Chapter 16

There wasn't much going on in San Diego, so I thought I would try my luck in Los Angeles. I sold my pack mule and got a pretty penny for her; it seems that mules were rare and highly prized in California. I rode up to Los Angeles, staying as close to the ocean as I could, since it had been a very long time since I had seen that much water. There was no way I was going to get back on a boat, but the ocean was beautiful to look at, if I could see it from dry land!

As usual, I was in no hurry to get to Los Angeles, so I spent 5 days on the trail, riding when I wanted to and staring at the ocean when I wanted to. I finally pulled into town and found a place to stay in a hotel. Damn, there were Chinese whores! I might patronize one just to find out if the story was true that their pussy slits were horizontal instead of vertical, like White women. You never know until you check it out, personally.

I wandered around, looking at all of the sights. Some kind soul told me about the tar pits and to stay away from them. He said that the damn things were dangerous, and you could get trapped pretty easily. I took him at his word and did stay away, but I did get close enough, downwind, one day to smell the things. That was enough reason to avoid them!

I wasn't hurting for money, but I figured that I had better get a job, for no other reason than to keep from getting bored. I asked a couple of bartenders what the prospects were for a decent job. The answer I got was that there were plenty of jobs around, but they didn't pay enough to live on. About the only way, now days, to make a living wage was to be an armed guard for somebody. There was a lot of banditry going on, probably because of the low pay for honest work, so there were a lot of jobs open for a hired gun.

Well, I didn't care much for being a hired gun, but there was no doubt that I was qualified for that position. The stage lines were always looking for shotgun guards, but riding on a stage for a long time could really mess up your back and kidneys, so I wasn't too excited by that prospect. Then I found out that a rich banker was looking for a bodyguard for his kids. There had already been two kidnapping attempts which had been foiled by pure luck. He was having trouble hiring somebody because he was particular who his daughter associated with.

I figured that I should be qualified on that count, too, since I had been to school and had been married. My manners were good, and I spoke without a Southern accent. Also, I was a damned good shot; what more could he want?

I went to see Mr. Jedidiah Hawkins at his place of business just in time to interrupt a bank holdup. I walked in the door of Hawkins' bank while two men were holding guns on him and two tellers. One of the robbers saw me and swung his gun around to point in my direction, but I had recognized the situation as soon as I had stepped through the door. I pulled both my guns and shot the two bandits before either one could bring his gun to bear on me. Both were shot in the chest, so they both died within 30 seconds.

The three bank men were very impressed by my shooting, but I kind of brushed it off. Both men were within 15 feet—I couldn't miss at that range! Anyway, they were all relieved, since they had been sure that the robbers would shoot them before leaving the bank. Shortly after my guns fired, a deputy marshal ran to the bank, but he was calmed by Mr. Hawkins and left to fetch the undertaker.

Needless to say, I was hired as a bodyguard within only a few minutes, since I easily met all of the requirements. Hawkins asked me to hang around for a few minutes while he got the bank back in running order; we rode in his carriage to his home with my horse tied behind.

At the Hawkins home, he explained to his wife what had happened and that he had hired me as a bodyguard for their children. Mrs. Hawkins was relieved at that news and called the children in to introduce them to me. There was a girl, Mary, and two boys, Jack and Jim. Mary was 14, Jack was 13, and Jim was 11. We talked for a while, and I agreed to start work that day.

The boys were thrilled by what had happened at the bank that day, and wanted me to demonstrate my shooting abilities. I asked Mr. Hawkins if I could speak to him alone, so we went out on the veranda. I explained that I had run successful shooting schools and I wanted to know if he wanted me to teach the children to shoot. He was all for it, so I said I would talk to the kids about it.

Of course, the boys were ready to start right away, but I told them that we had to set up a safe shooting range before anybody shot anything. I asked Mary if she was interested in learning, and she, too, was thrilled at the idea. Mary had never before been offered such an opportunity and was anxious to learn. I figured to start them out with a .22, and we could go from there.

There was enough room in the Hawkins' back yard for my kind of shooting range and the dirt was ideal for making adobe, so I had the kids change clothes while Mr. Hawkins showed me where to find the tools. The three kids had a great time playing in the mud with a good excuse, so that their mother would not scold them. We built some forms and started casting the adobe brick. With so much enthusiastic cooperation from the kids, we had about half the bricks we would need already drying by the time we were called for supper.

At supper, I could tell that Mrs. Hawkins was not too keen on Mary playing in the mud nor in her learning to shoot, but, it was apparent that Mr. Hawkins ruled the roost on such topics, so she didn't say anything. All three kids talked incessantly during supper about building the shooting range and learning to shoot. It got so bad with them monopolizing the conversation that Mr. Hawkins finally shut them up so that the adults could get in a word. I was amused and their parents were happy to see the children so enthusiastic over the prospects.

The next morning, we got an early start because I ate breakfast with the kids. I had moved into a spare room in the Hawkins' house, so that I could keep a 24-hour watch on the children. The first thing we did was make enough bricks to build the range as soon as the bricks dried out. It was late in the day by the time we finished and the kids were covered in mud. Their mother was surprised when I insisted that all four of us bathe before supper, and she was even more surprised when the kids agreed with no argument.

I checked the bricks the next day and could see that they would be dry enough to use the next day, so we were making excellent progress. They were a little disappointed when I said that there would be no more mud work today, but I thought that we could start actual construction tomorrow. In the meantime, we needed to go to the gunsmith to select suitable guns for them to learn with. The shouts of glee from this announcement were almost deafening! Mrs. Hawkins was as excited as the kids when I asked her to join us. I suggested that we stop by the bank and ask Mr. Hawkins to join us at a restaurant for lunch; she could give the cook a rest.

By this time, this had become a family outing, so I hitched up the large carriage while Mrs. Hawkins and the kids got suitably dressed. We stopped by the bank and Mr. Hawkins decided to join us for the trip to the gunsmith's place as well as lunch.

We trooped into the gunsmith's shop and practically filled the place. I told him that I was looking for three .22 caliber revolvers, either single- or double-action, and I wanted them to be all the same model, if possible. I was already ahead of the kids in the argument about who got which gun. He had three made by S&W in their famous top-break frame, so that was just what we needed.

He laid the pistols on the counter, and I gave a lecture on gun safety to the kids. I broke open each gun to make sure that they were empty, and then I told the kids to take one to see how it fit their hands. Jack could have used a slightly larger gun if it had been available, but the guns were perfect fits for the two other children.