Chapter 3: The hunt for Hunter

I spent a lot of time in Mr. Schwartz's firing range practicing a quick draw with my shoulder holster. He let me use his range because I bought a lot of ammunition from him. I have been at it for three weeks, and Mr. Schwartz said that I was the fastest he had ever seen at drawing a gun. That made me feel good, but I knew that there was surely somebody around who was faster than me. I worked on making up for that flaw with my accuracy. I got to the point that I could draw and hit my target within a two-inch radius at 10 yards. I could do a five-inch radius at 20 yards, and I figured that was good enough for the kind of shooting I expected to get involved in.

Mr. Schwartz also suggested that I get familiar with the Winchester .44-40 rifle. He offered to modify my pistol for that cartridge if I bought the rifle from him. I knew that he was doing me a favor, and I appreciated it. He also did not charge me for putting a peep-sight (aperture sight) on the Winchester that would have windage and elevation adjustments. Now, that was real friendship. I knew how much effort and time that required, and it was almost enough to let him take apart my USAS-12 shotgun.

Finally, I was confident enough with my new weapons to venture out into the real world with them. My first trip was out looking for Jesse Hunter, who was reputed to have been seen pulling off a bank robbery in a town about 30 miles east of Tucson. There was a $500 price on Jesse Hunter's head, and I was not the only bounty hunter heading to Wolf Flats.

It seemed like the population of Wolf Flats must have doubled with all of the bounty hunters who had shown up. I almost left town when I saw the level of competition. It was the quantity more than the quality of the competition that bothered me. I could not see Hunter hanging around with so many men looking for him.

Shit! I was pissed off to have come this far and then leave without having even a chance to find Hunter. Oh, well, my luck may have changed, but I still had plenty of money left from my previous encounters. I figured to check out every town within a reasonable radius of Wolf Flats. I might just get a clue about Hunter from one of those places.

I did not even spend the night in Wolf Flats but left as soon as I visited my first saloon and got a rough count of the bounty hunters in there drinking beer. I guessed that the bartenders were going to make more money from Jesse Hunter than were any of those bounty hunters. I spent enough time with a friendly local man (he was more friendly after I bought him a beer) who helped me draw a sketch map of the local area with the nearby towns marked on it.

It was a long way from dark when I left for the nearest of the adjacent towns. It was just getting dark when I rode into town and found the hotel. I booked a room and went to the hotel restaurant for supper. The only thing wrong with the meal was that it cost me 35¢, and that did not include coffee! Oh, well, I did not expect to be here long so I could afford the high prices for a couple of days.

After supper, I began making the rounds of the saloons. I was still pretty naïve about the questions I asked, so I said more than I should. The upshot was that I did not get any useful information about Jesse Hunter, but probably left lying around too much information about me.

I got nothing that I could use from any of the saloons so I went to bed. The next morning, I ate breakfast and rode toward the next town on my list. I had gone about a mile when my horse stepped into a shadow that was already being used by a rattlesnake. The snake was more annoyed than anything else, so it did not seriously strike at the horse, but it did impress the horse enough to make it jump. That jump saved my life!

Just as my horse reacted to the snake, I heard a rifle shoot and my hat suddenly grew a new hole in the crown. That bullet did not miss me by more than an inch, so I figured that the shooter had to be close and had to know who he was shooting at. I acted like I had been hit and kind of oozed off my horse. I did take my new Winchester with me as I went down to the ground. I was now armed with the rifle, the shotgun, and the Starr revolver. I was prepared to shoot at anything!

I looked around as best I could and saw the remnants of the powder smoke from the rifle shot aimed at me. It was on the far side of my horse as I had made a point of "falling" to the side away from the aforementioned rattlesnake. The smoke showed that the shooter was hidden among some rocks about 50 yards away.

Fortunately for me, there were some rocks that I could hide behind not 10 feet from where I was lying, and my horse was blocking the line of sight to them from the shooter. I managed to slither to the rocks without drawing a shot. Once I was covered by the rocks, I threw a small stone at my horse's hip to make him move. He did move about 10-12 feet out of the way so that I could now see the rocks where my attacker had been hiding.

Of course, there was no guarantee that he was still there, but I was sure that he would still be in the neighborhood. If he were in any way like me, he would hang around to make sure that the bullet recently fired had done its job. Aha! I caught a glimpse of movement at those rocks. Somebody was still there!

My Winchester was very accurate now that it had a decent sight. I lined up on the rocks and waited as patiently as I could. Fortunately, my horse found some grass to his liking and was peacefully chomping away at it without getting in the way. I was about to give up when I spotted some more motion in that clump of rocks. I had adjusted my sight for elevation, but there was no wind to bother with, so I was ready when a shoulder became visible at the edge of a large rock.

I fired as soon as enough of the enemy's body was visible. I did not want to kill the shooter because I wanted to use him as a source of information as to where I could find Jesse Hunter. I figured that a shattered shoulder was just exactly the kind of wound that I was hoping for, and that was how I framed my shot. Dammit, but I was a good shot when I took my time and put my mind to it!

I saw blood fly, and I heard a scream of pain. I was pretty sure that I had placed my shot where I wanted it, but I was not foolish enough to expose my body to a possible return shot. Instead, I crawled around the rocks and stayed hidden as much as possible as I made my way to where I expected to find a wounded man.

That 50 yards was not easy to traverse—for one thing, I had to be alert for snakes and scorpions. I took just over 15 minutes to progress that 50 yards, but I was in no hurry to get shot because of lack of caution. It was just as well that I was cautious in my approach because my enemy was waiting for me with a drawn revolver in his left hand. His right shoulder was a mangled mess of blood and flesh. I wondered if my bullet had ricocheted off that rock that he had been leaning against just before it hit him. That would certainly account for the mass of torn flesh and shards of bone that I could see.

I had allowed for the man to shift his position, and I had come in behind him. He could not see me because of my position, but I could see enough of him to place a shot to make him even more miserable. I said, "I have you covered. Place your gun on the ground and push it out of reach, or I will put a bullet through your other shoulder."

"Please do not shoot me, Mister. I am in bad enough shape as it is." He did as I asked with his gun, and I walked around to face him.