Chapter 2

 

The two took their time, enjoying the light breeze that had sprung up bringing the smell of wild flowers and untrampled grasslands. Since leaving northern Texas they had ridden through an ever changing landscape. From the dryness of the Texas plains up into the higher prairie of the Indian Territory where they found better grazing country and even, in the higher mountain ranges, thick forests.

The road they took coming out of the territorial capital, Fort Rawlins, was well defined, being used by farm wagons, stage coaches and herds of cattle being driven to market. At one place, not far from the town they were riding to, Auburn, the road ran alongside a river. Not a big river, such as those they were more familiar with like the Rio Grande or the Brazos, but still too big to be considered merely a creek.

‘Bet there’s some good fishing there,’ said Louie, stopping in the middle of a wide log bridge to look down into the water.

‘Now tell the truth, Louie, when’s the last time you went fishing? Fact is, have you ever gone fishing?’

Louie laughed. ‘Nope, can’t say I have. Doesn’t make much sense to me, putting a worm on a hook and then sitting patiently for a hungry fish to come by. Anyway, I’m not sure I’d want to eat something that fed on worms. Would you?’

‘No, but then I’ve had some darn good meals with fish and oysters and the like and I never questioned what kinds of things they ate. Think of the bacon you like at breakfast time. Ever think about what mud that hog the bacon came from had wallowed in? Best not to think about things like that.’

The two men laughed and rode on, enjoying each other’s company and the day.

Riding on into Auburn the two stopped at the far edge of town to look the place over. Not a big town, from what they could see all the businesses fronted on both sides of one wide street. Thick dust from the dirt street made the false-fronted buildings all look to have been painted with the same brush.

‘Town could use a good rain storm,’ said Louie, ‘wash some of that dust off everything.’

‘From the looks of things, it’s been a while since there’s been any rain. But look there, all the way in today, all the grasslands have been high and green. Must be a lotta ground water.’

‘Well, we’re here. So what do we do now?’

‘I’d say we take care of ourselves then go have a talk with Winterbottom. He’s the mayor so I reckon he’s got a good handle on things.’

Riding down the main street they read the painted signs, noting where the sheriff’s office was, and the bank and the hotel. At the far end of the businesses was a huge barn.

‘I reckon these horses could use a good feed and maybe a brushing. I spotted a Chinese laundry back there. Probably got public baths out back.’

‘Then it’s to that restaurant. Gawd, I’m so tired of your cooking, I could spit.’

Buck laughed. ‘You weren’t complaining this morning. I noticed you didn’t leave much behind on your tin plate.’

Climbing stiffly out of the saddle, Buck nodded to the old timer standing in the livery’s double doorway. ‘Afternoon. We’d like to feed and brush out our animals.’

‘Wal, I reckon. Cost ya two-bits a piece. Cash money up front.’

Smiling, Buck dug into a pocket and brought out some coins. The livery man took them and nodded. ‘Wal, for an extry two-bits I’ll do the brushing fer ya.’

‘Thanks but no,’ said the big man. ‘Fact is I’d better warn you. This horse of mine don’t like people much. He’s got a bad temper and, well, I’d stay a long way off from him, was I you.’

‘Ah, teach your mother to suck eggs, young fella. I been around horses man and boy. Ain’t see one yet what I can’t handle.’

Louie laughed and started stripping the saddle from his big brown gelding. ‘Buck, if’n I was you I’d go ahead and let this old coot try his hand. That black stud horse of yours would teach him a lesson.’

‘Naw, I can’t do that, Louie.’ Turning to the old man, Buck nodded. ‘You got to be careful of Ol’ Horse here, front and back. Has a bad habit of biting and kicking, he does.’ Picking up a stiff-bristled brush from a shelf he started brushing the black’s dusty hide, always keeping one eye on the animal’s nose.

The horse wasn’t a great beauty, but he and Buck had been partners for a long time and both knew about the other. Thinking about it as he worked, Buck chuckled. Horse was hard mouthed, strong willed and pigheaded, that was for sure. He’d warned the old wrangler of the animal’s bad temper but hadn’t mentioned how thin his tolerance was for the man who rode him. Buck knew given the chance Ol’ Horse would take a hunk out of his butt.

Leaving the horses with a bait of oats and the freedom of the corrals out back, the two men headed down the street toward the restaurant.

Starting with mugs of steaming hot coffee, they were just putting knife and fork to thick slabs of half-cooked beef steaks when the restaurant door opened and a man pushed though. Louie glanced at the man, then looked to make sure Buck saw him. He had.

Barely able to pass through the doorway without turning sideways, the man waddled into the room. Waddled, Louie thought, walking like a duck, swaying side to side with each step. Short and round, the man’s body was curved from shoulder to ankle. Wearing a pinstriped suit, the buttons on his vest looked to be about to bust free. His head, bald and as round as his body, was perched on almost non-existent shoulders like a billiard ball balanced on a melon.

‘Gentlemen,’ the newcomer said, pulling a chair around and sitting at the table. ‘Let me introduce myself. I’m William J. Winterbottom, mayor of this fine community. I would guess you are James B. Armstrong and Louie Lewis. Is that not correct?’

Louie almost choked, having just taken a mouthful of beef. Buck swallowed and nodded.

‘Yes,’ said the big man slowly, ‘you guessed right. My partner, Louie and I’m Buck Armstrong.’ He hesitated a moment before putting a hand out to shake.

‘Ah, good. I’ve been watching for you. Have to get something done, you know. Can’t be having people stringing up people right, left and centre. Not good for business, you understand. No sir. Not good at all.’

Not to be bothered by the interruption, the two men went back to cutting pieces off their steaks and continued eating.

‘Yes,’ said the mayor after a moment, ‘I shouldn’t be bothering you while you’re having your meal. I apologize. However, it is important you succeed with your job as soon as possible. There are a lot of things at stake here. Yes, indeed. Big things. Big for Auburn and for the state.’

Buck finished chewing and stopped. ‘State? I thought this was still a territory? When did it become a state?’

‘Well. . . .’ The rotund man fidgeted, one hand dry-washing the other as he stammered, ‘Yes. You are right. We are a territory. But that will change. Yes sir,’ he said gathering up steam, ‘statehood can’t be far away. All the important people, the business people, you know, throughout the territory are working hard to that end. Statehood, gentlemen, means a lot for this part of this great country of ours.’

‘Uh, señor,’ said Louis sounding more Mexican than ever, ‘is what you want us to do part of that? Getting the territory to become a state?’

‘Yes, sir. A mighty big part. However it is doubtful the US Congress will approve of statehood if reports of men getting hung continue to be heard. It is vital your work is done and done as quickly as possible.’

Turning to Buck, Louie grimaced. ‘You see, mi compadre? I told you to ask for more money for this little job. Didn’t I? Sí. I did. Now we have lost that opportunity. Now we do this job and ride away with only a few dollars in our pockets when we could have been rich. Sí. Rich.’

‘Well,’ said Winterbottom, holding his hands up, ‘we have an agreement. We settled on the terms. Don’t think you can come in here and hold us up. No sir. Our business people who are fronting this effort won’t see to it. No sir.’

Louie, slowly shaking his head, looked sad. ‘Sí, señor. Yo comprehende. We have agreed. We will do the job for the amount agreed on.’ Quickly holding out his hand, he smiled evilly at the mayor. ‘Now is a good time for us to be paid, no?’

‘Uh, uh, well, yes. I suppose. However I don’t have the money on me. Not right this minute.’

Buck cut in. ‘That’s all right. We’ll wait a bit for our money. Meanwhile, once we finish up with our lunch, we’d like to sit down and talk about things.’

‘It is simple; we want you to get rid of the so-called Vigilance Committee. They are destroying our town. Our businesses. Calling people rustlers and hanging them. It has to cease.’

‘And the good people here don’t know who they are? Don’t they care about what this committee of vigilantes are doing?’

Back to dry-washing his hands, it was the mayor’s turn to look sad. ‘These are good people, yes indeed. But still . . . I hate to say it, but still there are some who think the Vigilance Committee are doing the right thing. Yes, it’s hard to believe, but, well, I’ve heard some talk from some pretty important people who think vigilance committees to be “popular tribunals” and are necessary to protect life and property. Why, just recently,’ said the man getting a little excited in his talk, ‘in an article in the Auburn Journal, the editor lamented the rustling of livestock. He went so far as to write something – here, let me read it to you.’ Taking a piece of paper from a pocket, he adjusted his glasses and started reading. ‘ “It is high time a quietus in the shape of a good hemp rope and a high tree limb is administered to stop such proceedings”.’ Putting the paper back in his pocket, he frowned. ‘It is hard to admit, but it is the truth, not everyone sees the Vigilance Committee as being a bad thing. And believe it or not, some of those are among the business people who are paying you. Yes, some of them hope you fail and will likely do what they can to stop you from succeeding.’