Chapter 10

That demonstration did it, my reputation was now made as a superlative teacher of pistol shooting. I now had more students than I could handle in a single class. Based on my experience with those three boys, I needed to expand the class to three weeks and raise the price to $75. I set the class hours from 10:00 AM to 3:00 PM, with an hour break for lunch, which we provided. The gunsmith in town wanted to know if I would object to him moving his shop to be adjacent to my range. I told him to come on, and he was in business within a few weeks. He paid me for the privilege of locating next to me by paying me 3% of his gross sales.

I was already looking into increasing the size of my school if I could find qualified instructors. There was enough potential business to double the size of the school as soon as I could hire another instructor. One day, I found him quite by accident. It was a Sunday afternoon, which was a day off for most of the cowhands. A few were fooling around on the range, shooting and making bets on the results.

Orville Whitebottom was showing off with some trick shooting, and he was damn good. I wandered by while Orville was shooting and I stopped to watch. One of the other hands saw me and asked me to compare my shooting to Orville's. Neither he nor I were really interested, but the other men made an issue of it so we agreed to a little contest.

The first round was shooting with two hands at 40 feet; I had an ulterior motive in mind—I was testing Orville to be my first instructor if he was a good as he and the cowhands thought. We each fired off 10 rounds and it was a draw. Both of us hit the bull's eye with every shot. The next phase of the contest was one-handed at the same distance, slow fire. Again, it was a tie, we both hit the bull's eye with every shot.

The next test was five shots as fast as we could fire, with the scoring a combination of time and the number of bull's eyes. I knew that I was fast, so I went first to give Orville an idea of what he was up against. These were aimed shots, so I fired all five shots in 20 seconds; I hit the bull's eye every time. Orville got off his five shots in 18 seconds, but missed the bull's eye with one of his shots.

The spectators decided that this should also be called a draw, and we should have one more trial. This time, it was to be five shots from the hip as fast as the gun could be fired. Orville went first, this time, and managed two bull's eyes in 12 seconds at a range of 20 feet. Damn good shooting! And I told him so.

Now it was my turn, and I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. Orville had set a tough record to match. I drew and fired off my five shots in 13 seconds, but I hit the bull's eye four out of five times! Man, was I lucky! Orville just shook his head and started to walk off. He almost got away before I could call him back.

I asked him where he had learned to shoot so well. He said, "My pa taught me ta start with, an' I been practicin' ever since."

I said, "You do know that my victory today was as much luck as anything else?"

"Yeah, I know that, but ya're still better than me. Ya're the best pistol shot I ever heard of."

"How would you like to join my shooting school as an instructor? I'll start you out at $1 per day per student that finishes the course. That come to $120 per month if all five of your students stick with it, and you teach every week. Are you interested?"

"Hell, yes, I'm interested! That's more than twice as much as I make now. Ifen I kin still git room and board, it's a deal."

"Very good, then, Orville, you're hired as an instructor. I would like for you to start in two weeks when the next class starts. I'll work with you for a while until we are both satisfied that you can handle the job on your own. Meanwhile, I'll tell Jeff to start looking for a new hand."

By his third class, Orville was able to teach like a pro. He was doing at least as well as I could at teaching, and he seemed to enjoy the job. All in all, I was quite happy with his performance. I laughingly told him that my only fear was that he would go off and start a rival school.

I now had more free time, so I spent some of it in town. Barbara liked for us to go into Sandy Creek to church on Sunday, and I usually went in to socialize at one of the saloons on Saturday night. That's when I ran into my second kid trying to build a reputation as a gunfighter.

I was at a saloon sitting in on a poker game; I don't play well, I just play for the social aspects. I was concentrating on my cards when somebody unexpectedly crashed into my back. Now, the saloon was not all that crowded, so I immediately doubted that it was an accident. I had been knocked against the table, so chips and cards went flying. I admit to being somewhat putout by this, so I gathered myself and turned around in my chair to see who had bumped me.

From his looks, the villain of the piece could not have been over 18 years old. Before I could say anything, he said, "Yeah, I'm the one what bumped ya. What are ya gonna do 'bout it."

It was obvious that this "child" wanted something, but at the moment I had no idea what it was. I asked, "OK, so you bumped me. What do you want?"

"I want ya ta draw soz I kin blow ya ta hell."

"What? Why would you want to do that? I've never done anything to you!"

"That's right, Mr. Best-shot-in-Texas. But I aim ta kill ya ta prove that I'm even better. Now, draw!"

I was still sitting in my chair, so if I had been wearing my gun on my thigh, I would have been easy pickings. My opponent wore his gun there, and must have assumed that I would be doing the same. He reached for his gun and started to draw. I don't care how fast you are, drawing from the thigh or the hip is just slower than drawing from a properly fitted shoulder holster, even when sitting down. I easily outdrew the kid and put a bullet in his chest before he had even cocked his gun. I didn't want him to suffer, so I put another bullet between his eyes.

One of the men at the table kind of sputtered, and said, "My Gawd, ya are fast! I thought sure he had an unbeatable edge."

"The main reason that I wear a shoulder holster is that I can draw fast from it whether I am sitting or standing. This boy did not stand a chance of beating me, as I would have explained if he had given me a chance."

Another of my poker-playing friends said, "Well, that were a clear example of self-defense ifen I ever seen one."

The marshal happened to be at the bar talking to the bartender when the incident started, so he had seen and heard the whole thing. He came up to the scene of the encounter and said, "Well, Jeremiah, I see that ya done rid Texas of another pimple on its ass. We all thank ya. I done already sent fer the undertaker. Ya kin go on home ifen ya want ta."

"Much obliged, Marshall, I think I will as soon as I cash out. Good night, gentlemen, I'll see y'all in church tomorrow."

I don't know if it was a coincidence or not, but the next morning, the sermon was something to the effect of "don't bite off more than you can chew."

Once I was sure that Orville could handle the shooting school, I had another range built next to the first one. This one was a copy of the first one, with five shooting stations. The new range didn't cost me much, and I could now have two classes going at one time. Teaching was fun, but being an executive and watching other people work was even more fun, so I set out to find another instructor I could hire. None of the other cowhands could shoot well enough to qualify, so I put an add in the newspaper in Sandy Creek and in Amarillo for another teacher.

Over the next few weeks, a few men showed up who wanted to try out for the job, but none could stack up to my needs. I was about to give up in despair when a woman rode up and asked if the job was still open. I told her it was, and she said she wanted to apply for the job. I asked her qualifications and she said that her father had originally taught her, and she had done a lot of practicing. She did ask if she was required to use a .44 or .45. She said that she could handle one, but she preferred her custom made .38 which she showed to me. I told her that there was no problem with her .38, if she could handle it well enough.