Chapter 5

Back in Silver City, they discussed their employment status with the stage line manager. He was sure that the man behind the robberies had been killed, so he was ready to end their contract. He did agree to pay them the $5 for the next day to round out the contract, so they shook hands and parted as friends.

Jane and Ed headed for the nearest court house the next day to restock their cache of wanted posters. They hoped that, in the month that they had worked for the stage line, a new and profitable crop of wanted men would be listed on the posters. They picked up the posters and returned to their hotel room to study the pictures and commit them to memory. They took a break for lunch and returned to the room to work.

That evening, they decided to relax by visiting the local saloons. Jane was still wearing her persona of a man, so that she would not be bothered when she entered the saloon. She had developed a taste for beer, so she wanted an opportunity to quench that thirst. They started out in the saloon associated with the hotel, since it was the most convenient. Jane and Ed ordered beers at the bar and were waiting to be served when a voice shouted, "JIM AUSTIN, YA BASTARD! TURN AROUND AN' TAKE YER MEDICINE!"

Jane and Ed both glanced into the mirror behind the bar and saw a man standing about 20 feet away with his hand on his pistol butt. They nodded at each other and whipped around, at the same time jumping to the side, separating. The man they had spotted standing behind them started to draw his pistol as they jumped. Ed drew his pistol faster than Jane ever could have, but she whipped her hand down on the shotgun she had suspended at the waist and pivoted it toward the enemy. She fired as the shotgun came to bear, and Ed fired at the same time. Both shots caught their opponent in the chest and he was dead by the time he hit the floor. The man had been so close that Jane's shot had almost all hit him before it had much chance to scatter, and the few that missed all wound up in the ceiling, so no body else was injured.

Ed and Jane walked over to the dead man and rolled him over to look at his face. This must be Curly Johnson's younger brother that Jane had been warned about. Well, he was no longer a problem. The marshal showed up in a few minutes and took a statement from several of the witnesses. He pronounced the situation as a clear case of self defense and declined to make any arrests. Ed and Jane bought him a beer and asked for any leads he might have for them while they were all drinking them down.

The marshal didn't have anything to offer and left soon after finishing his beer. Meanwhile, the swamper had cleaned up the mess, so there was nothing left of the excitement but a wet spot on the floor where he had mopped up the blood. Ed and Jane considered this as nothing but another day at the office and ordered another beer while they asked the bartender if he had any news that they could use. The bartender was no more helpful than the marshal had been, so they moved on to another saloon and another beer.

The bartender at the next saloon also had nothing helpful to impart, so they moved on. It was at the fourth saloon that they paid for their evening. They had just finished their beers and were ready to return to their hotel room when a galoot marched through the butterfly-wing doors like he owned the world. Damn! That face was on a poster, wanted dead or alive at $350. Not given to wanton killing, they decided to make an arrest instead of just shooting him, outright. However, they never had the opportunity.

The man was walking toward the far end of the bar when he was jostled by the swamper as he was carrying a crate of whiskey from the store room to the bar. The thug pulled out his bowie knife and snarled, "I'll cut out yer sorry gizzard fer bumping me like that!"

"Come on, Mister. It were an accident. Please put up yer knife. I'm powerful sorry I bumped into ya."

"I never put up my knife unblooded. Prepare ta meet yer maker."

Ed said, "Drop that there knife or I'll blow yer stupid head off! It was yer fault, ya stepped in front of 'im."

"Mind yer own business, ya buttinsky. Ifen ya don't, I'll cut ya after I fix this fool."

"This is yer last warning! Drop the knife right now!"

The man turned fully toward Ed and made a threatening motion with his knife. That was all of this nonsense that Jane could take. She slapped her hand down on her shotgun and pivoted it into position. She fired one barrel the moment the shotgun came to bear. The fool with the knife was less than 15 feet away, and every ball of shot caught him in the torso. Ed nodded his thanks at Jane and made the unnecessary trip over the the body on the floor to be sure he was dead. "It's a good thing ya shot him in the gut with that scatter gun. Otherwise, we might have trouble collecting the reward."

"That's why I aimed fer his gut, silly. I know enough not ta mess his face up too much ta be recognized."

Ed smiled and said, "I know, Jim, I was jus' kiddin' ya."

The swamper said, "I'm much obliged ta ya, Mister. I've seen that there bastard cut up more than his share of men. Ya fixed him, good. I shore do thank ya fer gittin' him offen my back."

"Think nothin' of it. I hate ta see a bully push somebody around. Ya better git yer mop, cuz there's blood all over the floor."

The marshal came in and said, "Y'all, again. Who'd ya shoot this time? Y'all keep that up an' we'll have the safest town we've had in years."

Ed said, "That there galoot has a $350 price on his head, dead or alive. We'd be obliged ifen ya'd give us a receipt fer 'im soz we kin collect the reward."

"I shore will. What's his name? Come by the jail tonight or tomorrow, an' I'll write out yer receipt. Pete, have yer swamper clean up the mess and take the body ta the undertaker. I've seen all I need."

They talked together for a few more minutes and the marshal left. Jane said, "Let's go back ta the hotel. I've had all the beer I kin take fer one night."

The next day, they picked up their receipt and went to the court house to collect their reward. The clerk's comment was, "Man, y'all shore work fast! Y'all were just in yesterday, weren't ya? I wish all the bounty hunters were that efficient."

They left for the next town as soon as they could collect their horses and pack up. They stopped by every saloon they could find, but they had run into a dry spell. Jane suggested that they try the Arizona Territory, since there was a minor gold rush on down there. Ed agreed that they might as well move to Arizona, since they weren't finding anything where they were. They stopped off at the first court house they came to and picked up a stack of wanted posters good for Arizona; there were a lot of duplicates from Nevada, which might explain why the pickings were so slim up there.

This high country of Arizona was not particularly impressive to them, since they were used to the same kind of scenery in Nevada. It was mostly a scrub desert broken up by mountains everywhere one looked. Oh, well, they weren't there for the scenery, anyway. The first few towns they came to weren't very productive in the way of business prospects, but they were still hopeful as the days rolled by. Eventually, they had nearly crossed the Territory without finding anything. Where the Hell were all the crooks? In desperation, they turned farther south with the intention of heading back west to recross Arizona.

This time, they got a little bit lucky. They had stopped at a ranch for some cool water when a cowboy came riding in full tilt and shouting about rustlers. Everybody, including Ed and Jane mounted up and followed him as he raced back to the site of the rustling. It seemed that this cowboy and another were staying at a line shack when they heard the sound of a large herd of cattle on the move. They both went to see the cause of the noise and were surprised to see 12 rustlers making off with a monster herd. Tom stayed behind to follow the rustlers while Slim raced off for help.

When they caught up to him, Tom reported that the herd was still moving north, and the rustlers showed no signs of stopping until dark. There was a small river to the north, and the assumption was that the rustlers would spend the night there. There was no question that the trailing de facto posse could make better time than the herd, so they decided to rush ahead to the stream in hopes of setting up some sort of ambush for the rustlers.