Chapter 3

When Bob came too after this jump he found himself laying in the middle of a dusty street with a half dozen men and two women standing or kneeling beside him. He could hear gunfire in the distance. There was a small pack in the dirt beside him. He was dressed in ragged, threadbare clothes singed by the explosion. Blood was trickling from a wound on his head and he felt as if he had been hit by a sledgehammer.

One of the women knelt beside him and began cleaning his cut while the man beside her said, “Are ye ok sonny? I never seed no one fly as far as you done when that there horse run ya down.”

“I do not know. What happened?”

“Why them fellers was a robbin’ tha bank and ye musta run right in front o them when they took off down tha street. They jus’ run ye over. Ya musta bin movin’ right fast because ya wasn’t there then we seed ya flyin’ away after they run ya down.”

The woman and another man helped Bob to his feet, guided and supported him while he staggered over to a bench in front of a saloon. He sat down with a groan, almost a scream, and slumped down, resting his forearms on his knees and thighs. He looked around and saw an old frontier town if he was any judge. He wasn’t sure, of course, of the day and year so decided to bite the bullet and asked, “Where am I and what day is it?”

The man and woman looked at each other and shook their heads before she said, “Why you’re in Colorado City son although some folks’er callin’ it Colorado Springs now. It is June 24th 1887. How could ya not know that? Are ya sure ya are alright?”

“Yes ma’am. I am fine. I hoped I was in Colorado Springs but I wasn’t sure. I been moving since it got warm in late March. I didn’t know the day because I been out and about so long I done lost track.”

The woman relaxed somewhat, sighed and said, “Oh. I have heared other men say things like that. You look awfully young to be traipsin’ around all alone like you are. How old are you son?”

Bob thought a moment and looked down at his body. He looked younger than he had been in his other locations. He decided to go easy on the facts and try to say whatever would seem to fit the times as best as he could. Finally, as the woman began to look worried, he said, “I do not rightly know Ma’am. I believe I am 15 or 16 but my pappy was a drinker and he was not rightly sure. Mam died when I was jus’ a youngin and Pap and my sisters raised me. Pap, he died after my sisters married and left home, aheadin’ to Californy I heard. There was not anything left for me at home after Pap died so I decided to come west and make my fortune.”

“Well, you’re in no shape to do anything right now. You come on inside with me and we will see what we can do to hep ya for a day or two. Maybe Sam will have something ya can do if ya needs work.”

“Thank ya kindly ma’am,” Bob said as he stood and followed what he now thought was probably a ‘soiled dove’ (Whore) into the saloon.

The man behind the bar looked up when they entered and said, “About time ya got here Mable. One a them fellers over there was askin’ for ya.”

Mable smiled and said, “Thank ya Sam. This here’s ... Oh, I do not know his name. This young man was run down by them robbers and I helped him in here. I told him ya might have work for him if he needed some. I know Timmy done left so’s ya needs a new swamper.” After she said that, she turned and began an exagerated sexy walk toward the men in the back of the room. When she got near them she said, “Hello fellas. I hear ya been askin’ fer me?”

One of the men reached out and grabbed her, pulling her onto his lap. She squealed and let him plop her down before she wrapped her arm around him and bent to give him a kiss.

Bob turned back to the bar and looked at himself in the mirror while he eyed the bartender. He didn’t recognize himself at all. He saw a dirty, scrawny young man with long hair and decrepit clothes staring back at him. He could ‘feel’ strange memories in his head underlying his own. It looked as if this time he had traveled into someone else’s body when he jumped.

The bartender looked at Bob and said, “I need a swamper. Twenty five cents a day, ya sleep in the back room and I will feed ya. Take it or leave it.”

Bob didn’t take long to think about the offer. He decided to take it until he got his feet under him and figured out what to do now. He said, “I will take it, thank ya kindly sir.”

“Well, take yer things into the back and find the broom. Clean the floor in here then wash out these mugs here, check tha spittoons. We open at 8 in the morning and close when the men leave.”

“Yes sir.”

Bob spent the rest of the day moving slowly. He was dizzy from the blow on the head and his whole body hurt from the hit by the horse and his fall into the street. The next two days weren’t much better. He became friendly with Sam and Mable, learning about the area from them and what he overheard during the customer’s conversations. He also suffered from the bully’s that came and went. It seemed it was great fun to pick on the swamper, him being younger than them and, usually, much weaker.

To Bob’s surprise, he noticed several people around using what was called magic in the other two times or places in which he lived. He also found he could listen in on their mental processes, their thoughts, in many cases. He could tell, usually just before it happened, when someone was going to pick on him or do something. He became good at avoiding those attacks. He was able to use his own abilities to prevent injury too.

During his trips around town on errands or for his personal needs Bob noticed several Indians (native Americans) coming and going. They acted like and were treated like anyone else on the street which he thought was strange given his memory of the way they were treated in his past. He saw a troop of cavalry come down the street one day and nearly half of the troopers were native American, including the officer leading.

The day he saw the cavalry, he found the time to ask Mable about them. She seemed shocked he would make a big thing about it and only marginally accepted his statement that he was just surprised because where he came from many had treated the Indians badly. They spent several minutes talking about past history of the country. He was pretty sure she didn’t accept his statement he just hadn’t had any schooling to learn some of the things of which he was ignorant.

One example was a comment he made about a civil war. Apparently, there had been no civil war in this country and slavery had been almost non existent. There were very few colored people ever brought into the Americas and consequently, it was rare to even see a black person. There were several Chinese, hispanics and, of course, native Americans however and she swore they were all treated equally. This conversation caused Bob to spend a lot of time reading papers and visiting the admittedly poorly stocked library researching his new home.

One day, Bob heard a couple of the men talking about a small town called Cripple Creek up in the mountains west and a little south of town. This jogged his memory about the town from his own time. Cripple Creek and a town near it called Victor, were in one of the largest gold producing areas of the United States in his reality. If he remembered correctly there was a large find at a place called Battle Mountain. The first gold was found near there in the early 1890 time frame. He decided he’d work and save here all winter and take off in the spring of 1888 for Cripple Creek. Maybe he could find some gold before the big discovery and make enough to at least live on while he was here. After this jump he decided he wasn’t apt to stay here much longer than he had in the other places he ended up. It seemed there was a limit to how long he hung around.

By cold weather, Bob was an accepted fixture in the saloon and the regulars sort of adopted him. He picked up some extra coin from running errands for them and for the whores that worked out of the saloon. He even managed to get a little pussy from time to time. His first pussy there was as a reward for helping Mable. One of her john’s was being rough with her and Bob stepped in.

Bob heard Mable screaming and crying up in her room and a man yelling. He ran upstairs to the rooms and opened her door to find the man hitting her. He said, “Lissen whore. I done paid ya to fuck me. Ya never said I hadta use yer pussy. i’magonna take yer ass and ya’re not agonna stop me.”

Mable was laying on the bed crying while her nose bled. Bob said, “She may not be able to stop you but I can. Get your ass out of here NOW!”

The man turned and began to laugh when he saw Bob. He said, “You little runt. you’re not big enough to stop me either. Now get your ass out of here before I gets mad and kills ya. I paid for a piece a her ass and I am gonna have it.”

“No ya are not. You gave up that right when ya hit her. And do not even think about taking your money back. She gets to keep it because of the beatin’ ya gave her.

Bob had been practicing his self defense and exercising ever since he arrived. He knew he wasn’t in top shape and wasn’t as strong as he had been in his other lives but he had the knowledge and theory so believed he could take the man. When he stepped farther into the room the man charged at him. Bob brushed his fist aside, slid aside and behind him then grabbed his chin with one hand and the back of his head with the other. He gave a quick, hard twist and heard the satisfying but stomach churning crack. The man dropped at his feet and didn’t move.

Just after the man dropped Sam and one of the men who worked for him came into the room. They saw Mable on the bed and the man laying at Bob’s feet dead. Sam said, “What happened Bob?”

“That asshole was tryin’ ta corn hole Mable and she told him no. He hit her and was tryin’ ta force her when I got here. I told him to get out and he came for me so I had to take him down.”

By then, the man with Sam had checked the man. He stood and looked at Bob strangely before he turned to Sam and said, “His neck’s broke. He is not going to bother no one again.”

Sam looked at Bob and said, “Do ya know who that was Bob?”

“No, should I?”

“Well maybe not but this could be trouble. That there is the Ox. I never heared him called anything else but he runs with the Tompkin’s and they do not take kindly to anyone what messes with them or their men. We will try to make this look like an accident but if this gets out we will have trouble. You best get what ya wants offa him so we can get rid of tha body.”

Sam and the other man pulled the Ox out of the room and carried him part way down the back stairs where they gave him a toss, letting him tumble the rest of the way down. Hopefully when he was found his death would be considered an accident since his body was hung up on the stairs and his neck was broken. It might be considered a robbery because his pockets were empty and his weapons gone but that might have been done after he died too. They went back into the upper area of the saloon, down the hallway and down the interior stairs to the bar room.

After they left, Bob went to help Mable clean up. He used what knowledge he had of medicine to check her. He said, “I will go downstairs and get some whiskey to clean your wounds. You need to take it easy the rest of the night and maybe tomorrow from the looks of things.”

“I cannot do that. I need to work so I can pay Sam. How do you know about doctorin’ anyway? You act like you know a lot about it.”

“Well ma’am, before he took to the bottle my Pap said he was a doctor. I do not rightly know but some folks paid him to doctor them of times. I just learnt some things from him when I would see him doctorin’ folks.” He reached into his pocket and handed her $5.00 in silver dollars before continuing, “Here, take this to help ya out whilst ya heal.”

“I cannot do that! Ya earned that money and ya needs it too.”

“Mable, that is only part of what I got from tha Ox. Consider it pay fer what he done ta ya.”

“Well if ya puts it like that. Thank ya kindly Bob.”

Three days later Mable called Bob to her room early in the morning. She was naked when he knocked on the door. She told him to come in and when he saw her, he said, “Oh, I am sorry Mable. I thought ya said to come in.” He turned and started to close the door.

“Bob,” she said. “I did say come in. I want to reward ya for helpin’ me when the Ox was whalin’ on me. I do not have much money so I thought ya might be interested in a little sportin’. You ever been with a woman honey?”

Well, of course Bob had been very sexually active in his past but from the time he arrived there all he had for sexual satisfaction was Rosy Palm and her five sisters. He felt his cock jump when she made the offer and said, “Yes’m I have but I sure could use some more. It has been a while and I have about rubbed my pecker off usin’ my hands. I have been saving my money so I can go a traipsin’ come summer and did not want to spend money on pussy if I could keep from it.”

“Well ya just come on in here and let me treat ya Bob.”

Bob came into the room and closed the door then almost jumped out of his clothes. He really wanted to eat some pussy but he knew Mable, indeed most people of this time, very rarely bathed. When he looked at her crotch he could see semen caked in her pussy hair and the smell almost made him gag. He decided he’d forego that pleasure and wondered if he dared sink his cock into her cesspool. He finally remembered the clap and syphilis were the main two STD’s in this time. He examined her as closely as he could and didn’t see any outward signs of syphilis so decided to take the chance.

Bob did suck on her neck, nipples and a few other erogenous zones he found causing her to writhe and moan in pleasure. Finally she grabbed him and tried to pull him over her as she said, “God Damnit. Enough already. Get over here and fuck me you asshole.”

Bob smiled and complied with her demand but he didn’t just drop into the saddle and pound one out, satisfying himself and leaving her hanging. Of course, that wasn’t possible anyway as she had already had several orgasms before she demanded he fuck her. Bob was pounding away and Mable was crying and screaming as she moved through orgasms. She hit a large one and screamed as loudly as she could. Just as Bob’s orgasm hit, he heard the door slam open. Mable was screaming and pulling him tighter to her with her arms and legs. Bob tried to get off her but couldn’t break her hold. He turned his head to the door and saw Sam standing there, his mouth hanging open, as he watched Bob finish in Mable.

Sam said, “Well I’ll be damned. I never. Are ya alright there Mable?”

“SAM! Get your mangy ass out of here. ‘Course I am alright. Bob and I was just asportin’ as ya can see. Now get outta here. I am not through rewarding’ him fer helpin’ me t’other day.”

Sam grinned as he closed the door and said, “You get’er there Bob.”

When Bob came downstairs to begin his work he was met by a saloon full of men whistling and making cat calls and lewd remarks. He had attained almost hero status with the men because of his tryst with Mable. Some had heard her squealing, others had heard about it (of course the tale grew as it passed through town) and he became a celebrity for making her scream with his cock.

More to his surprise was the way the three Indians in the saloon treated him. When he walked past their table one of them reached out and stopped him. At first Bob was slightly worried there might be trouble although he couldn’t imagine why there would be. The Brave said, “You made the squaw scream with your pole. Does this happen often?”

Bob felt a mental nudge when the question was asked and automatically set up a block. He watched the Indian’s eyes open in surprise when he did so. “Many times I can do it but I do not think it is any of your business nor is it the business of these others either.”

“I hear them call you Bob. This is your white name?”

“Yes. Bob Throckmorton.”

Once again the three showed surprise and smiled widely. Bob moved on, doing his work and wondering about the strange conversation. The next time he looked toward the table at which the Indians sat, they were gone.

After the other two whores working in the saloon heard about his prowess in bed they contrived to try Bob out. They found he was an outstanding and considerate lover and between them and Mable, he didn’t go without pussy the rest of the winter. Most times when he bedded them they ended up screaming out their pleasure and Bob returned to the Saloon to more ribald remarks and teasing. He noticed, over the winter, a larger number of Indians frequenting the saloon than had done so when he first arrived.

Sometimes one or the other of the women just wanted some quality loving and invited him up for a freebie. Other times they offered pussy as payment for a favor. Usually, Bob accepted the offered pussy and they all enjoyed it. It became a running joke in the saloon, indeed, it even brought in some small amount of business because the men hoped to hear one of the whores screaming out her pleasure with Bob between her legs. He was looked upon with some amount of respect because of his bedroom powers.

Finally, the weather began to warm up and Bob decided to begin his trek into the mountains, headed for Cripple Creek. He promised the girls and Sam he would be back, at least for the winter, if or when he was in the area.

Bob hadn’t made enough money to buy a horse or mule so he had to walk, carrying his worldly goods in a large pack. He did have a decent pistol and knife, thanks to the ‘donation’ of the Ox. It was accepted practice in those times, if you killed a man in self defense, you could take whatever you wanted from the body. Bob did so, keeping the items he gained well hidden in case any of his friends should see and recognize them. In that manner, he gained the pistol and belt, knife, and $18.47 in cash. The day he fought the Ox, he gave Mable $5.00 to compensate her for the injury and to tide her over until she could work once more and added the rest to his stash but even having done that he had almost $40.00 to buy supplies with.

It was about 50 miles from Colorado Springs to Cripple Creek according to the men Bob talked to while planning his journey. There were roads or trails to follow or he could try to go cross country which was shorter but much more difficult, therefore it would take longer. He opted to follow the roads. He figured walking would take about a week assuming he had no trouble. After he arrived in town he’d have to get the lay of the land, as it were and strike out for where he hoped to find the gold.