Chapter 2

I stripped the kid of his valuables and took his horse. I was definitely not going to make extra trouble for myself by taking the kid's body back to town. He could just vanish into the unknown for all I cared. I did like his horse better than mine, so I did switch. Damned if his saddle wasn't a better fit for me than the junker that I had bought, so I felt like I had made a good exchange. I also picked up another '73 Winchester, also in .44-40. His pistol was a Navy Colt converted to use .38 caliber cartridges. I figured that it would make a good hide out pistol and dropped it into my right boot top.

I even ate his bread and cheese sandwich for lunch as I continued to ride toward Laredo. That night was spent in a hotel in a small town whose name I forgot as soon as I heard it. The next morning, I resumed my trip. I had sold my extra rifle, so I was footloose and fancy free. The ride along this area was not all that exciting, but finally something did come up.

I heard gunfire in the distance, so I hurried my horse to see what was going on. Two men were in a freight wagon and trying to fight off a gang of nine Comanches who were riding around and around the wagon. The Indians were all young, possibly on their first raiding party. They were more interested in showing off to each other than in killing the two Whites in the wagon, but somebody was going to be hurt with that much lead flying.

I figured that I should help the men in the wagon, so I rode up to within 200 yards and halted. This was close enough for me to be sufficiently accurate with my rifle to shoot the horses, which was my plan. His horse was an Indian's most prized possession, so I should make an impression if I killed a few of them. The riders might or might not get hurt in the process, but that was their problem. After all, they had started the trouble.

My first shot was a good one. A horse fell in front of another one, and that horse fell, too. Two down, and the Indians were now looking for me. I shot all 14 rounds that I had in the rifle magazine and knocked over seven of the nine horses before they could get to me. The other two horses were shot by the men in the wagon, so we now had four unhorsed Comanches.

Talk about pissed off Indians! They charged me on foot with their rifles. They were trying to shoot while running, and that was no better than shooting while riding at full blast. I was not afraid of being hit by a bullet under these circumstances, so I held my place and waited for them to get close enough for my pistol.

The Indians dropped their rifles when they ran out of ammunition and switched to their war clubs. Now, those things were something to be frightened of. The war club consisted of a stone weighing 1½-2 pounds on a staff about two feet long. That was a potent weapon if the wielder could get close enough to use it, so I was much more concerned about putting these boys out of action.

I had four attackers and only five shots, so I had to be sure of my aim. I did manage to hit three of the attackers in the body and they were put out of the fight forthwith. The fourth man was smart enough to dodge back and forth as he ran at me. I only had one shot left, so I had to let him get very close before I fired. Thank God, I did manage to hit him in the chest. That massive .44 bullet spun him around when it hit, but he turned a full 360° and still tried to hit me with his war club as he fell. I would have been hit if he had been inches closer, and I would have had broken bones, even if I had not been killed. That was a closer call than I like to contemplate.

I quickly reloaded my pistol and holstered it. Then, I began reloading my rifle as I walked my horse toward the wagon. I finished that just before I reached the wagon and met two grateful teamsters. "Howdy, Sir. We sure do appreciate yer help in that little tiff. Them damned Injuns sure did want our mules. I 'spect that six mules would be a monster coup for them kids. They would have a banquet ta end them all back at their village with that kind of loot."

"You are welcome, Gentlemen. It was my pleasure to be of assistance. Where are y'all headed?"

"We're 'sposed ta deliver this here shipment of miscellaneous hardware ta a hardware store in Hopedale. That's 'bout 25 miles from here."

"That's on my way, so I'll ride along with y'all for the company if y'all don't mind. I'm headed to Laredo, but I'm not in any hurry to get there."

"Fine, Mister, I'm Joe Hazard and this here is Sam Gosswith. What do we call ya?"

"Most anything will do, but my name is John Wilson. I'm pleased to meet y'all."

That produced a small laugh, and we paused there a bit longer to take the time to clear the road. The Comanches had nothing any of us wanted, so we just left them where they were. We did have to dispatch three of the horses who had broken legs, so we got nothing from the meeting but the satisfaction of having survived. I did decide that I wanted a second revolver—five shots were just not enough, even with the fast reloading I got with the S&W top break revolver.

We camped beside the road that night in a place that Joe and Sam used regularly. They had enough food to share with me, and they even had enough coffee to go around. We sat there exchanging stories well into the evening. My stories were made from my adventures in other lives, but with changes in minor details to fit the local conditions.

The next afternoon, we pulled into Hopedale, and I didn't hang around while the wagon was unloaded. Instead, I stopped by the gunshop to pick up another pistol like my current one. Fortunately, he also had a matching holster so that I now had two guns on my belt. I was going to have to practice with my left hand to be sure that I could shoot with it, but I was pretty sure that was not going to be a lost cause, based on my previous experience.

As agreed, Joe and Sam met me for a beer at their favorite saloon. We each bought a round and then adjourned to a restaurant for supper. They both ordered the beef and beans, but I ordered the elk stew. It was pretty good, and I recommended it to my companions the next time they ate there.

They went to the hotel and to bed, since they had to be up early to make their return trip. We bid each other goodbye with wishes for good luck and a long life. I went back to visit a saloon just to see what the night life would be like in Hopedale. Of course, I was kidding myself. The night life of any small Western town consisted of alcohol, poker, and saloon whores. I was not really interested in the first or the last of the choices, so I thought to look in on the possibilities of some poker.

My poker skills were a little rusty, but I had been a damned good player back in my SEAL days, so I had some hope. I did take a few minutes for me to find an open seat, but it did give me time to look over the game and to decide that the dealer was honest enough.

I finally got in and lost a little bit on the first three hands. That was all it took for my poker prowess to resurge, and I began to win much more than I lost. There were no hard feelings as it was obvious that I was not cheating, and I came out about $15 ahead at the end of the game about midnight. I was feeling pretty good with the realization that I could make a living at poker if I chose to.

The next morning I slept late and barely made it in for breakfast. I started out for Laredo about mid morning, and just ambled along at a fast walk. I was in no hurry, and, if the truth be told, I was still a little bit sleepy from the late night poker game. I was about an hour from town when two men rode out to stop me and demand my money.