Chapter 12

New Mexico Territory, July, 1894

I didn't really have much hope for the bank robbery story, but I might as well check it out as I did not have anything else to follow up on. I left town at a slow trot, a pace my mare could keep for hours, if necessary. Never the less, I did stop every two hours to let her rest; you never knew when you would need a fresh horse. There is a lot to chase you out here in the high desert besides the wind.

In the distance, I saw another lone rider headed in pretty much the same direction as me. I checked him out as best I could with my binoculars; at this distance, he looked like a Mexican. He might be a bandit, or he might be a man heading home after an honest season's work. I wasn't afraid of a lone bandit, especially one I got this much notice on, so I turned toward him. A little company in this lonely place was a comfort.

When I got close enough, he waved and called out, "Buenos dias, amigo."

I waved back and answered, "Good day to you, too, my friend. Where are you headed?"

"Ah, señor, I am joyfully headed home after a Spring of working on a ranch just north of here. I have sent enough money home that I can spend the rest of the year working my own little place and enjoying life with my family."

"Congratulations, señor, you are indeed a fortunate man! Since we appear to be headed in the same general direction, May I join you for a while?"

"Yes, I would like that. Conversation eats up the lonely miles," he smiled and said.

We rode along in pleasant conversation for an hour or so, when shots rang out. I felt a pull on my hat and heard a bullet whiz by, too close for comfort. We both looked around, and Juan shouted, "There they are!" He pointed to four men sitting on horses and pointing carbines at us.

We whirled about and raced to find cover. We came to a small arroyo and rode in. We jumped off our horses and pulled our rifles from their scabbards. Juan took the left and I took the right as we both dashed to the bank for protection. We hardly reached our positions when our attackers showed up.

There was no time spent in conversation! Juan and I blazed away at our pursuers, more to make them stop than expecting to hit anyone. Juan did get in a lucky hit?one of the men dropped his carbine and grabbed at his leg. The men dismounted as quickly as they could and tried to find cover. The ground was somewhat uneven, so that they were not completely exposed to our fire, but they were not completely hidden, either.

The wounded man tied a crude tourniquet around his leg and took up his rifle. Unfortunately for him, when he dropped his rifle, he had gotten some dirt in the barrel and he did not notice it in the ensuing excitement. The first time he fired, his rifle barrel exploded, killing him.

After only a moment of distraction, the remaining three assailants resumed shooting at us. They would have been better served to try to escape, since we were now in a virtually unassailable defensive position, while they were woefully exposed. Juan and I slowed our shooting to a careful, measured fire by which we tried to pick off our attackers without exposing any more of ourselves than was absolutely necessary. On the other hand, the other side was forced to blaze away at us in the forlorn hope of keeping us from shooting at them, at all.

This time it was my turn; I managed to hit one of the attackers in the head and kill him immediately. The remaining two men must have seen how hopeless their position was, because they began a slow retreat.

Just at this time, one of those damned sand storms came up and blotted out all vision beyond about twenty feet. Juan and I, and our horses, were reasonably protected from the wind and sand by being in the arroyo, but we could not see our enemies. Fortunately, they could not see us, either. When the sand storm abated about an hour later, the two attackers remaining alive were gone, but they had left behind the two dead men.

Juan and I cautiously approached the corpses and examined them. We found money belts containing a total of about $87 and we found that the two villains were both on my wanted posters. The total reward was $100, so I proposed to Juan that he take the cash and I take in the two corpses for the reward. Juan also took one of the pistols and a carbine that matched the caliber he used. Naturally, he also took all of the appropriate ammunition.

We tied the two corpses to the remaining horse and rode off in our original direction. When we approached the town, Juan left me to continue his journey, and I rode on into the town. I looked up the marshal, turned in the bodies, and got a receipt. He asked why I had brought in only two of the bank robbers (who had been unsuccessful in their robbery attempt due to valiant action by the town's citizens); I explained that the other two had escaped during the sand storm. He sympathized, but commented that I had not lost anything, since there was no reward for the other two, as far as he knew.

I thanked the marshal and rode over to the nearest of the town's four saloons. Yes, I rode; no self-respecting westerner walks when he can ride!

In the saloon, we discussed recent events, including the aborted bank robbery. It seams that a local citizen recognized one of the robbers and called out a warning before the robbers actually reached the bank. There was a furious gunfight, but no one on either side was hit (often the case). However, this did frighten the robbers, so they rode away. End of story.

There wasn't much else to talk about, except the weather, so I left to check in at the other saloons. Nothing there, either, but I spent the night in the local hotel. I got a decent supper and breakfast the next day in the restaurant, so it was not an unpleasant stay, though I was glad to be on my way.

There was nothing much going on around here, so I thought I'd head toward Lordsburg, the Hidalgo county seat, in the extreme west of NMT. No particular reason for going there, it was just not here.

Since it was late in July, the temperature in the middle of the day could be brutal, so I rigged up a portable sunshade for my horse and me to use in the worst of the heat. The temperature wasn't too bad when you were out of the direct sun, so I thought that we could safely make the trip. Though I did make provision for extra water.

About a week into the trip, I spied someone walking along the trail. Examination through the binoculars did not tell me much, except that the pilgrim was not carrying much in the way of supplies or water. I rode over to investigate and was staggered to see that the pedestrian was a woman!

I tipped my hat and asked if I could be of assistance. Suddenly, she pointed a gun at me and ordered me off my horse. She told me to hang my pistols on the saddle horn, take one canteen, and step away from the horse. I did so and she climbed on. As she was riding away, I took out my hide-out gun and shot her in the back of the head. She was dead before she hit the ground.

Normally, I cut women an abnormal amount of slack, but she had just condemned me to a slow and agonizing death. I walked over and shot her again, in the pussy, I was so pissed. Of course, being dead, she didn't notice, but I felt better! I did search her, but found nothing but her gun of dubious value. I left it and her body beside the trail as I rode away. She was about as dumb and as arrogant as you could expect a woman to be.

I came of the opinion that I was wasting my time traveling through here. It looked to me like nothing but empty desert and I should forget going west. I thought to cut northeast toward Deming. At least, more people should mean more business for me.

Deming was mostly tents, with a few buildings to show come civic pride. Of course, the largest buildings were the saloons and associated brothels. After all, business is business, and you've got to serve the customers. With a railroad and stagecoach lines running through, there ought to be some devilment for me to stick my nose in. So I rode in, with hope not too high, but still some hope. Just before I got into town, I ran into a gunfight, but it looked like a private affair, so I did not butt in. However, that was encouraging; just the kind of people I need to keep me in business.

I stopped at the first saloon I came to and bellied up to the bar. It looked kind of quiet; I must be a bit too early for the entertainment. Anyway, I got a beer and looked around for something interesting to keep me in this particular saloon.

Two men at the other end of the bar were talking loudly and violently gesturing at each other. It looked one beer short of a fight. I moseyed over to eavesdrop on what could be an interesting conversation. I seemed that the two men had adjoining ranches and each was accusing the other of running cattle on the his property. Now, this was a serious accusation, especially in a place where water and grass were hard to find, and it was bound to lead to trouble. But it was not the kind of trouble I wanted to get into; a range war was not very comfortable nor very profitable for the participants. So I quietly moved on to another conversation.

Three men were sitting at a table; I sat at the adjacent table and listened in on a quiet, but intense, conversation. Could these men be serious? They were discussion a kidnapping! Now, I think that's a pretty stupid thing to do at an open table in a saloon where anyone could overhear. Therefore, I listened closely. The three were talking of hitting an outlying ranch and kidnapping the eldest son, about thirteen years old, of a rich rancher. They thought they could easily get $15,000 from the rancher for the return of his son and heir. I thought that was way too much, but I already said that they were stupid. I sat there though nursing two more beers until they were ready to leave; by now, they were all three very drunk. I was none too sure on my feet, myself, but nowhere near their condition.

I followed them out of the saloon and to a camp outside of town. They fell onto their blankets and were dead to the world. I went back to the hotel and checked in.

The next morning after breakfast, I rode out to check on the would-be kidnappers. The were still fooling around in their camp, sporting monumental hangovers. I left them to suffer and went to see the rancher in question. We discussed the situation and he hired me at my usual $10 per day, plus expenses, to guard his son. I thought three days would settle the matter, one way or the other. I thought it better to tail the potential kidnappers, rather than staying with the boy, and his father agreed.

The first day was pretty dull, since it took the thugs that long to shake their hangovers, completely. The next day was a different story; the thugs went to the ranch and followed the boy at a respectable distance. Nobody at the ranch noticed them. No opportunity for the kidnapping arose that day, so the thugs decided to give it one more day. They went back to camp, and I went back to town after they were asleep.

The third day was much like the second. There never was an opportunity to snatch the boy, so the kidnappers were getting frustrated. They finally decided to sneak into the boy's room that night and take him. I thought that it would be best if I caught them in the act?after all, they had not actually committed any crime to this point.