Chapter 1

It was just getting dark as I rode into the little town of Bloody Gulch, Texas. I was barely in time to make my appointment with my friend and old riding companion, Jake Holbein. Jake had written me a letter to meet him at the Double Eagle saloon at sundown on June 16, 1875. I was between jobs, meaning that I had been out of work for about six months, when I got the letter from Jake. I sent him a telegram saying that I would be there, knowing that Jake would do the right thing by me, so I did not need to ask about the wages and such.

I am a top-notch gun hand, so I expect to be paid no less than $100 per month and found (room and board). I ain't especially particular about who I shoot, as long as it's a man what's carrying a gun. I do draw the line at shooting women and kids, unless they start shooting at me first.

The lights were already lit inside the saloon when I got to the butterfly doors, so I was able to give the place a quick scan before I walked in. Jake wasn't there, yet, but there seemed to be a crowd of what I would call "hard-cases."

Never letting my back get turned to the crowd until I could see all of them in the mirror behind the bar, I walked up and ordered a beer. I asked about some supper, and the bartender said that he had day-old chili that he could warm up, or he could fix me a steak sandwich. I told them I was hungry enough to eat both of them, and he told me to have a seat at a table. He'd have the swamper deliver my supper to me as soon as it was ready. I picked up my beer and found an empty table where my back was to the wall and I could see the whole saloon.

The food was delivered in a reasonable time and I tipped the swamper a nickel for his efforts. He looked surprised and thanked me as he walked away. The food tasted surprisingly good, especially the chili, and I enjoyed it. My timing was perfect on finishing up as Jake walked in just as I took my last bite of the sandwich.

Jake had four men with him, and they looked just like the hard-cases that I saw when I first came into the saloon. I stood up when I saw him, and Jake waved to me as he sent the four men to the bar. We shook hands and spent about half an hour reminiscing about old times. Finally, curiosity got the better of me and I asked, "So, Jake, what do you need me for? From the looks of things, all of these hard-cases in this here bar look like they work for you, and I see a dozen of them. I don't see what I could add to the party."

"Well, my friend, I ain't never seen a situation where Jim Walters couldn't add to the mix. Everybody in this part of Texas knows that you have the keenest shooting eye and fastest draw for many miles around. Right now, I have a deal going that is going to make me the biggest cattle Baron in this end of Texas. There is a little range war cooking, and I need you to lead the troops."

"Hell, Jake, I ain't never been involved in a range war before, and I ain't so sure that I like the idea right now. It seems to me that a lot of innocents get killed in a range war, and you know how I feel about that."

"Come on, Jim! I need you, and I'm willing to make you rich if you join me. I know you ain't got no job right now, and I doubt that you have much in the way of prospects. Ain't many people with money to spend, nowadays, but I'm one of the people what has money to spend. You tie up with me, and I can guarantee that you will be rolling in money by this time next year. Come on, what do you say?"

"Dammit, Jake, you know me better than that! You know I do not react well when people put pressure on me. Give me a day to make up my mind, and I'll probably come crawling to you for that job with my tail between my legs. In the meantime, back off a little bit, and let's talk about old times over a beer."

"Look, Jim, I have still got some more business I need to transact tonight, so give me a pass on that beer and come on out to my ranch later tonight. I will put you up for the night, and you can give me your answer sometime tomorrow."

Well, I know when I have been dismissed, so I stood up and walked to the bar for another beer. I had not quite gotten to the bar when a man came in what looked like he was at his wit's end. He kind of staggered over to Jake and said, "Jake Holbein, you are the meanest bastard I ever heard of! I have a wife and daughter that I won't be able to support if you grab my ranch! I have told you before that you cannot have it, so back off before somebody gets killed!"

"See here, Abner Johnson! Be careful what you call me, especially in my town when I am surrounded by my friends. I am going to get your ranch one way or the other. If necessary, it will be over your dead body, and that of your wife and daughter. Now, sell the Circle J to me for my last offer, or I will just take it from you."

Abner Johnson waved his finger at Jake and said, "There ain't no way I am going to sell my ranch to you! I am leaving this here saloon, and I hope I never see you again."

Johnson turned to leave and Jake nodded his head. Four men standing near Jake pulled their guns and emptied them into Abner Johnson's body. The man was chopped to ground beef by so many bullets hitting him at once. He fell on the floor, and Jake said, "Brace, take care of it."

Some man, one of the hard-cases nodded his head and walked over to Johnson's body. He rolled the corpse over, and took out the man's six-shooter. He put the gun in Johnson's hand and walked out of the room. Everybody returned to drinking beer or whatever they had been doing before Johnson came into the saloon. About 15 minutes later, Brace came back with a man what had a marshal's badge pinned to his shirt.

The marshal said, "I see you had a little trouble here, Mr. Holbein. I see from Johnson's gun that it was a case of self-defense. You just pitch the body out into the street and I'll have the undertaker pick it up tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, Marshal. We will do what you say. Here, buy yourself a beer for your trouble." Jake handed the marshal a Double Eagle and acted like he didn't expect to get any change.

Jake took a piece of paper out of a folder he had and wrote something on it. I couldn't see what he wrote, but I would bet almost any amount of money that he had put Abner Johnson's name on a bill of sale. Right then, Jake Holbein made up my mind about what I was going to do, but I didn't say anything to him. I just nursed my beer and made sure to keep an eye on the hard-cases. What I planned to do would have got me shot if they knew what I had in mind.

A few minutes later, Brace had some of his cronies pitch Abner Johnson's body into the street. They left it there and strolled back into the saloon. I gave everybody a little while to settle down before I walked out of the saloon. My horse was tied to the hitching rail in front of the saloon, and there was one other horse tied there—it had a Circle J brand on it, so I figured that it belonged to Abner Johnson.

Trying to make as little noise as possible, I tied Abner's body across his saddle and rode away from the saloon. I got lucky as I rode away from the Double Eagle saloon—I happened to see a man walking down the sidewalk, so I asked for directions to the Circle J ranch. He told me what I needed and I rode away. I don't know if he paid attention to what was tied to the saddle of the horse I was leading, but he didn't comment so I let it drop.

I made it all away out of town without attracting attention, so I figured that I would keep riding what appeared to be a lucky streak. I wasn't sure what I was letting myself in for, but I figured that Jake Holbein was doing something that I just couldn't cotton to. I knew Jake pretty well, so I figured that the murder of Abner Johnson was typical of the way he had been acquiring property. I couldn't abide murder of the sort I had seen tonight, so I figured I'd deliver the body to its home and then get my ass well away from Bloody Gulch.