Chapter 4

Ada and I went back on the road as soon as the weather cooperated. Things seemed to be back to normal when Ada signaled that there was trouble ahead. I was probably a little slow to respond, but she had given me plenty of warning, so there were no bad repercussions. The problem turned out to be just another road agent waiting in the bushes for a victim to come along.

He was holding a shotgun at the ready, and it was cocked and just asking to be fired. Well, I spotted him first and did not hesitate to shoot as soon as I had reached a favorable position. One shot from my shotgun-pistol was enough to settle the issue, and I whistled for Ada to join me. Dammit, had I not called for her when I did, I probably would not be writing this.

She showed up just as another galoot came riding out of the bushes, and he was also holding a shotgun. The difference was that Ada let out a bray that made me look around, and I saw the galoot before he saw me. I had to draw again, but the other guy was holding the reins with one hand, and he had to drop them to be able to use both hands on a shotgun which had a conventional barrel. The result was that I had a fraction of a second to react, and I was able to plug the new arrival before he could point his shotgun at me.

This was one of those rare occasions when I had to fire two shells because the first one only hit the other guy’s shotgun. In the process, I took off the man’s hand and part of his forearm, but that distracted him enough for me to get in my second shot at his chest. That shot went where I had intended the first one to go. Now I had sort of an embarrassment of riches.

I had screwed up this morning and had come away from the boarding house with only one cloth sack, and now I had two heads to deliver to the nearest marshal. Oh, well, I managed to cope with the difficulty. The two heads took up so much of the sack that I had no room for a third one if I should get so lucky.

I cut off the heads and dropped them in the sack. I tied the sack to the saddle of the first horse. A full search of the two bodies was kind of messy because of all of the blood that had been sprayed about. I wound up with so much blood on me that I looked like the loser of a gunfight. Fortunately, I came away with enough gold and silver coins that I could buy a whole new set of clothes if the Chinese laundry could not get these clean.

Both road agents turned out to have a $35 bounty on their heads, so there was no way I was not going to take them in for identification. Also, I got over $100 from the two men in cash, and their horses and weapons were going to net me another $50 or so. In other words, this trip was already enough to net me a good income for the week. Anything else I managed to collect this week was just gravy for the morning biscuits.

I took care of business and went by the boarding house to change clothes before taking my bloody stuff to the Chinese laundry where I usually traded. When I walked in, two men were already there, and they were up to no good. They were beating on the man who owned the operation and demanding money. I dropped my bundle of clothes and waded in.

Ever since my school days, I had the reputation as a scrappy fighter, and I had lost nothing as I aged. I grabbed one of the attackers by the scruff of the neck and spun him around. As soon as he was facing me, I kicked him as hard as I could in the balls. I must of done something right because he screamed bloody murder and fell to the floor, holding his crotch with both hands. To be sure that he would not be a problem later, I kicked him in the head over his left ear and knocked him cold.

The little man that they had been beating on was a good fighter, too. Now that he had only one man to contend with, he got in some solid licks with his hands in a fighting style that I had never seen before. He never used his fists, but always hit his attacker with the edge of his hand or his fingers, and he was doing such a good job that I had to step back and admire his handiwork. In fact, he was such a good fighter that I figured that he could have taken care of both of the larger men if I had minded my own business.

In any case, the fight was soon over, and both of the attackers were lying on the floor out cold. I stuck my head out the door and spotted a deputy marshal down the street. He came right away when I yelled for him. The Chinaman explained that the two men had attacked him when he refused to give them his daily receipts. He only had $1.78, and that had to pay his family’s expenses for the day. I backed up his story, and the deputy arrested the two men, mostly on my say-so.

The Chinaman thanked me for my help, and I asked him about the way he was fighting. He said that he had spent some time at a Shaolin temple before leaving China, and they had taught him the basics of the way he was fighting. It looked like such an effective way of fighting that I almost asked for lessons from him, but I figured that I did not really need that as long as I had my guns or my Bowie knife. Anyway, I left my clothes with him, and he promised to have them ready for me in two days.

The next day, Ada and I were back on the road, but we failed to come up with anything. The rest of the week was like that, and I wondered if I needed to move to a new territory. I really did not want to do that, but I would have to if the pickings stayed this slim. I did not want to leave Dallas because I knew the place well, and I enjoyed living here.

I was saved from moving away from Dallas in a round-about way. One of my contacts among the whores sent me a message that she had something interesting for me, but she wanted to deliver the message personally, so she wanted me to visit her where she worked. That was no problem because I often dropped by that particular brothel when I felt the need, so I was comfortable going there. I knew the madam and all of the working girls, so it would be a pleasant visit if nothing else came from it.

When I got there, very quickly I wound up talking to the madam, Lois Huntley. “Howdy, Bob? I have a problem I hope you can help me with. I was visited two days ago by a couple of big galoots who wanted me to pay them for protection. They did not say who or what they would be protecting me from, but I figured that they would be the troublemakers. I checked with the Marshal’s office, and they said that they could not do anything until some law was broken.

“Hell, I could not wait for that because it could mean that some of my girls could be hurt. Not only would that be bad for business, but I would hate for any of the girls to be harmed. Those galoots looked like they were big enough to do a lot of damage. They scared me, and I ain’t sure what to do.

“I want to hire you to protect me and my business from people like that. Can you do that, and how much would you charge me? Those bastards wanted $25 a week for their protection, and there ain’t no way I can afford that.”

“Well, Lois, it kind of depends on what kind of protection you want from me. I make about $150 a week from my bounty work, so I would need that much to keep me going. From what you say, I would bet that you ain’t the only one who was approached by these galoots. If all of you brothel owners got together and hired me, I am sure that y’all could come up with that much money. Would y’all be willing to do that?”

“Yeah, I guess so. I will have to talk to the other madams to find out if they are interested in joining up to hire you to put a stop to this. It is a cinch that none of us can do it on our own. If 10 of us madams got together and chipped in $15 a week, we could make your requirement of $150. The problem is that it may take me more than a week to contact everybody.”

“Look, let us try this—if those galoots come back, pay them the $25 they are demanding, and that will give us some time to work something out. I will get your $25 back from them one way or another. This is Wednesday, so I would expect them to show up on Monday wanting their payment. I will hang around here on Monday and follow them around if they do show up. That way, I will know how many whorehouses they are going after and where their headquarters is. From that I will know better what to do. If they get rough on Monday, I will be here to take care of it. How does that sound?”

“That sounds good enough for me. Thanks for helping out. They could drive me out of business real easy if word got around that it was dangerous to show up here. I hope that you can stop them pretty quick. I will see you on Monday.”

This conversation got me to thinking. I wondered if all of the brothels in Dallas could use this kind of protection? If so, then it could be a profitable business for somebody like me. The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. I knew that I could not go on forever chasing road agents—hell, one could plug me at any time.

On the other hand, I could set up a business of providing a guard for each whorehouse and supervise the whole thing. If I could get $15 a week from 10 whore houses, I could pay some employee $7 per week and pocket the other $8 a week. That would give me $80 per week, and I would not be shot at. Of course, there would be other expenses that would have to come out of that $80, but I could get by comfortably on $40 per week. The more I think about it, the better it sounds! I even had a name for my company: Harris Protection Agency.

I got a message on Friday from a different brothel asking me to stop by. I did and heard the same story. The madam said that she had been contacted by Lois Huntley about forming a group to hire me. She said that she was ready to join in if I meant what I said about looking after them. I assured her that I was a man of my word, and she agreed to join the group.

By the time I showed up at the Huntley brothel, the group had grown to 12. Uh-oh, this thing could get out of hand real quick. I was going to need help right away at the rate this thing was going. Nevertheless, I was now looking at a steady $180 per week, and that was too good to pass up. I told the women that I was taking the job, and they would officially be dealing with the Harris Protection Agency. My current plan was to be available whenever I was needed, but I was also going to station a guard at each brothel to take care of any and all disturbances. In other words, he would be a bouncer, and that was something new for all but one of the whorehouses. This would happen as soon as I could hire that many reliable men.