Chapter Twelve
About forty miles south of where Shamrock and the others had spent the night, back in Seven Oaks, Sheriff Munson had invited Abe Sobel down to the sheriff’s office.
“I have something I would like to show you,” the sheriff said. “I’ve got a reward poster that you might be interested in.”
“On me?” Sobel asked apprehensively.
“No, not on you. But I think you’ll be interested in this one, nevertheless. It’s one I just put out.”
When they reached sheriff’s office, Munson pulled out a just-printed flyer.

—WANTED—
SID SHAMROCK
$5,000 Reward
Illustration DEAD OR ALIVE
$2, 000 ea. for THOSE WITH HIM
(as yet unidentified)
CONTACT: Sheriff Munson, Seven Oaks, Texas

“That’s an awful lot of money,” Sobel said.
“Would you be interested in going after it?”
“Yeah,” Sobel said, nodding. “Yeah, I would.”
“Do you have any idea where to start?”
“He has a brother,” Sobel said. “I told you I used to ride with him? Well, it was for only one job, ’n me ’n Shamrock ’n his brother did it together.”
“Abe, you didn’t . . . uh, what I’m asking is, was anyone ... ?”
“There was nobody hurt in the job,” Sobel replied.
Sheriff Munson nodded. “Good. If there was nobody killed, then I can disregard any paper that might come out about it.”
Sobel went back to his room in Mrs. Rittenhouse’s Boarding Home and began packing to start on the quest. He had $215 left from his share in the job he had done with Shamrock and his brother. That was all that remained from the $1,000 he had been given. He knew, without a doubt, that the brothers had netted a great deal more from the bank robbery in Sulphur Springs, but he was outnumbered and unable to do anything about it.
That had been his first and only foray beyond the limits of the law. Ever since his arrival in Seven Oaks, Sobel had earned his living as a mechanic and hostler for the Potashnick Stage Coach Line. The last thing he would have to do before leaving town would be to quit his job.
“I’m goin’ to hate to lose you, Abe, you’re a good mechanic and a dependable man,” Morty Potashnick said. “But, if you’re going after the sons of bitches who killed Mr. Matthews, then you have my blessings. Wait a minute, you’ve got near a month’s wages coming to you. I’ll give ’em to you now.”
Although only half of the month had passed, Potashnick counted out $55, which was actually the full month’s payment.
“That’s very generous of you, Mr. Potashnick.”
“Glad to do it. Good luck to you, Abe.”
Sky Meadow Ranch
“Damn, damn, damn!” Elmer said.
“Three damns, is it?” Duff said. “’N would ye be for tellin’ me what calamity it is, that would elicit a three-damn fanfare?”
“The sucker rod on the windmill is busted.”
“Do you suppose Mr. Guthrie would have a replacement?”
“Yeah, I know he does, on account of I’ve saw ’em there when I was in his place oncet,” Elmer replied.
“Well, then, the broken rod doesn’t seem to be that much of a disaster. Just send a couple of men into town and . . .”
“They mighten not get the right one,” Elmer said. “I’d best go in my ownself. I know exactly what I’m lookin’ for.”
“All right.”
“’N if you don’t mind, I’ll take Wang with me. I’ve got a hankerin’ for Chinese food, ’n I think one of the waitresses at Lee Fong’s Chinese Restaurant has set her cap for Wang, ’cause when he is with me, we get more food.”
“Then, by all means, take Wang with you.”
As the two men were talking, they saw a rider coming toward them, and as Percy Gaines had been doing a couple of weeks earlier, this rider, too, was pushing some cows before him.
“That’s Poke Terrell,” Elmer said. Poke was the twelve-year-old son of Ethan Terrell, a small rancher, whose ranch, the Diamond T, was somewhat larger than The Queen. Elmer chuckled. “For a boy, he’s pretty good at pokin’ cows, ain’t he?”
“The Diamond T does quite well,” Duff said.
“Yeah.” By then Poke was upon them.
“What do you have there, Poke?” Elmer asked.
“These here is your cows, ’n Pa asked me to bring ’em back to you.”
“I thank ye, boy,” Duff said. “And I thank yer father as well.”
“Pa said to tell you that he don’t know how them cows got from your place over to our’n. I mean it bein’ more ’n ten miles ’n all.”
“I suppose they just wandered off,” Duff replied. “But it was good of ye to bring ’em back.”
“By the way, Poke, the heathen has made some doughnuts if you’d like to take a few with you when you start back home,” Elmer invited.
“Yes, sir, I’d love that. Thanks!”
A few minutes later Poke started on the ten-mile ride back home, eating one doughnut and carrying almost a dozen with him.
“What would you like to bet that they don’t a one o’ them doughnuts make it all the way back to the Diamond T?” Elmer asked.
“I would nae be for takin’ that bet,” Duff said.
Duff was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “Elmer, do ye think it be a strange thing that our cattle seem to be straying off now? First, it was Percy who brought them back, ’n now the young Terrell boy.”
“I don’t know,” Elmer said. “I reckon I ain’t give it that much thought. Most especial since we ain’t actual lost none, I mean, what with Percy ’n the boy here, bringin’ ’em back.”
“Aye, should be nothing to worry about, but I cannae help but consider the wonder of it. Why have our cattle started to wander when they have nae done so before?”
“That is a puzzlement,” Elmer agreed. “Well, I think I’ll get me a team hitched up to a wagon so’s me ’n Wang can go into town ’n buy us a sucker valve.”
Twin Peaks Ranch
“Me ’n Pearson need to go into town ’n get some more grease,” Cooper said. Cooper and Pearson had taken over the job of changing the wagon wheels since Slim and Dooley had been killed. “Some o’ them wagon wheels is so dry that it’d cause a body to wonder how it is that they was a-turnin’ at all. ’N what we done is, we run outta grease afore we could get ’em all packed.”
“All right,” Turley said. “I’ve been needin’ a few things my ownself, so I’ll just go into town with you.”
“There ain’t no need in them two boys goin’ with you,” Malcolm said. “Me ’n Dobbins will go with you.”
“I thought you men weren’t going to have anything to do with the regular work on the ranch,” Turley said.
Malcolm chuckled. “Hell, we ain’t goin’ to change the damn wheels or pack the grease. We’re just goin’ into town is all.”
“Yeah ’n maybe get us a whiskey or two,” Dobbins added.
* * *
Shortly after Turley, Malcolm, and Dobbins left, Knox stepped into the ranch office without being invited. Houser looked up, the expression on his face registering his irritation at the intrusion.
“Mr. Knox, this is my private office,” Houser said. “I don’t allow my employees to come in at their whim. You must either be invited or request permission to enter.”
“Yeah, well I sort of thought that, bein’ the way things is, that I wasn’t like anyone else who works for you.”
“Oh? And just what sets you apart from the others, may I ask?”
“Slim ’n Dooley.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You know, how you had me take care of Slim ’n Dooley for you? Well, it’s more ’n likely that you’ll be findin’ more jobs for me like that. So what I was thinkin’ is, maybe you’d like to pay me a little more ’n you’re payin’ me now.”
“Mr. Knox, I gave you a special bonus for that job, and I am paying you one hundred dollars a month now. That is almost five times more than I am paying any of my hands.”
“Yeah, but I know things that your hands don’t know. Plus, I got Malcolm ’n Dobbins to look after. So I was thinkin’, maybe, two hundred dollars a month.”
“Suppose I meet your demand, Mr. Knox. What assurance will I have that you won’t come back, asking for more?”
Knox held up his right hand. “Well, you got my word on it, Mr. Houser.”
“Your ‘word,’ Mr. Knox, is a fragile guarantee at best. However, under the circumstances, I will have to depend on it. You shall have your raise.”