Chapter 20

New Mexico Territory, October, 1896

I stopped off in the Goshen post office just long enough to tell them that they should hold any mail for me until I picked it up. I then hurried to Sue, Ann, and Bobby.

I got my usual exuberant greeting, but I could tell something was wrong. Sue looked grim, Ann was wearing her pistol, and Bobby was favoring his left arm. Finally, with some coaxing, I got the full story of the visit by the giant intruder. Even though I knew it was bound to happen, I was still upset. I praised Ann for taking care of herself in such a brave manner, and I marveled at Bobby's luck and strength in deflecting the ax. I told Sue that she had done a good job of managing the situation. I really thought that, for 15-, 13-, and 10-years-old, they had done a remarkable job.

I was really concerned about Bobby and his left arm. I was afraid that if he kept favoring it, he would develop a bad and possibly fatal habit. He said that it no longer hurt, but it was still tender if he bumped it. I suggested that he make a point of using his left arm as much as possible and told him of some exercises he could use to rebuild his strength. I think that he was encouraged as much by my interest in his plight as he was by anything else.

I decided that they could all handle .38 caliber pistols, so I went into Goshen the next day and bought pistols, holsters, and more ammunition for them to use. I made sure that Ann knew how to use her new .38 and had her put her .32 back in the chest to have for an emergency spare. I then spent a few days with Bobby making sure he could use his new pistol. I spent a lot of time on proper gun safety, since I thought a 10-year-old needed the extra cautions.

I was amazed at how well the kids were coping with their solitude. I still insisted that they stay away from Goshen as much as possible. They were just too tempting a target for a lot of the trash that was still running around NMT. On the other hand, I was sorry that they did not have the advantages of adult companionship, except while I was around. One evening I did discuss this problem with them. I also asked if they wanted to join me if and when I ever got married. The all jumped for joy at that invitation and were ready to leave, immediately. I had to calm them down and remind them that the question was still hypothetical, since I had no woman in mind, yet.

We had a few weeks of calm, and then my usual luck showed up in the form of five yahoos. Just as we were sitting down to supper, we heard a, "Hello, the house!" Since it was a man's voice, I drew my gun and went to the door. I opened the door and was met by fusillade of pistol fire. I slammed the door before I even had an opportunity to shoot. All but one of the bullets had missed me; however, I did have a scratch on my left side. It was a painful, but not serious, wound. I couldn't help wondering, as I jumped back, how so much gunfire could produce so little result, but I was happy!

The kids had jumped up and run to me as soon as I got the door closed. I yelled at them to open the windows; we didn't want a lot of broken glass flying around! I had Sue take my .44-40 rifle, Bobby take my .44-40 carbine, and Ann take Sue's .22 rifle. I sent them each to a window to keep up a steady, but measured, fire at the attackers. The cabin was small and had only the one door, so the attackers were all gathered on that side of the house.

I admonished the kids to keep well protected as they shot and not to take any chances. I also told them that I was going out through one of the windows and not to shoot me by mistake. They all promised to be careful. All of the yahoos were using pistols, so I thought that the kids had a good chance to escape injury if they didn't expose much skin as they shot. Between the bad shooting by the attackers and the thick cabin walls, I expected no, or few, hits on our side. Everything considered, I thought that we had a well-defended fort.

I went to the opposite side of the cabin, opened one of the windows, and slithered out. The yahoos were so intent on the fire coming from the house that none of them saw me make my exit. I ran away from the cabin to make a big loop around to behind the attackers.

Once I got behind them, I cautiously crept up to where I could see them. There was a bunch of three and two separated from the others. I decided to take on the pair, first. They were making so much noise firing as fast as they could at the house, that they never heard me coming. I got within 30 feet and opened up. At that range, I don't miss! I did fire four shots, as I didn't want possibly wounded enemies behind me as I went after the others. I ducked and reloaded.

Since we were all firing either .44 or .45 caliber ammunition, the pistol fire sounded enough the same that the other three did not realize that I was behind them. I easily picked off two of them, but the third one jumped into some bushes. I called to the kids to stop shooting, but there was still one on the loose. I began my stalk.

I was sure that the last living yahoo was trying to reach the place where they had picketed their horses. I crept as fast as I could in that general direction when I felt a sharp pain in my head and everything faded to black.

The next thing I knew, it was morning and I was lying in bed with three anxious kids standing beside me. I found out that I had been shot in the head, but it was only a scalp wound, which Ann had sewn up while I was unconscious. Sue had rushed outside when they heard the final shot at me and had seen me fall. She had found the last yahoo and pumped five .38 slugs into him before calling to the other kids and running to me.

After taking care of me, they had gathered up the corpses and taken any valuables. They had saved the bodies for me to check for a possible bounty, but I needed to look pretty soon before the animals got to them.

It was the next day before I could examine the five corpses; none were wanted. Bobby and Sue used the mule to drag the bodies to the same gully that they had used before. I was still dizzy and had a headache whenever I stood up, so I spent the next few days in bed, except for the necessary trips to the chamber pot.

Sue asked if she could switch to a Schofield .45 from her .38. One of the yahoos had been using one and she wanted it. I told her it was OK with me, but I wondered if she could handle the added recoil. She said she could, she had tried it out and found it to be acceptable. She had no trouble with the separate cocking the hammer and pulling the trigger, so I told her to keep it. The other two kids wanted to stick with their .38 pistols.

We decided not to sell the extra weapons, but to keep them as emergency spares. Sue considered switching from her hunting .22 to one of the heavier rifles carried by the yahoos, but she decided too stick with what had served her so well the last few years. For one thing, the lighter weight .22 was easier to carry while walking in the heavy brush. The hollow-point long rifle ammunition she used worked well on anything up to small deer, so she didn't need a bigger bullet.

As soon as I could ride, I took the five horses and tack into Goshen to sell. I checked in the post office while I was there?nothing for me. I refilled the ammunition larder and returned to the kids.

By early December, Bobby had stopped favoring his left arm and the strength had returned to it. It looked as if everything was returning to normal.

When Christmas time came around, we did our usual over-decorating and loved it all. We passed out presents, laughed, cried, and generally had a wonderful time. Time spent with those kids was great! I stayed through the New Year celebration and then left to return to work.

It was still too cold to spend unnecessary time outdoors, so I slaved away in various saloons. Between bull sessions and poker sessions, I learned a lot about the doings of southern NMT. A lot seemed to be happening, but crime was taking a long holiday. It was well into February before I found anything that looked like my kind of business.

It looked like the season for Mexican bandits was getting an early start. Stagecoach robberies were up to an annoying point, so I looked up the manager of the local line, Aaron Strobel. At first, he was reluctant to pay my usual fee, but he changed his mind after checking my references.

The descriptions of the bandits made it look like there was more than one group of bandits, maybe as many as three groups. They all had the same routine: block the road and rob the stagecoach when it was forced to stop. This technique was nothing unusual, but the way it never varied was a little surprising. I began to wonder: was this a program to drive the current owner out of business so that someone else could move in? If so, the solution would be a lot more complicated.

I decided that the situation demanded subtleness. Instead of banging away at the bandits, I would follow them to see what transpired. Therefore, I started following the stagecoach, in hopes that it would be stopped. It took three days of this before I had any luck. I spotted a robbery in progress and rushed to find a favorable position to observe and, eventually, follow the bandits. The crew had been instructed not to resist the bandits and there were no passengers, so I was sure that no one would be hurt.