CHAPTER 6
Spud was there in the dark with a rifle for him and hugging the ground.
“You know how many?” Chet asked, seated on his bedroll fighting to pull his boots on.
He took the rifle and heard Hampt say, “They’re running for it. Boys, come on.”
The pungent smell of pines rode the cool night air. Chet rushed for the horse line, and the shadowy starlight poured down through the high boughs. Ahead of him and Spud, Hampt and another guard were firing their rifles after the fleeing raiders. Chet saw the orange flashes of their gun muzzles when he caught up with them.
“We get any of them?”
“One or two,” Hampt said, reloading his rifle.
“Well, the rest escaped, I guess?”
The Verde Ranch cowboy Lester had one by the collar, shoving him along ahead of him. “I got one of them. Another ain’t moving.”
“What’s your name?” Chet handed Spud the rifle and when the man stone-faced him, he jerked him by two hands full of shirt up in his face. “Stealing horses out here is a hanging offense. You either tell me who hired you and what they said for you to do or I’m hanging you. What’s your name? Let’s start there.”
“August Danes.”
“Tell me about why you raided us.”
“He said he’d pay us a hundred apiece to stop any buckboard deliveries coming out of here.”
“Who was that?”
“I don’t know his name.”
“What kind of hat did he wear?”
“Fancy Boss of the Plains one.”
Chet released his shirt. “How were you to collect your money?”
“Said he’d meet us at Mormon Lake next week and pay us.”
These men were more of Hall’s hands, no doubt. “He give you and the rest twenty bucks for drink and cathouse fare?”
“Yeah, how did you know that?”
“He did that same deal with the last ones who tried to kill me. One’s dead. One’s in jail and the third one ran off.”
“What you going to do with me?”
“Slap you in the Yavapai County Jail and let you stand trial for manslaughter and horse stealing. Where is the other outlaw at?”
“Dead,” Spud said.
“We can bury him at Center Point. Men, this war has just begun in earnest. Keep your gun hand free. He will try again, so be alert at all times. Who was the dead one?”
“Sonny Brooks.”
“Where did you hail from?”
“Texas. Him too.”
“Handcuff him, Spud. They are in my saddlebags. He’s your prisoner.”
“Yes sir.”
They began making breakfast. They recovered one live saddle horse, two saddles, and a prisoner. After the meal of coffee, oatmeal, raisins, and brown sugar, they washed dishes and loaded up for the final push to Center Point. Taking no chances, Chet kept the cheek strap on the bridle against his left leg mounting the dun horse. In the saddle he had control of the big horse in the cool dark morning, and they rode for headquarters.
When they arrived at headquarters in mid-afternoon a thundershower swept in, but he was under cover when the big droplets of rain pounded the tent roof accompanied with rolling thunder.
Val was there with Rocky, who had lots to tell his daddy about things happening in camp—like the gray cat had four kittens. Val added that Cole and Dennis should be back anytime. There had been another raid on a road stop, but the station people had held them off. No one had been hurt.
Things were getting tougher as the time drew near. Thank God these raiders that, so far, Hall had hired were only itinerant cowboys and not the real bad tough guys. But Chet would have bet he’d be sending for the meaner ones if he hadn’t already. They might not get here in time to stall the first run, but no telling when and where they’d start to disrupt service.
Obviously Hall knew the strengths and weakness of every stop. Station operators reported he’d been there at their places looking over them for investment purposes. He’d get that elusive devil somehow. In the meanwhile he had to make the stops more secure against those hired bandits.
Val asked him how the buckboard situation looked.
“We are doing good if we can stop any ambush efforts. No telling how many unemployed hands he’s hired to raid us and where. I am concerned he will dump some real bad men on top of us. Poor leadership and inept warriors so far are not hard to fend off. But I am concerned he may have some tougher gun hands coming. His pockets must be deep, and he’s determined to stop us.”
“Have you asked Hannagen?”
“No, but he may know him and who he works for.”
“You’re right.” Valerie herded him to a table under the peck of hail on the canvas. “The lack of communication compared to Preskitt makes it hard to operate.”
“We are learning lots and we will obviously have more to do. When Cole gets back we will send the rigs out to the stations that need them. I will call a meeting of the extra men who brought rigs up here and see if they want to be shotgun guards on the first runs. I think if each buckboard is guarded we’d have less attacks. Unless he gets some real desperados to make raids on us.”
“You think he can get them?”
“Money. Money can buy him an army if he has that much.”
She reached over and squeezed his hand. “You be careful. You know he wants you out of the way.”
Cole arrived back that evening. He had captured three raiders. One was wounded and probably would die. The lack of medical support almost ensured the twice-wounded raider would not live to be put in the Yavapai County Jail down in Preskitt.
“Unemployed ranch hands?” Chet asked him when Cole and his man Dennis Crain sat down with him.
“Yes. They hit two stations in a row and we ran them down.”
“They work for the man who wore a Boss of the Plains Stetson with no name?”
“Yes, but one guy knew him as Anson Hall from Texas,” Crain said. “Others say his real name is Gerald.”
“Get the one knows him up here. I want to know all he knows about him.”
Crain stood up. “I can get him. His name is Schroder.”
“You want to know more about Hall?” Cole asked.
“He hired the raiders on the military road up from the Verde Valley that struck us too.”
Hampt joined them and shook Cole’s hand. “You rounded them up, huh?”
Cole nodded. “There were four of them. Hall promised them a hundred apiece if they burned down a station. They were easy to track down, and we have a guy that knew Hall. My man Crain has gone to get this guy that knew Hall from Texas.”
“I bet he paid them twenty apiece for whiskey money and a woman.”
Cole agreed. “Same as he did the bunch that wrecked our buckboard.”
“Cheap help, huh? He has not paid a hundred bucks apiece for any raid yet.” Chet shook his head.
Schroder looked to be in his thirties. His clothes were dirty and he was unshaven, standing with hands tied behind his back.
“Oren Schroder, tell my boss Chet Byrnes all you know about this Hall.”
“Well, I had not seen Anson Hall since Fort Worth. He had a gang of thugs hired there and they rode roughshod on stores and businesses that all paid him protection money. The police and a judge cracked down on them. The rangers came in and before they could arrest him, he took a powder and ran for his life. Before leaving he cleaned out a safe because they found it empty. I saw him in a bar at Mesilla when I came west. He told me he would have some work for me and to join him at Dead Horse Crossing a month later.”
“He give you money then?”
“Twenty bucks.”
“Was it worth it?”
“I had some good food, whiskey, and a nice visit with a lady.”
“Well, you will find some prison time for you. How many more has he hired?”
“I’m not sure. Curly Bill Snow I think was coming to work for him.”
“He’s a killer wanted in several states,” Crain said.
“You know he’s coming?” Chet asked Schroder.
“Hall mentioned him. Snow’s a real bad guy.”
“Well, thanks.”
The man nodded and Crain took him away.
“How would Hall profit from the mail contract if he had it? No way for him to profit from us failing. He is working for someone, and we need to learn who that is.”
“Hannagen must know his opposition,” Val said, and they all nodded in agreement. “That is the answer then.”
“Where are Jesus and Spencer?”
“They rode east to check on a bunch of raiders that struck out there again, and I have not heard from them.”
“If it will be all right, Spud and I will go see if we can help them.” Hampt offered.
“In the morning if they aren’t back, you two can go look for them. But remember there are people who don’t want this to succeed and they’ll kill you.”
“I understand. Thanks. Spud, let’s get some packhorses ready to go.”
“Okay. We’ll find them.”
“You two be real careful,” Chet told them. “I don’t want May to cry over you or Spud.”
“I’ll be double careful then.” Spud beamed because that made him feel like he belonged too.
“I better get over there to New Mexico and be ready for the start,” Chet said.
“You want me along?” Cole asked.
“Maybe you better stay here. I don’t need you hurt in an attack.”
“Who is going with you?” Val asked. “Jesus is not here. Hampt and Spud are going looking for him. I don’t want you out there with a price on your head and no guards.”
Cole smiled. “You take Hampt and Spud. Crain and I will look for Jesus and Spencer.”
“Fine.”
All he needed was to have more trouble—what his enemies would try bothered him the most. He went to catch Hampt and Spud and tell them they were going along with him to Gallup, New Mexico.
In the mountain coolness they left the camp. Hampt, Spud, Cole, and Dennis Crain rode with Chet. They pushed hard and reached the first station in early afternoon. Herman Rothschild welcomed them. His Navajo wife Darling came out to welcome them. She was very excited as were his children when the men dismounted.
Chet saw right off that there were no horses or an extra buckboard at their ranch. One down and no stock or extra wagon there. And in less than a week they were supposed to be ready.
“Mr. Byrnes. How are you, sir?”
“Herman, I think you and Darling know these men with me. Except maybe Hampt . . . he runs a ranch for me down south of here.”
He removed his hat and bowed his head. “Yes, and we are very proud you all came by. Is all this raider business going to delay the start?”
“No, it will happen next Monday.”
Cole interjected, “We will bring you at least one team and a spare buckboard. I am going to check on the next stop and see if they have any horses. I will ride back after the next stop and bring you stock anyway.”
“Cole, we can make it work. They are way behind over there. It will get straight.”
“Have you seen our men, Jesus and Spencer?” Crain asked.
“Yes,” the stage stop operator said. “They were here yesterday and asked me about the men that told us to leave or they’d burn us down.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Two days earlier.”
“Those men who threatened you . . . have they been back?”
“No. But we have been ready for them. Darling can shoot.”
“Good. We need to ride on. Hear anything about my two men, send word to Center Point.”
“The horses are watered,” Spud reported, and everyone mounted up.
Chet shook his head and then he hugged Darling and told her they’d keep them safe. They soon were in the saddle and riding east.
He rode, speaking out loud and asked, “I wonder if Carpenter delivered anything he said they would. We have to have three or four teams besides a spare buckboard.”
“It was the only thing he and his men had to do,” Cole said. “Tomorrow morning when we get to Clyde Covington’s station, if he has nothing, I will head back and supply those two, but we have two more stations after that to check on.”
“You’re right. I have no answer as to why they don’t have it done. I also wish we knew where Jesus and Spencer were.”
“I bet they’re gathering outlaws,” Spud said, booting his horse up to them.
“I hope you’re right.”
“Oh, I know Jesus. Those two are on their tracks,” Hampt said.
Chet rode along. “I never felt overwhelmed before over the vastness of this country since I came here. We simply rode to where we needed to be. But the stops tied us down. Both distance and lack of communication are restraining us. We better trot more.” He nudged his horse out as they crossed the great open grass empire eastward.
They camped for the night at the next water hole. They’d be at Rob Simms’s Two Forks Trading Post by mid-morning the next day. He hoped they had stage horses.
They had a short supper of jerky and some soda crackers. They boiled some coffee. Lack of firewood shorted their cooking needs. But everyone was in good humor despite the lack of the usual available in camp. They turned in at darkness and rose early. Horses resaddled, and packhorses also ready, they rode east facing the rising sun.
Heat and dust rose as they went on until mid-morning when they reached the second station. The pens held several horses and even a buckboard stood parked.
Chet blinked. Cole rode in close. “Those horses are paints. Carpenter didn’t send them to him. Those came from Navajos.”
“I wonder what the situation here is.”
Simms came outside joined by his one of his Navajo wives, the lead one of two Navajo women the man had. Chet knew her name was Naomi. She wore white women clothing and looked very proper when she spoke to them. “Welcome to our outpost.”
“Thank you. We’re very pleased to be here, Naomi.”
Chet let the others, aside from Cole, go inside, and asked his agent, “Did they ask you to buy horses?”
“Rod Carpenter is his name?”
“Yes, he is the supply man on this end.”
“He asked me to buy a hundred harness-broke horses in a week. I have eighty-five and more coming.”
“He have plans to scatter them to other places?”
“I don’t know. He said buy them and the company would repay me.”
“What did he say to pay for them?”
“Twenty dollars apiece. Is something wrong?”
“No, that is enough. There was no mention of distributing them?”
“No, he said just to buy them.”
“What should we do, Cole?”
“Those horses are all broke enough to drive?” Cole asked the trader.
“Yes. Navajos drive their wives and families to the beef distribution and to trading posts like mine every week. Sometimes more often.”
“Good. Eight horses per stop, we will have plenty for all the stops. I will need to get them to the places they belong. Are there some Indian boys who could help me deliver them for a dollar a day and food?”
Simms laughed. “How many do you need?”
“Oh, five or six.”
“I will have them here in the morning to take the horses wherever you need them. They will have bedrolls and be ready to travel.”
“Good. That suit you?” Cole asked Chet.
“Yes. Simms, I will be certain you are paid too. Not that anyone might skip out, but nothing they have done in New Mexico has been on time or correct in my mind. I am also looking for two of my men. Have you seen either Jesus, who you know, and another man called Spencer?”
Simms nodded, to Chet’s relief. Then he said, “They were after some men who had threatened station operators to close or they’d burn them out. Your two stopped and visited with us for a short time, then hit the saddle. They thought they had a hot trail.”
“Those other men ever threaten you?”
“No, or I’da had them killed before they could do that or tried it. There were four of them rode through but they didn’t stop. My wife saw them and said they must be hardcases, and when your men came by a day and a half behind them, they told me what it was those men had done back west.”
“Any idea where they went?”
“To New Mexico I guess. Those two men of yours bought some supplies from me and rode off after them.”
“That sounds fine. Cole and your hired boys will take the horses west, and I will ride on toward Gallup in the morning. Extra buckboards are coming too. Did Carpenter mention the harness coming?”
“Never mentioned it at all. I did not ask either. All he said was buy a hundred sound driving horses.”
“You did great.”
“I’ll put our horses up,” Spud said, gathering them.
“All of you, come inside to my dining room and we will eat supper shortly,” his woman said. “You come too, cowboy.”
Holding several reins, Spud bowed toward her. “I will sure be there, ma’am.”
The woman laughed and led the others to the trading post.
Later that night in a guest cabin bed, Spud asked him, “Was Carpenter going to deliver those horses?”
“Damned if I know. We are very close to starting, and he has done little if anything but bitch about legitimate bills.”
“How far are we from Gallup?”
“Two days. Why?”
“That leaves little time to start the first one west and east. Does Cole have a man out there for the first drive from that end?”
“I bet he does. I will ask him in the morning.”
“You’ve worried about this end so much—I hope he has someone.”
“We will know in the morning.” He wanted to shake his head about what next would happen. Where were Jesus and his new man Spencer? Hell only knew. That they were all right was all he could hope for.