Terror of the Mountain Man Read online

  On the same day the newspaper article appeared, Smoke, Sally, and Cal were invited to dinner with Tom Byrd and his family. Pearlie and Old Mo had also been invited but they had respectfully declined, knowing that the real reason for the invitation was to enable Katrina and Cal to spend a little time together.

  “I’m sure you saw the newspaper today,” Tom said.

  “I saw it,” Smoke said. “I wish the story had not been written, but there was no way something like that wasn’t going to be reported.”

  “Does this happen often?” Tom Byrd asked. “I mean, are you often encountered by men whose sole purpose is to see who can kill the other?”

  “Tom, please,” Hazel said. “Do you really think something like this is appropriate conversation to be having at dinner?”

  “I’m sorry, dear. Kirby, Hazel is right, forget about the question. I have no right in asking such a thing.”

  “That’s all right, I don’t mind answering it. And fortunately, the answer is no, I’ve not encountered a lot of men who are looking only to make a name for themself,” Smoke replied. “And I am very sorry it happened here, to put a damper on what has otherwise been a most pleasant and productive visit.”

  Tom smiled. “It hasn’t put a damper on anything, young man. Your visit here has been most delightful and I have enjoyed it very much. The only one who might have enjoyed it more is Katrina.” Tom looked pointedly toward Cal.

  “Papa!” Katrina exclaimed. She looked down in obvious embarrassment, but she didn’t dispute the comment.

  “School will be starting for you on Monday,” Sally said. “During the school year do you live here, or in town?”

  “The school board furnishes a room at the back of the schoolhouse, and I’ll stay there some of the time, but with Sundance, I can stay here and ride into school without any problem.”

  “Good, I’m glad Sundance has made that possible for you,” Smoke said.

  “Sundance is such a beautiful horse. I’m so glad Cal was able to break him for me.”

  Tom Byrd laughed. “Cal didn’t break him for you, honey, he broke him for me. Isn’t that right, Cal?”

  “Well now, Mr. Byrd, I can’t exactly agree with that, seein’ as who wound up with the horse.”

  Tom laughed out loud. “Very good answer. You are a smart young man, Cal.”

  “He’s a good man too,” Smoke said.

  Cal cleared his throat. “This is gettin’ a little embarrassin’. Katrina, would you like to take a walk with me?”

  “I would love to take a walk with you,” Katrina replied.

  The Big House of The Wide Loop ranch was shaded by cottonwood trees. To the west rose a line of sheer cliffs and grassy plateaus. The sun was just going down and it ignited a golden glow that stretched from end to end all along the rim of the cliffs, making them look as if they were on fire.

  “Oh, look,” Katrina said. “Isn’t the sunset beautiful?”

  “Not as beautiful as you are,” Cal replied.

  “Papa likes you,” Katrina said.

  “I like him.”

  “No, you don’t understand. I mean Papa really likes you, the way a man is supposed to like his son-in-law.”

  Cal smiled at her. “I’m not even goin’ to ask you to slow down, ’cause I can tell you right now, I will be comin’ back.”

  “Do you promise?”

  “Yeah, I promise. And it’s not goin’ to take me three months, either. Soon as we get back up there, I’m goin’ to tell Smoke that he needs to hire someone else to take my place, ’cause I’m comin’ back down here to get married.”

  “You are coming down here to get married?” Katrina questioned.

  “Well, yeah, to get married. Look here, Katrina, ain’t that what this here is all about?” The expression on Cal’s face showed his confusion at her response.

  “Well, I don’t know, Mr. Calvin Woods. So far as I know, nobody has asked me to marry them.”

  “Oh,” Cal said. “I guess I haven’t asked you, have I?” Cal took both of Katrina’s hands in his, and stared into her eyes.

  “Katrina, will you marry me?”

  “Yes, Cal! Oh, yes!” Katrina answered happily. She threw her arms around his neck, plastered herself against him, and kissed him deeply.

  The Mexican state of Tamaulipas

  T. B. Keno rolled some spicy beef into a tortilla and took a bite, then addressed the americano, Johnny Lodge, who had come to see him with an offer to sell him a new kind of terrible weapon.

  “With this weapon, one man can duplicate the efforts of twenty men. It would make your small army as powerful as one many times larger. And I have two of them.”

  “What kind of weapon can do such a thing?”

  “I have brought two Gardner guns to you, Colonel,” Lodge said. “They can fire very rapidly.”

  “No, señor, I am not interested. I know about the Gatling gun. They have to be pulled on wheels, behind a team of horses. My army must be very mobile. I cannot be bothered by such a thing.”

  Lodge shook his head. “This is not a Gatling gun, Colonel, it is a Gardner gun. The Gatling gun is very heavy, and, as you say, must be pulled on a gun carriage, such as artillery. The Gardner is much lighter, can easily be transported on horseback, and handled by one man. The Gatling gun has many barrels, the Gardner has but one barrel that is fed from a vertical magazine. When the crank is turned, a feed arm positions a .45 caliber cartridge in the breech, the bolt is closed, and the weapon fires. As you turn the crank, the bolt is opened, the spent case is ejected, a new bullet inserted, and fired again. If you would allow me, I shall set up a demonstration for you.”

  “Yes, I would like to see such a gun,” Keno said.

  Keno followed Lodge outside where, in addition to Lodge’s horse, there were two mules tied to the hitching rack. On each of the mules, there was a cargo pack, each pack carrying a contraption of some sort.

  “Here are the guns,” Lodge said, pointing to the mules. “As you can see, a gun can be easily carried by one mule. And, when we get to a place where I can demonstrate the gun to you, I’ll show you how easy it is for one man to take it from the mule, assemble it, and fire it.”

  “Do it here, señor,” Keno said.

  “Here, Colonel, in the middle of town?”

  “Sí. I want to see you assemble the gun here.”

  Lodge nodded. “All right, if that’s really what you want, I’ll do it for you.”

  He took down the gun, which was in four parts. As he took down each part, he explained what it was.

  “This is the tripod,” he said. “As you said, the Gatling gun must rest on a caisson, but this gun rests on a tripod, which is so light it can easily be held by one hand.”

  Next came the base assembly, which not only connected the gun to the tripod, it was also the means by which the gun could be elevated or traversed.

  “This is the barrel and breech assembly,” he said, connecting the gun to the base.

  “I have never seen a barrel so big around,” Keno said. “Are the bullets so large?”

  Lodge chuckled. “Look, this is the actual gun barrel,” he said, pointing to a .45 caliber protrusion. “This is the water jacket,” he added, laying his hand on the part. “The gun fires bullets so rapidly that the barrel becomes very hot, and it requires water to cool it. You should never fire the gun unless the jacket is filled with water.”

  “Is the jacket filled with water now?”

  “Yes, it is. Now, the last part of the gun, is the ammunition magazine. Here, you see fifty bullets loaded. When you put the magazine here, and turn this crank, it will shoot all fifty rounds in just a few seconds.”

  “That is an amazing gun.”

  “Yes, sir, it sure as hell is. And you can have both of them for a thousand dollars apiece.”

  “A thousand dollars? I think that is much more than the guns cost.”

  “That may be,” Lodge said easily. “But the ordinary person can’t just go buy a gun lik
e this. You have to get them from someone who has them, and who is willing to sell them.” Lodge smiled. “I have them, Colonel, and I am willing to sell them, if the price is right. And my price is one thousand dollars for each gun.”

  “Before I agree to pay so much money, I would like to see the gun fired.”

  Lodge said, “I thought you might. Let me take the gun down, and we’ll go somewhere, where it is safe to shoot it.”

  “Shoot it here, señor.”

  “Here?” Lodge said, a surprised look on his face. “Colonel, we are right in the middle of town. It wouldn’t be a good idea to shoot the gun here.”

  “Shoot the gun here, señor. I want to see it.”

  Lodge shrugged. “All right, what the hell? I may as well, it’s your town, not mine. If someone is hurt, it will not be my concern. What shall I shoot at?”

  At the other end of the plaza, there was a kiosk, plastered with signs advertising goods that could be bought in town. Keno pointed to it.

  “That,” he said. “It is little larger than a man. I should like to see if you can hit that with this gun.”

  “Ha!” Lodge said. “That will be easy.”

  Lodge lay on his stomach behind the gun, then he fit the magazine into the slot on top of the gun. Lining it up with the sights, he started turning the crank.

  The firing began then, a rapid-fire, staccato pop of bullets, the shots coming so close together the sound of shooting could not be separated. At the loud and unexpected sound of so many bullets being fired so rapidly, there were screams of fear, and shouts of surprise from the residents of the town.

  As Lodge continued to fire, the effectiveness of the gun was immediately recognized. Bits and pieces of wood flew from the kiosk, each piece representing the impact of the bullets. Within a few seconds the part of the kiosk that had not been shredded by the bullets was filled with bullet holes.

  Lodge rolled over onto his side and looked up at Keno.

  “What did you think of that, Colonel?” he asked, a triumphant smile on his face. The smile left, when he saw that Keno was pointing a pistol at him.

  “What the hell?” Lodge shouted in surprise, anger, and fear.

  “How dare you shoot up this town, and endanger my people!” Keno shouted in a loud voice. Before Lodge could respond, Keno pulled the trigger, the bullet hitting Lodge in the middle of the forehead.

  “Martinez,” Keno said easily.

  “Sí, Coronel?”

  “Take that gun down and put it back on the mule.” Keno smiled. “We now have two marvelous guns.”

  “Sí, Coronel.”

  Shortly after Martinez left, Vargas came back from his scouting expedition down to the Byrd ranch, and he went into the cantina where Keno had set up his office, in order to render his report.

  “There are two hundred of them, Coronel, fine, strong horses already broken. It will not be hard to steal them.”

  “The rancho is near the pueblo of San Vicente, is it not?”

  “Sí, Coronel. And there is but one sheriff and one deputy in the village.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Wide Loop

  When the last horse was broken, and trained by Old Mo to be an effective cow pony, Tom Byrd decided to have a barbeque to tell Smoke and the others good-bye. To that end, half a steer was spitted and placed over a fire early in the morning, and the men took turns slowly rotating the meat throughout the entire day.

  The ranch was permeated with the rich aroma of cooking meat, those smells augmented by the pies and pastries that were also being prepared.

  Cal and Katrina found a place under a tree where they could be relatively alone.

  As Katrina put the food out onto the two plates, Cal stretched out on his side, supporting his head on his hand, his body close to hers. His hat lay beside him, and his hair, dampened by the warmth of the summer day, was forming haphazard curls against his forehead. She reached out to brush the dark brown hair aside, and when she did he caught her hand. Without a word being said, she leaned forward to kiss him. It was neither demanding nor hesitant, but the kiss of two people who had grown quite comfortable with each other.

  “All of your friends will see us,” Katrina said. “Does that bother you?”

  “No. They’ll all be jealous of me,” Cal said. “Let ’em look all they want.”

  They kissed again.

  “For cryin’ out loud, Cal, let the girl eat, will you? She’s goin’ to starve to death, if you don’t quit kissin’ her,” Pearlie called, and the other cowboys laughed.

  Cal sat up quickly.

  “Why, Cal, you’re blushing!” Katrina said. “And here I thought you said you didn’t care if your friends were watching.”

  “It’s you I’m thinkin’ about,” Cal said. “I don’t want you to be embarrassed.”

  “I’m not embarrassed at all,” Katrina said, leaning forward to kiss him again.

  After the meal the cowboys engaged in various activities, such as throwing horseshoes, lassoing, and shooting at targets. Then Old Mo surprised everyone when he produced a bow and a quiver of arrows.

  “Where did that come from?” Pearlie asked.

  “I found a good limb on that hickory tree by the barn,” Old Mo said. “So I made myself a bow.”

  He showed the bow to the others, and several commented on how smooth the wood was, and the quality of the workmanship.

  “Mo, can you actually shoot that thing?” Stan asked.

  “I can shoot it.”

  “Shoot at something,” Stan challenged.

  Mo fitted an arrow into the string, then looked around. “What would you like me to shoot at?” he asked.

  The name of the ranch, THE WIDE LOOP, was painted on the barn, just above the wide door opening. Stan pointed to the painted sign. “Can you hit one of the O’s in that sign?”

  “Which O?”

  “The first one.”

  “Come on, Stan,” Cal said. “That’s more ’n a hundred yards away. Most folks would be doing well to hit that with a rifle. Find something else.”

  “No, it’s all right,” Old Mo said. “I’ll do it for ’im.”

  Old Mo lifted the bow, pulled the string back, sighted along the arrow, then lifted his fingers.

  The string sung as it whipped forward, and the arrow flashed away from the bow, made a long, swift, graceful arc, then stuck with a solid thock sound, almost exactly in the middle of the first letter O in the word “Loop.”

  Everyone who watched the demonstration applauded appreciatively.

  “I’m very impressed, Mr. Morris,” Tom said. “Where did you learn to shoot a bow so well?”

  “I spent some time with the Injuns,” Old Mo said without further explanation.

  Both Thomas Byrd and his daughter, Katrina, went to the depot to see Smoke and the others off. Katrina and Cal wandered down to the far end of the platform to have a few private moments before the train would arrive.

  “I don’t want you to be late for school,” Cal said.

  “The train leaves at seven, school doesn’t start until eight. I have plenty of time.”

  “Good. I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble because of me.”

  Katrina chuckled. “Papa is the president of the school board. I wouldn’t get into trouble even if I didn’t show up.”

  “Good.”

  “Will you write to me?” Katrina asked.

  “I will, but remember, I’m not educated like you are. I’m sure I won’t spell all my words right. Oh, wait, I can get Miz Sally to . . .”

  “No, don’t do that.”

  “What?”

  Katrina put her hand on Cal’s cheek. “Don’t you think you might want to say something that you want only me to see?”

  Cal chuckled. “Yeah, I reckon you’re right. All right, I’ll write and you might just have to figure out what I’m saying.”

  “Cal, I read things written by first, second, and third graders. Trust me, I’ll be able to read and understand any
thing you write.”

  “Here comes the train!” somebody shouted.

  “Well, I guess we’d better get down there with the others,” Cal said.

  “Cal, I’ll still feel this way, even after you have gone,” Katrina said.

  Cal smiled at her. “I’m glad that you do, because I’ll be coming back as soon as I can. I’m not going to be waiting any three months like I said. It won’t even be one month.”

  “Are you going to kiss me good-bye?” Katrina asked. “Or, are you too embarrassed to do it in front of your friends?”

  “If I wasn’t too embarrassed to kiss you at the barbeque, I’m not too embarrassed to kiss you now. You sure you want me to kiss you in front of your pa?”

  “Why not? Do you think Papa doesn’t know how I feel about you?”

  “All right,” Cal said and, wrapping his arms around her, he pulled Katrina to him, and she raised her lips to his.

  He had never kissed anyone in quite this way before, and he thought he actually felt the blood moving through his veins.

  They held the kiss until the locomotive passed by them, clanking and puffing as it did so. Not until that moment were they aware that they weren’t alone, but were in the wide open, being observed by her father and his friends.

  They parted then walked slowly together down to where Pearlie, Old Mo, Smoke, Sally, and Tom Byrd were all standing.

  The good-byes were said, and Smoke and the others boarded the train. Cal stayed on the step even as the train got under way, and Katrina walked along beside the slowly moving train. She and Cal held hands for as long as she could keep pace. Then as the train began to gather speed she stopped and held her hand up in a final wave. By now, tears were coming down her face.

  Tom Byrd came up to put his arm around her. “Do you love him, darlin’?”

  “Yes, Papa,” Katrina replied. “I love him more than anything in the world.”

  “I just want you to be careful, is all. I don’t him to break your heart.”

  “He won’t hurt me, Papa. He said he is coming back as soon as he can, and I know that he will.”