Chapter 3

Chad Wilson gave me a complete rundown on how ta make a profit at bounty huntin'. I got a receipt fer the outlaw from the nearest town marshal, an we rode ta the courthouse ta pick up the reward. We picked up a flock of wanted posters, but Chad told me ta forgit about the ones without a picture. The written descriptions were too vague ta be worth payin' any attention ta.

We went ta a saloon where Chad had a beer an' I had a coffee while we looked through the posters. He pointed out that the posters generally fell into three groups, those with rewards of $25 an' less, those with rewards of $50-100, and those with rewards for over $100. It was his opinion that it was not worth makin' a special effort ta go after outlaws in the first group, an' there were very few outlaws in the third group, soz he concentrated on those in the middle. I had ta agree that his ideas seemed reasonable, an' I was gonna follow them fer now. I might change my mind later, but that was what I would do fer now.

Chad also recommended that I develop a taste fer beer, 'cause a saloon was the best place ta pick up information on who was new in town an' such thin's like that. He also suggested that I concentrate on Mexican beer, since it generally tasted a hell of a lot better than the local stuff. Sure, it was more expensive, but one or two of them could carry ya through a session at a saloon.

He also pointed out that the poker table was a good source of information, soz I should learn the game. I pointed out that I already knew how ta play. I had learned from my Pa, but I did not know how good I was. He suggested that I join a game in progress an' see how I did. That should give us some basic information.

I sat down in an empty place and dropped a Double Eagle on the table. That startled Chad, as well as the other players. OK, I was in fer $20, an' that was the limit fer the table at this time. There was a pro runnin' the game, but he looked like he was relatively new ta the profession, himself. Anyway, I played fer about an hour an' won $3 over my original $20. I figured that I had proved my point, soz I dropped out afore anybody got mad at me fer winnin' too much.

When I got up from the table, Chad whistled an' said, "Remind me never ta play again' ya. Ya are good enough ta be a pro, an' ya never cheated! If I were ya, I would take up gamblin' instead of bounty huntin'. Ya are less likely ta git shot!"

I laughed an' said, "Yeah, but then I would be stuck inside all of the time. However, it was easier than I thought. I might take up poker when the weather gits too bad ta be outside." Chad just shook his head an' suggested that I try a Mexican beer.

I used my winnin's ta buy us each a Mexican beer. My God! He was right about the price. Mexican beer was 8¢ a bottle! Shit, it better be good at that price! We took our beers ta one side of the barroom an' I sipped away at the beer. I sure did not like it at first, but the taste did start ta gain on me. I was able ta finish the bottle without grimacin', but it was work fer a while. Chad said that one was enough fer my first try at it, an' I sure agreed with him.

I did not realize how much affect the beer had on me 'til I stood up. I got about half way ta my feet and fell back inta my chair. I was suddenly so dizzy that I was not sure which way was up! Chad laughed an' said that next time I should not drink beer except on a full stomach. He apologized fer not expectin' me ta have such a reaction ta my first beer. Chad explained that he had been drinkin' beer fer so long that it usually took five or six bottles of Mexican beer for it ta have so much effect on him.

I laughed an' then started ta throw up. I managed ta suppress it, but Chad grabbed my arm an' dragged me ta the jakes. By the time I got there, I was not able ta hold it. I spewed beer quite a ways from my mouth afore I could git myself under control. Chad laughed as he helped me clean up, but I didn't think that it was one damned bit funny! He helped me ta the hotel an' ta git ready fer bed. I was asleep afore I hit the bed!

When I woke up the next mornin', I had one hell of a headache. I managed ta git dressed an' stumble down ta breakfast. I had ta drink three cups of coffee afore I felt human again. Shit, I never wanted ta look at beer again!

When we finished eatin', Chad reminded me that he had a meetin' in Ft. Worth that he had ta git ta, soz I bade him goodbye with thanks fer his advice. We wished each other well, an' it was quite a while afore I ever saw Chad again.

I went back ta the saloon I had visited last night an' asked the bartender ifen he knew of any jobs. He said that the only one he knew of was as a guard on a freight shipment headed ta Waco. I ain't never been a hired gun afore, but I figured "what the hell" an' went ta the freight office ta see ifen the job was still open. It was, an' I was ta be one of four guards makin' the trip. I was the last one ta be hired, soz the wagon train of six ox-drawn wagons was due ta leave in two days. My curiosity just would not let it lie, soz I asked what was so valuable that it had ta have an armed guard. The answer was liquor!

This was the regular monthly shipment ta a liquor warehouse in Waco, an' there had been some previous robbery attempts. OK, I could believe that, but I wondered just how serious bandits could be about hittin' a load of booze. Oh, well, I didn't care too much, since I was gittin' paid the princely sum of $30 an' found (food an' drink) fer the projected 10-day trip. Hell, $3 a day was more than most jobs paid for a week of work! I should of suspected that this job was not gonna be easy with that kind of pay scale, but I was still too naïve ta smell a rat.

We left on a Wednesday mornin', an' I was a little surprised when I was issued a coach gun. It was double barrel in 10-gauge, an' it used somethin' entirely new ta me. It was a breech-loadin' shotgun an' it used metallic cartridges. We were issued 12 cartridges loaded with #00 buckshot. I also had my Mississippi rifle an' my two Colts, so I was loaded for bear! I felt especially confident 'cause I had four extra cylinders fer my Colts, plus I had enough paper cartridges fer 12 full reloads. Man, I was ready ta fight a war ifen I had ta!

There was not much call fer us guards fer the first two miles, soz the chief guard, Ezra Stone, told us where ta work on this first day. Ezra was ridin' point, the two others were flankers, an' I was ridin' drag. Drag was not as bad a position as it might be, since oxen do not move beyond a slow walk; therefore, they do not stir up much dust. Anyway, I relaxed as much as I could while not goin' too far in that direction. I remembered what happened the last time I was day-dreamin' in dangerous country. I was lucky ta git out of that bind, but I might not be so lucky the next time.

The first two days of the trip were borin' as hell! We was travelin' over pretty flat country, or, at least, the road was flat. Sometimes there were trees all around us an' sometimes there was farmland, but none of it was the kind of scenery ta capture a young man's attention fer very long. However, at last somethin' happened!

The first sign of trouble was when Ezra fired off a warnin' shot because there was a tree lyin' across the road. The obvious thin' ta do was fer us guards ta loop our ropes around the limbs an' drag the tree out of the way. On the other hand, the obvious thin' fer bandits ta do was ta shoot all of us guards while we were all together an' distracted by tryin' ta move a heavy tree.