Chapter 12

Killer Chaos

We’re only a few miles out of Doña Anna when we hear shooting up ahead just off the road. Since our scouts haven’t reported back it either started after they went through or they’re caught up in it. We gallop ahead and soon top a rise to view what’s happening.

There’s an Indian village set up in a small flat beside a curve in a stream a few hundred yards off the road. A group of about fifty or sixty gringos are working their way toward the village on foot while they’re shooting at the inhabitants of the village, three men are on a small rise to our left directing the attack by waving flags. The Indians have taken what cover they can and are defending themselves. In the middle of the defence I can see two of our scouts working hard to help the villagers.

After a few words of command we leave a few men with our pack horses while the rest of us gallop down the ridge to the village about a mile away. I lead the men directly at the gringos attacking the village while the Great Danes head off toward the leaders with orders to take them alive if they can. The men with the pack horses will follow the dogs at a medium walking pace because we don’t want to lose our food by having it bounce out of the packs in a wild rush.

When we near the men we draw our shotguns as the men look up to see a group of white men charging down on them, some wave at us so maybe they think we’re here to help them. They all get a surprise when we reach them while spread out in a line. When we ride through the attackers we all open fire on them before wheeling around to attack again. Somehow two of the attackers weren’t hit on the first charge and are soon dealt with by those near them when we turn around. I leave my men to go through the enemy to make sure they’re dead while stripping them of valuables. Ramón takes ten men to collect the leaders who are on the ground with the dogs sitting on them while I head toward the village to see how they are and if they need any help.

The village chief is surprised we helped fight against the gringos. This is a village group of Chiricahua Apache going west who’d been jumped by the gringos only a short while ago. Luckily for them our scouts were still spreading out when they saw, from both sides of the road, a large group of white men heading this way. So they raced to the village and warned them, thus the opening attack did little harm.

Only two Indians need medical attention and then nothing major, just a quick clean and bandage for grazing wounds. I also treat three of my own men for similar wounds, and I’m thankful that’s all I have to treat. By then Ramón is there with the three leaders for questioning. They refuse to answer questions so I turn the most junior over to the Apache women for them to have some entertainment. After the other two listen to him screaming and see what’s happening they’re quick to decide to tell me all I wish to know in return for a quick death. The Cause current leaders in El Paso have no idea of why they can’t get any direction from senior people further north. They’re trying to lower land prices by stirring up Indian trouble so they’ve a couple of groups of very hard-core members out attacking the Indians. This is the second group sent out. I resolve to end this practice, and very fast.

We divide the spoils with quick ease: half of the horses each, we get the saddles and money, the Indians get the food, blankets, and weapons. I also take time to explain the range of my area of control and my rules about no one attacking anyone in the area to the chief and how we’ll respect their rights if they’ll respect the rights of others while passing through the area in peace. He pays close attention and he knows, from the fight, I mean what I’m saying. He promises to pass the word on.

When we ride out Ramón asks about me giving the man to the Indian women, and I explain, “Ramón, I needed to get information out of them. I needed to frighten them to do so as they expected me to take them into town and before a judge then to get off lightly. I had to convince them I was really going to kill them. Seeing me hand their friend over for torture did that. At the same time it convinced Chief Fast Horse I’m serious about respecting their traditions and rights, one of which is for the women to torture captured enemy prisoners. That man’s death wasn’t nice, but it did get me the information I needed and it’ll go a long way to convincing the Chiricahua Apache I mean what I say, then some will cease raiding within our borders. Any reduction there is worth it.” He nods in response while he thinks about what I’ve said and shown him on thinking about the long term effects of my actions.

We speed up our patrol to make up for the lost time. The visit to Las Cruces is a quick in and out to visit the bank and the Town Marshal. So is the stop at Fort Fillmore. We push our patrol to El Paso as fast as we can. Instead of taking the planned three and a bit days we arrive in the early evening of the second day after leaving Doña Anna. We’d ridden longer into the night and faster than we originally intended to.

El Paso

Riding into El Paso in the dark we stop at the first large cantina we find and we go in for a hot meal. We get a few stares from the locals when we enter the cantina: we’re a few gringos, a couple of Indians, and a large group of Mexicans with us all wearing the same coats and hats. The owner is happy to start serving food for seventy-eight men and some raw meat for the dogs, more so when I offer to pay full price in gold coin.

We have to spread out around the cantina to sit down and eat, so the men talk to the locals. The owner is a bit worried when I ask to speak with Señor Quinada, a very prominent and well respected local. It takes some convincing but he sends for him. We’re almost finished eating when several armed men walk in to look the place over. One leaves and a few more walk in before a well-dressed man enters.

I stand and hold out my hand, “Good evening, Señor Quinada, Señor Valdez said I should speak with you when I arrived in town.” He gives me a searching look so I move slowly when I reach into my pocket to get the letter I was given to hand him. He opens it and reads it.

Smiling, he waves me to sit down as he pulls up a chair. In a flash all of the tension in the room vanishes when he sits down. He speaks better English than I do Spanish so we talk in English. He tells me about a ranch outside of town where a large group of gringos are training in basic military manoeuvres and the men from the ranch beat up Mexicans and Indians when they can. The ranch is owned by a senior local leader in The Cause, and he’s very vocal in removing the Mexicans from any power in the local civic structure. One interesting point is because he’s so supportive of The Cause the rest of his family hate it and how it’s now dominating their lives. A very interesting point of attack to change the involvement there. We go on to discuss what else is happening around the town.

By the time I’m briefed it’s time for us to bed down in the stables next to the cantina. Señor Quinada is surprised when I go to sleep with the men, but he smiles when I point out we’re still a militia unit out on patrol despite being out of our area and now in Texas.

The next morning I send my scouts and five other men out to scout the ranch and the area between there and El Paso. I also take five men as guards while I visit the banks, saving one for last. Little time is lost with the first three banks when we exchange notes and cash. It’s funny, in the end we settle over a hundred thousand dollars of notes while only six thousand dollars in cash changes hands. Next is the Georgia Bank of El Paso. However, I visit the US Marshal’s Office first because I want a witness to this transaction.

I enter the bank and ask to see the manager to collect some notes on his bank. When I’m shown into the office I sit down and start listing all of the notes on his bank I’ve got. He goes white when he hears the total of one hundred and eighty-six thousand dollars and I want it all in cash. I already know he hasn’t got it because most of it’s notes for payments on behalf of The Cause he’s issued with many against security deposits instead of actual cash on hand. He’s not happy when he admits he can’t pay up. After a few words he signs the bank over to me and hands over the keys to the bank and his home.

The Marshal and I walk him home to check it for a safe. Finding one we open it and remove twenty thousand dollars in coin then we leave him there. He’s one of the lowest level members of The Cause from the future and he’s not involved in anything other than the banking. The Marshal accompanies me back to the bank to explain the new ownership to the staff while I sit in the office to check the books. We no sooner get started than a boy arrives with a message for the Marshal, the banker we just left, Matthews, has killed himself and his housekeeper is distraught about what to do. Before he leaves I hand the Marshal one of the federal handbills for Matthews and suggest he confirm the death then write up a note for the bounty in favour of the housekeeper since she’ll need some money. He likes the idea and he promises to do so. I also ask him to arrange for her to get the house, and he likes that idea too.

I send one of the bank staff out to get a good lawyer then I spend the time going through the books. My first thing is to start procedures to foreclose on all of the properties used as security for The Cause’s loans. Second is to write off as many of the bank notes against each other as possible. Last is to write off the bulk of the owner’s equity against the loans of small farmers forced into borrowing by The Cause.

In order to settle their debts two businesses involved in land buying and loans sign over sixty-five small property loans. The change in their overall financial status means they’ll be a long time getting organised to make any more loans, which is too long for their plans to work. I expect them to go under during the next two years.

By the time I’m finished at the bank all of the outstanding notes the bank has are returned and settled and I can now account for them. All of the small farm and ranch loans are paid off with the receipts issued. The housekeeper has Matthews’ house and she decides to run a boarding house. The bulk of the money I’m owed by this bank is now notes on other banks and about fifty thousand in cash in my saddlebags. I’m just about to sign the papers to change the name of the bank and put it in the hands of the staff when a young woman asks to speak to me.

Miss Burrows is at the bank on behalf of her family who run two small businesses in town: a restaurant and a clothing store. She’s asking for extra time to pay this month’s loan payment because they don’t have enough money until some clients pay their bills. I promise to think about it and to give her an answer later today. After she leaves I check their loan and finalise that from the owner’s equity before I sign the papers to change the bank name and hand it over to the staff.

It’s been a long day but very productive for me because I’ve made serious inroads into The Cause’s operations in the area. The bank is closed up and the staff are packing up for the day when there’s a knock on the back door. I watch when most of the staff grimace and one goes to open the door. Five men swagger in, three I know and two I don’t. They’ve heavy saddlebags and one I know says, “Tell Matthews to get his worthless arse out here.” The staff member looks at me and I smile while I wave him aside.

The man speaking, Majors, looks up, and frowns while he tries to place my face. Smiling back while I draw my two shoulder mounted Dragoons I say, “You were wrong, Majors, it wasn’t me headquarters meant for you to kidnap. It was my cousin.” His eyes go wide and I open fire while they all go for guns.

I smile when I notice the grins on the three tellers while they bring up their guns to open fire as well. I shoot Majors, Murdock, and Armstrong in the upper chest, any higher and it would’ve been the throat, while the tellers shoot the other two men. I get a few surprised looks when I exclaim about the excellent shots the tellers make in shooting the three leaders. I get a few smiles when I add, “It’s a good thing you three shot those three because you can claim the bounty money for them since I can’t.” I get out the handbills for them and they send for the Marshal while I move the saddlebags into my office.

The Marshal arrives and evaluates the situation, in a soft voice he says to me, “What’s the deal? I know they can’t shoot that well, so it had to be you. Why give them the credit?”

I smile and pull my US Marshal badge out of my pocket, saying, “I’m a special Deputy Marshal from New Mexico down here doing a run to sort out bank notes and cash before the lack of available cash causes too much trouble. I can’t get any bounties so what’s wrong in letting them get them since they did get involved in the shooting. Who’s to know who actually shot who.” He smiles and nods his agreement.

The Marshal says, “You’re lucky to catch me, I was about to leave to try and find out about an Army payroll robbery. Ten men killed five troopers and took nearly twenty thousand in gold coin.” I smile and sign for him to follow me while I wonder how much is in the saddlebags. I call two tellers over and we count the money. Nineteen thousand, six hundred and fifty dollars; an exact match for the amount stolen.

I look up at the Marshal, “It seems like you solved this case real quick.” He smiles and laughs when he realises he has. He has the tellers lock the money in the vault until the Army can come to collect it. The trooper sent to get the Marshal is surprised to be told to report five of the robbers are dead and the money is already recovered.

Taking my own saddlebags I hand the papers to the bank staff and leave the bank while they read them. My next stop is the restaurant for a tasty meal for me and my five guards. We sit down and enjoy a delicious steak dinner.

When I pay for the meal I hand a piece of paper to Miss Burrows and say, “I do hope this is enough to pay for our dinner?” She gives me a frown and opens the paper to read it. Gulping, she steps back and leans against the wall. Her mother is serving tables and races over to see what’s up. She takes the paper and reads it, with a similar response. “I examined the records and made some enquiries. I think you were forced into the loan by immoral actions by the bank and others, so I’ve paid out the loan from the bank’s equity account. I hope you don’t mind?” They both give slow nods while they start to cry. I place a ten dollar coin on the counter to pay for our meals and we leave.

Ambushed

When I reach the cantina I find five gringos sitting together in one corner being ignored by the Mexicans. I sit down with my scouting group to get a briefing on their day. They mention the five gringos are from the ranch. I smile when I tell my men they still have to set up camp in the field outside of town before they can settle down and relax for the evening. Grumbling, they leave to set out the tents while they complain about the horses getting to stay in the stables while they have to sleep in the open. While they do that task I sit there watching all around me and sip some beer. Señor Quinada drops in to visit and he tells me how much happier people are with the changes they’ve seen today.

I smile when I hand him a bunch of papers as I say, “Will you please see these get handed out to the right people. One of the things I’ve done today is to use The Cause funds I’ve received to write off the debts of most of the small farmers in the area. These are the receipts for final payment with the papers signing the deeds back to them. All duly stamped and registered. They just have to be handed out. Please see they get handed out before they come in to make their next payment.” He’s stunned and gives a big smile while he promises to have men out doing that tomorrow. I warn him to make sure they travel in strong groups so they won’t get waylaid. He nods agreement and leaves a happy man after stopping to speak with a couple of people in the cantina and he gives them some papers. Despite the five gringos from the ranch there’s now a very festive mood in the cantina.

After setting up the camp my men return to join in the happy fun, and they’re all rolling around drunk when they make their way back to camp about midnight. I follow while I shake my head and see they get into their tents OK before entering mine.

About twenty minutes later one of my scouts sneaks in to say the five gringos have gone back to the ranch. We’re quick and quiet while we wake the camp. Everyone does up their blankets like they’re still in them and two volunteers take on the job of pretending to be slack guards while the rest of us head into the surrounding scrub with our weapons.

Half an hour later another scout returns to tell me the raiders from the ranch are on the way. He overheard their plans and they intend to just ride through the camp shooting everyone in it. We tell everyone what they plan and we expect them to come from the road since the camp is beside the road.

After another twenty minutes a slow quiet column of men moves down the road. They draw level with the camp and turn toward it. One man moves to the front and draws a sabre to hold it aloft. He lowers the sword and they all charge at the camp firing into the tents and blankets. I wait a moment then I give out a very loud howl. The surrounding brush comes alive with fire when nearly eighty shotguns fire at once, most of the attackers fall from their horses while some return fire into the brush. Another volley of shotgun fire and only one wounded man is still on his horse, a single blast from near the road when he heads that way and he’s unseated. We stay as we are and wait while we hear some moans and groans from the field.

I give a yip and the sergeants move around to check on the men there’s some more movement while a few are being helped to the cantina. I leave Ramón in charge and go to the cantina. We’ll wait for daylight to inspect the field so some men stay to watch it while the rest go to sleep in the stables again. When I walk down the road to the cantina I’m met by the US Marshal, the County Sheriff, and the Town Marshal.

When they ask what’s happening I say, “A large group of men rode into camp shooting it up. My men responded with controlled volley fire from shotguns, as per their training, and the attackers are down. We’re waiting for daylight before inspecting the field. I’ve wounded in the cantina I need to attend to.” They nod and follow me into the cantina.

This time we aren’t so lucky: two men dead, three with serious wounds, and six with light wounds. The five men trained as field nurses deal with the light wounds after I check them and confirm the diagnosis and treatment. I treat the serious wounds, although bad they aren’t fatal with good treatment - which they get. They’ll live with little permanent effect; but two won’t be able to ride as militia any more. I won’t risk a man with that bad a leg wound in the field, but we’ll find them some useful work on the hacienda.