Rio Loco (20 page)

We all had a real calm and quiet night, even with ole Owl Shit still a-setting in my jailhouse, but I had gone on ahead and turned a-loose all a' my extry depitties. Chugwater were out loose somewheres, but he didn't have no cowhands left to attack us with. I figgered I'd ride out to his ranch in the morning and see were he hanging around out there or not. I'd take ole Happy with me and leave Butcher to watch the jailhouse and Owl Shit. I'd left Butcher set up overnight to watch Owl Shit anyhow while the rest of us went to our own sweet beds. I, of course, was snuggled down with my sweet nipples Bonnie in our bed upstairs in the Hooch House, and I can tell you, we didn't go right to sleep that night neither.

So in the morning, after I'd had my breakfast and several cups a' hot coffee and a good tall tumbler a' brown whiskey, and Bonnie were still sleeping soundly upstairs, I got holt a' Happy Bonapart, and me and him rid out to Chugwater's place. We rid in real careful, and then we stopped and stared at the house. The place surely did appear to be deserted,
but I weren't about to take no unnecessary chances with a skunk like Chugwater.

“Do you think he's there, Barjack?” Happy ast me.

“I don't think, Happy,” I said. “I just don't know. All I know for sure is that we never kilt him, and he got outta town.”

I nudged my ole horse on and eased him up to the front porch. Happy come along with me. Still a-watching the house, I clumb down outta the saddle. I stood there for a spell once again and stared at the house. Happy follered along. We tied the horses and stepped real easy up onto the porch. There was still nothing, so I put my hand on the door handle and tried it. The door come right open. I let it swing wide, and I drawed out my Merwin Hulbert six-shooter. Happy drawed his Colt. We went on inside, me first and Happy a-follering. We stood there in Chugwater's big living room and looked around. Neither Chugwater nor no one else poked his nose out to see who was messing around in his home. Final I said, “Let's search the place.”

We went around from one room to another and we never seen no one. “Barjack,” Happy said, “it seems like all a' that fighting and killing was all for nothing. Owl Shit's still a-setting in the jailhouse. Chugwater's lost his entire ranch crew. He's a-loose somewheres, but nothing's really changed except for Chugwater's ranch.”

“It weren't all for nothing,” I said. “We still got our prisoner. That's what it was all for, and don't never forget that.”

“Yes, sir,” he said.

We went back outside and climbed onto our horses. Then we rid around the ranch a bit a-looking for any signs a' life. We didn't see none but 'cept cattle. Before we left, I went back inside a' the house and lit it afire. Then we rid off a space and set and watched the place go up in smoke and flames. Chugwater wouldn't have no home to go back to. Well, I didn't want them poor cattle to be neglected and starve, so I had Happy help me, and we driv them on over to my ranch and turned them a-loose with what few animals I had over there. Now I had such a damn big herd I figgered I would have to hire me a crew a' cowboys to watch over them.

I hadn't never wanted to be no big shot cattle man, but now I didn't have much choice. I would have to find me a damn good foreman somewheres. I set for quite a spell a-studying and contemplating my new herd and thinking about my new status as a rancher. I final reckoned that it was fitting and proper that I was moving up a little in the world. I was already rich, and it weren't quite proper to say that I was a rich marshal and a saloon owner. A rancher was a heap more respectable. So I would become a rancher, and them other two things would just be my sidelines so to speak. At last I tole Happy let's get our ass back to town, and we rid out.

Back in town I had Happy to relieve Butcher, and me and Butcher went on over to the Hooch House and set at my private and personal table. Bonnie were down by that time, and she were
a-setting with us. I made up my mind that I were going to get good and drunk that night. Ole Aubrey brung me a tall tumbler a' my favorite whiskey, and I went to work on it. By and by Churkee and his Polly come in and set with us. I ast Churkee what it was he intended to do with his life, and he said that he didn't have no plans.

“What do you know about herding cows?” I said.

“I worked a few ranches back in the Cherokee Nation,” he said.

“Could you maybe ramrod a place?”

“If I had one I could,” he said, “but I ain't got no money to get a ranch.”

“Well,” I said, “it just so happens that I got a pretty good one outside a' town. It has a nice little ranch house what just needs a little fixing up, and it's got a good-sized herd a' cattle now. All it needs is a good crew to work it for me. You interested?”

“I reckon I could be,” he said.

“I growed up on a ranch,” said Polly.

So I figgered it was settled, and I went back to my drinking. By God, I thunk, I had come a long ways for a little snot-nosed kid from New York City what had run away from home on a damn freight train. Well, I went on and got good and drunk that night and slept real good again. Whenever I woked up in the morning, I learnt that Churkee and Polly had went out to my ranch, so I reckoned that it was indeed settled. They had went out and tuck up residence. I were real glad for that, on account a' I could have my big ranch
and big herd a' cattle and not have to worry over none a' it. That's the way I wanted it. But I learnt right quick that things was far from settled.

About the middle a' the afternoon, them two come a-riding back into town and found me at my reg'lar spot in the Hooch House. I could tell by the look on their face that they was some kinda trouble. They come up to my table and set their asses down, and, “Barjack,” said Churkee, “we got problems out at your ranch.”

“What kinda problems we got?” I ast him.

“Me and Polly rode all over the place this morning,” he said, “and we never seen one cow.”

“Nor a bull nor steer neither,” Polly added.

“What?” I said. “There had ought to be a good bunch out there. I had a few, and then me and Happy went and driv all a' Chugwater's cattle over to my place.”

“They ain't there now,” Churkee said.

“Let me gether up Butcher and Happy and let's all of us ride out there.”

So I done that, and the five of us rid out to my ranch. Not that I didn't believe Churkee, but we rid all over the place again just in case, and sure 'nuff, there weren't no cattle nowhere. We couldn't find no sign telling us what had tuck place out there neither. We was just a-setting on our horses and staring out at the empty prairie where all a' my cattle should ought to've been at.

“Churkee,” I said.

“What, Barjack?”

“You know, we never did get ole Chugwater.”

“And he won't quit, will he?”

“No, sirree,” I said, “I don't reckon he will. I should ought to have left one a' these two”—I motioned at Happy and Butcher—“back at the jail to watch over Owl Shit. Chugwater might be hitting there next.”

“Should we all get back in there and watch for him?” Butcher said.

“First things first,” I said. “Let's think on this problem a' the rustled cattle.”

I thunk and thunk as hard as ever I could, and then I recollected that ole Chugwater had a little valley on his place that were kinda hard to get to, and it snugged right up against my own property. A man could run a fair-sized herd into there and block them off pretty easy with some brush and stuff. And all he'd have to do to get them off a' my property would be to just cut a fence.

“Come on,” I said. “I got a idee.”

I whipped up my ole horse and lit out for that part a' my ranch what was right there where I was a-thinking about. In a while we was there, and sure enough, I seen where my fence had been cut.

“Someone has cut your fence, Barjack,” said Happy.

“Tell me something else what ain't readily available to my eyeballs,” I said. I kept on a-riding and led the rest right through that cut fence. We rid on down into the valley and by and by we come on the cattle. It looked to me like the whole damn herd.

“Chugwater has reclaimed them,” said Churkee, “and he's added yours in too.”

“Well, we're a-fixing re-reclaim the bastards,”
I said. “Let's get them moving. Right on through the fence where they've already been through. Come on.”

I whipped up my ole horse and the others did the same. We bunched them up first, and then we got them turned in the right direction and started them moving. They bawled and bitched and moaned, but they moved in the right direction. Now and then one ole ornery cow would wander off in her own direction, and one of us would have to chase her back into the herd. We had a few unruly calves to chase down now and then too. It tuck us most a' the afternoon, but we got them back onto my own place, and then we clumb down outta our saddles and mended the damn fence.

I got to wondering who in the hell invented fences in the first place, and it come to me that I would enjoy the hell outta shooting the son of a bitch if I could locate his ass. But we got it did. We rid back to the ranch house, and Churkee and Polly got off a' their horses. “I think we'll just stay right here, Barjack,” said Churkee. “I want to keep my eye on that herd. Chugwater might come back, and I ain't hankering to mend that fence again.”

“Butcher,” I said, “why don't you stay here with them in case there's any more trouble?”

“Yes, sir,” he said.

So me and Happy headed back in, now that the cow problem was settled, at least for a time. I had decided to leave Butcher out there with Churkee and Polly on account a' he didn't know nothing about cows and ranches and such, and I figgered
he might could learn a little bit by staying out there. And if I was to have just one depitty with me, I had ruther it be Happy than Butcher. I didn't have to worry so much about Happy.

We was riding back into Asininity when Happy ast me, “Do you think it was really Chugwater what cut that fence?”

“Who else?” I said. “He musta seen what we done to his ranch, and he's wanting to get some even. Hell, he might even try to burn my house down out there. Damn. I shoulda warned Churkee about that there possibility.”

“If you're right, Barjack,” Happy said, “that means that Chugwater's still hanging around these here parts.”

“It sure does mean that, Happy,” I said, “and with Owl Shit back snug in jail, it means he could be anywhere trying to pull anything. His ranch, my ranch, the jailhouse. Hell, even the Hooch House. Don't forget, Happy, he ain't above turning on women.”

“Yes, sir.”

We made it back to town, and the first thing we done was we went by the jail and checked on Owl Shit. He were still in his jail cell a-sulking. I figgered he had good reason to sulk, though, on account a' ever' day, he were getting closer to a hanging. “Howdy, Owl Shit,” I said. “You ain't saw your brother today, has you?”

“No. I ain't. You blowed him up anyhow.”

“No, Owl Shit, we never. We never found no remains we couldn't count for over at that ole hotel.”

“Chugwater ain't dead?” he said.

“He's still out there somewheres,” I tole him.

“He'll still be a-coming for me,” he said.

“I'll be surprised if he don't.”

I got the bottle outta my desk drawer and poured me and Happy each a drink, and we set down to drink them. Outta the corner a' my eyeball, I seen Owl Shit with his mouth a-watering, but I wasn't in no mood to take no pity on that son of a bitch. I finished my drink and got up, and I said, “Happy, I want you to stay here in the jailhouse. I'm going out to look around some more.”

“Yes, sir,” he said.

I went on out, and when I did, I heared Happy say, grumblinglike, to Owl Shit, “Damn your hide, it's your fault I have to stay around here like as if I was in jail.” And then I heared Owl Shit laugh. I kept on a-walking, and I never heared no more after that, but I reckon ole Happy done something mean to Owl Shit. It just ain't like Happy to take no guff off a' no damned outlaw.

I hadn't tole Happy, but I never went on back over to the Hooch House. I walked right past it, and I went over to Miss Lillian's fancy eating place. She didn't look none too thrilled to see me a-coming in, and when I ast her for ole Sly, she said he weren't there.

“Well, where might I could find him?” I ast her.

“It wouldn't be too stupid to look at the house,” she said. “But don't go inside. Just ask for him at the door. He can go outside to talk to you.”

“Yes'm,” I said. Now, ain't that a hell of a way to talk to your own ex-wife? Miss Lillian had a way about her to make you act thattaway, though. She
really did. As I walked outta her place a' business, I reached up and felt a' my ear there where she had shot a chunk out of it that one time. I walked on over to the house what had one time been my house, and there I seen ole Sly a-setting on the front porch with a cup a' coffee.

“Barjack,” he said whenever he spotted me a-coming, “what brings you around?”

I walked on up to his porch and tuck the other chair what was setting there. I were panting kinda hard by this time. I tuck my hat off and mopped my forehead with a rag I carried in my pocket.

“Sly,” I said, “you know, we never got ole Chugwater.”

“Yes,” he said. “I know.”

“He's still around.”

I told him about my fence and my cattle. I told him about leaving Churkee and Polly with Butcher out to my ranch. I told him that Happy were minding the jail. “I suppose you're wanting to go out looking for Chugwater,” he said.

“He might try anything,” I said. “He might keep after my cattle, or he might go after Owl Shit. Hell, he might even go after Bonnie again. You just never know about that slick son of a bitch.”