CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE SALOON WAS lit by a few lanterns and smelled of cigar smoke and spittoons badly in need of emptying. There were only a few customers in the aftermath of the ruckus out front, and it was quiet. A few curious heads briefly turned as Darby entered.
Baggett motioned toward a table near the only window in the place. A half-full whiskey bottle sat in front of a young man, blond with rugged good looks, who signaled for the bartender to bring another glass.
“This is my boy, Dell.”
“Name’s Will Darby.”
“Pull up a chair, Will Darby,” Dell said, “and be assured I have no interest in getting on your bad side . . . not after what I witnessed a while ago.”
The elder Baggett laughed at his son’s joke. “He’s not only good-looking, but he’s right smart.”
They drank quietly for a time, the hosts sipping while Will twice emptied his shot glass in a single starved swallow.
Ben broke the silence. “What brings you to these parts?”
Will was usually not one to speak freely to people he didn’t know, but the whiskey had loosened his tongue. He said he’d been discharged from the army following General Lee’s surrender and was headed west in search of work when he was hijacked and near killed. He talked of meeting the Bradleys and learning of their misfortune. “They’re fine folks,” he said. “He’s a man of the cloth, and his wife’s gonna be a teacher once they get to Albuquerque. Same outlaws who attacked me in the middle of the night earlier robbed them of every cent they had and nearly destroyed their wagon. It’s down at the blacksmith’s now, where he’s doing needed repairs before they can continue on.”
He served himself another drink, downing it quickly. “To be frank, I’m worried about them making it. They had to barter away one of their mules just to get the work done.”
Suddenly aware that he was dominating the conversation, he changed the subject. “What is it you folks do?”
“We’re in the cattle business,” the elder Baggett said. “We’re here to recruit additional hands for our operation.” He glanced over his shoulder at three men seated at the bar. “Those boys just hired on.”
“You looking for more?”
“You interested?”
“Might be.”
“The work ain’t easy, but there’ll be fair pay, a roof over your head, and something on the table come suppertime,” Baggett said. “We’ll be staying through the night, so you sleep on it and let us know your thinking in the morning.”
BAGGETT MADE NO mention of his past.
He’d come to Texas from back East, determined to make his fortune as a cattle and cotton broker. He’d brought his teenage son along but left his wife behind. Their marriage had been a loveless one from the start, entered into only because of his wife’s family wealth and business connections. He’d taken much of her money with him when he headed to Texas.
Settling in Brownsville, he found success elusive. Young Dell Baggett earned nearly as much as his father, loading Mexican cotton onto European-bound ships. Soon the grubstake he and his father had arrived with was all but gone, the elder Baggett’s mood turning angrier and more violent with each new disappointment.
Things boiled into disaster one rainy spring morning when, badly hungover, Baggett shot a local cattleman after an argument. By the time the local marshal was called to the scene, Baggett had collected his son from the docks and the two were on their way to Mexico.
Neither Ben Baggett nor his boy would ever do another honest day’s work.
For a time they joined a bandito gang that trafficked peyote, guns, and livestock stolen from struggling farmers and ranchers on the Texas side of the border. Their methods were often ill planned and reckless, but profits were significant until they were captured or killed by federales. For Baggett, it was a learning experience. He soon came to realize that for someone capable of careful planning and the ability to assemble a crew of reliable men, the life of a thief could be highly profitable.
The first part of his plan was to put the dirty, dusty Mexican border towns far behind him.
He selected a handful of the smartest banditos to accompany him, promising that his planned enterprise offered far greater rewards. They, like him, were men on the run and better off if they stayed on the move.
As they advanced northward, through small settlements and past slow-moving wagon trains, Baggett continued to recruit. Disenchanted settlers, weary buffalo hunters, and men wanted for a variety of misdeeds were receptive to his promise of outlaw wealth. Along the way, he made it his business to have conversations with men ramrodding cattle drives, putting his plan into motion.
When Dell would ask about their ultimate destination, his father’s reply was always the same: “I’ll know when we get there.”
DARBY LEFT THE saloon early in the evening, feeling the welcome warmth of the whiskey in his stomach. There was a smile on his face. Maybe his sorry luck was about to change.
When he returned to the Bradleys, the old man had left. “He insisted he was feeling fine, thanked me kindly, and was on his way,” Mrs. Bradley said. “He was limping quite badly, I might add.”
“I appreciate you caring for him,” Darby said. “I’m feeling a bit wore out, so I’m gonna go bed down over behind the corral. Tell the young’uns I’ll see them in the morning.” For reasons he didn’t completely understand, he wanted to slip away before the children would know that he’d been drinking.
“I’ll do what I can to rustle up something for breakfast,” Mrs. Bradley said.
WILL WAS FEELING rested and surprisingly clearheaded the following morning when he checked on the progress being made on the wagon. Father Bradley met him in front of the blacksmith’s tent, his spirits high. He was holding a Bible.
“Angels come visiting us last night,” he said. “That man you met yesterday—Mr. Baggett—he came by and made arrangements with the blacksmith for payment of repairs to our wagon and the return of our mule. Next thing, he approached my wife and placed a twenty-dollar gold piece in the palm of her hand. Never said so much as a word. What a fine Christian man he is. Certain proof that God does work in the most mysterious of ways.”
Will went in search of Baggett and found him and his son saddling their horses. “I heard about your act of kindness,” he said.
Baggett didn’t respond.
“And,” Darby continued, “I’d like to accept your offer of that job if it still stands.”
Baggett adjusted his hat and nodded. “We’ll ride out soon as we partake of Mrs. Bradley’s breakfast. She just informed me that she purchased fresh eggs and sweetbreads down at the mercantile.”
AFTER THEY ATE, Will moved to sit next to Father Bradley. “Seems you folks ain’t the only ones to experience recent good fortune,” he said. “I’ve been offered a job, which I’ve accepted. So I’ll be saying goodbye and wishing you good luck on the remainder of your journey. I put your shotgun in the wagon.”
“God be with you,” Bradley said. “It’s been a pleasure knowing you, and I’ll keep you in my prayers.”
Darby walked over to the children and gave them each a hug. “Miss Darla, you keep tending to your reading,” he said. He tipped his hat to Mrs. Bradley.
There was a momentary silence, as if there was something left unsaid, before he turned away and mounted his horse.
The children were still shouting their goodbyes as he joined Baggett and his men, headed north.
When the riders reached the edge of town, they saw the old man Darby had rescued standing by the road. As they passed, he removed his sweat-stained hat and waved.
The West Texas terrain was bleak, arid flatland for as far as the eye could see. Once the homeland of bands of Comanches who hunted buffalo and waged war against white man trespassers, it was now the location of a few small, isolated ranches and settlements and a route for fortune seekers on their way to the silver mines of New Mexico.
Baggett and his son rode lead with Darby and the three others trailing. Through much of the day, they kept a steady pace with little conversation. Finally, Baggett turned in his saddle and said, “A short way from here is a creek with a stand of trees on its bank. We’ll stop there to allow the horses to drink and get us some shade.”
Will wondered about their ultimate destination, but didn’t ask. Neither did his fellow newcomers.
They had not anticipated the scene that greeted them as they arrived at the creek. Four men sat beneath the shade of a tree, their horses tethered nearby. The burned-out campfire indicated they had been there a while. Along the water’s edge was what appeared to have been a makeshift pen.
“Come and sit a spell,” one of the men called out. “We got good news.”
He went straight to Ben Baggett and handed him a saddlebag. “Thirty head,” he said, “five of ’em calves. All fat and in good health. They brought you top dollar.”
Saying nothing, Ben opened the bag and began counting the money.
“Wasn’t much of a place,” another said. “Little old dog-run cabin in the middle of nowhere. No fences. They didn’t even know we’d come. We was on our way and long gone before they even woke up. Last night, we drove the cattle to meet up with the driver who was expecting them, collected our pay without problem, and returned here to wait for you to arrive.”
He turned to Dell Baggett, who was still sitting astride his mount. “You bring anything to drink?”
Darby listened to the exchange, then watched as Ben counted out bills and handed them out to the four men. He wondered what he’d gotten himself into.
“There’ll be no drinking until our work’s done,” the elder Baggett said. “I assume we’ve got another plan.”
Another of the men stepped forward. “I rode about a day and a half to the east,” he said, “and found two more places. They’re little, but they’ve got a right smart of cows grazing. I’d guess twenty or thirty head at each. And I didn’t see no neighbors anywhere near. Quieter than a Baptist graveyard.”
He’d drawn a crude map, which he pulled from his pocket.
The man who had been in charge of the saddlebag said, “The folks we did business with last night said they’re interested in buying more as soon as we can provide them.”
Baggett seemed pleased. “Let’s get some rest. Then you boys can head out tomorrow. I’ll be going on home, leaving Dell and these new boys to give you a hand.”
A campfire took the night chill from the air, its flames playing against the faces of the new recruits, who sat listening as Dell Baggett outlined the operation his father had devised.
Passing the map around, he said, “You’ll ride out in two groups, four in each. Two of you will be accompanying the men with experience at this. They’ll do any explaining necessary along the way. You’ll be pleased to find it ain’t a complicated undertaking. Once you’ve collected the cattle, you’ll herd them to a place that’s already been scouted out and wait for the buyers to arrive.”
The newcomers were silent, contemplating the activity they’d hired on for.
“Anybody got questions?” Dell asked.
Will spoke up. “I got no weapon since mine was stolen.”
“It’s not likely you’ll be needing one,” Dell said.
THE LEADER OF Darby’s group was a one-eyed man called Bootsy, who enjoyed talking, mostly about himself. He’d come to Texas from Kansas to avoid spending time in jail or dangling from the end of a rope for killing a man he hit over the head with a rifle barrel. The man had “full well deserved it,” he said.
“In case you’re wondering about our plan, it’s a simple one that’s worked time and time again since I hired on with Mr. Baggett. We’ll schedule our arrival at some time around dusk. We’ll get close enough to the ranch only to learn the lay of the land and where the cattle graze. That done, we’ll locate ourselves a resting spot and wait until around midnight to carry out our business. I’ve already been told there’s no fencing, so that’ll not pose us a problem.
“If you’ve not herded cattle before, be assured it ain’t difficult. They’re not very smart animals and will head in whichever direction you point them. I’ve got makings for torches we can use to light our way to the holding pen once we’ve distanced ourselves from the pasture.”
He scanned the anxious faces of the two newcomers and laughed. “You boys got no need for worry,” he said. “This’ll be the easiest payday you’ve ever earned. Unless, of course, you’ve got bank robbing in your history.”
Will found himself wondering how many of those who had hired on to Baggett’s “cattle business” were lawbreakers. And how he’d feel once he joined their ranks. In an effort to dismiss such thoughts, he reminded himself of his empty pockets and the absence of any other plan for his future.
“An easy payday’s waiting,” he whispered to himself.
“I got one other rule,” Bootsy said. “It’s one I ain’t never shared with the boss or his boy and needs to be kept secret among us. Most of these folks keep their milk cow near the barn but occasionally they’re allowed to graze with the herd. Wherever they are, they’re to be left behind. Stealing a family’s milk cow ain’t in my makeup. Nor should it be in yours.”
JUST AS BOOTSY had promised, it was easy. The cattle were docile and willing. Calves dutifully trailed along behind their mothers. The theft was carried out in a matter of minutes. No lanterns were lit in the ranch house. No booming sound of a warning shotgun blast had broken the night’s stillness.
The unsuspecting family, whoever they were, had been robbed of their hard-earned livelihood without anyone even waking.
Twenty-four hours later, the job was done. Wranglers from a herd en route to Kansas City had come and driven the stolen cattle away. The money bag hung on Bootsy’s saddle horn.
“Everybody did good,” Bootsy said. “Time now we head to the canyon.”