Chapter 8

The train was still moving when I realized something was going on as I opened the door because it was noisy. I stepped inside. A man was standing right beside my empty seat. He had a gun in his hand, the people were all talking, and I could see they were scared as hell. Another man at the far end shouted for everyone to shut up. Just then, I could see him lock the door. He had a gun in his hand, too.

“Zeke, grab whatever handbags you can from anyone that looks like they got money. That’ll add to what is in the pouch I got after killing the bank guard.” I saw him turn and look at Olivia and Itea. They didn’t appear rich enough,

The robber beside Dorothy reached across my empty seat and grabbed her bag. No way was she giving it up. He pulled her hard enough to drag her across the seat, and she went head first down onto the floor, upper body in the aisle. His gun was coming up, and I knew he was going to shoot her. When I heard the other man tell everyone to shut up, I brushed my coat away from my gun. I drew as fast as ever, making everyone scream when it went off.

I didn’t have a clear shot at the man by the door. I needn’t have worried. I heard Itea’s .28 go off, and the man went sideways, down on the floor. The man I shot was down, too, and hurt badly. I yelled for everyone to be quiet.

“Hey, it’s all over, and no more danger. Let me get this woman sitting up. You, the Indian girl in the corner, open the door. Someone is pounding on it. A couple of you find the guns and hold onto them. Both men have been shot, and I don’t think they will be any more trouble. One of you corral the pouch with the bank money in it.”

I went forward and lifted Dorothy off the floor. As I sat her up, the conductor cautiously pushed the door open. “Is everything okay in here? I have a man dead in the forward car, and I see two men are down in here.”

He walked toward me and saw two guns on an empty seat. “Those, their guns?”

“Yeah, you take them. This woman is my grandmother, and she has been mauled. You might get them two robbers some help. This one was hit with a .45, and I tagged him.

“The other one was shot with a .28 Paterson. I haven’t looked at him.”

I didn’t remember when the train stopped, but it was now at a standstill. “You seem to know a lot about what went on here?”

“Yeah, I had to do something. This one here was about to shoot Mrs. Henry Horn of Horn Farmer’s Equipment supplies. I couldn’t let her be hurt worse than she was. Her two granddaughters are sitting by the door, and one unlocked it for you to enter. The pretty one in the dress is my wife. She is the one who shot and wounded the man near the door. The one dressed as an Indian is my wife’s cousin.”

“You people will have to hang around and tell your story of what happened here. There will be a here to take your statements. I imagine he will be taking statements from witnesses where the man in the next car was killed.”

The conductor grabbed a couple of witnesses from our car who said they saw all the action and let the rest go. The doctor came in to look at the wounded men, and he bound up their wounds. A constable placed them under arrest. The four of us ended up alone in a room in the rail station, waiting for the railroad detective to take statements.

We were there three hours and counting, and we were not anywhere near meeting George Franklin. The doctor had looked Dorothy over and put a bandage on a lousy scrape on one arm. I caught her often looking at me and Itea. She said little, though, which surprised me. Finally, she went out and demanded the station agent send a telegram to Tom Horn at Headquarters. Then she had him send a messenger with a note to George Franklin, three streets away. I don’t know what she wrote, but it was a long note.

I took Itea into a corner and said. “Itea, I’m going outside and guarding the door. I want you and Olivia to exchange clothes before you meet your grandfather. Would you do this for me?”

“Kid, I wanted to before this. It wasn’t my idea.”

“I know it wasn’t.” I told Olivia, “You have fifteen minutes to change back into the Ohio Beauty I met last night. No excuses or arguments at all.”

“Yes, Kid.” I paused before I went out,

“Dorothy, see if you can braid Itea’s hair. Knock on the door when it is done.”

I expected an old man to come to the station. I heard it say that Itea’s grandfather, George, sat on his porch and rocked in a chair. A man came into the station and looked around. This man couldn’t be Franklin. He was tall, wearing a neatly trimmed beard. His hair was grey but not white. He was wearing clean work clothes.

“Sir, are you George Franklin Senior?”

“I am. Do I know you?”

“Not yet, but you will. I am married to your Granddaughter Althea. My name is Matthew Jenkins. We live out in Wyoming, where I own a bit of land. Dorothy Horn is here to attest who I am and that my wife is your Granddaughter.”

“My son, Junior, and wife, Emma Horn?”

“Both deceased thirteen years ago, in the cold. They did this to save their child by giving up their blankets to have Althea live a few hours longer. Althea was found before she froze to death and is inside the room here to meet you.”

“Why are you out here telling me this?”

“So that you wouldn’t be too startled at this shock. Dorothy Horn fainted when they first met.” Ready or not, I opened the door.

Itea, fully dressed now in Indian attire, was rising from the chair she was sitting in to have her hair braided and pinned. She arose and didn’t stop walking slowly toward her grandfather. He opened his arms, and she walked right into them. Tears were running down both their faces.

“Hello Dorothy, It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Olivia, good to see you. You should stop and say more than Hi when you come to town. Why don’t you all come to the house and be comfortable? I hire a housekeeper, so it isn’t too bad.”

“I’m sorry, Sir, we can’t because there was a little trouble on the train coming up this morning. We have to stay here until the railroad gets through with us.”

“How much trouble are you in? It can’t be that bad.”

“George, I was being robbed, and I wouldn’t let go of my handbag. I was dragged by one hand across the seats, and he dumped me on the floor. The scoundrel was going to shoot me. I looked death right in the face,” Dorothy shuddered, “Kid saved my life by drawing his gun and shooting the bastard. Now we have to deal with the railroad.”

“What kid saved your life?”

“Kid, I’m Kid. That’s what people call me.”

Olivia had to get into this, too. “That’s when Itea shot the other robber and wounded him. The police have both robbers in Jail here in town.”

“Wait a minute, who is this Itea?”

“That’s me, Grandpa. My name is Itea. I guess it is short for Althea because when I was given to my Indian mother, that is all I would say, so they called me Itea. That’s the name I was married with, and I don’t want to change it.”

George Franklin was shaking his head from all the confusion. Just then, two railroad detectives opened the door and came in. A newspaper journalist and another person would take down what was said. We were interrogated for too long a time, and Itea and I had to produce our guns to be inspected. They didn’t want to return them to us.

I was exasperated. “Look, detectives, we were in town at 8:00 this morning. It’s almost 3:00 now. Mrs. Horn is elderly and has been injured. We shot two crooks and intentionally wounded them. Don’t you think we could have killed them both if we felt they should have been? Killing a man was reason enough, but he wasn’t my target; he was my wife’s to deal with. She was saving my life, which is why she shot the man. I was tending to one, and that one would have killed me before I could have time to turn my attention to him. Christ, we aren’t criminals!

“I’m hungry, and so aren’t the people with me.”

“Okay, I guess we have all we need from you. You may be receiving a commendation from the railroad, and I’ll put you in for one, anyway. You saved the bank a lot of money, and they should contact you. Don’t hold your breath.”

George took over. “Olivia, here is money for food. Get a bunch of food for all of us. Itea go with her, to carry it all. I’m not sure if you should go out in public to where you will be recognized. Dorothy, it would be best if you lay down. You have stood up well, and Kid shouldn’t be out.” He thought for a minute. “No, Itea, you stay with your husband. I’ll go with Olivia. Dorothy, you know my house; here are the keys to it. Kid and Itea will help you along if you get faint.”

We had quite a long walk to the Franklin house. We couldn’t hurry because Dorothy was so tired. She was also lame from the mauling she took when the robber was trying to get her purse. We did make it. The house was orderly and clean inside. The house was a man’s abode, without a woman’s touch of flowers and nick-knacks, but it was clean.

Olivia and George came in with a box of food, chinaware, and silverware. “I eat at the restaurant every day. They were glad to oblige me when I said I had guests. Ask Dorothy if she can come to the table?”

Dorothy came out and smiled, “A few minutes rest is all I needed.” She looked at Itea and asked, “Dear, you don’t seem upset with what you did this morning?”

“No, I’m not upset. Living as I did growing up, every day could turn out like this any day for me. I was sometimes fearful, but Kid came into my life and taught me more about being prepared. It is the only way to survive,”

“I’m sure it was never this bad as to what happened today.”

“Grandma, there were a couple of times it was worse. But we have learned not to talk about it. I am concerned about it being in the newspaper, there is nothing I can do about it. Kid and I will have to be aware now that our names are out there in case someone wants to take up for the robbers and retaliate.”

“Oh, Itea, you live so far out west, I’m sure it won’t happen. The news can’t travel that far.” Itea agreed, but I knew it wasn’t.

To change the subject, Itea went to her bag and brought the silver watch to her grandfather. “Grandfather, I believe this is yours. My Indian mother saved this for all these years since I was brought home to her. It was tied to my leg when I was unwrapped from all the blankets the Indians found me in.”

“Oh my dear, Junior made sure I would know what happened to them, or they wouldn’t have put it with you. They surely had faith that you would survive.”

“I believe that too because my mother kept saying that she was going to give me back to my white people, and it has come to pass.”

“I must meet this Mother of yours. I believe I will go west with you when you leave here. How long is it before you do leave?”

“We will leave as soon as you can get ready. Tom Horn came east to be with his two kids, and he may stay over a few days if I ask him. He certainly will go out and live near us. We talked of it already.”

“Kid, he will stay until I’m ready to leave. I telegraphed Henry last evening that I was returning to him and wanted him to stay there.” Dorothy had a satisfied look on her face.

I said, “What?”

“Kid, you saved my life, and I’m not ever going to be far away from you and Itea. Count on that for sure!”

“Gram, if you are going, I’m going with you.”

“Olivia, you must get permission from your father and mother.”

“Gram, I’ll ask, but how can I help get Itea’s business started making Moccasins if I live here? I believe I’m notional like my Aunt Emma was. I don’t have to stay here, and I’m of an age to leave if I so desire. I’m going out there with you, and if I like it, I may make my life there.”

There was a knock on the door. George stepped over and opened it. “Tom, what are you doing here?”

“Mother sent a telegram to me that there was some trouble and she wouldn’t be home tonight. I just made the train and came up. Everyone was talking about someone shot and killed in a robbery attempt. The robbers didn’t get away, and both were arrested after being wounded. I knew Kid was wearing a gun, and I suspect Itea was too.”

He looked over at his mother, “I heard that an elderly lady was abused and injured. That was you, mother, wasn’t it.”

“It was, and you can be thankful. The robber was going to take my purse and looked right into my eyes, and I knew he was going to shoot me. Suddenly, he tipped over and fell. I didn’t know at first that Kid shot him, and my life was saved.”

“Kid, is that what happened?”

“I did have to rush some, but everything came out better than expected. The damned railroad detectives kept us there in the station for several hours. Dorothy did get scraped on the arm and is lamed up from being dragged from where she was sitting by the window across the seats and dropped on the floor.”

“Who shot who during this fracas?”

“I shot the one who mauled Dorothy, and Itea wounded the robber who killed the bank guard who was transferring a satchel full of money up here to a bank in this town. It has been a long day. George has his watch back and is glad to meet Itea. She told him how she lived with the Indians for thirteen years, or some of it, anyway. He’ll get the whole story of her life before he is finished.

“Tom, have you met this woman who is Itea’s Indian mother?”

“I have, and she is something. She directed us on how to build a home for herself in one day, the day after arriving from a 200-mile journey. You must meet her someday.”

“I’m going to leave here and go with them when Kid and Itea leave for home.”

“Uncle Tom, I’m going with them too.”

“Olivia, your Father and Mother might object.”

“I’m old enough to go on my own.”

“Okay, but it’s a cold world out there alone.”

“I won’t be alone. Gram is going, and she is going to live there with Grandpa. You and Aunt Jenny and your kids will be there. I may pair up with Cousin Itea to make moccasins. I tried on the ones that Itea made for herself; they are so comfortable. Mr. Franklin is my friend, and he may live there too. I don’t think I will be alone.”

“Olivia, you look much like my sister Emma did at your age. You act much like her, too.”

Franklin spoke, “Tom, tell me about it. Emma and Junior were bound to go west, and I finally gave them my blessing. Bad things happened to them, but at least they were well-intentioned concerning Althea. Itea tells me how the Indians found her so she could live just a bit longer than they expected to. We never knew what was ahead of us, but they did everything right.

Everyone was tired. No one wanted to take the midnight train, especially Dorothy. She was satisfied to sleep in the day bed behind a folding screen in the parlor. Tom and I slept on the floor in the same room, using cushions from two stuffed chairs. George had his room, and Itea and Olivia slept in Junior’s boyhood room.

A setting room and bedroom occupied the other two bedrooms of the house for the housekeeper to live. George didn’t want her bothered and talked to her, but she never came out.

Tom was up early, went out, and bought bread, eggs, and sausage for breakfast. George had a cook range to cook on, using coal for fuel. I didn’t particularly care for the smell of it burning. I knew Wyoming had coal deposits but didn’t know if it was consumed much in the state.

Dorothy thanked George for her bed,” It wasn’t my own, but I did rest, and I thank you.” I was as comfortable as I would be sleeping on the ground, so I had no complaint.

We all caught the 7:55 train for the twenty-mile journey. I saw the railroad detective sitting with an empty aisle seat who talked to us yesterday. I sat down beside him. “Hey, I’m surprised you would sit with me. You had to wait a long time for us to arrive. But, of course, the killing of the bank guard in the next car took precedence. How is the old lady, who was roughed up? By the way, my name is Johnny Tay.”

“We had a place to stay. We stayed with my wife’s grandfather. His son married my wife’s mother, and they traveled west, both succumbing to the cold thirteen years ago. The Indians found the three-year-old baby and rescued her. I met her and her Indian mother when she was ten years old. It took me several months before I realized she was white. She didn’t know English, so I taught her to speak our language.

“Living as an Indian all that time wasn’t easy, and the squaw who mothered her lost two braves during that span of years. The Braves are the ones to hunt game to feed the family. I met the squaw, and they were starving. The ranch where I lived finally had them move the tepee to the ranch with us, and that was the end of their food problem.

“But there were always other dangers, like outlaws and robbers around the sparsely populated land. I set about teaching Itea to use a weapon, which came in handy yesterday. You heard me say yesterday that one of the men told the other to kill the old woman. I took care of that. My wife knew I might not have time to protect myself, so she took care of the killer. We practiced scenarios like this before, and it kept her grandmother alive, and my wife made sure I was safe.”

“I’d say that was looking ahead. How did you learn to do that?”

“The rancher who asked me to live on his ranch with him and his crew talked a lot about the old days on the frontier and how tough it was, and he taught me. He sold out and moved to where I’m living now in the southeast corner of Wyoming, near Wheatland, almost on the Nebraska border. Is this going to hold me up much from going home? I need to get a home built and out of living in the tepee before winter.”

“Not long. The Coroner’s Jury sits this morning at 11:00. The Sheriff will be moving this right along because the Bank is embarrassed over not giving the guard enough protection carrying that large sum of money. When it turns to the shooting you were involved in, most of the testimony will be from you, your wife, and Mrs. Horn. It is uncertain about the trial date. The Sheriff may pull all the need-to-know testimony from the Coroner’s Jury for the trial, seeing as you live so far away. I’ll talk to him this morning to see what we can do about that.”

“Thank You. I appreciate it.”

I didn’t get a chance to talk to my crowd at all. The railroad detective, Johnny, assured the Deputy Sheriff, who awaited us as we stepped off the train. “I made sure all those involved in railcar #3 yesterday are here to testify to their actions. Each who fired their gun is present. They are from out in Wyoming Territory. Also present is Mrs. Horn of the Henry Horns of this town. She is the woman roughed up and ended up on the floor. There is another young woman, the granddaughter of Mrs. Horn. Mrs. Horn also claims one of the shooters is her granddaughter as well. I haven’t fully figured out the connection in my mind yet.”

“Fine, I’m sure I can figure it out. Have all of those you are deemed involved follow me up the street to the court. It is filled with citizens of public interest because of what the morning paper said.”

I took Itea’s hand and whispered in Shoshoni, “This isn’t going well. If you get confused, shed a few tears and speak only in Indian. I’ll interpret what you say. Do not lie. If you can help, I will fill in what I can of what you are saying.”

“I have faith in my Brave for me to go home soon.”

Dorothy was a witness. There were the two that the Detective had picked to tell us what happened that we didn’t know; they just had to tell us what happened during the action of Itea and I.

The first thing as we entered the courthouse that let me know what we were facing. Just inside the courtroom, a man in a chair was sitting at a small table. He was saying, “No guns allowed in the courtroom. You can pick them up on the way out. Give me your name, and I’ll make sure your gun is returned to you.”

There were two derringers on the table already. Itea stepped up, opened her handbag, pulled out her pistol, and lay it on the table. “That’s loaded, handle it carefully.”

“The deputy, who was directly ahead, turned and touched it. “I’ll take that. It is evidence. What’s the caliber?”

Itea answered this. “It is a .28caliber Paterson.”

“Next.”

I brushed my coat aside, drew, and put it down on the table. “Army edition Colt, caliber .45. That is loaded and has a hair trigger. Handle it carefully.”

“That one is evidence as well. Why didn’t the authorities secure these before this?”

The railroad detective’s face was red. “I let them wear them. They were protecting themselves and those they were traveling with. Mrs. Horn would be dead if they didn’t have them to use. Jenkins might have been killed if his wife hadn’t judged him in danger. They were on railroad property, and I deemed them safe enough to wear.”

“Okay, we are wasting time here. I want to get a background on these two. Yes, and on Mrs. Henry Horn, how are these two related? Have them come forward as I call and sit at the table in front. We have to get ready for the Coroner at 11:00. The judge who will be trying the robbery and the murder of the bank guard will be listening in. We may not be able to get the witnesses back from Wyoming to testify, as it is so far out in the West. The Attorney for the two men charged has agreed to this. Both men have pled guilty and will be throwing themselves on the mercy of the court.”

“Mrs. Horn, I’m going to be prosecuting the robbers. Two men were shot when they entered the car you were traveling in. I need background information on witnesses involved in yesterday’s crimes while you boarded the train traveling east from your home for twenty miles. Would you please provide your name and approximate age?”

“Dorothy Althea Horn, above 55 years and much less than 65 years.”

“Children?”

Three sons, Zebedee, Gerald, and Thomas, are all living. One daughter, Married name Emma Franklin, Deceased; this was confirmed recently after thirteen years.”

“Well, that is explicit. How does the trouble you were the victim of enter into this?”

“I just learned within the week that my daughter and husband died thirteen years ago on their journey to Oregon. I might add that her husband’s father entered the business on these passengers’ trip we were on yesterday. My daughter married George Franklin, Junior.

“Emma had a daughter named Althea, whose name I was proud to bestow on her at the time of her birth. She survived the death of her parents, and through a coincidence, I met her one night at dinner. The resemblance was so close to my daughter that it caused me to have a fainting spell because she was the mirror image—only younger. My daughter and her husband lived with his father and did until they left for Oregon.

“That crook that killed the guard told the man that came in first to hurry and grab a purse of whoever looked like they were rich. I had on the brooch that I had given my daughter the last time I saw her. I couldn’t lose that since it was returned just three days ago. My granddaughter also had a watch returned to her that belonged to my daughter’s husband, given to him by his father. The Squaw, my granddaughter’s Indian Mother, handed me both two days ago.

“For thirteen years, she saved the two items, always promising Itea that someday she could live with white people. She then relinquished the white child she loved and cared for, like one of her own, to us, who are related. How she knew this, I have no idea. It is another coincidence, like the one that occurred a few days ago when I spoke of meeting my granddaughter. We headed up on the train to the Franklin home to let him know that his son and daughter-in-law were dead and the child survived.”

“What are your intentions at present? You should be able to make the trials as a witness.”

“No, I will not. My husband, Henry, plans to construct a farm equipment supply depot as a concern, much like the one here in town. He has bought land in Wyoming, and I’ll be living there. The new store will widen their market considerably. My son, Tom, and my grandson, Matthew, will fully participate in this endeavor. I intend to make up for the many years that my grandchild was missing.

“Another reason for me to be close is that I looked up into the man’s face, who dragged me out of my seat, threw me onto the floor, and curled his finger around the trigger to kill me. It didn’t happen, only because Matthew shot and wounded him.”

“This is a very detailed account. Mrs. Horn, you may return to your family. I want to speak with Mr. Jenkins. Please come forward and take a seat.”

I patted Itea on the shoulder, walked ahead, and took the seat Dorothy had vacated. “State your name and age and where you reside.”

“Matthew Jenkins, age 22, lives in the Wyoming Territory near the first town, Wheatland, just beyond the Nebraska border. I own property there, purchased seven years ago by my parents. They are deceased, and the property now belongs to me. No other relatives except those related to my wife. I have been away for several years and have just taken up residence in the last two months.”

“Mr. Jenkins, you don’t have to anticipate my question. What happened to your parents that made you decide to leave them?”

“I was hunting a lost cow and heard gunshots where my father was plowing a field. When I could see the field, I saw three riders leaving in the distance. I recognized one of the horses as belonging to a neighbor from a nearby ranch. My father was dead, and the team used for plowing died as well. I went into the house and found my mother was down, struggling to breathe after having a heart attack. She died in my arms two hours later.

“I had been present the day before when the neighbor was in the yard arguing with my father, not selling our property to him. I was fearful that the neighbor would hunt me down and kill me. I took the time to bury my parents and to gather his tools to take with me. I was planning on him teaching me his trade, that of a wheelwright. I left immediately the following morning. Returning six years later, I found that it was another person who had shot my father, and the neighbor himself was innocent. We have since become friends.

“Tell me more about how you resolved this.”

“When I reached town after I was old enough to deal with the murder of my father, I talked to a lawyer about regaining the property. When he heard my story, he contacted the sheriff, who explained everything, and I found that the killer had been apprehended, found guilty, and hung for the deed.”

“So you gained back the land you had run away from?”

“If you want to put it that way, yes.”

“How old were you at that time?

“Fifteen, a week short of sixteen.”

“So, where were you all this time away?”

“I went North on my father’s saddle horse and with my father’s tools packed on my mother’s mare. I stopped in a glen a hundred miles from where I started. A ranch owner and his three cowpunchers spent the night in the same place. I left with them when invited to live by the owner. I lived there until he sold the ranch and cattle. Those punchers moved on later, and three more were replaced. The owner has now married and is living close by in my hometown. The three punchers are now staying with me and my wife, looking for work.”

“What is the name of this ranch owner you speak about?”

“His name is Rocky Sedgewich. He is a great person and taught me a lot about ranching and living in today’s time.”

“Did you have any close neighbors at the time?”

“No, not at the time I went there. I found out a short time later that there were three tepees of Indian families an hour away, branching off the road to the ranch. I became familiar with them eventually. One of the squaws was pregnant and didn’t have a brave. The two other squaws each had a brave off hunting, and I didn’t know them, only meeting them later one time. There were seven children belonging to the three squaws. They all were in trouble with only a little food. The two braves did return later, taking their squaws and children with them back to the Shoshoni Reservation.

“Before they left, they transported the pregnant squaw, an old Indian they called Grandfather, and her ten-year-old child to the ranch. They lived on the ranch in a tepee until Rocky sold the ranch. The squaw birthed a boy very shortly after arriving. The old Indian lived much longer than expected and now had enough food. The girl and I put him a mule when he died and buried him on the high mountain where he could see the sunrise in the morning.”

“Why would you do such a thing for just one old Indian?”

“Why? It was in the tribal culture for a burial like that, if possible, and it would have happened if he was with the tribe. It was an honor to treat him as such, for he was a great hunter once.”

“What were the living arrangements when all of you were living there?

“Rocky and his crew of three lived in the cabin, which is more of a shack than anything. I built a small addition to the barn for my bunk. Karen, the girl, and the old Indian lived in the tepee.” I paused, frowning. “I think you had better stop with this line of questions. I don’t like where you are going with them at all.