Chapter 12

A total of $750 in bounties wasn't bad for this early in the trip, but it really wasn't enough to satisfy our needs for the year with the increased size of the family. We didn't want to push our luck too hard in Brownsville, since pushing your luck could be a death warrant.

We headed on toward the Gulf, as much as anything, to see it, since it was new to both of us. Damn, that was beautiful! Of course, we weren't the type of people to want to stand and admire something for a long time, so we turned north after about half an hour. The Gulf was nice to look at, but it didn't put groceries on the table.

The first town we came to on our trip north was a revelation. These people depended on fish for their livelihood, and they spent a lot of time in boats. We landlubbers stood out like a sore thumb. It was obvious that we were going to have to move inland a bit to find our kind of people. We decided that we should change our original plan and head up toward San Antonio and more nearly into Central Texas.

This land was not quite as lush as that nearer the Rio Grande, but it was not dry by any means. There were plenty of trees and grass, and there were swamps, too, so we didn't lack for bugs! Oh, well, places as nearly perfect as Texas still needed something to remind you of how great the rest of it was.

This time, when we rode into a town, we felt more at home. This country was ideal for farms and ranches, so these people were more like home folks. We didn't find any wanted men around here, probably because they were all down in Brownsville, but we knew that we had to come to some as we approached San Antonio. Cities just attracted that kind of person.

The next town was much more productive. We saw four low level crooks standing around the town's bank. Were they about to rob it? They were wearing dusters, so they certainly were in uniform for the job. We decided not to wait, since somebody innocent could be hurt if we did, and they really were planning to rob the bank.

We dismounted at the next hitching rail and "Andy" waited while I approached the men. I could tell that these men were very inexperienced, since they were wearing their dusters so that their guns were covered and not readily accessible. When I got to within about 15 feet of the four men, I said, "Gentlemen, you are under arrest for robbery. I am a bounty hunter, and I am with friends who have you covered. Please raise your hands and surrender. That way, nobody will get hurt."

Wonder of wonders, three of the four men did as requested, but one fool went for his gun. Before he could get through his duster and draw his revolver, there were two gunshots and he fell dead to the sidewalk. Of course, this drew a crowd, including the town's marshal. He asked, "What's goin' on here? Who fired those shots?"

I answered, "My partner standing over there and I shot that man. We are bounty hunters and we had arrested these four men for robbery. The dead one resisted arrest and was shot. Please, may we adjourn to the jail so that we can transfer these fugitives to your care?"

The marshal agreed, so we disarmed the potential bandits. They did, indeed, have shotguns concealed under their dusters. We collected them, their revolvers, and their knives. It was only a short walk to the jail where the crooks were locked in a cell, and the undertaker was called to take care of the dead one. He had enough cash on him to pay for his funeral, though, for only the one dollar minimum fee, the undertaker refused to throw in a wooden coffin. Oh, well, we didn't think that the dead man would care that much.

The marshal gave us the four receipts, so we had collected $105 worth of bounty—not a fortune, but worth the morning's work. As was customary, we confiscated the guns and sold them, along with the fugitives horses and tack. This came to $127, so we did right well for little effort and some danger.

We were too far from the next town to get there without pushing our horses, so we decided to spend the night where we were and to resume our patrol the next morning. We spent the evening in visiting the three saloons in town and retiring to our hotel room. That room was nothing to brag about, but it did have a bed which we put to good use. It's amazing what the danger of dying will do to spice up your sex life.

The next morning, we were about two miles out of town when we encountered two road agents. Obviously, they had seen our successful capture of the fugitives yesterday and thought that we already had the reward money with us. We didn't, but we were carrying close to $1,000 from other sources, so we were reluctant to give up our money. Actually, I'd be damned if I was going to give up without a fight, especially since we would probably be killed before the situation was resolved, even if we did hand our money over.

Helen and I had planned for this sort of occurrence, so we did not need to discuss our defense. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two double eagles, a lot of money in its own right. I said, "This is all I have in my pockets," and reached toward one of the bandits as if to hand him the money. Naturally, he reached out to take it, but I dropped the gold coins on the ground.

Both of the bandits automatically looked down to see where the money landed, and that was when Helen and I drew our guns. It only took one shot from each of us to eliminate both of the bandits. They were both dead from bullets in the chest near the heart. They kind of melted off their horses, which had stirred at the sound of the gunshots, but had not otherwise moved.

Once the bandits were on the ground, we dismounted. I picked up the two coins that I had dropped before examining the nearest bandit. Helen went to look after the other one.

We found a total of $53 between the two, so this was not a bad way to start the morning. We looted the men and left them lying beside the road, but we took their horses to sell at the next town. We didn't want to return to the previous town, because we were likely to attract more unwelcome attention.

The next town was somewhat larger than the last one, so there were four saloons and three livery stables. We got a good price for the horses and tack, and an acceptable price for their guns, etc. It took most of the rest of the day to visit all four saloons, so we spent the night in the town's only hotel. We didn't find anything worthy of our attention in this town so we moved on the next morning.

We drew a blank in the rest of the towns we visited before reaching San Antonio. This was a city of about 800 permanent residents, so they had seven saloons and two separate brothels. Surely, a city of this size would attract enough crooks to make our visit worth while.

It was late in the day when we got to San Antonio, so we checked into a hotel that had its own stable where we left our horses. We ate a very good supper of Mexican cuisine, and started our visits to the saloons. We thought we had struck gold when we visited the second saloon on our list. We saw Sam Jones at the bar and were about to approach him when he was accosted by another bounty hunter. It would not have been honorable for us to move in on his arrest, so we sat down in chairs at the side of the barroom to watch the show. It was always possible to learn from a fellow professional's actions, but this bounty hunter seemed to do everything wrong.

For one thing, he talked so loud that he could be heard all over the barroom, so everybody knew that he was a bounty hunter making an arrest. He had drawn his pistol, but he had not cocked it; in fact, his thumb was not even on the hammer. Either he had a double action pistol, or he had a serious lack of smarts!

Jones turned to face the arresting bounty hunter and spit in his face. This was so surprising that the bounty hunter was distracted and paused to wipe his face. When he did this, three shots rang out: one from Sam Jones, and one each from two men standing by a table.