Chaparral Range War (9781101619049) Page 16

  Next he heard the black girl cry out for help. Sounds of a struggle came from the front hall. He spun on his heels and went to the kitchen door to see what was going on. Three men were standing there fighting with the maid. One was holding her arms pinned behind her back, the other two were busy ripping the clothes off her body. She was kicking and giving them hell like a wildcat.

  Guthrey reached the one on the right and coldcocked him over the head with the pistol in his hand. The man’s knees buckled, and he went down like a poleaxed steer. Then, before the other man with his hands full of the maid’s black dress material could drop it, Guthrey shoved the muzzle of his cocked gun hard into his gut. Close to the men, he could smell the whiskey on their collective breath. “Tell that hombre holding her to stop or you’re dead.”

  “Quit, Rattler. He’s got a damn gun in my guts.”

  “Who the hell are you anyway?” the red-faced third man asked. When he let go of her arms, the maid whirled and gave the man her knee twice real hard in the crotch and he went down to his knees, oohing in pain and holding himself.

  She fled down the hall, trying to gather up her torn clothes to cover her nudity. The man Guthrey had covered was backed to the wall, and Guthrey disarmed him.

  “What in the hell is going on down here?” a fat-faced woman with smudged makeup demanded, halfway down the staircase.

  The blond whore was there by then. “Those three crazy guys came in here shouting at Newby and went to stripping off all her clothes like they were crazy. This man here fought them all off.”

  “Who are you, sir?” The madam tightened up the fluffy white robe that had been exposing a good portion of her hefty breasts.

  “My name’s Guthrey. I came by to check on Dan and be sure he was all right. Minding my own business. I don’t know any of these three and wanted them to leave the black girl alone.”

  “If we had some real law in this county, there might be some peace and quiet on Sunday mornings around here. My name’s Ellen Foster.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I agree, and I’m the man who can deliver that.”

  “Guthrey, I believe you are that man. Girls, go eat your breakfast. Mr. Guthrey, what can we do with these men?”

  “We can tie them up. Later this afternoon, I can take them to the county seat and have them put in jail for trial.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He waited for her answer.

  She wrinkled her large nose at him. “I suppose they’d get off anyway.”

  “No, ma’am, the judge is tough and straight. They’ll do time if we do it like I say.”

  “But Killion would send a boy around to collect more money from me if I did that.”

  “Have you heard that there’s a petition going around to have him removed from office?”

  “Well, no, but that’s a good idea if anyone will dare sign it.” She scowled at the three men.

  “Over a hundred have already signed it. Folks are tired of being run over by bullies like these three.” So he’d exaggerated the number some, but word would get out that the number was larger than that.

  Hands on her hips, she nodded. “You girls go get some ropes and we’ll tie them up.”

  “Lady, you do and I’ll burn this damn whorehouse down,” threatened the one called Rattler, who’d held the black girl.

  “What’s your name?” Guthrey asked.

  “Burt, Burt Alson. What damn business is it of yours?”

  “I think there’s a reward for you in Texas. Kaufman County. I’ll wire them when we get you over to the county seat and find out.”

  Alson’s face went white, and Dan sharply warned Alson, “You go for that gun, mister, he’ll kill you too.”

  “You all right, Dan?” Guthrey asked, not looking around at him.

  “I’m fine. Sorry you had to come look for me.”

  “Aw, Cally just wanted to be sure you were still alive.”

  Dan frowned at him. “You tell her anything?”

  Guthrey shook his head, busy disarming the men. He reached down, took a fistful of the groggy one’s shirt collar, and dragged him on his butt over to prop him against the wall. “What’s your name?” he asked the second one, a black-bearded man in his twenties.

  “Roy Carlton.”

  “Address?”

  “Tombstone.”

  “What’s his name?” He indicated the one holding his sore head and seated on the floor.

  “Deal Brant.”

  Guthrey had written their names on the back of a petition and put the stub lead pencil away along with the paper.

  “What’s your plan?” Dan asked.

  “A bunch of masked riders raided Sam Joyce’s place last night and burned his haystacks. I’m headed up there to look for evidence. You guard this riffraff here and I’ll be back in a few hours. Then we can take them to jail.”

  “Joyce all right?”

  “I guess so. Noble talked to him. Cally and I were at the dance.”

  The three outlaws were herded out on the back porch. Their hands and feet tied, they were seated on the boards on the back porch. Guthrey told Dan to gag them if they became too noisy, and he agreed. Guthrey went out front and checked the contents of their saddlebags. They each had a money-bag mask in one side or the other. He glanced back at the two-story house. What he’d found pointed to them as being some of the Joyce place raiders he was looking for.

  He hadn’t seen a ruby ring on any of them. That must fit the leader of the bunch’s finger. Someone else had to have noted that big ring besides Joyce and the ranch woman who had been assaulted. There was no money for them in burning down haystacks and terrorizing God-fearing folks. They were on someone’s payroll. He noted that none of their horses wore a brand either.

  Back inside the house he met Steffany, a black-haired girl in her teens with long eyelashes who drawled like she came from Dixie. A little on the chubby side, she acted very attentive to his and Dan’s conversation about Dan guarding the three men until Guthrey got back.

  Guthrey removed his hat to nod good-bye and told her he was pleased to have met her. Attached to Dan’s arm, she smiled and said, “Thanks.”

  Then he promised the boss lady he’d be back and headed for the Joyce Ranch with all the crew of girls standing out on the porch waving hankies good-bye at him when he rode out.

  It was hard for him not to laugh at the sight of them doing that as he rode on his way up East Mountain, headed for the Joyce place. Maybe he could pinpoint those three prisoners as the some of the night raiders. He certainly hoped so. A sun time check told him it was already midmorning and he hadn’t even gotten to see the Joyce family. They probably thought he was not coming at all.

  SEVENTEEN

  THE JOYCE PLACE was up a live water creek that fed into the San Pedro River. Guthrey could smell the burned alfalfa as he rode under some cottonwoods, the leaves overhead rustling in the rising wind. The narrow field of legumes was across the nearly dry streambed and under tight fencing to keep range cattle out. It wound up the way, and he could see how the man’s flood irrigation system worked.

  He must have been watering some of his crops. The killdeers were busy harvesting grasshoppers and other bugs set in flight at the advancing spread of water through the green stems. He saw the black rings of the once-tall stacks when the house and corrals became visible. A windmill creaked away, pumping well water into a huge tank.

  Sam Joyce came to greet him, and a much younger woman who looked very pregnant came out of the house. Three small ones surrounded her, holding her apron and looking up to her for the answer about who this strange man on horseback was—friend or foe?

  “Sorry I’m so slow getting over here,” Guthrey said, dismounting and shaking Joyce’s calloused hand. “But I had to check on some other things happening.”<
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  Joyce looked tired but he nodded his head. “Everyone’s all right here now.”

  “Yes, I can see that this morning. You were real lucky. Obviously those people have no respect for families.”

  “I agree. Come on, the wife will make us some fresh coffee.”

  These folks were not Mormons if they were serving coffee. Guthrey led the pony over to the hitch rail, then followed Joyce inside the house.

  Seated at the wooden table, Guthrey asked the man if he’d noticed the raiders’ horses.

  The man turned to his wife. “Henny, did you notice anything about them devils’ horses?”

  She looked pained walking across the room with the cups in her hand. “Not really. It was about sundown and the light was real red. I saw one had an army bridle with a U.S. button on it where the headstall was connected to the brow band.”

  “Thanks,” Guthrey said. He didn’t recall seeing the bridle headstall on any of the men’s horses at the whorehouse, but there were supposed to be six men who rode in on the raid.

  “This man with the ruby ring. Was there anything else about him that you can recall?”

  “He was loud. Swore a lot. He rode a sorrel horse with a white blaze, and I felt sorry for the horse by the way he jerked him around.” She came back with the coffeepot. “I’ve got milk. No sugar.”

  “Black’s fine. Anything else?”

  She looked at her husband as if she needed his approval, and he nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “If you repeat this to anyone, I’ll swear I never told you. But Sally Landers and Jenny Samples both told me that a man with a ring like he wore had—had raped them both on two different occasions while their men were gone from the house.”

  Tears spilled down her red face.

  “Did he ever assault you?”

  She shook her head. “No, I never saw him before, but please don’t tell anyone I told you about him.” She buried her face in a rag, and her shoulders shook as she cried.

  “Mrs. Joyce, I’ll find him, and you won’t ever be mentioned. And he’ll pay for his crimes. But I need to know all I can about him. Is there anything else you can tell me?”

  She shook her head and left the room.

  Joyce made a wary face. “How will you stop him?”

  “I’m not certain. I’ll have to find him first. No one speaks about that ring, except a few people who saw it. I don’t want him to take it off either, so we need to be quiet about it.”

  “I never thought about that,” Joyce said at his comment. “All he has to do is take it off and we couldn’t identify him, right?”

  “Exactly. So let’s keep this news to ourselves. And I have to wonder if the husbands know about those assaults.”

  Joyce set down his cup. “By gar, they might not know about it.”

  “Exactly. I don’t want to make any trouble for those women. But I also want to know more identifying marks on the man that they might have seen.”

  Joyce went for the coffeepot on the stove to refill their cups. “I can see where this law business can be lots of work. I’m learning. Never thought before how hard it would be convicting them. In the old days, a man handled it himself. Like a bad cow-killing wolf or mountain lion, you hunted them down and shot them. Or hired hunters to do it for you.”

  Guthrey agreed. “That’s why we need new law in Crook County.”

  “We sure ain’t got none now.”

  “I better get back to town. I caught three men this morning having a rampage in a house and have them tied up over there. I’ll take them to the county seat today and have them locked up. I suspect they were part of the raiders but I can’t prove it. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  “Let me sign that petition now. I hope you win. We need a man like you as sheriff.”

  Guthrey shook his hand and thanked him. Then he told Joyce’s wife good-bye and went for his horse. Still had lots to do before dark.

  * * *

  BACK AT STEWARD’S Crossing, Dan helped Guthrey load each man on his own horse. The youth was still hobbling around, but he kept a straight face. With the hell-raisers on their horses, Guthrey stepped over to privately ask the madam if she’d ever seen the ruby ring.

  “I have.”

  “Who wears one, Ellen?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Why do you need him anyway?”

  “He’s raped several ranch women and led the raid last night.”

  “I have never heard about him doing that.” Her blue eyes narrowed, and he saw her bulldog attitude set in.

  “He may be one of your best customers, but the sumbitch has no business raping housewives or any women who aren’t interested in him.” His temperature started up. She knew damn good and well who wore that ring and wouldn’t tell him. All he got from her was silence, and she looked the other way.

  “Never mind, I’ll find him—and don’t you warn him either, ’cause I can make lots of trouble for you if you put him on the run. Raping honest women makes lots of problems for them that they don’t deserve. Think on that. I’ll be back, and I want his name.”

  “I think you’re a tough man, Guthrey. Crook County needs a tough lawman. I hope they elect you after the vote. But you don’t know the problems I might have either.”

  He left her, mad as a hornet that she wouldn’t tell him the son of a bitch’s name.

  “Something wrong?” Dan asked when he joined him.

  “No. Let’s get these things straight. Are you feeling good enough to ride over there with me to deliver these three?”

  “Yes, I can stand the ride.”

  “I hate for you to make it. You’re still limping.”

  “Get on your horse, Dad, I’m riding along,” Dan said. When Guthrey looked at him with raised eyebrows, Dan continued, “You sound like my father.”

  Guthrey shook his head, recalling that he’d told Cally that this business of checking on Dan was a father’s job, and smiled. “Let’s go deliver them.”

  He swung up on the ranch horse and told Dan to lead the prisoners. He jerked the Winchester out of its scabbard, looked around to be sure they were not being threatened, and they left in a trot.

  Soda Springs blazed in the setting sun when they pulled up at the county jail.

  “Stay here,” Guthrey said to Dan and went inside.

  “That you, Guthrey?” Tommy asked from behind his high desk at the key. He raised the green celluloid visor and smiled. “You got more prisoners?”

  Guthrey nodded and turned to look in the jail office. The grizzly faced jailer behind the desk looked sour as he discovered who was out there. He rose and stretched. “What the hell do you need?”

  “I have three men who are suspects in a raid on a rancher and his family last night.”

  “I don’t have any room in this jail, I can tell you right now.”

  “I am swearing out a warrant for their arrest and for you to hold them.”

  “You got any evidence?”

  “Yes. Three new masks they wore last night in the raid.”

  “That ain’t nothing.”

  “I don’t know any normal folks who go around with masks in their saddlebags. Do you?”

  The man held out his hands. “I ain’t accepting no more prisoners.”

  “I can go get the judge—”

  “Gawdamnit, we had a peaceful county here until you got here. What are all these arrests going to do?”

  “Make this county a damn sight better place to live for honest folks. Get ready. I’ve got three of them to lock up and hold.”

  The grumbling of the prisoners back in the cells almost caused Guthrey to smile as he strode back down the hallway to get his new ones. The three were listed on the sheet, searched, and then pushed in the already crowded cells. The wounded one
, from the house of ill repute, was in one of the cells lying on a lower bunk.

  Then Guthrey filed the three masks as evidence and made the deputy sign for them along with the arrest papers. He made an X on the paper.

  Dan visited with Tommy across the hall at the telegraph key while Guthrey finished his paperwork in the sheriff’s office. Guthrey could see that the deputy, called Drummonds, was illiterate and made it clear by marking the tops of the papers with signs so he could identify them for whoever needed to look at them.

  After all the time it took they finally left the courthouse. Guthrey decided they better find some food. It would be long past midnight before they reached the ranch, and his belly told him he needed to eat something.

  The café was empty, but the waitress came out and smiled at them. She promised them she could feed them something, though it was Sunday and closing time.

  “We’d eat about anything,” Guthrey assured her and she went back to discuss the matter with the cook.

  She stuck her head out of the kitchen. “How about breakfast?”

  “Suits us fine,” he said to her and Dan agreed.

  She and the unseen cook provided scrambled eggs with chopped ham, German fried potatoes, a pile of toast with grape jam, and fresh coffee. After the great meal, Guthrey paid her fifty cents and thanked her for being so kind to them.

  “No problem. Glad you two came by.”

  Guthrey waved at her before closing the front door and he and Dan stepped out into the twilight. Side by side, they headed east on the main road. Heat from the day began evaporating and the stars started to peek out in the vast sky over them. Night insects chirped and a few desert owls hooted for their mates. Then the coyotes began to howl to each other. The desert night woke up, and Guthrey and Dan trotted their mounts to make as much time as they could. Cally would be worried about them taking so long to get back, and there was no way to allay her concern but push to get back there.

  Guthrey knew he had lots of riding ahead of him to collect the number of signatures they had to have on the petition. No doubt there’d be lots of turns and twists for him in the road to the election that he had not even imagined. And he needed to find out who the man with the ruby ring was.