Saga of Sam JonesChapter 5
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Saga Of Sam JonesChapter 1 free porn video
I sat back on my haunches from where I had been skinning the beef critter. I stared up at the old man who held a rifle and at the young woman beside him. She was armed with a colt .45 and she was handling it as if she knew how. It was pointed right at my gut.
I had been sliding a knife down the inside legs of the yearling calf and Jimbo, the man with me, was doing the same to the rear legs. We had already gutted the animal, saving the heart, liver and tongue, putting them in a flour sack.
"We call what you are doing 'slow elking, ' and it is about to get you some time up in territorial prison. Now back away and drop your side arms. You boy, tie the big one's hands and then stand back."
"I don't think so Pop. You put your hands up."
Ronnie had come in behind the two and had them covered. He had been supposedly scouting east when these two had come in from the west un-observed. "Bub, tie their hands and lead them around to the camp. Tie them to a tree and then we'll decide what's to be done. You git back here and finish the skinnin' while we get a campfire started. Christ, I'm so hungry I could eat that liver raw."
I was some worried. I had come up on Ronnie and Jimbo early this morning and now if Ronnie hadn't showed when he did, I might have been on my way to prison. That damned yearling had crossed right in front of us and we had been discussing how hungry we were. Jimbo shot him and we went to work planning on getting some meat into us. Well maybe we still would.
I wasn't much into knowing about women. Hell, no one would consider me much anyway. I was nineteen, lean as a whip, and trouble had been my companion all of my life. I hadn't had my hair chopped off for years and my face had never seen a razor. I was about as scrabble looking, no good, out of work cowpoke, as you ever did see. My clothes were patched and my shoes were turned over.
I had one piggin string for her hands and I took one off the old man's own hoss to tie up his hands. When I got close to the woman, I could see she wasn't more'n a girl. She had dark hair like me and her skin was a creamy tan from being out in the open. She did have women's equipment though, and she must have had a bath this morning. Getting beyond the horse smell that was there from riding in, I could smell lavender flowers.
I knew how awkward it would be to walk with your hands behind you over the rough going, so she got hers tied in front. The old man got his'n tied behind. We had about two hundred yards to camp and I hurried them right along. Jimbo and Ronnie had the critter skinned and quartered and tied on my plug when I returned. They gathered up the other weapons and hosses and I followed along behind leading my loaded pony.
Jimbo inspected my work of tying up our captives and said I had done well. They had the camp nestled against a ledge outcropping and must have been camped here a couple of days. Their outfits were much better than mine. The horses had blood and the clothes they wore were finer than most men around here wore. When I had arrived at the camp this morning, they had their saddlebags on the ground and hurriedly closed the flaps when they saw me coming.
So far through all of this, I hadn't said a word in front of the captives. Jimbo and Ronnie started telling lies about me to the captives. They said I had told them nothing when I had drifted up to their camp fire this morning, and I was just passin' through. The lies built up to make me out an outlaw who was always robbing people. Why, I might have even robbed a bank. Maybe they were talking about themselves, because I hadn't broke the law, ever. Well that is until an hour ago.
Ronnie turned out the old man's saddlebags and discovered a packet of coffee and a small slab of bacon. We ate well. We had bacon grease for the pan and fresh fried liver that had got cool enough to put in it. You can't eat liver when it is warm out of the critter as it will give you the squirts. Done, full, and satisfied, now it was what to do with the captives?
I didn't enter into the conversation, but I sure was listening. I knew I wasn't nothing to that girl/woman, but I didn't want her harmed, either. "How long has it been since you had a woman, Jimbo?"
"Been a long time. How long before they come looking for her and the old man, you think?"
"Probably riding this far out into the hills, not before tomorrow afternoon. We could use her tonight and be out of the country before then. Kill them both before we leave. What about the kid?" They were talking as if I was no-account. "He can have some after we git done and then we'll make sure he is the one to shoot them."
They turned and looked at me. They should have been paying attention to me before they started talking. I was sitting there and I had that old Navy converted .44 pointed right at them. "Nope." I stood and with my weapon on the two men I took out my knife and slashed the bonds of the woman and was heading for the old man. I stumbled. Christ, I had too many things going on at the same time to pay attention to everything. Jimbo had to try me and Ronnie was getting into the action.
It was a mix-up now. I shot twice and saw one of them bustards go down. Me, I found myself on my butt. Guns were going off, one along side of me and one in front. I slid into darkness.
I come to rocking on my bronc. I was tied on and I thought my head was coming off with every step that damned hoss took. I looked around.
There were three cowpokes and the old man ahead of me. The woman was leading my mount. I could hear hosses behind me. One man was leading two broncs. Both had bodies tied on them. I wondered if one was my killing. Made no mind, that woman ahead of me was safe. Real safe from them who were tied face down. I passed out again.
Next time I comed to, I was on the ground. My hands were still tied though, so I knew I wasn't out of the woods yet. I had my back propped up against a tree. I heard the woman being named as Jessie. Well, Jessie came over and fed me some pieces of meat and some kind of biscuit. She also held a cup for me to get a swig of coffee. I mumbled, "Thanks."
"What's your name?"
I mumbled, "Bub Jones."
That was no name and she said so. I admitted to my Mom calling me Sam. About this time a man come along and told Jessie to get away from me. I took it he was her father.
"Jessie, he's headed for a noose, so don't you go get friendly with him."
"He isn't headed for no noose. All he done was butcher a calf. 'Sides that he saved me from getting pawed and violated and maybe killed. Ask Grampa."
"Makes no mind, he was with them. I'm taking him into the sheriff. It's his business now."
"I'll testify for him. Gramp will too."
"Okay, you do that girl. You were there and I guess you got the right. We'll get it sorted out." This damned sure didn't sound too promising for me. I was headed for jail no matter what. It was the late afternoon before we reached town. I was sure glad to get off that cayuse and lay down, hurtin' as I was. Guess I had picked up some fever from that gunshot in my side.
I was in the cell a week and beginning to feel pretty good, when I was led across the street to the saloon where my trial was being held. Didn't take long and I was soon in a buckboard headed for the territorial prison. Cattle rustling, charged and found guilty of. Sentence, two years, hard labor.
That there Jessie girl had appeared at the trial and she had stuck up for me. At least she kept me from getting my neck stretched. Well, I was going to be fed and clothed for some time and that wan't all bad. I already had picked up the name of Silent Sam, because I didn't say much. Hell, they didn't even have my name right. They had me down as Sam Jones, when I was born with Samuel Jones. I mumbled a lot, and said I had no kin. Nobody to answer who I really was.
Prison might have been hell for some men, but I didn't particularly find it so. I was eating and I had a bed to lie on at night. Sure I was working hard, bustin' up rocks, but I just looked on that as a way to pass the time. The county was buying these rocks to build a road and the prison had contracted to provide. We, in the quarry, had to fill so many barrows a day, wheeling them over to a chute and dumping them in. The stone went down to a waiting wagon and was hauled away.
The prisoner I was paired up with was this old man who had been in here seventeen years, having killed his partner over some woman. He was old, more'n fifty-five. At one time he had taught school and had ranched up near some Indian reservation. He did some braggin' on thet ranch and if half what he said was fact, it must be a good'n. Every morning he dreaded going out to the quarry and the hard work ahead of him for the day. I guess he was everything I wasn't, him being neat and organized, I soon found out.
We each had us a little cabinet for a few personal items and he would spend time positioning things in it. Me in mine, there wasn't much to position, but I watched him anyway. "You got to have order in your life, Bub, or it all goes to hell. Look at me. I got out of order and here I am."
He was a compulsive talker. At first it bothered the hell out of me, but then I started listening. I never considered myself dumb, just ignorant of life (in) the ways of living, that's all. Maybe I could cut a deal on improving some. "Kenny, I'm in here for two years. When I get out, I don't want to be the same man I was when I got here. Teach me stuff. You know how to speak, and how to figure and tot up accounts. Tell me how to be a rancher. Make me see how to keep out of trouble. Things like that.
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