The Fogg ranchhouse was located next to a natural spring in a canyon in the midst of the Woods Hollow Mountains. It was a simple, unimposing rock structure that had been built back in the late 1830's by Captain Fogg's father, Gordon Fogg after the Texas Revolution. Although badly in need of repair in places, the men used it as their headquarters. Jesse had ridden into their camp at around six-thirty that morning. His pace had been somewhat leisurely since he had wished to spare his horse in case of an emergency where he would need it to be fresh. Some of the men were suspicious, but Tyler Dain was one of the first to observe him and invited him into camp for breakfast and coffee. Logan was famished so he gladly accepted the offer.Logan dismounted and tied his horse. Dain led him into the ranchhouse where Captain Fogg and his son Billy, were sitting at a table. Three dangerous looking gunmen were standing around them talking and drinking coffee. He noted that Captain Fogg's features bore the tell-tale marks of the battering he had received at the hands of Morgan Tanner, yet his expression was anything but that of a beaten man. Billy Fogg's right hand was heavily bandaged, some of the bones having been fractured by Peaceful Jones' boot-heel the previous night.
As they glanced up at Jesse, Billy Fogg whooped and said, "Well, if it ain't mister chained lightnin'. Where'd you catch him snoopin' around, Tyler?"
"He wasn't snooping, he just rode in ta camp. I offered him some breakfast."
"Aw hell, I thought maybe he come down here ta show me some fancy gun tricks er somethin'. Shoot, I reckon he's probably all hot air anyhow." Billy taunted.
"My reason fer being here ain't got nothing to do with the pup here." Logan said, addressing Captain Fogg while pointedly ignoring Billy.
"You'd best watch who yer callin' pup, mister." Billy said challengingly.
Captain Fogg, having just finished filling and lighting his pipe, said, "Billy, right now, this man's our guest. You either mind your manners, or go outside an' simmer down!"
The young gunman snorted in disgust then uttering obscenities under his breath, got up and went outside. Captain Fogg ordered the camp cook to bring Logan some breakfast which consisted of scrambled eggs, biscuits, bacon and coffee. Logan took a seat then asked, "Where's Nighthawk?"
"What's your business with him, if ya don't mind my asking?" Fogg asked.
Logan related to him the events surrounding Sheriff Orr's demise and the suspicions that the townsfolk had that it was Nighthawk's doing. He also expounded on why he didn't believe it was Nighthawk adding that he wasn't certain though. Either way he wanted to return a favor and warn Lance that a posse might be hunting him soon.
"Well, Nighthawk couldn't have done it. But I bet he'd of liked to. It ain't his style, even though I reckon he ain't goin' ta shed too many tears over that particular sheriff. Fact is, after we rode out, we met him back in camp here, and I sent him back toward Olsen's Falls ta keep an eye on the goings on around there and ta let us know if Tanner started ta head in this direction. I reckon he knows all about the murder and that folks are sayin' he did it by now. But he couldn't have gotten back to Olsen's Falls till around noon yesterday." Fogg said.
Just then, Logan's breakfast arrived and he dived into it like a starving man. "I see that the sheriff's death ain't hurt your appetite none." Chuckled one of the gunmen who was leaning against the mantle of the fireplace.
"Excuse me, Jesse, I forgot ta introduce you to the boys here!" Dain said. That one that just spoke to ya is Blackjack Slade. That ugly blonde over there is Slinger Hawk, and this one here is Tuck Lomax."
"Jesse Logan, pleased ta make your acquaintance." Logan said dryly through a mouthful of food, as he looked them over. He knew them by reputation only, but those reputations were enormous.
Slinger Hawk, was not actually ugly. He was about six feet in height and had an excellent build, narrow hips, flat stomach and broad but not heavy shoulders. He wore a goatee and moustache and his face strongly resembled later pictures of both Buffalo Bill Cody and General George Custer. His hair was blonde and worn a bit past the shoulders and somewhat wavy. Hawk was not his true name, but it was given him when younger by someone who had thought he resembled the bird of prey. Indeed, his face did give one the impression of a hawk, sharp eyebrows that sloped sightly upward and a long sharp nose gave him a hawkish appearance. The moniker "Slinger," was simply short for "gunslinger," which he epitomized to the hilt. No one knew his true identity and he wasn't volunteering it. He looked to be in his mid twenties and was widely known for his speed and accuracy with a six-gun.
He wore two of these, one on his right hip slung low and tied down, and another, a short barreled Navy thirty-six in a shoulder holster. His expression was one of almost perpetual amusement. His mouth always seemed to be halfway contorted in a wry grin. He wore a gray Confederate calvary hat and a worn Confederate army shirt. Although he had ridden with the Foggs during the Civil War, he only rode with them from time to time afterward. He liked to gamble and that often precipitated shootouts. In all of these, he'd never come close to losing and he had fought many expert gunmen, as had the other two gunmen Logan had just met.
Tuck Lomax had also served with Fogg in the War. He was about Logan's height, five-ten, lean and hard-muscled. He wore two Remington 44s tied low on each hip. Like Slinger Hawk, he often rode alone and rode with the Foggs only occasionally. He had been a deputy sheriff once, and a bounty hunter on many occasions. He had a quick temper and would fight at the drop of a hat. He had killed at least twenty-six men in gunfights and several more from horseback, including Indians. All of that was after the war. He was clean-shaven and wore his auburn hair cut short, just above the ears. His white hat was covered with trail dust. His movements were like those of a cat, graceful, but calm, like a man supremely confident in his abilities. His speed on the draw was legendary, and it was said by some, that there were none faster.
But then, if that was said about Lomax, it went double for the other one, Blackjack Slade. He was a large man, six-two, looking to be a bit over two-hundred pounds, but none of it excess weight. His hair was jet black although his skin was light colored despite the constant exposure to the sun. He wore about a day's growth of beard, and a moustache that curled down beside the corners of his mouth. He had the appearance of a harsh and dangerous man. He too, wore two guns, tied down at the hips, and was expert with either or both at the same time. He was regarded by many to be the most dangerous man in the west with the possible exceptions of Angel de Muerte and Jake Barlow.
Slade had not participated in the war, but had led his own gang of border desperadoes during part of it. Later, after disbanding his gang, he took to gambling, especially blackjack in which he excelled, hence, the nickname. He was hard and ruthless, and intolerant of any disrespect from any man. Just last year, he had killed four men in El Paso in a saloon gunfight. All of them had been known gunmen and had reputations as being fast. He had killed at least thirty men in his lifetime that were documented, yet, had never once been arrested. Most lawmen were afraid to try, and anyhow, it was said that every fight he ever had on the U.S. side of the border could be called fair. Thus, there was no reward posted on him anywhere in Texas. He had joined up with Fogg about two years after the war, riding with them when it suited his purpose, but obeying Fogg's commands and submitting to his rules whenever he did. That Fogg could hold such men together as a cohesive unit, spoke highly of his leadership capabilities indeed, thought Logan.
Logan quickly wolfed down his breakfast and said, "Much obliged for the grub. I guess I'd best get goin'."
"What's your hurry, hell, ya just got here?" Dain asked.
"I did what I started out ta do. I just wanted Nighthawk to know that someone's trying to frame him. I got other matters I need to take care of now." Logan said as he rose from the table.
"Captain Fogg looked him over as though he were weighing something in his mind then said, "If ya want to see Nighthawk, I 'spect he'll be along soon. Fact is, we were getting ready ta head out as well. Your welcome ta ride with us a spell, in fact, I reckon I'd rather you did at that."
"Ride where? Logan asked suspiciously.
"Well, me an the boys got ta make good on a promise we made to Tanner yesterday concerning the beeves he's runnin' on my land. We're goin' ta round 'em up and you might say, appropriate 'em, so to speak. I reckon the men guarding 'em won't take too kindly to the notion an will put up a fight rather than get off my property peaceable-like. I'd like an impartial witness to the fact that we didn't ambush 'em but ordered 'em off first, and that they refused and put up a fight. 'Course, we'll have a few of our own cattle mixed in with theirs so we can say they were rustling as well--at least, by the time any law might make its way down here."
Logan shook his head and grinned. "Sorry, Captain. I won't say it breaks my heart any that you're going after Tanner, but I'm no errand boy. We're not actually at war with Tanner yet, and until we are, I won't do anything to hurt Murdoch's reputation legally. You may have the right to run Tanner's men off, but that doesn't mean you can take his cattle. I'll see Nighthawk around later. I figure you folks'll tell 'em what I was going to anyhow, if he doesn't already know. Thanks, but no thanks."
"Well, that's dissappointin'. Alright then. You can ride out. Nighthawk will no doubt be beholdin' to ya, an so am I." Fogg said. With that, Logan started for the door and Dain followed. Jesse could feel the eyes of the other gunmen hot upon his back. He was fortunate at this point, that he was on good terms with both Dain and Nighthawk.
As Logan and Dain stepped out the door, Billy Fogg was preparing to enter and smirked at him challengingly as he walked by. "One a these days Logan, I'm gonna see just how fast you really are!" Billy said as he walked through the door.
"When you do kid, you ain't gonna like what you see." Logan retorted blandly.
When they reached Logan's horse, Dain said, "You'd better watch yourself Logan. Billy's gonna draw on you one of these days if you ain't careful, an he's mighty fast. I taught 'em. He's a prodigy with a gun."
"He's mighty fast with his mouth too. Pity you cain't teach 'em how ta reign in his tongue. I'd hate ta see you have to bury your prodigy pupil."
"I doubt you could beat 'em Logan, but if you did, I'd have to kill you. I'm right fond of the boy, mouth and all. Fact is, he's my nephew. I warned ya because I kinda like you too."
"Well then, I reckon you'd best talk some sense into 'em. I won't put up with 'em much longer, and it ain't me that's got the burr under his saddle."
At that point, Captain Fogg and the other gunmen came out of the house and Fogg commanded his men to mount up.
"Be seein' ya Tyler." Logan said.
"I reckon you will, Jesse." Dain said meaningfully, his dark eyes boring straight into Jesse's with ominous meaning. Logan felt that he could almost see the future there--and it wasn't bright.
Logan rode out slowly, and soon, Fogg and his men thundered by him amidst a chorus of piercing rebel yells. Logan decided to follow. True, he had other things to do, such as track down Jared Ransom. But then, Murdoch would likely wish to know the outcome of Fogg's little foray against Tanner's men. He had to admit, he was curious himself. Fogg's men were riding out of the canyon which would mean that they would have to circle around the mountains before coming to the place where Tanner's men were guarding the bulk of his beeves. Logan knew of a short-cut through the mountains that would lead to a spot overlooking the MT camp and which would afford him a good vantage point to view the confrontation without being seen. He turned around and spurred Tecumseh towards the trail.
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