Range War Along the Pecos, by John Theron Crow

Range War Along the Pecos

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

 
As the soldiers reigned up to the hotel, Logan said, "Howdy Lieutenant. What brings you to town.?"
"Howdy yourself, Logan. You just might be the man that could help us. We're hunting a young gunslinger named Johnny Lancer. We'd been told that his sister works here occasionally. Do you by any chance know where we might find her?"
"I might, if you would tell me what you want with Johnny Lancer." Logan replied, guardedly. Lieutenant McCormick explained. After he'd finished, Logan shook his head, thinking to himself, "Damn, when it rains, it really pours." He said aloud, "Look, Lieutenant, Charlene is a close personal friend of mine. Let me go talk to her and break the news. I'd rather it came from me than you. After that, I'll send her over to meet you in the lobby of the hotel. That suit you?"
"Alright Logan, but no tricks. If I find that you've been hiding him, you'll answer to the United Sates Army." McCormick warned.
Logan nodded, walked over to Ma Cunningham's Cafe and went in. Charlene was nowhere to be seen although Emily was busy wiping down tables in preparation for the supper crowd. "Howdy Miss Cunningham. You by any chance seen Charley around." he asked.
"Hello, Jesse. No, you missed her by about an hour. She left town saying she had to get away and sort out her thoughts for a while." Emily replied.
"She go to the ranchhouse?"
"No, she said she wanted to sleep under the stars for a day or two. I declare Jesse. One of these days that girl's going to get herself hurt, sure enough. The open range is definitely no place for a young girl alone. I tell you that girl's behavior is scandalous sometimes." Emily said.
"Come on Miss Cunningham. What are you worried about, her safety, or her reputation?" Logan asked teasingly.
"Why both, Jesse, both of course!" she replied blushing.
"Well, I wouldn't worry about her safety. She can take pretty good care of herself. If she comes back, tell her I'd like to see her. Nothing pressing though."
Jesse had elected not to say anything to Emily regarding Johnny, not wishing to upset her. However, he was glad that Charlene was not on hand to be interrogated by Lieutenant McCormick. Nevertheless, it did worry him that she'd be out in the countryside when He'd just recently been informed that the Esperanza gang was in the area. There wasn't much he could do about that at the moment. There were a number of places Charley might have gone. Most of them were well within the boundaries of the Murdoch ranch though, and as such, were at least reasonably safe--unless the Esperanza's were out to raid Murdoch. Jesse doubted that, however. He left the cafe and went over to the hotel to give McCormick the bad news and to talk to Moose.
Directly behind and overlooking the buildings fronting Main Street on the southwestern side, stood the rocky hill overlooking the town of Olsen's Falls. Near the top, in a jumble of rocks was the source of the spring that had been the original reason for the town's existence. Concealed in the rocks, was a man with shoulder-length blonde hair, wearing a black Stetson and black shirt, observing the town through a telescope. The telescope was the only possession he owned that had once belonged to his father, who had won it from a pirate in Corpus Christie in a poker game. That telescope had saved his hide many times in the past.
The man had observed Charlene riding off earlier, and intended to follow later if possible, after determining the next move on the part of the soldiers he'd been following with his spyglass. Much to his satisfaction, the soldiers had led their horses to the livery stable and had headed for a hotel. That meant that they would remain in town at least for the night. The man smiled with satisfaction. The soldiers must have known about her. What they didn't know was that he'd been trailing them rather than the reverse. "If they'd had any brains a'tall, they'd have had an Indian tracker with them." he silently mused to himself. He was glad to see though, that Logan was still alive and apparently in good health. He hadn't seen him in years, in fact, since they had been about twelve or thirteen. But he recognized his features through the telescope and knew without a doubt, that it was Jesse Logan, albeit aged some six years or better.
Johnny Lancer had spent many years eluding posses and the soldiers below were nothing more than a joke. The fact that Charlene had left earlier and the soldiers had stayed, only demonstrated to him their stupidity and made things easier. He had been determined to see his sister, and now, it should be fairly easy. If they'd had any brains, they would have trailed Charlene. What the hell, he thought, maybe they intended to talk to Murdoch, or just assumed Lancer would show up in town in a day or so. He reflected on the events that had occurred the previous night.
About twenty-some odd hours earlier, not long before the time that Peaceful Jones and the MT gunmen would begin playing poker with the BAR-O hands in Olsen's Falls, Johnny Logan had entered the Royal saloon in the town of Camp Stockton or Fort Stockton (then referred to by both names, now Fort Stockton). It had become a fort in 1859, and a small town had grown around the fort, taking advantage of the protection it had offered. The Royal, was the only saloon in town, and catered mostly to soldiers and cowhands. Lancer had ridden into town, gotten a bath, shave and a meal, then headed for the saloon to do some gambling.
He ended up sitting in on a game between himself, a professional gambler, a soldier, and two cowboys. Lancer was himself an expert gambler, and it soon became apparent that almost every hand was being won by either the professional gambler, or the soldier, with an occasional win being thrown to one of the cowboys or himself to make things appear honest. It was obvious that the gambler was stacking the deck and holding out cards, some of which he'd expertly pass on to the soldier in a way that all but the most trained eye would miss.
Lancer had sighed and then asked the cowboys, "Boys, how much money have ya lost?"
One said, "'Bout thirty bucks, durn near my whole month's wage."
The other replied, "Bout twenty-five. Why?"
"'Pears to me that this card sharp here and the soldier boy got themselves a little scam going here. You'll notice that one or t'other's been winnin' almost ever' time."
The gambler's eyes narrowed a bit, but he sat still for the moment. "You callin' me a cheat?" growled the soldier.
"Why of course not!" Johnny said, smiling innocently, "I'm calling ya a low down blue-bellied piece of shit, and your pardner there a son of a whore." Lancer continued, still smiling pleasantly.
At that moment, three other soldiers who had been sitting at the table next to them, ostensibly simply drinking and talking, got up and walked over to the table to back their friend. "Look here Mr. Johnny Reb. the gambler began, if you apologize to the soldier here, we might let you walk out of here alive."
"Oh, I'll walk outta here alright, with the whole pot, minus these cowboy's losses of course. In fact, I'll even apologize if ya let me check yer sleeves right quick and I don't find any cards there."
"You'll do no such thing boy, and you've slandered my name for the last time." said the gambler.
Lancer slowly got to his feet, keeping his eye on the gambler the whole time. He was certain that the gambler not only had a card or two up his sleeve, but a Derringer as well.
"I'm gonna give ya two choices. You can start whistlin' Dixie and raking that pot across the table into a bag which you will then give ta me, or ya can go for your guns. Lancer said, no longer smiling.
All of a sudden the gambler's wrist flicked and sure enough, a Derringer appeared in his hand--just as Lancer's first bullet tore through his skull splattering the man behind and to the side of him with blood and brain matter. Almost simultaneously, the Colt in Johnny's left hand sent a bullet through the heart of the gambler's soldier partner. Then both his guns were blazing, finishing off the other three soldiers who had made the mistake of trying to back up their friend. In little over a second, Johnny Lancer had fired six shots. Any one of them would have been fatal. He then placed his left pistol back into its holster, and covered the rest of the saloon's patrons with his right pistol. Next, he casually walked over to the fallen gambler and said, "Let's jest have a look-see inside yer sleeves, Mr. card sharp."
Lancer bent over and grasped his right wrist and said, "Hm, what have we here? A Derringer and a little spring loaded device that's supposed to send it into a fella's hand mighty quick like. I haven't seen any of these out west, but I saw a couple on a Mississippi river boat one time. Mighty fast rig. What do we have in the left sleeve? Wouldn't ya know! A pair of aces. My O my. But it sure takes away from a fella's faith in the goodness of his fellow man, don't it?" he asked, looking around at the other patrons and the two cowboys who'd been in the game. Just then, he heard footsteps on the boardwalk outside the batwing doors.
He quickly backed to the side of the doors, smiled and winked at the customers at the bar and put his index finger over his lips indicating that they should keep quiet. Just then, the marshal and deputy came through the door with their guns drawn. Almost instantly, Lancer brought both his Colts down on the backs of their heads sending them both sprawling to the floor unconscious.
"Alright folks. While these fine gents are a catchin' a nap here, Mr. Bartender there is goin' ta bring me a bottle of his best whiskey, and a bag."
Lancer motioned the bartender over to the table. He then said to the two cowboys, "You boys go over and count out what ya lost, no more, no less, and then back off a ways. As they were performing that task, he took the bottle of whiskey and uncorked it in his teeth, then took a long swallow.
"Not bad, Mr. Bartender. My compliments. You boys got what you lost?"
"Yeah." one of them said.
"Good. Now you boys ought to thank me fer happenin' along. You'd have lost yer whole durn wages were it not fer me." Lancer said cheerfully. "Now, Mr. bartender, you just rake the rest of the pot into that bag, along with whatever else that tinhorn has in his pockets."
The bartender seemed reluctant at first, but when Johnny cocked a revolver and leveled it at him, his reluctance rapidly vanished as he began racking the money into a bag. "See boys," Lancer said to the cowboys, "the way I see it, I spotted 'em cheatin', and I risked my ass shootin' it out with 'em. So it seems ta me, that I get the rest of the money. Make sense to you hombres?" Both men nodded and then stared at the floor.
"Good! It's nice that we're all in agreement here. I'd sure hate ta leave knowin' there was any hard feelin's among us."
While still covering the crowd with his gun, he looked around and saw a pretty dance-hall girl he'd had his eye on earlier. "What's yer name honey?" he asked.
"Janet, Janet Douglass." she stammered somewhat sheepishly.
"Well miss `Janet, JanetDouglass, I shore had plans fer ya later on, but I'm afraid I'll have to miss the pleasure of yer company tonight." She smiled prettily at him and he winked at her. By that time, the barkeep had finished his tasked and was about to bring the bag to Johnny. "Nope, you go back to the bar." Lancer ordered. Then looking back at Janet Douglass, he motioned to her and said, Janet, you don't mind I call ya Janet do ya? Would you be so kind as ta bring me that bag of money?" he asked politely, but with a mischievous grin on his face.
"Why certainly, Mr. Lancer, is it?" she replied, startling Lancer for just a second.
"Well I'll be dipped, she knows my name!" he said.
"I've seen your face on several wanted posters before Johnny Lancer." she said as she handed him the bag of money.
"Looks like I'm downright popular these days. I'd of thought they'd have taken them old posters down, now that I've been pardoned by the governor. Janet honey, what's the goin' rate fer a night of yer company?"
"Five dollars." she said. He then said, "Reach in the bag and take out twice that amount, cause I know yer worth twice that much. he said smiling."
She did, and he then addressed the rest of the crowd saying, "Now you folks just lie down and close yer eyes til I tell ya you can look."
Some of them did so immediately but a few others remained standing, looking at each other stupidly. "DOWN, NOW!" he shouted. They hit the floor instantly. Then, more quietly this time, he said, "Now no peeking." He then grabbed Janet Douglass and kissed her squarely on the lips for a full half minute.
"Damn! I shore hate to leave now that I know what I'll be missing Miss Janet, Janet Douglass. But, you know how it is. These folks look like they're gettin' downright tired of my company. It's a cryin' shame, cause I was jest beginnin' ta like this town."
With that, he grabbed the bag and the bottle of whiskey and casually strolled out the batwing doors into the night. He calmly loaded his horse then mounted. He next made sure that someone noticed which direction he was travelling, then left. When out of sight of the town, he doubled back, and waited to see what direction the pursuit would take.
About fifteen minutes later, a group of soldiers left town heading west. He was only slightly surprised. He had taken the road east, and had hoped they would continue that direction. But then, his name had been mentioned, and no doubt, some of them knew that his sister lived at the Murdoch ranch, which was where he figured the troops to be heading.
Lancer had followed them keeping a discrete distance, and sure enough, they eventually arrived at the Murdoch ranchhouse. Johnny noticed that it had not changed much since his last visit when he was much younger. He also had noticed that the soldiers had been halted well before they could reach the ranchhouse yard by a cowboy with a rifle. They spoke for a moment and then the soldiers proceeded into the yard. He waited until the soldiers reigned up to the front porch.
There had been four cowhands that he'd noticed stationed around the ranch in various positions. Lancer had little trouble evading them as he circled around back and dismounted. "Some sentries!" he thought. As far as he could tell, none of them had seen him. What he didn't know at the time was that a tall figure was concealed in the shadows, and had a huge rifle trained in his direction.

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