drew his gun, but not as fast as Slocum. He’d snuck a Colt out about half an hour past, and he was ready.
“Just calm down, Jonas,” Slocum soothed. “I know the Territory’s got paper out on you, but I’m thinkin’ you didn’t do it. Calm yourself and pull up some limestone, and let’s talk ’t over.”
Warily, Jonas said, “I’ll holster mine if you’ll do the same.”
“Done,” said Slocum, and slid the Colt back into its holster.
Slowly, Jonas did the same and sat back down. He sat there in silence for a moment—while Slocum slid a glance over to make sure Teddy hadn’t drawn—and then he said, “I didn’t do it. It’s that damn McAlister! He caught me while I was ridin’ across his ranch, accused me of stealin’. I never stole a goddamn thing in my whole life, pinky swear! And if I was gonna steal somethin’, it wouldn’t have been anythin’ of his. He hated me from the first time he set an eye on me. Hated my daddy, too, God rest his soul. That was all over water, least that’s what started it. He finally run us outta business, but he held a grudge. Been more’n fifteen years, and I swear, that grudge’a his only got bigger.”
Jonas paused to take a long drink of coffee. While he was at it, Teddy signaled something to Slocum, but Slocum waved him off. He wanted to hear the rest of Jonas’s side.
“Anyhow, he must’a had a bug up his butt that day, because not five minutes later, the old bastard drew on me! Right on the middle of a cow pasture, sitting big as life on that pinto horse’a his, he drew on me!” Jonas shook his head wearily and sighed.
“How’d you come to kill him, then? I mean, if he had the drop on you?”
Jonas’s forehead wrinkled right up. “Kill him? I sure didn’t kill him. Might’a knocked him off that old pinto, but I didn’t kill him. See, his foreman come over the crest of the hill about then, and while his head was turned, I freed up my leg from the stirrup and gave him a kick. He went down off that horse like a beaver off a log, and I set my spurs to my horse. And that was it.”
Slocum rolled this over in his head before he asked, “You didn’t hear any shots while you were high-tailin’ it?”
“Not till I got myself pretty far away. At least over the crest of the next hill. There was two shots, so I figured they was both chasin’ me. So I kicked ol’ Sunny and let him go. Never left a place so fast in all my borned days! Got myself clear up, almost into the Bradshaws, when I seen that it wasn’t just ol’ McAlister and his foreman. They’d put a whole damn posse together and was headed for me, goin’ full tilt and shootin’ to beat the band.”
Teddy, who had been silent up to this point, asked, “You shoot at ’em then?”
J
onas said, “Well, it didn’t look like they was gonna give me even a part of a chance, so once me and Sunny—that’s my horse—got goin’ again, I started shootin’ back. Emptied my damn gun. But they just kept comin’. We clumb and we clumb, and then I had to get off and lead him, and then—finally—we got to a place where the trail, such as it was, dead-ended in a drop-off cliff, down to the river. I didn’t have no choice, and ol’ Sunny seemed to know that. ’Cause when I whacked him across the butt, he jumped down into that river, and I went in next.”
Slocum was pretty damn impressed, and nodded his head in appreciation. “Helluva story, Jonas. One helluva tale.”
“And then what happened?” Teddy broke in eagerly. “I mean, you and your horse, you made it out. But what then? Did the posse jus’ give up? Why’d you decide to ride down outta the Bradshaws? Did the—?”
Slocum lifted his hand, silencing the boy. He was going to have to learn some self-control sooner or later, and Slocum hoped it’d be sooner.
“I figger Jonas has about worn himself out with the tellin’ of it,” he said. “If there’s more, he can tell you tomorrow, okay?”
Jonas sent Slocum a grateful nod.
But Slocum himself didn’t stop. He said, “Just one more thing, Jonas.”
“Reckon I can handle it.”
“Who’s the heir to everythin’? I mean, who gets McAlister’s cows and land and stuff?”
Jonas shrugged. “His daughter and son-in-law, I reckon. Who killed him?”
“They live around here? I mean, in the Territory?” Slocum asked, ignoring the question about McAlister’s fate.
“Well, sure they do,” Jonas replied as if Slocum was an idiot. “Be awful hard to ramrod a ranch from a whole different Territory!”
Slocum was beginning to see the light. “So his son-in-law was his foreman?”
“Well, sure,” Jonas said. Then, “Sorry. I leave that part out?”
“Yup,” said Slocum while he dug out another ready-made.
“It makes a difference, y’know.”
Even Teddy was beginning to get it now. He shoved back his hat and took a scratch at his forehead, saying, “I’ll be diddly-damned.”
“Why don’t we all get some rest?” said Slocum. He lit his ready-made and shook out the match. “I’ll take first watch.”
Teddy looked like he was halfway asleep already, but he started to argue.
“Teddy, just go the hell to sleep, okay? I’ll wake you when it’s your turn.”
“Yessir,” the kid muttered, and lay right down, pulling his thin blanket over himself.
“How ’bout me?” asked Jonas, who apparently didn’t realize he was under arrest. Slocum decided to wait till the morning to tell him. Let him have a peaceful night’s sleep.
“You’re too tuckered out to still be talkin’,” Slocum said, and took a drag off his ready-made. “You get yourself some shut-eye, too.”
“Well, you wake me when you want relief,” Jonas said. “I don’t mind tellin’ you that I ain’t had a good restful night’s sleep since this crap happened to me.”
Slocum nodded. Teddy was already snoring softly. Slocum said, “Don’t blame you one bit. Go on, get yourself some shut-eye, Jonas.”
Slocum waved him down, and that was that. He sat guard himself, occasionally dozing, the whole night through.
It was morning, and the sun was bright. They’d already had breakfast, put out the fire, and seen to the horses. And Slocum still hadn’t told Jonas that he was under arrest. Truth be told, he liked the fellow as well as believed his story. He was hoping that Pete, back in Phoenix, would see it the same way. But first, he had to tell Jonas, who, at present, was snugging up the girth on his horse.
“Jonas?” said Slocum. “Like to talk to you for a second.”
Jonas finished off the girth and turned around. “Sure,” he said, smiling. “What’s on your mind, John?”
Oops. Slocum figured he’d best tell him his name while he was at it.
He said, “Sit down, Jonas,” as he perched himself on a rock. “I’ve got some hard news for you.”
Jonas, his brow working, sat on a boulder opposite Slocum’s. “What is it? We been surrounded durin’ the night?” He shot a glance left, then right.
Slocum shook his head. “No, Jonas. Ain’t nobody out there. They’re in here.”
Jonas’s brows knotted. “Huh?”
“Jonas, I believe you, I truly do. But when a man has a price on his head, it’s my job to bring him in. You know, get things sorted out proper.”
“I thought you worked for ol’ man Creed.”
“Sorry I had to go and fib a little. Ain’t no Zeb Creed. Made him up. And I also didn’t tell you my whole name. It’s Slocum. John Slocum.”
Jonas’s eyes grew so large Slocum thought they’d pop from his head. “S-S-Slocum?” he stuttered. “The Slocum? The bounty hunter?” Suddenly he looked terrified.
Slocum thumped Jonas’s leg with the outside of a fist. “Don’t take it so hard, Jonas. Between the two of us, I’m thinkin’ that marshal down to Phoenix is gonna believe your story, too. Pete’s a fair man. Sounds to me like the old man’s son-in-law was in a mite too much hurry to inherit.”
Jonas looked shocked, but no words came out. Then he sputtered, “You gotta take me in? To Phoenix?”
“It’s better than lettin’ you go. Territory’s got a poster out on you for murder and theft, and it’s posted for dead or alive. You think you’d have a chance out there on your own?” Slocum paused, then added, “Best thing to do is to clear your name. Makes things a whole lot easier in the long run.”
Slowly, Jonas nodded. “In the short run, too, I reckon. All right,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll go in with you. Best to get this thing cleared up. I reckon what you’re sayin’ is right on the money.”
Slocum stood up. “Good man, Jonas.”
Jonas stood up, too. “I hope so, Slocum. And I hope to hell you’re right.”
Me, too, Slocum thought. Me, too.
The three men found their way out of the tall grasses and back through the foothills, and soon were on their way down to Phoenix. Jonas wore no chains or ropes, he just rode along, keeping pace, from time to time shaking his head and muttering. Just what he was muttering, Slocum didn’t understand, but it sounded woeful.
“Dasn’t you think we should tie him up or somethin’?” Teddy asked one night when they camped. His eyes had been trained on Jonas’s hands right through the day’s ride, and the day before, and the day before.
It wasn’t that Teddy didn’t trust Jonas, Slocum thought. Well, all right, Teddy just plain didn’t trust much of anybody.
“Nope,” said Slocum. “He’s fine as is.” Jonas was off collecting fuel for the fire, which wasn’t an easy task when you were most of the way down on the flat, which they were.
“You doin’ any more’a that rememberin’?” Slocum asked.
Teddy twisted his head. “No. Why?”
“Just wonderin’,” Slocum replied with a shrug. “That’s all.”
“Hello the camp!” Jonas’s voice rang out. He was coming in with a load of combustibles for the fire.
Slocum waved. He called out, “Aha! Hello the bringer of fire!” and laughed.
Jonas looked a sight, all right. He had picked up every conceivable thing that would burn and strapped it all to his back, so that he looked like a medieval peasant.
When Teddy said, “I don’t get it,” Slocum laughed all the harder.
15
The next afternoon, Slocum, Teddy, and a dejected Jonas rode into Phoenix and went straight to the marshal’s office. When Slocum led them into Pete’s office, Pete looked up and said, “This feller don’t look Mexican to me. Thought you were goin’ after Jorge.”
Slocum pulled out a chair and motioned the other men down, while saying, “That didn’t work out so well. He’s gone down into Mexico, sure as shootin’. Anyways, I would if I was him.”
Pete nodded sagely. “
Who’s this?” He pointed at Jonas.
“Jonas Hendricks,” Slocum replied, “though I wanna have a talk about him. Me and Teddy, we decided he’s been framed.”
Pete riffled through some papers on his desk. “Hm. Seems now you’re wanted for two murders, Jonas. McAlister died of his wounds a few days back.” He sighed, stood, and pulled out his keys. “Best you come along with me.”
Teddy jerked to his feet, shouting, “No!”
But Slocum got him sat back down. “Things gotta go through channels, kid,” he said. “Don’t you worry.” He looked over at Jonas, who was halfway out the door with Pete at his back. “You neither, Jonas.”
Jonas nodded glumly and went on his way.
“But Jonas knows the story best!” Teddy complained. “He can tell it better’n us!”
“That he can, but they still gotta go through the formalities. And dollars to doughnuts, Pete’ll send us back up to do some snoopin’ for him.”
Teddy cocked a brow. “He will?”
Slocum nodded. “Wait and see.”
They spent the night at Katie’s, and she was past thrilled to see Slocum again so soon.
“Word’s got around that I’m sleepin’ with a customer,” she said late that night after Slocum’d had her twice and was sitting by the window, smoking a ready-made. “I keep sayin’ that you’re not no customer, that you’re special, but I guess folks figure that if I’m sleepin’ with anybody, that means I’m open for business.”
Slocum nearly dropped an ash on his bare leg. “Anybody in particular givin’ you a hard time?”
She smiled. “Other than you, you mean?”
“Now, Katie . . .”
“Sorry, couldn’t help myself,” she said. “But yes. Bert Gimble—he owns the bank—he’s been sniffin’ around somethin’ fierce. And Lance Breakenridge practically raped me when I was walking home from the market on Tuesday. Said he’d heard I was givin’ it up to somebody, and wasn’t he just as good? And I said to take his business someplace else, ’cause I wouldn’t ever sleep with the likes of him, all stinkin’ of cattle.”
