Mat Sullivan(2) - Cover

Mat Sullivan(2)

Copyright© 2007 by aubie56

Chapter 16

New Mexico Territory, January, 1896

I headed east out of Goshen with no particular destination in mind, just my usual routine of stopping at every saloon I could find looking for useful information. As expected, things were kind of slow this time of year. I didn't find anything until my fifth or sixth town.

One of the leading merchants in town was involved in a feud with a local, big wheel rancher. The merchant wanted a bodyguard and was willing to pay my usual fee, so I hired on. The first week was kind of dull and routine, but then it happened! Seven yahoos rode in from the enemy's ranch looking for trouble. The merchant and I happened to be in the nearest saloon, his favorite, eating lunch and having a beer.

The cowboys tied up out front and came storming into the saloon laughing and shouting about how they were in town to clean out the troublemakers. They rushed up to the bar and all ordered beer. One of them happened to look in the mirror and saw us sitting at a table. He cursed, shouted to his friends, and turned to pull his gun.

I saw this and pushed our table over to act as a shield. I quickly had the merchant hiding on the floor while I drew my gun and began shooting at the seven at the bar. They all began blazing away at us behind our overturned table, but the thick tabletop stopped the bullets. The other patrons in the saloon ran outside, but peeked in to watch the fun. The bartender ducked behind his specially reinforced section of the bar and kept low.

I managed to plug three of the cowboys in my first pistol load. The other four scattered to cut down on my easy targeting. I quickly reloaded all six chambers in my pistol's cylinder, and resumed firing. By this time, the attackers had also positioned themselves behind overturned tables, so that it now became a question of which shooter was going to get lucky. With a little coordination and cooperation, our attackers could have taken us easily; but they apparently were not intelligent enough to realize that. They contented themselves by simply blazing away at us without effect.

After a few minutes of this nonsense, I spotted a booted foot projecting from the cover of a table. I knew that any innocents were outside the saloon enjoying the show, so I shot at the boot and got lucky. Just as I shot, the wearer of the boot moved enough to expose his ankle and that's what I hit. My bullet shattered his ankle and he let out a piercing scream. He then began crying and begging for help. Of course, none of his friends dared approach him while I was still able to shoot. Therefore, we were all condemned to listen to this noise during the rest of the fight.

About this time, the marshal arrived, but had sense enough not to rush into the saloon. He got the story of the fight from the spectators outside and decided to deputize all who were willing to be a part of a posse to break up the standoff. They all agreed; this was even more fun! The marshal shouted for us to hold our fire while he and his posse came in.

As soon as he got in the door he went to the cowboys and disarmed them. He arrested the four living yahoos for disturbing the peace and took them to jail. I was absolved of blame; the marshal declared that this was a clear case of self defense. I got lucky, also, because one of the three dead men was worth a $25 reward for horse stealing.

The owner of the saloon wanted my employer to pay for the damage, but he refused. He pointed out that the other side had started the trouble, so their employer should pay.

The next day, a delegation of townspeople rode out to the rancher's home and demanded that this feud stop; it was potentially too damaging to the town. He hemmed and hawed for a while, but finally bowed to the pressure. Suddenly, I was out of a job. Without a feud, my employer no longer had need of me, so I collected my money and left.


I wandered around until the first of April without finding anything. I was so desperate that I sent a telegram to Saul Jakobs asking if he knew of something that needed my attention. He wired right back that he, indeed, knew of something that I should please look into and to come to Santa Fe immediately. When Saul asks, I jump! I stabled my horse and took the train to Santa Fe.

I booked into my usual hotel and sent a message to Saul that I was there and asking when and where I should meet him. The reply came back by the same messenger, "Please come to my office immediately." I got there as fast as a cab could move.

We shook hands and went into Saul's office. Jake was there, too. The story was that one of Saul's best friends, and a bank officer, had been kidnapped. The crime had taken place over a week ago and time was running out. The ransom demand was unreasonably high, not even a bank officer could pay it! The ransom was for $1,000,000; not even the bank, itself, could raise that much cash in the time left. The kidnappers had promised to kill their victim on May 1st if the ransom were not paid by then.

Jake had been investigating the crime, but all he knew for certain was that the kidnappers were not now in Santa Fe. He had found traces of them on a lonely trail outside of town, but was not skilled enough in tracking to follow their trail over frozen ground and rocks. That afternoon, Jake and I left on horseback to look at their trail. We followed for a while, but I wasn't able to get much further than Jake had. The trail was old and I was not up to the task. But I knew somebody who was: Many-Horses.

I told Jake the problem and we left immediately to contact Many-Horses. We rushed as fast as we could and found Many-Horses without delay. His wives were all bulging like they were about to explode and he was glowing with pride. We quickly explained our problem and asked for his help. I asked him to bring as many braves as he liked, we would pay expenses. I emphasized that speed was a critical factor. We would pay Many-Horses $200 for his help and he was to pay his men out of that. He agreed and selected four young Apache men to join in the hunt.

We returned to the point where I had lost the trail and the Apaches immediately began to cast about for "sign." Before long, I heard a bird call and Many-Horses beckoned us to follow him to the source of the call. There, a brave was waiting for us, and we followed him over some very rocky ground. Nobody said anything; we just rode behind the walking Apache. Finally, he stopped and told Many-Horses that the light was fading too much for him to continue today. We stopped and made a dry camp there.

The next morning, all four of the Apaches raced off to follow the trail, Many-Horses stayed behind to guide Jake and me. Late that same afternoon, we came to where three braves were waiting for us; the fourth was watching a cabin a little further along.

Many-Horses, Jake, and I dismounted and were led to the scouting brave. He pointed out the cabin and a route we could follow to get there, come nightfall.

We sat around, talking quietly and waiting for hard-dark. The moon was out, so we had to be careful as Jake and I were led to the cabin by the scout. Since he had found the cabin, it was his honor to lead us. We crept up and examined the cabin through a window. We saw that there was only one room; bunks were on one side and a stove was on the other, with a table and several chairs in between.

Jake pointed out the captive we were there to save. He was guarded by five men in the room and one outside, who was currently standing by the door. The brave, Iron-Hand politely asked if he was permitted to take out the guard and we acquiesced, but I cautioned him not to take the scalp at this time. He nodded and left. About three minutes later, he was back with a big grin and the guard's carbine. We then waved for the others to join us.

We moved away from the window and discussed the best way to take out the rest of the guards without letting them kill their victim. Jake and I also pointed out that we needed one of the men alive so he could tell us who planned this fiasco. Since Iron-Hand had already made his kill, he was detailed to gather the thugs' horses and lead them to safety while the rest of us dealt with the thugs in the cabin. He was free to join us after the horses were safe.

It was decided that we would throw a horse blanket over the stove chimney to cause smoke to collect in the cabin. Surely, somebody would come out to investigate and Big-Nose could have the honor of taking him. However, he was not to be killed, just captured and kept out of the way so that he could not warn the others. Hopefully, another man would then come out to see why the first had not fixed the smoke problem. If he did, he could be killed by Elk-Horn. That would leave three in the cabin with their prisoner and I was to stand at the window, ready to shoot, if they became suspicious enough to try to harm their victim.

There was only one door to the cabin, so we were reluctant to rush through the door. If we did, we would surely get in each other's way, giving too much of an advantage to the kidnappers. Finally, we decided that there was no other way, we would just have to rush the cabin. Jake would go watch at the the other window while Many-Horses, Sharp-Eye, and Juan would rush through the door. We wanted to capture, rather than kill, as many of the men in the cabin as possible to allow more people for questioning. At this point, Juan left us to get three suitable sticks to use as clubs; somebody might get hurt if they used knives.

Shortly, Juan returned with the clubs and a blanket which Many-Horses tossed over the smoke vent and we waited for events to unfurl. Not much later, we heard coughing coming from the cabin. A man got up to inspect the stove and reported that he could not find anything wrong with the stove or the dampener. The man who appeared to be the leader picked out one of the others to put on his coat and go take a look at the chimney. He had hardly closed the door before Big-Nose hit him with a borrowed club and dragged him out of the way.

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