The Gunfighter

by Robert J Conley

  “We don’t need to ride north up to the county seat,” I told him as we rid along kinda easy-like. Me and Sly was riding side by side, and I was a-leading the pack-horse. “Ole Happy went over there and done some checking for us. Them Jaspers rid outa there a-headed southwest, and they went through Loganville still a-headed that same direction.”

  “Well,” Sly said, “in that case, we can ride straight down to Loganville and start our own tracking from there.”

  “That’s what I figgered,” I said.

  “Your deputy saved us considerable time,” he said. “I hope you thanked him properly for both of us.”

  “I done that all right,” I said. ‘Course, I knowed that what my kinda proper thanks and what Sly’s kind was was two different things, but I never brung that up. “I thanked him real good and proper.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Me and Sly stopped somewhere around noon to rest up and fix us some vittles, and I weren’t about to admit it out loud to him, but goddamn I was tired. I was damn near wore out from just that half a day’s riding. I knowed it was on account of all them bullet holes I had just got over, or maybe I had ought to say, damn near got over. I remember wondering if he was a-feeling any the same way, but I figgered I’d never know, ‘cause he was prob’ly like me. If he was a-tiring out sooner than what he used to, he wouldn’t be saying nothing about it to me. That’s for sure. Anyhow, we et us some beans and some jerky and hardtack, and we fixed us some coffee and drunk a few cups of that. Then we cleaned up our mess, and ole Sly says, “Are you about ready to ride, Baijack?”

  “Sure,” I said, really thinking that I’d just like to lay still and rest up some more. But I never said nothing about that, of course, and so we packed up and mounted up and rid on out of there. I figgered we’d have us about a two-day ride on over to Loganville. Just mainly to make talk, I said, “Sly, when we catch up with them bastards, you got any kinda plan how we’re going to go after them?”

  “I haven’t given it much thought,” he said. “It will all depend on just where we find them. If they’re in some town, it will have to be handled one way. If they’re out on the trail, it will be a completely different situation. We’ll just have to wait and see where we find them and take it from there.”

  Well, I figgered he was right about that, and I was sure a-hoping that we come across them out on the trail somewheres, ‘cause thataway I could hunker down behind a big rock or something and blast away at them with my Winchester. I didn’t know if ole Sly was aiming to face them fair and square or not, but I sure didn’t have no intentions of doing nothing so damn foolish as that myself. Hell, if I was lucky enough to come up behind them, why, I figgered I’d just start in a-shooting the bastards in the back. After I had done shot the first one, or maybe two, well, likely the other’ns would get turned around and try to shoot back, but I figgered I’d sure as hell start out thataway, backshooting the sons of bitches.

  We was maybe halfway into the afternoon when we run into our first trouble. We was riding along the trail there a-minding our own business when a goddamned rattler spooked our horses. Mine rared on up real quicklike and surprising. I weren’t expecting it, and he spilled

  me off his back end. Goddamn, that landing hurt. Sly’s mount started in to skittering, which caused him to be some slow on the draw, but the worst of it was that our packhorse fell over and broke his damn leg.

  Soon as Sly got control of his horse, he whipped that Colt out like lightning and shot the head right offa that snake. I never seen nothing like it. Fast and accurate. Both. Then he turned right to me and said, “Are you all right, Baijack?”

  I pulled my ass up offa the ground real slow and easy and straightened myself up, groaning the whole time — and for good reason, too. “Yeah,” I said. “I think so. But that damn packhorse don’t look so good.” Sly put the poor son of a bitch outa his misery, and we went to unpacking ever’thing and repacking it onto the back ends of our two saddle horses. It was all we could do. Then we went to riding again.

  We didn’t talk too much. I reckon we both knowed what it was we was up to, and there weren’t no reason to be a-talking about it, and that was about the only thing on our minds, so we just rid along side by side and quietlike. We rid the day away like that, and then we made us a camp for the night. We et, and I hauled out one of my whiskey bottles. I took me a nice long drink, and I offered one to Sly, but he turned it down.

  Well, he was asleep before me, so I just kept on a-drinking, and I got to wondering what the hell was going on back in ole Asininity. I wondered if ole Bonnie was taking any cowhands up to her room while I was outa town. I didn’t like to think that while I was a-sleeping on the ground in the cold, she might be back there a-bouncing someone in her bed. I wondered if Happy was holding things together, too. Fin’ly I drunk me enough whiskey that I put all them kinda thoughts outa my head and went on to sleep.

  Whenever I woke up in the morning, ole Sly done had the coffee made. I fixed us up some breakfast, and we et. Then we cleaned up our campsite, packed and saddled our horses, and lit out again. I figgered we’d make Loganville by that night — if we was to ride long enough. If it was to get dark on us before we made it, we’d likely have to spend one more night on the trail and then get into the place early the next day.

  Well, nothing much happened that day, nothing to talk about anyhow, and I was right about our timing. The sun was a-getting low in the sky, and there still weren’t no sign of life up ahead of us, so we camped out again. We et us another supper on the trail and slept another night on the ground by a campfire. I drunk some more whiskey that night and slept the rest of the night good and hard. The next morning, we had us a trail breakfast, cleaned up, packed and saddled up, and headed on. We come to Loganville about midmoming.

  It weren’t much of a town. Hell, it weren’t even as big as Asininity. It didn’t have no hotel, just a small what you might call rooming house. There was a place where you could buy a meal or a drink, and there was a general store, then a few scattered houses. They did have a sheriff’s office with just only one jail cell, and they had a telegraph. That was just about it. Me and Sly went straight to the sheriff’s office, hitched our mounts, and went inside. The sheriff we found in there was paunchier than me, and I think he was older, too. When we walked in, he looked up from behind his desk and said, “Howdy, strangers. What can I do for you?”

  I jumped in right quick, on accounta I weren’t at all sure what ole Sly would say if I didn’t. It didn’t seem like the smartest thing in the world to go into a new town and announce first thing that he was the famous and infamous Widdermaker. “I’m Baijack,” I said, “town marshal over to Asininity.”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said, “I’ve heard of you. I’m Sheriff Johnny Hoig. What brings you to Loganville?”

  We shuck hands, and then Hoig reached out to shake hands with Sly, and I jumped in again. I didn’t want ole Sly to even mention his name. “Me and my partner here,” I said, “we’re tracking four hardcase outlaws name of Jasper.”

  “You’re kind of out of your jurisdiction, ain’t you?” Hoig said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “That’s right, and I know it, but them Jaspers shot the two of us up pretty bad a while back, and we aim to get the bastards. I ain’t acting in my official capacity. You might say me and my partner here is acting like bounty hunters, or maybe just private citizens out to settle a grudge. The main thing is we’re after them, and we mean to get them. I heard they come through here.”

  “They did that, all right,” said Hoig. “It’s been a while back now. I’m pleased to say they didn’t cause no real trouble while they was here, but they was acting kind of rowdy, and I was sure relieved when they finally left.”

  “Do you know which way they were going when they left town?” Sly asked.

  “I know more than that,” Hoig said. “I heard them say they were headed for New Mexico.”

  Well, we went on over to the one place in town where you could buy a meal,
and we got us a steak and taters what someone else cooked. It weren’t the best I ever had, but it was better than what we’d been eating on the trail. I was thinking about New Mexico. I sure hoped we wouldn’t have to chase them that damn far, but at least we knowed their general direction of travel. The other thing was that if they was headed south and southwest like that, at least it would be a-getting warmer all along the way. We was about halfway through our meal whenever ole Sly spoke up.

  “You avoided mentioning my name to that sheriff very cleverly,” he said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Well, I weren’t at all sure that it would be the best thing for him to know just who the hell you are.”

  “I suspect you’re right about that,” he said.

  We finished up our food and ordered up another refill on our coffee, and then I said to Sly, “What do you think? We got us a half a day left. Do we ride it on out or stop here for the night?”

  “If we ride,” he said, “we close the gap that much more. On the other hand, it would feel good to sleep in a bed. You know, since the shooting, I tire out much more quickly than I used to.”

  Goddamn but I was glad to hear him say that. I weren’t the only one. I decided to admit the truth to him too then, since he had done admitted it to me. “Yeah,” I said. “Me too.” We went on over to the rooming house and got us a room. They had plenty of beds. Loganville weren’t the busiest little town I had ever stopped over in. Well, we still had us an afternoon to waste, and I was tired, but I weren’t sleepy, so I decided to spend the rest of the day right there in that little eating and drinking place. I ordered me up a whiskey, and it weren’t too bad. Sly, he stuck by me, but he drunk coffee. It musta been nigh onto five o’clock whenever ole Hoig come in there and found us. He come right over to our table.

  “I just got a wire,” he said. “You’ll be interested.”

  “What is it?” I said.

  “Them Jaspers,” he said. “They stopped over in Dog Creek, south of here.”

  “I know the place,” I said.

  “They killed a man, then lit out,” Hoig said. “Still headed south or southwest. They sent out a posse after them, but it come back empty-handed. Thought you’d like to know.”

  “When did all this happen?” Sly asked.

  “Just last night,” Hoig said.

  “That means they’re about four days ahead of us,” I said. Then, looking up at ole Hoig, I added, “That about right?”

  “Yeah,” he said “About four days, I’d say.”

  “And with a posse on their ass,” I said, “they was likely moving fast outa Dog Creek.”

  “Yeah,” Sly said, kinda musing-like.

  “What say we hit the sack early then and get us a good early start in the morning,” I said. “We might oughta move fast for a while to catch up some. Then slow down again later on down the trail.”

  “That’s a good idea, Baijack,” Sly said. “A couple of good ideas.”

  We thanked ole Hoig for the information and went on over to the rooming house. I took a bottle with me in case I couldn’t get right to sleep, but as it turned out, I didn’t really have no trouble. Damn, I thought, but this here traveling is wearing my ole ass out. I knowed it was the bullet holes that was the cause of it, though, and I went to sleep a-cussing the goddamn Jaspers.

  *

  It was a long stretch from Loganville to Dog Creek, and it was boring as hell, but it did get a little warmer the farther we moved south. We rid along fast for a while, then slowed down so we wouldn’t ruin our horses. We done like that for a couple of days. Then we moved along more or less normal for the next two days. There ain’t nothing much more to say about the rest of that part of the trip. We come into Dog Creek kinda late, so we just got us some beds for the night, figgering to ask our questions in the morning. I was tired as hell and went right to sleep after only a couple of good snorts of booze.

  The next morning after we’d had us a greasy breakfast at a local eating place follered by a few cups of coffee what tasted like lamp oil, me and ole Sly went and looked up the local law, which in Dog Creek they called a constable. The feller’s name was Hack Thurmond. We told him we was on the trail of them Jaspers what had did a killing in his town, and we asked him if his posse had did any good.

  “They come back empty,” Thurmond told us. ‘Tracked them a good ways southwest and had to give it up.”

  I give Sly a look and said, “It seems like as if they ain’t changed their plans none.”

  “What plans is that?” Thurmond said.

  “Aw, we just heard that the bastards was headed for New Mexico,” I said. “That’s all.”

  “Well, fellers,” Thurmond said, “if you catch up with them and live through it, I hope you’ll stop back by and let me know.”

  “We’ll do that,” I said.

  “That’s a promise,” Sly added.

  We packed up and headed our asses southwest. I had thought that the weather would keep getting warmer the souther we went, but it was only about midaftemoon whenever it commenced to snowing. We kept on a-going, but it become obvious in just a while that it weren’t a-fixing to let up no time soon. In fact, the snow kept a-getting heavier and the damn snowflakes bigger.

  “Damn it, Sly,” I said, “we’re going to have to hole up somewheres. We can’t keep going in this.”

  “I’m afraid you’re right,” he said. “What do you suggest?”

  We had been riding along the edge of a pretty big ranch for some miles, so I said, “Let’s see if we don’t come across a line shack somewheres soon. If we don’t, we’re just going to have to stop and make do with a camp. Try to find some trees and throw together some kinda shelter.”

  Well, we never found no line shack, but we did come across some trees alongside a creek in another few miles, and we decided we had better stop there if we knowed what the hell was good for us. We rid on into the trees, took keer of our horses, and started in to making camp. It was a good thing we had packed in so many provisions, too. We used us a couple of extra blankets to fashion out a kinda lean-to shelter there under them trees, and we fixed up our sleeping space on down underneath there. We also built us up a fire for cooking over and for keeping us a little warmer under the edge of that shelter. I fetched us some fresh water from the creek, and we had us a pot of coffee going pretty damn quick. It was still a bit early for our next meal.

  “Goddamn it,” I said, as we was waiting for the coffee to boil on up, “this here snow is going to slow us up somewhat, and it will damn sure wipe out any tracks them Jaspers has left behind.”

  “It could be worse than that,” he said. “If it’s not snowing on south where they are, they’ll be able to get even farther ahead of us than they are already.”

  “Damn it,” I said.

  “There’s no use worrying about it,” Sly said. “It’s already on us. The best we can do is deal with it. At least we know what direction they’re heading, and if their pattern holds, it’s not difficult to trace their movements. Every place they go through they leave an impression.”

  “That’s for sure,” I said.

  It kept on a-snowing all that afternoon, and we fin’ly cooked us our evening meal and et it. I left off the coffee then and pulled out one of my bottles. Ole Sly still wouldn’t drink no whiskey. It become obvious to me that he meant to stay cold sober at least till our little job was did. But me, I finished off that bottle that evening. When it come dark the snow was still a-falling, and we crawled on under our covers for the night. I slept like a damn log, but Sly musta got up ever’ now and then during the night, ‘cause our fire was still a-going good whenever I woke up the next morning. It had quit snowing, but the snow was deep all around us. We made some coffee and some breakfast, and we et.

  “We ain’t going to move very fast in that pile of white,” I said.

  “No, we’re not,” Sly said. “But it looks to me like it’s over, and the sun’s coming out strong. I think we won’t have to wait it out too much long
er.”

  So we done that, and sure enough, that ole sun come out and commenced to melting the snow. There was already enough piled up, though, that it weren’t going to melt it down right away. By midaftemoon, we figgered we’d be able to ride out the next morning. “That’ll put them bastards at least five days ahead of us,” I said.

  “When they get far enough south to feel safe,” Sly said, “they’ll stop to rest and play somewhere. We’ll catch up with them.”

  We spent one more night in that place, and then we headed out. The snow weren’t too deep no more, but in places it was sure as hell muddy. But the sun stayed out good and warmed the air up enough to make it at least tolerable. I was glad for that. We rid on for another day and come to a little town. It sure weren’t nothing to brag on, and if it had a name I never seen it nowhere and never heard it called. We couldn’t find no law, and so we asked in the saloon if them Jaspers had been through.

  “Four men that fits your description rode through here about five days ago,” the barkeep said. “They stopped in here and had a couple drinks, then went on.”

  They hadn’t caused no trouble, so he didn’t have nothing more to say about them, but at least we knowed we was still on the right trail. I had me one drink in there just kinda to show my appreciation for the information, and then me and Sly went on our way. For two days nothing more happened to talk about. We was in open country, and the weather was better. Neither me nor Sly knowed just exactly where we was at, and we slept and et at campsites along the way. Then we come onto a place called North Dooley. It was a fair size. We was both of us wore out from all of our traveling, so we hunted up a place to stay. It was a real actual hotel with a eating place and a saloon downstairs. We got us rooms, unpacked for the night, stabled our horses, and ordered us up a real good meal. Sly went on up to bed, but I went into the saloon for a drink or two.