Chapter 19

New Mexico Territory, September, 1896

Sue announced, "I'm going after venison. I'll probably have to go several miles for it, so I'll have to take the mule. I expect to be back for supper."

Bobby commented, "I have to do some repair work on the corral, so I'm glad you'll be looking after the mule and I don't have to worry about him."

Ann said, "I hadn't planned on anything special for today, just the usual."

Sue and Bobby went out to start their tasks, and Sue was out of sight within a few minutes. Bobby pulled a cracked rail out of the corral fence and started trimming another rail to fit. He was having considerable trouble getting the rail to fit to his perfectionist standards and was intent on his task.

He didn't hear the intruder walk quietly up behind him and pick up the short handle ax that he had been using to trim the rail. Bobby must have sensed something was wrong just as the intruder raised the ax to strike him in the head. Bobby turned and raised his arm as the ax came down in a powerful blow aimed at his head. Bobby's arm deflected the ax just enough so that the side of the blade hit him in the head, instead of the cutting edge. However, the blow was hard enough that a great gout of blood spurted from Bobby's torn scalp as he fell, unconscious.

Ann had opened the door to ask Bobby if he wanted a last cup of coffee before she finished cleaning up the breakfast dishes when she saw the ax hit Bobby's head and the blood spurt. She screamed and slammed the door. Ann rushed to the chest beside her bunk to get her pistol she so rarely wore. She really thought that she had no use for the silly thing! She picked up the pistol and turned toward the kitchen.

She had taken only two steps when she was grabbed by a huge man. He was reaching for her waist, but was so much taller than Ann that he actually grabbed her up near her shoulders. Her arms were pinned between her body and his. He had seen the gun but had noticed that she had not pulled the hammer back to the cocked position. He assumed that she could not shoot because the pistol was not cocked. His blunder was in that Ann's pistol was double-action, which meant that she could shoot merely by pulling the trigger.

Ann tried to push the man away, but he was much too strong for that to work. In a panic, Ann pushed the barrel of her pistol into the man's belly and pulled the trigger. And pulled. And pulled. And pulled. She fired all four bullets into the man's abdomen. Even a measly .32 can kill if it has the chance. The intruder fell, but he fell on her. Ann's breath was knocked out and she was stunned for a few moments when her head hit the floor.

Ann regained her senses with a heavy weight pressing her down. She quickly recognized what was lying on her and tried to push him off. With some struggling, she was able to wiggle out from under the near giant who was now as dead as she could hope for. She had dropped the pistol when she first fell and she never thought of it again for many hours.

Suddenly she remembered Bobby lying in the dirt of the corral. She was afraid that he was dead from all of the blood she saw spurt from his head, but she rushed to him, anyway. She knelt beside him and examined his head wound. Ann saw, with relief, that the scalp was torn, but Bobby had not been hit by the cutting edge of the ax. There had been a lot of blood released at first, but it had clotted before she got to him.

She rolled him over onto his back and discovered that his upper left arm was broken, probably when he deflected the ax. When she saw this, Ann started to cry. After a few minutes of this, she realized that she had to take care of Bobby; he could not help himself! She forced back the beginning hysteria and took hold of herself.

Ann knew that Bobby had to be moved inside and put to bed, but how? Oh, if Sue were only here to help! Ann decided that the first thing she had to do was set Bobby's broken arm. She went back into the house to get some cloth she could tear into strips to use tying on the splint. She got two pieces of wood and used the bloody ax to cut them to a suitable length. She then sat in the dirt beside Bobby and took off her right shoe. She placed her foot in Bobby's armpit and pulled on his wrist. Ann was actually stronger than she realized and had no trouble setting the broken arm. She did have some trouble tying on the splint; she felt like she needed three hands to do the job. At last, she the had the splint in pace and was ready to move Bobby into the house.

Ann realized that there was no way she could carry Bobby into the house; she could only drag him. With his multiple injuries, Bobby was in no condition to be treated roughly. Ann thought that she could move him by getting him on a blanket and dragging the blanket.

She went into the house, again, to get a blanket. That's when she saw the corpse lying on the floor. It was in the way! She grabbed hold of the dead man's feet and unceremoniously dragged him out the door and left him lying in the dirt. Fortunately, in pulling him across the floor, she mopped up a lot of his blood by sliding his body across and through it.

Ann got the blanket and went back to Bobby. She put the blanket on the ground beside him and rolled up the edge next to Bobby until it was about one-half width. She carefully and gently rolled him onto the blanket. Once he was there, she returned the blanket to its full width and rolled him onto his back. Then, with many pauses for rest, she pulled the blanket and Bobby back into the house. There was no way she could get Bobby onto a bed by herself; she would have to wait for Sue.

Ann made Bobby as comfortable as she could on the blanket on the floor. She then cleaned up the blood on his head and bandaged his wound. After that was done, she cleaned up the last of the blood from the floor. There was nothing else she could think of to do for Bobby until Sue got home. So she got her sewing basket and sat on the floor beside Bobby and did her mending until Sue got home.

Sue came home in the late afternoon and put the mule in the corral. She unloaded her kill and took care of the mule's needs before she noticed that a rail was missing from the fence. It only took a minute to repair the gap with the rail lying on the ground. Sue then walked toward the house. That was when she saw the dead man lying in the dirt near the door. She drew her pistol and ran to the house.

Sue carefully opened the door and peered in. At first, she saw nothing unusual, but then she saw Ann sitting on the floor beside a large pile of clothes. Ann was sitting quietly and apparently unconcerned, so Sue holstered her pistol and walked into the room. Ann looked at Sue and burst into tears!

Sue stared at Ann in shock; why was she sobbing like that? Then she saw that the pile of clothes Ann was sitting next to was actually Bobby; he had not regained consciousness all day. Sue rushed over and saw that Bobby's head was bandaged and his arm had a splint, but he was breathing normally. Ann cried for a minute or two longer and then gained control of herself.

Ann told Sue everything that had happened. The two then carefully lifted Bobby's body onto the bed and removed his clothes. At least he was spared the pain of being shifted around so much because he was still unconscious. Ann and Sue ate some supper and then kept a vigil over Bobby until he regained consciousness the next morning.

They fed him some breakfast and took care of his other needs and then told him all that had happened. He did not remember the ax blow or anything after until he woke up in bed in considerable pain. Ann gave him some willow bark extract to help with the pain, and Bobby went back to sleep.

That day, Sue searched the dead man for valuables and then used the mule to drag his body into a gully about half a mile away and left him for the animals. Sue found a very low quality watch, under $2 in change, and a valuable bowie knife, all of which she kept.

Meanwhile, Ann found her pistol where it had fallen. She reloaded it and donned the holster and pistol and vowed never to take them off again!

I was standing at the bar when I felt a gun poking me in the back over my right kidney. I looked in the mirror and saw a nondescript character I didn't recognize standing behind me and just to my right. "I've got a Derringer stuck in your back and I'll blow you apart unless you do exactly as I say," he whispered to me.

I nodded my head and he continued, "Put down your drink and put both hands flat against the bar."

I started to do as he commanded. When my hands reached the bar, I spun to my left, causing his gun to slip away and slide along my right side. He convulsively pulled the trigger and I felt the muzzle blast burn into my body, but the bullet missed. I knew his position from seeing him in the mirror, so I had no trouble hitting him as hard as I could in the throat with my elbow. I caught him squarely in the windpipe and crushed it back toward his backbone. The way he was gasping as he fell, he and I both knew that he was already dead.

In the time it took him to die, I was trying to put out the fire blazing in my shirt. The bastard was using black powder which set my shirt on fire when he shot. Fortunately for me, the bartender saw my plight and reached over the bar, slapping my shirt with a wet towel. This saved me from a very bad burn and I thanked him profusely.

Several people had tried to help the guy on the floor, but he was already as good as dead from suffocation. It's hard to breath through a crushed windpipe! Nobody knew the first-aid for a crushed windpipe, so they just stared helplessly at each other. This would have been dismissed as the usual barroom fight, but for the gunshot, so the bartender sent the swamper for the marshal.

The marshal arrived to find me still going through the dead man's pockets. Needless to say, I found one of the Talliferro's handbills. I showed it to the marshal, who grunted and nodded, "Since you didn't shoot him, I think that we will call it an accidental death and forget the whole thing."