by Edson, J. T.
‘Well no, sir, but thank you right kind’ for asking, sir,’ Smith refused politely. ‘I stopped smoking, drinking and chawing tobacco when I was twelve ‘cause I found they was stunting my growth and costing me money. Only I never did grow any taller, nor managed to save a lick of the money I didn’t spend buying them. Don’t let that stop you lighting up, though.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ the rancher said, selecting a cigar and, having replaced the case, taking a box of matches from his trousers pocket. Applying the flame he created and sucking in the smoke appreciatively, he blew it out and inquired in a matter-of-fact tone, ‘You know how you come to be here?’
‘Miz Ransome told me this morning,’ the sergeant confirmed, looking at and rising to give a bow to the girl, ‘You’ve got my gratitude, ma’am, and I’d admire to thank the gent who helped you to his face now I’m well enough.’
‘You may do so as soon as he returns from the range,’ Cordoba promised. ‘And please sit down again, sir.’
‘Gracias,’ Smith drawled and lowered his rump on to the bed. ‘I reckon I will.’
‘We of Rancho Mariposa are always willing to help anybody, stranger or friend, who we find in difficulties,’ Ransome declared, meeting the sergeant’s gaze without giving any indication of the pleasure she had experienced at his words. Instead, before her father could think of a more tactful way in which to seek the same information, she went on, ‘By the way, Mr. Smith, now your memory has come back, do you remember why you were going to Flamingo?’
‘I’ve never been there, Miss Ransome,’ Smith replied and, in spite of the slight emphasis on the honorific, again showing no sign of objecting to a question bordering on what would be considered an invasion of privacy anywhere west of the Mississippi River. Exuding an air of regarding the explanation sufficient, he continued, ‘And my friends call me, “Wa—Wal” on account of they say I’ve never had any dough.’
‘Are there many places you’ve never been?’ the girl queried, hard pressed not to show her amusement at the explanation of the sobriquet.
‘A whole heap here, there and about a ways,’ the sergeant admitted. ‘But I hope to get around to them all afore I’m through. What kind of a place is Flamingo, anyways?’
‘Much like any other border town,’ Cordoba supplied, darting another glance of prohibition at his daughter and watching for any suggestion that his visitor knew more about the local situation than was suggested by the question. ‘It was once a haven for smugglers. In fact, during the War Between The States, it was the western boundary of the region through which the Ysabel Kid and his father, of whom I don’t doubt you’ve heard, used to run supplies purchased in Mexico to the Confederate authorities. xxi However, when peace came, the efforts of the U.S. Cavalry and Guardia Rurale put an end to the smuggling. Now, like everywhere else in the range country, it derives much of its present income from cattle—Or, at least, it did. These are troubled times, my young friend, troubled times.’
‘Like this morning,’ Smith hinted. ‘With that Fuentes jasper?’
‘That is more of an unexpected offshoot from the trouble,’ the rancher estimated. ‘Cattle have been disappearing all through Bonham County and anybody who happens to be with them is killed.’
‘Cow thieves aren’t known for wanting to have folks see them at their wide-looping,’ the sergeant pointed out, guessing there was something more significant behind the mention of the killing. ‘Fact being, I’ve heard tell they’ve been known to throw lead at whoever saw them.’
‘That is true,’ Cordoba confirmed. ‘But usually they are just shooting with the intention of driving off the men riding herd. Those around here do more than that. With one exception during their first raid, they’ve made certain they never left a living witness.’
‘Who was this “one exception”?’ Smith queried, satisfied he could raise the point without showing more than the interest which would be expected of anybody in his position who was merely making a casual visit to Bonham County. ‘And why didn’t they finish him off?’
‘It was Teodoro Fuentes,’ the rancher replied. His voice became tinged with bitterness and regret as he continued, ‘They killed his uncle, who owned the Rancho Miraflores and he was knocked off his horse by a bullet striking a watch in his left breast pocket. They must have thought he was dead instead of merely being knocked unconscious. In every other case, perhaps because they learned of this error, they have ensured everybody near the herd they were stealing was killed by checking the bodies and—taking the appropriate action should anybody only be wounded.’
‘Sound like real mean son-of-bi—hombres,’’ the sergeant said, making the alteration to the description as he remembered the girl was present and despite realizing the full implication of the way in which the last part of his host’s comment had been phrased.
‘They are,’ Cordoba confirmed with feeling. ‘And, as you saw earlier, there are always those who will try to take advantage of any kind of situation. Whether Javier Fuentes thought up the scheme, or was led into it by Coltrane and the others, he was using the thefts as an excuse to settle a grudge against me and mine.’
‘So there’s no trouble between the spreads?’
‘ Nothing of that kind.’
‘I’d’ve thought that, with all the cattle stealing and killing going on, feelings’d be running more than a mite high?’
‘They are. But, with the exception of the Fuentes brothers, we are all acquaintances of long standing.’
‘Muy friends, huh?’
‘I’ll admit I’ve had differences of opinion with Brad Drexell in the past,’ Cordoba replied, watching for and failing to discern any suggestion that the visitor knew and might even be going to work for the man he mentioned. ‘But they’ve always been settled amicably. And now, with everybody losing cattle and having had men shot down by the cow thieves, there isn’t any reason for one ranch to be suspect more than any other.’
The conversation was interrupted by the sound of hooves approaching!
‘It’s Halcón Gris and some of the boys,’ Ransome reported, having darted across to the open glass paneled door and looked over the balcony. Glancing pointedly at Smith, she went on, ‘Sheriff Tobin’s with them. I wonder what’s brought him out here?’
‘We could call him up and find out,’ Cordoba suggested. ‘Of course, only if our young friend here feels up to receiving another visitor?’
‘That’ll be fine with me, sir,’ Smith assented, being interested in meeting the peace officer responsible for his assignment in Bonham County. ‘Unless he’s come for something personal, that is.’
‘If he has, we can go to another room,’ the rancher declared. ‘Ask the sheriff to come up, Ransome.’
‘And Halcón Gris?’ the girl inquired.
‘Again, only with our guest’s permission,’ Cordoba replied.
Receiving a nod of concurrence from the sergeant, who remembered having heard her use the sobriquet when referring to the ranch’s segundo, Ransome stepped on to the balcony and called for the two men to come upstairs. Having done so, she returned and went to open the door. In passing, she threw a look at Smith to try to discover whether he was worried by the prospect of meeting the sheriff. She decided that, if he was, he hid it very well. He continued to lounge on the bed and did not so much as glance at his gunbelt.
Even without seeing the badge of office worn by the older of the men who came into the room, the sergeant would have known which was which. Juanita had told him enough to allow him to identify Tom ‘Halcón Gris’ Grey. Studying. Sheriff Daniel Tobin, he concluded he could be looking at himself in another twenty or so years. He also decided that he liked what he saw.
Carrying a tan colored Stetson in his right hand, tall, lanky, yet moving with a suggestion of whipcord strength, the sheriff of Bonham County had dark hair turning grey at the temples. A neatly trimmed moustache accentuated a firm mouth with grin quirks at the corners and the oak brown face had a similar hint of a dry sense of humo
r in its otherwise composed and unemotional lines. He wore clean range clothes, sufficiently inexpensive to suggest he was honest enough to be living on his salary alone, with a walnut handled Colt Artillery Model Peacemaker in the tied down holster of a gunbelt which had probably cost nearly as much as the rest of his attire put together. His grey eyes went from Smith to the gunbelt on the chest of drawers and back, but their scrutiny was redolent of wary interest rather than hostility.
‘Miss Ransome tells me’s how I owe my worthless neck to you, Halcón Gris,’ the sergeant stated, after Cordoba had carried out the introductions. ‘And I’m hoping I’ll be able to buy you a drink, or six, in town for doing it.’
‘I take that kind,’ Grey replied, but his demeanor was more neutral than friendly. Clearly, like the girl, he was reserving his judgment and awaiting developments before responding with friendship to a man who was still, he suspected from her attitude, an unknown quantity. ‘Not that I’m a drinking man, mind.’
‘None of us ever are,’ Smith drawled, admiring rather than resenting the attitude of the dark faced cowhand in showing such strong loyalty to the Cordoba family. ‘But the offer goes and I’m hoping you’ll take it up as soon’s we can get it done.’
‘Don’t think I’m not pleased to see you, Dan,’ the rancher remarked, having watched the by-play between his guest and Halcón Gris. ‘I always am, except perhaps at tax-gathering time, but has something special brought you out here today?’
‘It could be,’ the sheriff admitted. ‘Has young Javier Fuentes and some of the Rancho Miraflores hands been around here this morning?’
‘They came,’ Cordoba admitted.
‘Peaceably?’ Tobin asked.
‘They left that way,’ the rancher claimed evasively. He had no desire to have the incident become a matter for intervention by the law, or to cause Grey and his crew to go in search of revenge. Despite what had taken place, he could not forget that the Fuentes brothers were kin to an old and trusted friend. What was more, particularly in the prevailing conditions, he felt certain that Teodoro would ensure nothing else of that kind was even contemplated by Javier, much less being given the support of their hired hands. ‘Do you have any reason for thinking it would be otherwise?’
‘There was some talk around town,’ the sheriff replied. However, he had no intention of admitting he had been told by a saloon girl that the younger Fuentes brother and some of the hard-cases from their ranch had been discussing coming to Rancho Mariposa with some undisclosed mischief in mind. ‘So, seeing’s how I’ve not had my butt on a saddle for a spell, I figured I’d drop on over and see if there was anything in it. Met Halcón Gris and some of your boys on the way in and he reckoned he’d been told there was some fuss at the house ‘n’ concluded they’d best drop by to ask the why-all of it. We didn’t see Javier and his bunch on the way here, though.’
‘They’ve probably gone straight back to Rancho Miraflores,’ Cordoba guessed.
‘Could be,’ Tobin admitted, knowing such a route would have removed the need for the men to ride along the trail to Flamingo. ‘Was there any trouble?’
‘Yes,’ the rancher confirmed, even though he had no desire to have the affair taken further, but being unwilling to try to deceive a man for whom he had developed a liking and respect. ‘Asa Coltrane got arrogant and our visitor here was compelled to crease his skull with a rifle bullet.’
‘Just arrogant?’ the sheriff queried.
‘There’s some’s might even’ve called it threatening,’ Smith declared, as the peace officer darted a look in his direction.
‘Threatening?’ Tobin queried.
‘I’d even go so far’s to say it was most threatening,’ the sergeant estimated. ‘Leastways, that’s what we’d call it back to home happen a jasper started pulling a gun without a whole heap more call than he’d been given.’
‘Coltrane pulled a gun on you?’ the sheriff asked, although he was aware that the hard-case was quite capable of such behavior; particularly if believing it was safe to do so.
‘It looked to me like he was doing nothing else but,’ Smith affirmed. ‘Although I could be wrong and he was only scratching for a seam squirrel ‘n’ brought out that hid-away Colt Storekeeper by mistake. Which being, I’ll apologize most humble should our trails cross again.’
‘That could be what caused the mishap, Dan,’ Cordoba claimed, as the sheriffs gaze swung his way. ‘Anyway, in the interests of peace and quiet, I’d rather the whole thing was forgotten.’
‘How’ll Coltrane feel about it?’ Tobin challenged.
‘I’m sure Teodoro Fuentes will persuade him to see it my way,’ the rancher answered. ‘In fact, when he hears, I’m willing to bet he’ll be taking his brother and the others severely to task for coming here.’
‘Huh huh!’ the sheriff grunted, although he shared Cordoba’s unspoken suggestion that the elder of the brothers had not been aware of the younger’s intentions. ‘Happen I see him, I’ll ask how he feels on it.’
‘I’m sure he’ll be as willing as I am to say all is forgiven and forgotten,’ the rancher declared. Then, directing the words more to his Indian dark segundo than the local peace officer, he went on, ‘And I certainly don’t want it taking any further by anybody.’
‘Then I’ll see’s Teodoro and Javier know how you feel on it,’ Tobin promised and turned his attention from Cordoba in a way which showed he considered that aspect of the affair was closed. ‘I seem to mind Halcón Gris telling me on the way here’s how the banging around you got falling into that arroyo had made you forget who you was, young feller.’
‘It had,’ the sergeant admitted. ‘Only Miss Ransome got to picking out what could be my name. Well, sir, she’s cut “Hazeltine”, “Higginsbottom” and “Ramsbottom” from the herd, which last I was ‘special pleased to see gone. xxii Then, comes her getting to mentioning “Smith”, dog my cats if I didn’t remember who I was. Waldo Smith. You’ll find it in our family bible, but not in “Bible Two”.’
‘Halcón Gris allows you’re riding a big C On F Mogollon strain claybank gelding,’ the sheriff commented, showing no sign of being aware what was meant by “Bible Two”. xxiii ‘Did you buy it from Colin Farquharson his-self?’
‘No, sir,’ the sergeant lied, having decided to offer a clue which would satisfy the local peace officer; or at least suggest a means by which verification of his bona fides could be ascertained without his true identity being made public. ‘I got him from a dealer in Austin, only I lost the bill of sale. Tell you what, though. Happen you telegraph the dealer, Mr. Cyrus Holmes and ask him happen he remembers me, I seem to recollect the number on it was, “Eleven, Twenty-Three, Sixty-One”.’
‘“Eleven, Twenty-three, Sixty-One”, huh?’ Tobin repeated, giving no indication of having noticed the slight emphasis on certain words and being aware that the Cyrus Holmes of Austin who he felt sure was meant had never been a dealer in horses. He also concluded the numbers would allow him to confirm his supposition that the young man had come in response to the request, which circumstances had required was sent by a less direct route than would normally have been the case, for assistance from the Texas Rangers. I’ll do just that, Mr. Smith, happen you’re staying around here for long.’
‘It will be for a few more days at least,’ Cordoba stated, suspecting there was more to the references to the claybank than appeared on the surface and also knowing the meaning of “Bible Two”. ‘Our young friend isn’t in any shape for travelling just yet, even as far as Flamingo, and you can find him here until he is.’
Chapter Seven – You’re a Mystery, Mr. Smith
‘Howdy, ma’am,’ Sergeant Waxahachie Smith greeted, entering the stables at the rear of the Spanish colonial style house. Fully dressed, he was carrying his war bag, bed roll and Winchester Model of 1876 rifle. ‘Come to make sure I’m leaving?’
‘Yes,’ Ransome Cordoba replied, before she could stop herself and blushed as she realized the instinctive response might be con
sidered both impolite and ungrateful.
‘Serves me right for asking,’ the Texan drawled cheerfully.
‘Yes, it does,’ the girl confirmed, irked rather than relieved by the visitor appearing to be more amused than offended at her answer.
Four days had elapsed since the unpleasant visit by Javier Fuentes and the Rancho Miraflores hands. There had been no more raids by the cow thieves, but this was explained by their habit of only striking on occasions when there was sufficient rain to wash away their tracks. The weather had stayed fine. However, the time had not been entirely uneventful for the sergeant.
Smith had been grateful that Don Jose Fernando de Armijo y Cordoba had insisted he stayed at Rancho Mariposa until he was fully recovered from his ordeal at the arroyo. He was aware that, particularly after having antagonized the younger of the Fuentes brothers and Asa Coltrane, he would need to be in the best of health before arriving at Flamingo. Being allowed to remain in the room where he had regained consciousness, he had had the privacy to resume the routine he performed every day when circumstances permitted to ensure he retained his physical fitness. This included squeezing a pair of U-shaped metal springs he had had made to keep up the strength of his hands and doing some exercises he had seen as a bellhop being performed in her room at the hotel by a woman who was famed throughout the West as ‘Madam Bulldog’. xxiv In addition to practicing his draw, he had exercised by twirling and juggling the revolver. Far from being an affectation to be shown off and impress people, the latter were intended to increase his dexterity in handling the Colt Civilian Model Peacemaker. He was also allowed to shoot at targets outside the wall surrounding the house and was satisfied that he had not lost the accuracy he had acquired with the revolver and Winchester.
Although Smith had become on excellent terms with his host and learned enough to feel sure he must look elsewhere for the leader of the cow thieves, he was less well received by the majority of the people around the ranch. Still suffering from the pangs of his broken engagement, he was not so receptive to Ransome’s charms as might otherwise have been the case. Nor was he in the mood to pander to feminine whims, such as her obvious desire to learn more about him and thereby be given cause to increase her partially developed liking. To have done so, particularly if he had confided that he was a member of the Texas Rangers on official duty in Bonham County, would have improved relations between them. However, despite being satisfied her father was victim rather than instigator, he did not wish to let her have information which she might inadvertently divulge and allow the truth about him to reach the men he would be hunting.
