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I paused long enough to replace the spent cartridge in my pistol; I try never to have less than 5 cartridges in the cylinder if I can help it. The advantage of the top-break action of the Schofield revolver is that it can be reloaded so fast and, in a bind, I can do it with one hand. It didn't take me 5 seconds to reload and I was ready to go after that snake-in-the-grass who had shot at me from ambush.
Juan and I followed the trail of blood as fast as we could through the dense brush. From the way our quarry was moving, I suspected that I had shot him in the left shoulder, but I couldn't be sure until I saw him. The brush started getting thinner and we sped up in hopes of catching the yahoo before he could get to his horse.
We broke out of the brush and saw a man just trying to mount up, but having a hard time of it because of a wound in his left shoulder. He was about 30 yards away and I yelled, "HOLD UP, THERE! STOP OR WE'LL SHOOT!"
He didn't stop trying to get on his horse, so Juan and I ran toward him. He gave up trying to mount and pulled his gun. There was nothing for it, Juan and I both fired at him before he could shoot at us. One of us caught him in the chest and the other caught him in the gut. It didn't make any difference which bullet came from which gun, either one would have killed him.
We both bent over the dead man to see what we could learn. The first thing I checked was his gun; it was a cap and ball Army Brass. This had to be the yahoo that shot John, but we still didn't know why. We looked through his pockets, but we didn't find anything to tell us who he was or why he was shooting at people. As far as we could tell, he was just another saddle-tramp.
We tied him to his horse and went back to get ours. It was still early enough in the day that we had time to go by town and turn the body over to the marshal. Maybe he could identify the man.
Marshal Sedgwick didn't know who he was, so we left the body in town and went back to the ranch in time for supper. Juan and I washed up and then went in to eat supper with Jane. Her eyes were so red that I was sure that she had been crying the whole time we were gone. It was obvious how much she loved John.
We told her of the incident on the south range and that we were sure the dead man must have been the one who had shot John. She was glad that the man was dead, but she expressed regret that we hadn't been able to question him before he died.
I asked Juan how many cattle were owned by the Circle JB. He said, "There are about 600 head of prime beef, plus some culls. About 200 head have been stolen, so far."
"Kin the herds be combined into one so that they kin be guarded better?"
"Yes, Senor Bill, they kin. We have not done this because Senor John was worried about overgrazing."
"Jane, what do ya think? They're yer cattle."
"Bill, I really don't know enough about cattle to have an opinion. Do whatever ya an' Juan think is best."
"Juan, let's give it a try. Combine all the cattle into one herd an' keep guards with them all the time. Overgrazing won't make no never mind if there ain't no cattle to graze."
"That is true. I'll start work on it tomorrow morning."
"Where will you start the bunching?"
"I think that the south range is the best place. Most of the cattle are there, already, so it will be easiest to move the others to be with them."
"That sounds good to me. How many riders do ya have ta put on guard duty?"
"We have 13 hands, total, so I would like to put 10 with the cattle and keep 3 here to handle odd jobs. I will rotate them around so that the work evens out."
"Good. I'll leave it up ta ya, Juan. It sounds like ya know what ya're doin'."
The next morning, I checked on John and found Jane at his bedside. "How is John, this morning?"
"There hasn't been any change, that I can tell. He was exactly as we left him last night."
"Did ya get any sleep last night?"
"Not really. I spent most of the night in this chair in case he needed sumpthin' durin' the night."
"Jane, ya have ta git some rest, too. Ya can't he'p John if ya're sick in bed cuz ya didn't git enough rest. Please arrange fer some of the women to take turns watchin' him so ya kin git the rest ya need."
"Ya're right, Bill. It's jus' that I'll feel guilty if I ain't right here an' he needs sumpthin'."
"Yeah, an' ya'll feel a lot more guilt if ya git sick an' can't do fer him. Now, please do as I ask."
"OK, I see ta it right after breakfast."
"An' then ya go to sleep, yerself. I'm goin' into town ta see if I kin puzzle out some of the strange goin' ons aroun' here."
"Don't fergit to have breakfast, yerself."
"I won't," I promised.
I ate breakfast and rode into Hixville to talk to the marshal and the friendly bartender. I saw the marshal first.
"Mornin, Marshal. How're ya doin today?"
"Tolerable, Bill. I'm tolerable. How about yerself?"
"I'm right tolerable, thank ya. I wanted to talk ta ya 'bout some of the things what have been happenin' at the Buckley ranch. Have ya got the time?"
"Shore do. I always got the time fer my friends and doubly so when it falls into the line of business. Fire away."
"Well, the first thin' what bothers me is why some stranger would shoot poor John Buckley from ambush. Cuz that's what he done, jus' like he done me. Is there some kind of range war goin' on aroun' her what I should know about?"
"If there's a range war, it's news ta me. The marshal ain't always the first ta hear thin's, but a range war can't be kept a secret. I don't believe that could be the problem."
"OK, then, does anybody else have a rustlin' problem?"
"Now, that's what's so peculiar. As far as I know, John Buckley is the only rancher aroun' here with a real rustlin' problem. Shore, other ranchers lose a head or two now an' then, but that's mostly to some hungry Injun or saddle tramp. The crazy thin' is, the cattle jus' disappear. Nobody's reported seein' any herd on the move, or even a dust cloud. A couple hundred cattle have to be somewhere, but I'll be damned if I kin figure where!"
"OK, Sol, I kin believe that only one ranch might have a rustlin' problem, an' we're close enough to the Chisholm trail to make a run to market at the right time. But this ain't the right time! There's got ta be some other reason fer John's cattle ta be stolen. Could it be that somebody is trying ta drive him off his ranch ta git the property?"
"Now, I ain't never thought of that! The only thin's that people usually want from land is grazin', water, or gold. John has grazin' and water, but I ain't never heard of gold aroun' here."
We talked about other things and were winding down when Buck, the swamper, came running in and shouted, "MARSHAL, COME QUICK! THERE'S A BIG FIGHT AT THE SALOON!"
We both jumped up and ran over to the Gold Nugget to see how we could help. By the time we got there, guns were blazing and there was hell to pay! How could men get so drunk so early in the day? Tables were turned over to make shields and several men on both sides of the dispute were popping out to shoot wildly at the other side. No one was likely to hit his mark, but somebody could still get hurt by a stray bullet, so the marshal was duty bound to stop the foolishness.
Sol took one look at the mess inside and yelled at me, "I"LL BE RIGHT BACK!" He took off for his office and a minute later was back with a shotgun. He barely entered the saloon and fired both barrels at the far wall. The shotgun was loaded with birdshot, so not much damage was done to the wall, but the double blast got everybody's attention.
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