Chapter 3

Sometimes I hate ta be right. I just knew I wuz gonna have trouble with that there damned galoot. He wuz a crooked Confederate sympathizer politician. Now, I ask ya: how wrong kin a man be? "Howdy, Sheriff. What kin I do fer ya?"

"Ya kin come along quietly ta the jail. Ya're under arrest fer murder of some upstanding Confederate sojers what ya lyingly called Bushwhackers when ya hung 'em about six weeks ago. A true patriot cut 'em down an' give 'em a decent burial. Now ya're gonna pay fer yer crime. Hold out yer hands soz I kin cuff ya."

I had been sitting on the veranda, enjoying a cigar afore supper, when this here idjut rode up. I wuz still wearin' my guns, since I don't never go nowhere without them with so many bandits, excuse me, patriotic guerrilla sojers, runnin' around the countryside and shootin' at people kinda fer the joy of it.

I carefully snubbed out my cigar and looked the sheriff in the eye. "Ya are a damned fool ifen ya think that I'm goin' anywhere with ya when ya talk like that. Let me see the warrant fer my arrest afore ya go any further."

"I ain't got no warrant, an' I don't need one fer arrestin' ya. Everybody in the county knows that ya're a Damyankee sympathizer an' ought ta be tried an' hung fer treason."

"I might point out that Missouri didn't secede, so I can't be tried fer treason ta the Confederacy. Now, git yer sorry ass ofen my property afore I git mad an' blow yer stupid fuckin' head off."

"Ya can't talk ta me like that! I'm the law in this county, soz ya don't have no choice. Turn over yer guns an' let me cuff ya."

Suddenly, there was a voice heard from the doorway, "Sheriff, ya better git yer ass outa here, like Jeff said. Ya and yer three deputies ain't got the chance of a snowball in hell of arrestin' Jeff fer murder without a warrant. Yer word just ain't good enough at this end of the county. We ain't Union sympathizers, an' we ain't Confederate sympathizers. We're sympathizers of peace an quiet, an I'll blow your fuckin' head off with this here shotgun ifen y'all don't git out of here in about two minutes." The noise of Jane cocking the hammers on that double barrel 10-gauge could be heard clearly in the stunned silence of the so-called lawmen.

"Now, look here, Ma'am. Ya best be careful with that there shotgun."

I said, "Sheriff, ya're the one what needs ta be careful. My wife has a short fuse an' a deadly eye with any sort of gun, soz I advise ya ta do what she says. Ya kin come back when ya gits that there warrant, an' only then will I go quietly. Like I said, Sheriff, she's got a short fuse, an' I kin hear it sizzling."

"Y'all will be sorry ya defied me. I'll be back with a posse, next time."

"Ya ain't likely ta find many fer yer posse from around here, so don't make idle threats. Now, git!"

The sheriff took another look at Jane's determined face an' climbed back on his hoss. "Ya ain't heard the last of this, ya traitor!" He rode off, cursin' under his breath.

Jane asked, "Do ya reckon that he can git a warrant? Ya know that ya would be shot tryin' ta escape afore they got ya ta the jail?"

"Yeah, I know that, Honey. I had no intention of goin' with him, even ifen he'd had a warrant. I know that I could outdraw him, an' I knew that ya would back me up. I love ya, Honey, but I 'spect that I'd better make myself scarce fer a little while."

"No, please don't do that. I know that ifen ya talk ta Jeb an' Jethro, they'd come runnin' ta help ya. Our fence is sturdy, soz the only way in is through the front gate. That fool would need a cannon ta git to the house, an' I don't know where he would find one. Besides, my baby is due pretty soon, an' I do need ya ta be near when that happens."

"OK, I'll talk ta some of my friends 'bout this, but I am concerned 'bout ya an' the baby. Well, we'll see what happens. In the meantime, I'm hungry. Is supper ready?"

Over the next couple of days, I talked to Jeb an' Jethro an' some of my other friends, an' they all agreed ta back me up ifen it came ta a real fight, as long as the sheriff didn't have no warrant. Ifen he managed ta git a warrant, then the whole deal would change.

Life rocked along in its easy pace fer 'bout nine weeks, then Jane's water broke. It was a complete surprise, since she was almost two weeks early. I hitched up the buckboard an' raced for the midwife. Got her on board an' raced back home in plenty of time. I was relieved over that, but the midwife swore that she would never ride with me, again. She said I scared the life out of her. I wonder if she meant that, cuz I thought that I was right careful on the trip from her house ta here, though we did make the trip in record time. Jane wuz in labor fer 14 hours, so maybe I did drive a trifle faster than necessary. When it was time fer her ta go home, the midwife refused ta ride with me. She had her husband come git her. I think that woman wuz afraid of her own shadow—I wuzn't that reckless!

She delivered a beautiful girl. Absolutely the prettiest baby ever borne. She named the baby Mary Elizabeth, after our two mothers. I thought that was nice, but I really didn't care what name she chose, I was gonna love the baby just as much.

I had about three weeks with my wife an' baby afore the shit started to fly. Just 23 days after the baby was borne, the Sheriff showed up with four deputies to try to arrest me, again. He still didn't have a warrant, but he tried to make up for it in bluster. I refused to go with him, so the damned fool tried to draw on me. I'd had all I could take of his stupidity, so I shot him, though not fatally. I did shoot him in the right arm an' shattered it. Sensibly, the deputies didn't try to draw on me. They gathered him up an' hauled him to the nearest doctor, who amputated the Sheriff's arm to save his life. I had now made a life-long, powerful enemy.

I went to see Jeb an' his wife. They promised ta look after Jane an' Mary Elizabeth. I had no choice but ta disappear until the whole thin' blew over. I hoped that would only be a few months, but we all feared that it would be years before I could return ta livin' on my farm.

I spent a tearful night with Jane an' the baby afore I lit out fer Oklahoma Territory. I promised ta come back an' visit as often as I could, but I wuzn't at all shore when that would be.

I didn't take much with me, jus' my two pistols an' a Spencer carbine. I took a minimum of supplies an' three $20 gold pieces. That left Jane an' the baby with nearly $2,400, which should hold them fer several years. I didn't know exactly what I would do, but I wuz gonna stay out of Missouri fer a while.

Naturally, the best laid plans git screwed up. I headed into Kansas straight away, cuz I figured I needed ta git out of Missouri as quick as possible. That took two days of hard travel until I was shore that I was inta Kansas. Once I figured I wuz out of Missouri, I headed southwest. The Cherokee wuz partial ta the Confederacy, soz they might be willin' ta turn me over ta the law from Missouri. I didn't know fer shore, but I didn't want ta take any chances.

Anyway, I wuz 'bout halfway through Kansas when it dawned on me that I wuz pro'bly better off in Kansas than I would be in Oklahoma. Oklahoma wuz more a part of the CSA than Missouri wuz, so I decided ta stay in Kansas, at least for a while. At least, the people in Kansas wuzn't likely ta turn me over ta the law in Missouri, no matter how much they might beg.

So that's what I decided, I'd stay in Kansas 'til a better idee came along. I stayed out of towns an' lived off the land. There wuz enough buffeler around that I had plenty of meat, but I shore got tired of that pretty soon. Finally, I couldn't take it any longer an' went into a little town to buy some beans an' coffee. I got the impression that they couldn't care less who I wuz or where I come from—as long as I had money, I wuz welcome.