Bloodshed of the Mountain Man Read online

  “Where can I find Hannibal?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then tell me, Mr. Thigpen, what possible use are you to me, if you can’t tell me where to find Hannibal?”

  “I . . . I don’t know where he is, but—”

  “But what?”

  “I think something is going to happen in Brimstone soon.”

  “What’s going to happen there?”

  “I don’t know. But Cardigan wanted me to give him information about Brimstone.”

  “What sort of information was he looking for?”

  “He wanted to know the population of the town and how many lawmen were there.”

  “Did you give him the information he asked for?”

  “Yes, sir, I did.”

  “Why did he want the information?”

  “He didn’t actually say why he wanted it. But I figure the Ghost Riders have some plan in mind for it.”

  “Thanks. If you get any other information you think I can use, give it to Officer Givens. And Givens, if you don’t get any cooperation from him, put him in jail.”

  “Yes, sir, I will be glad to do that,” Givens replied with a broad smile.

  Smoke walked back over to the bar and, without being asked, the bartender put a new mug of beer before him. Smoke put a nickel on the bar, but it was pushed back.

  “No, sir, this one is on the house,” the bartender said with a broad smile.

  Ten Strike

  A knock on the door caused Hannibal to look up. “Yes?” he called.

  “Hannibal, I’ve got the new men out here,” Rexwell called.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Hannibal stepped outside to meet his new recruits. “Tell me about them,” he said as the eight men stood in front of him.

  “These two are twins, Amos and Amon Scraggs,” Rexwell said. “They robbed a bank in Suttle, killed the bank guard there. When I caught up with them they were in jail, waitin’ to be hung.”

  “How were you caught?” Hannibal asked.

  “We was run down by a posse. They was just too damn many of them,” Amos said.

  “This is Snake Eye Mason,” Rexwell said, and looking at him, Hannibal could see how he got his name. A scar ran through one of his eyes, causing it to be in a perpetual squint.

  “How’d you get that scar?” Hannibal asked.

  “I got into a knife fight,” Snake Eye said. “He left me with this permanent scar.” He ran his finger across the scar; then he laughed. “I left him permanently dead.”

  Bart Jennings had always operated alone, and though he had never been caught, neither had he ever made a big score with any of his jobs.

  Emerson Case had been teamed up with another man, and they had specialized in robbing stores, generally those that were remotely located. But the man he had worked with was killed in their last robbery, and Case was looking for another partner when he was approached by Rexwell.

  Jeb Jones was a card cheat who had killed a man who caught him in the act. He was on the run when Rexwell offered him a way out. Hock Granger had escaped from Yuma Prison, killing a guard in the process.

  Vince Oceans was the last of the new recruits. Oceans would kill anyone, if someone paid him enough.

  “I’m told you are good with a gun,” Hannibal said.

  “I’m not just good, I’m the best,” Oceans replied.

  “You are the best, huh? That’s quite a claim.”

  “It ain’t a claim, it’s a fact,” Oceans said. “There ain’t a man alive that can beat me.”

  “Have you ever heard of a man named Smoke Jensen?” Hannibal asked.

  “Smoke Jensen? Hell yes, who hasn’t heard of him?”

  “Do you think you are better than he is?”

  “I know that I’m better than he is.”

  “But you have never gone up against him, have you?”

  “No. And you’ll pardon me for sayin’ this, but that is a dumb question.”

  “Mr. Oceans, if I decide to let you ride with the Ghost Riders, you will treat me with absolute respect, and that means I will not allow you to be insubordinate. But, your response has aroused my curiosity. I asked you if you had ever gone up against Smoke Jensen, and you said that was a dumb question. Why do you say that?”

  “It’s a dumb question because if I had gone up against him, he would be dead now.”

  “I see.”

  Hannibal addressed the new men.

  “Men, you are about to embark upon a new adventure, an adventure that will make you more money than you have ever even dreamed possible.”

  The men looked at each other as wide grins spread across their faces.

  “But, in order for this to happen, you must adhere to a strict code of obedience.”

  “Obedience?” Snake Eye asked.

  “Yes, obedience to the men who are appointed over you.”

  “Who would those men be?” Oceans asked.

  “I am your commanding officer, and Rexwell is my executive officer.”

  “Hold it,” Oceans said. “What is this officer thing? I was in the army for a while, and I didn’t like it. And I especially didn’t like the officers.”

  “How much did you make while you were in the army?” Hannibal asked.

  “I made twelve dollars a month.”

  “With me, there will be no month in which you make less than two hundred dollars,” Hannibal said.

  Oceans smiled. “Two hundred dollars a month? I like that.”

  “Does that mean you will stay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yes, sir,” Hannibal demanded.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Hold up your right hand.”

  The men did as they were directed.

  “Repeat after me: I solemnly swear that I will obey all orders given me by Hannibal, Rexwell, or whomever they may appoint over me.”

  The men repeated the oath, and Hannibal nodded. “You are now duly installed as a Ghost Rider.”

  When the men were dismissed, Hannibal asked that Smith, Collins, and Oceans be brought to him. When they came to the house he was using for his headquarters, he gave them their orders.

  “I want you men to go to Brimstone. Spend several days there blending in. Do nothing to call attention to yourselves, but find out as much about the town as you can.”

  “What for?” Collins asked.

  “Because in two weeks, I plan to make Brimstone our next target. And in the words of Sun Tzu, “if you know the enemy as you know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.”

  “Hey, Collins,” Oceans asked as he, Collins, and Smith rode toward Brimstone. “Who do you think the Sunsue fella is, Hannibal is always talkin’ about?”

  “Beats the hell out of me,” Collins replied. “But he must have made some kind of impression on Hannibal.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Sugarloaf Ranch

  When Sally stepped into Cal’s room, she saw that he was twitching around on the bed and Julia was sitting on the side of the bed, holding his hand.

  “Since you didn’t come to breakfast, I brought breakfast to you,” Sally said, holding a small plate with a sausage biscuit.

  “Oh, thank you,” Julia said reaching for it.

  “And I’ll join you. How is our patient?”

  “He was sleeping peacefully when I first came in, but he’s been restless for the last few minutes. I think he’s having another one of his dreams. He told me the other day that he could see his mother, as she was when he was a child. And I got the idea that was an unpleasant experience for him.”

  “Cal has never spoken much of his past, and I think the reason he hasn’t is because I gather it was rather difficult for him,” Sally said. “Neither Smoke nor I have ever asked him about it because we’ve always figured that if he wanted us to know, he would tell us. Maybe his dreams are acting as a catharsis for his old memories.”

  “Catharsis?”

  “It’s just another way of
saying that you are getting something off your chest,” Sally said.

  “You are a very smart woman,” Julia said.

  “Coming from you, I take that as a huge compliment,” Sally said with a smile. “Dr. Urban said that if it hadn’t been for you, Cal would have died before Smoke got him home. You are a very good nurse.”

  “The only thing I know, I learned from my father,” Julia said.

  “Yes, you said he was a doctor. Did you ever think about going to school to become a doctor?” Sally asked.

  “No, I’m not that smart.” Julia smiled. “But I do know how to set a table for a group of officers’ wives.”

  “Officers’ wives?” Sally asked, surprised by the comment.

  “I’m . . . that is, I was once married to an army officer.”

  The expression on Julia’s face as she mentioned it signaled to Sally that she really didn’t want to talk about it. But she was saved from exploring the subject any further when Cal spoke from his sleep.

  “I’m starvin’ to death. I’ve got to do something,” Cal said.

  “Bless his heart, even in his sleep he complains about only having bouillon,” Sally said.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Julia said.

  “You don’t?”

  “No. I think he’s reliving another part of his past.” Julia leaned over to take Cal’s hand in hers.

  “You may be right,” Sally said, impressed with Julia’s empathy with Cal.

  Cal’s experiences

  Three months after Cal left Eagle Tail, he found himself in the town of Big Rock, Colorado. He tried to get a job at the stable, only to learn that there was nothing available. He tried at Guthrie’s Lumber Yard, nothing there, and nothing at the blacksmith shop either. He hadn’t eaten in two days and he had to do something. He was starving. That was when he saw a pretty woman coming out of the dress shop.

  He crossed the street then walked past the Dunn Hotel and the Bank of Big Rock, keeping his hand on the gun that he had stuck down in his waistband. It was the same gun he had used to shoot Teague. Cal stepped up to the woman as she climbed into the buckboard.

  “Ma’am, I hate to do this, but I’m goin’ to have to ask you for all your money,” he said.

  “All of it?” she replied.

  “Well, maybe not all of it. I just need enough so’s I can get out of town.”

  “And if I don’t give you all my money, are you going to shoot me?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’ve come too far now. I reckon I would have to.”

  “What are you going to shoot me with?”

  “As you can see, I’ve got a gun in my waist,” Cal said.

  Then, in a draw that was so fast that Cal almost couldn’t believe he had seen it, the pretty woman pulled a pistol from her holster.

  “And as you can see, I’ve got a gun in my hand,” she said.

  Cal was quiet for a moment. “Yes, ma’am, I reckon you do,” he said.

  “Use your thumb and your forefinger to take the gun from your waistband and hand it to me,” she said.

  Cal did as he was instructed.

  “You goin’ to take me to jail?” Cal asked.

  “Do you think that’s where you belong?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I expect that is where I belong. At least I’d get somethin’ to eat there.”

  “How old are you?”

  “I’m twenty-one.”

  “Don’t lie to me, boy. How old are you?”

  “I’m sixteen.”

  “When is the last time you had a meal?”

  “I had me a biscuit ’n a piece of bacon day before yesterday.”

  “You mean to tell me that you haven’t eaten for two days?”

  “Yes, ma’am, well, sometimes I’ll go two or three days without eatin’. I’m pretty much gettin’ used to it now.”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Well, I mean, I got no choice in it, so I may as well get used to it.”

  “What is your name?”

  “It’s Cal, ma’am. Cal Wood.”

  “My name is Sally Jensen.” Sally put her gun away, and scooted over on the seat. “Climb up here beside me, Cal. I’m going to take you home and give you a meal.”

  “Ma’am, you don’t have to do that.”

  “I told you my name and it isn’t ma’am.”

  “Miz Sally. You don’t have to feed me.”

  Sally laughed. “You were willing to take money from me at gunpoint, but now you aren’t willing to take food from me?”

  “Yes, ma’am, now that you mention it, I reckon that is some foolish, ain’t it?”

  “Isn’t it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “No, you said ain’t it, I corrected you. Ain’t is not a word I will permit you to use. Now, are you going to come home with me and let me feed you, or not?”

  “Yes, ma’am. If you don’t mind, I will let you feed me. And I’ll be most grateful for it. And I’ll be glad to work for it.”

  Sally tried to carry on a conversation with Cal during the time it took to go from town to the ranch, but, though he replied in general terms, he told her nothing about himself. When they turned under an arched sign, with the name SUGARLOAF in wrought-iron letters, Cal let out a low whistle.

  “Lord a’mighty, Miz Sally. This here is where you live?”

  “This is where I live. This here is grammatically incorrect.”

  “Yes, ma’am, you seem to be big on grammar. I’ll try’n remember that.”

  As they drove up the long drive, Cal saw a big, two-story house, a large barn, a long bunkhouse, and a few other buildings. Every building was well kept and had a fresh paint job.

  “Lord have mercy, I ain’t never seen no place this big,” Cal said.

  “Cal, if you are going to stay here and live with us, you are going to have to learn proper English. I insist upon it.”

  “What do you mean, live here with you?”

  “We’ll discuss it later. For now, I want you to tell me what you said wrong.”

  “Ain’t,” Cal said with a smile. “I said ain’t again, ’n I’m sorry for that. I mean I haven’t never—”

  “Ever,” Sally corrected.

  “Ever seen a place this big.”

  “Thank you, that is much better.”

  “But, what did you mean when you said, live here with you?”

  “I told you, we’ll discuss it later.”

  As Cal was eating his third helping of chicken and dumplings, Sally came into the room with a big, powerful-looking man.

  “I hear you tried to hold up my wife,” he said.

  Cal dropped the fork. “Yes, sir,” he said in a small voice, as a piece of dumpling dribbled from his mouth.

  “Have you ever held up anyone before?”

  “I’m not going to lie to you, Mister, I’ve stolen a few things, but I ain’t never—” He looked at Sally, then corrected himself. “That is, I haven’t never held no one up before.”

  “You mean you haven’t ever held up anyone before.”

  “No ma’am, it’s like I said, I haven’t never done it before.”

  Sally sighed. “It’s going to take a while.”

  “Why did you try to hold up my wife?” Smoke asked.

  “I was hungry.”

  “If you were hungry, why didn’t you take a job?”

  “I was looking for a job, but I couldn’t find one.”

  “If I hire you, you aren’t going to try and steal anything from me, are you?”

  “If you hire me? You mean, after what I did, you would hire me?”

  “Yes, but I’ll keep you on only as long as you are a good worker and an honest hand.”

  “Mr. Jensen, I’ll work myself to the bone for you, and I swear to you, I’ll never take a thing that doesn’t belong to me again.”

  “Come on, I want you to meet Pearlie.”

  “Pearlie?”

  “You don’t like the name?”

  “I think Pearlie is a fin
e name,” Cal said. “Oh, ’n Miz Sally, I wouldn’t have really shot you.”

  “That’s good to know,” Sally replied. “But just so you understand what a dangerous game you were playing, Cal, I would have shot you.”

  “Miz Sally, I wouldn’t have really shot you,” Cal said aloud.

  Julia gasped. “Heavens! What kind of dream is he having now, that he says he wouldn’t have really shot you?”

  Sally chuckled. “I never really thought he would.”

  “You never thought he would?” Julia asked, now totally confused.

  “Sally! What’s for breakfast?” The shout came from outside the house before Sally could explain her odd comment.

  “Oh, Smoke is back!” Sally said happily, not responding to Julia’s implied question. She reached for the empty saucer that had held the sausage biscuit she had given Julia. “I’ll take that. I’d better get in there, I can tell you right now that Smoke Jensen is not going to be content with one biscuit and one piece of sausage.”

  Carrying the two empty plates, Sally hurried into the kitchen, meeting Smoke just as he stepped inside. He didn’t even give her the opportunity to set the plates down before he pulled her to him for a long, homecoming kiss.

  “Oh, my,” Sally teased. “If I’m going to get kissed like that, you’ll have to go away more often.”

  “Or, you could just welcome me home every now and then without me ever actually having been gone,” Smoke suggested.

  Sally laughed. “I suppose I could.”

  “How is Cal?”

  “I think he is still hallucinating, reliving things from his past. How was your trip to Denver?”

  “I got what I went for,” Smoke said. He didn’t mention the incident with Boots Cardigan. “Are you going to make me some breakfast, or what?”

  “Julia and I have already had our breakfast. You should have eaten in town. Now you’re going to have to wait until lunch.”

  “What?”

  Sally laughed. “I’m teasing, I’ll fix something for you. As a matter of fact, Julia thinks that Cal could start on solid food today as long as it isn’t too hard to digest. I think scrambled eggs would be all right for him.”