CHAPTER 21
In the cool of morning the threesome left for home on the rocking stagecoach. Three miles west of Berne, three men wearing flour-sack masks stopped the driver and told everyone to get out. They were being held up.
Harp sharply told Katy to do as they asked. He had his .30-caliber Colt in his waistband and kept the presence of it under the brown suit coat he wore. He helped her down under the gun barrels of two of the outlaws on horseback, rifles pointed at them on that side of the coach.
“Get your hands up, mister,” said one of them, who, he figured, was only a boy.
The outlaws’ horses acted ready to spook, and two of them were shaky-handed pointing their guns. One of them dismounted and stepped up close to Doug, then demanded he unbuckle his gun belt and drop it.
Doug, instead, forced the robber’s gun hand up in the air and shot the man at close range with his own pistol. Gun smoke boiled.
Harp had his Colt out, cocked, and fired it in the other boy’s face. The third rider’s horse shied to the right and Doug’s next shot took him out and off his horse after the bullet from the robber’s rifle went off overhead.
Harp caught his wife when her knees buckled. He dropped his pistol to hold her. He was satisfied Doug was checking on the downed outlaws and seeing if there was any fight left in them.
The driver had the spooked teams held down. “You three all right?”
Doug told Harp to turn Katy around and then he shot each of the still living in their heads.
“Come help me get them off the road. The law can collect them,” he said to the driver.
“By gawd they sure won’t ever try to rob another stage. Mister, is your wife all right?”
“She will be shortly. Things got rather tight here for a minute or two.”
Kate was pale but getting her breath back. “Sorry. I just knew we’d all get killed.”
Set on her feet, she leaned her forehead on his chest.
“It is going to be all right. Walk around a little. This matter is over.”
Harp walked his wife in the short grass back and forth away from the corpses, while Doug hitched the would-be robbers’ horses to a farmer’s fence nearby. He checked their saddlebags.
Doug shook his head at him. “No loot in them.”
The driver said, “I’ll have the agent report this to the law at the next stage stop. The sheriff can handle it. Let’s load up and go.”
“I’m putting her back in the coach,” Harp said, then he retrieved his gun off the ground.
“Ma’am, I sure am so sorry about this happening,” the driver said as he closed the coach door after them.
“Don’t worry about me. I am fine. It’s over.”
“Still it is a bad thing every time someone tries that.”
In her seat she asked Harp, “Did he hear me?”
“Yes. I think it shook him badly, too.”
“Well, it was damn exciting. Doug, thank you, too.”
“Next stop, I need to reload my gun.”
“Yes, so do I. Let’s hope that does our robberies for now.”
They were off again and Harp started thinking about the drive. Doug was definitely the man to take one of the herds. Long needed to scout. He was damn good at appraising sites and knowing what was ahead. Their dad never said if he would take a herd. He was getting near fifty years old. He had no physical things wrong that Harp knew about—but he didn’t like to leave their mom alone that long.
He still needed another man to head the third herd if his dad didn’t. Chaw Michaels might be the one. Long would have some ideas by this time and they’d need to nail down that third herd leader.
When they got back to his parents’ place, Katy became sick. His mother told him not to worry, that it was part of her pregnancy, but he looked back on the violent scene they had with the stage robbers as bringing it on and regretted her being there. He stayed busy making plans and learned that Long was still branding cattle in the same location. Hiram had not come home, either.
His mother sounded concerned about Hiram working too hard since he had eased back a lot on doing physical things in the past two years. His brother had lots of things going on up there at that ranch they owned, and since his mom was well behind the line from the Comanche raids, Hiram was probably enjoying himself being in on the scheme of things.
Harp did all he could on his books, and, the next morning, when Kate felt somewhat better, he and Doug rode for the cow camp. They made a quick trip and found everyone busy branding. The whole outfit looked worn out except his dad, who was laughing and enjoying himself over the whole situation.
Long looked gaunt to him; he must have lost twenty pounds in the past ten days. When finally dragged back into camp, Harp asked him how many cattle they had gathered.
Long took off his hat and wiped his forehead on his sleeve. “I can tell you now we’ll have three thousand steers in our own herd going north.”
“That’s one helluva herd.”
His brother slumped down on the bench and nodded his head. “And we will have them all in the pasture you rented.”
“Sounds great. I found enough cowboys for our old plan. I bought two good supply wagons and mules to pull them. A mowing machine and rake for Hoot. I have it coming.”
“You will never guess what I bought?” Long smiled over his secret.
“What is that?”
“Two bell steers. They are coming from Mexico.”
“Great. How much?”
“Two fifty for the pair.”
“That’s not bad. So when we get things all lined up we can road-brand all the cattle going north, but we will still need two cooks.”
“Ira has a good buddy. He knows this guy well and there also is a Chinese man in Kerrville that wants to be the other one.”
“If Dad can buy us twenty-five more saddle horses around the country, we’ll soon be set.”
“That may be hard, but he’s a hand at finding things. How else did it go in San Antonio?”
“Our banker there says if we need money wire him. Doug and I had a run-in with some stage robbers west of Berne.”
“I take it they didn’t rob you.”
“They won’t rob anyone again.”
“More people need to use that policy.”
Harp agreed. “Who’s taking the third herd? I figure Doug to take number two.”
“Good choice. Dad said he’d pass on it. I think Chaw can handle it. He ain’t Doug, but he has lots of savvy about men and isn’t afraid to work.”
Harp agreed with the choice. He had thought that all along. “I want him dressed up more. He needs to look like a leader. He don’t need a suit coat, but dress him up so he looks like the boss.”
“I had not thought about that, but yes, he needs to make an impression on people and his own men.”
“Horse wranglers?”
“We can pick them. I know you want Holy Wars wrangling for your bunch.”
“Yes, and we’ll need some camp boys to help the cooks. I found one in San Antonio. Say one or two per outfit? Whatever the cooks say they’ll need.”
“Yes, we can find them. I know we’ll be stretched thin, but I think spreading out the good men that we took north last year, who have some experience, throughout all three groups will help us get there. My lands, Harp, they have worked their butts off rounding up these cattle.”
“I know. And we will have a great drive. Let’s get them back to the home place and organize them into three teams.”
“I promised them two days off.”
“That’s good. They need it. Mom is concerned that Dad is working too hard.”
“He won’t take a desk job.”
“Long, we both knew that.”
The two started chuckling at the thought.
When he got back he could have called the home place “Tent City.” In no time, they had sidewall tents up for the men to sleep in in case of rain. One large tent for a mess hall and meetings was set up down near the large barn. A deep ditch was dug for their latrine and two sheepherder showers. Ira’s buddy’s name was Hopalong Sessions. He had a stiff right leg from the war, but he was a friendly guy and knew lots about minor doctor things. This was a good thing, since the cook was usually the acting physician on these trips. The third cook was Wing Chong. He cooked things more like what the boys would eat. He talked velly fast, but he came with good recommendations on how serious he was about his work.
One of the boys in the groups breaking Comanche horses was Holy Wars Brown who was the wrangler on the Greg drive and now took the position with the number one herd.
Harp had to know how he got that handle, but he had not had the chance to ask earlier.
“Well, sir, when I was born my real dad named me that and it stuck. I learned later that my mother and dad did not get along very good together. I never knew my real dad. Mom remarried two other men after that.”
“Thanks for sharing. Now, you will need to know every horse in your remuda. Each hand will be assigned five or six horses. They will give you the horse’s name that they want to ride; you rope it for them. They might not be a hand at doing it, but if you see some boy is a hand at roping horses, use him to help you. These horses, if used properly, won’t need grain. I mean them being rode on an every-five-day schedule. We only shoe the tender-footed ones. They get gaunt we can probably buy some grain—but that is expensive on the road. You are in charge . . . if we get a new hand, you will tell him what horses he will ride. Don’t give someone green a green bunch of horses. Let the bronc twisters have them. Savvy?”
“I think I’ll enjoy that. Say, Harper, I have learned a lot the last few weeks. When we caught them I said, why is he messing with this wild-colored bunch of plugs? I learned quick that they are powerful horses and will be great on the drive.”
“Holy, I know you are a great wrangler from the Sedalia drive. Thanks for staying on with us.”
Ira took the orphan boy Billy McCall for his helper.
* * *
Chaw was wearing his new Boss of the Plains Stetson hat. He also sported a tailored, blue denim shirt, as well as a leather vest and tan pants. He told Harp not to worry, he’d find someone to wrangle his horses.
Then he laughingly said, “I feel like a city dude in these clothes, but I know they make a man look like he’s a boss man. A year ago I wore a Confederate uniform and I agreed with you that none of us should wear them going north. I know that helped some in Missouri. I understand all what Long told me—you need to look like you’re the boss if you are the boss.”
Doug took his crew and went from ranch to ranch, road-branding the cattle he would take on the consignment phase. Chaw and his men went to the Diamond Ranch to do the same with the sisters’ herd. They had plenty of vaqueros there who helped them. Long took Harp’s bunch to work their own cattle already in pasture number four.
Long told him to take Katy, who was feeling much better, over and visit the old maids. They needed to be the team to satisfy those sisters, so they could do other drives for them over the years.
Harp hated to spend the time drinking tea and eating dry cookies, but he went over there a little dressed up. His boot shined, hair trimmed by his wife, and he wore his suit coat with a white shirt.
The two ladies were friendly and wanted to know how well the horse-drawn mowing machine that he ordered for Hoot would work.
“The man I bought it from said that if you have a good team of horses, twenty acres a day can get it done.”
“Is it hard to learn how to fix it?”
“No. If you hire a boy knows a little about them, he could run it.”
“Could you find us one?”
“The war just being over, those mowers are scarce. But I will write my dealer in San Antonio on how to contact you. He also sells dump rakes.”
“Thank you. Sister and I don’t know how you have done all this. Assembling three herds, and you find the nicest people—like Chaw, is it?—to do everything that is needed.”
“Yes, ma’am. He’s a top-notch drover.”
“Is that his real name?”
“I bet it is. My horse wrangler’s name is Holy Wars.”
“Oh, my, people name their children anything I guess nowadays.”
“Katy and I are learning that signing up hands for the drive.”
“Thank you so much for coming by and visiting with us. We appreciate you taking our cattle to Kansas.”
“Well, ladies, we will be in the same business next year, so I hope you are satisfied with our work this year and allow us to work the same next year.”
“Don’t worry, we are, and yes, we will continue next year. Katy, how have you been feeling, dear?”
“Full. He is getting big and he kicks a lot.”
“You don’t know how lucky you are to have him,” one of the sisters said.
“Oh yes, I do, and I thank God every day for Harp finding me.”
“Dear, were you living at home when he found you?”
Katy shook her head. “I was orphaned at five and raised by an older couple. They died and I was on my own, but Harp found me and here I am expecting my first in a few months.”
“Oh, what a nice story. Good luck with the baby. Bring him by to show him to us one day when you are well.”
“I can do that this summer.”
“We will look forward to your visit.”
In the buckboard and heading home, he hugged her close. “Thanks for the short life story.”
“They didn’t need the rest of it. That happened and is done. I still say some day you will be their heir.”
“Whatever. They make good customers now.”
“Oh my, yes. I will be praying a lot for your safe return.”
It wouldn’t hurt to pray for their ranch, too.