Bullets Don't Argue Read online

  “You have my thanks, Possum,” she said humbly, “and I’ll pay you some of Dan’s share of that bank money for your trouble.” She was more than willing to pay him for the expense of the trip. He was getting along in years, but having him along was a sight better than traveling alone.

  “No such a thing,” Possum said again, making an effort to cheer her up. “I’d like to see Butcher Bottom.” His almost-white whiskers parted enough to permit a smile.

  * * *

  John Gates pulled over close to his brother and commented, “Looks like somebody’s havin’ some trouble.” He pointed to a wagon jacked up on the far bank of the river with the left rear wheel off.

  “Yeah, I’ve been watchin’ him for a while,” Rubin replied. “Looks like one man and one woman. We’d best cross a little farther over this way.” He pointed toward a low bank east of the straw bridge the Doan family had built out of hay. In the summer, the river was usually down so low that there was a danger of quicksand, so they built the bridge for the cattle to cross. The charge was twenty-five cents per head, but after John’s inspection of the river bottom, he decided it was unnecessary to drive their herd across the bridge. The two brothers were riding point on a cattle drive of three thousand cows that had left Lamar County, Texas, two weeks before. Having pushed the herd west far enough to reach the crossing at Doan’s Store, they prepared to cross the Red River into Oklahoma and head north to Ogallala on the Western Trail. “Better signal Ollie to turn back this way.”

  “He’s already thinkin’ the same as we are,” John said. Up ahead, Ollie Dinkler drove his chuckwagon on an angle to pass more to the east of the wagon on the Oklahoma side of the river. In about a quarter of an hour’s time, the lead cattle entered the water. Soon the river was filled with Triple-G cattle, drinking the water, until being driven up the other bank. Following their customary drives, Ollie drove his chuckwagon across and unhitched his horses, preparing to spend the night there by the river.

  Once the cattle were peacefully settled for the night, John and his younger brother, Perley, rode over the low ridge to see what the situation was with the broken-down wagon. As they approached the wagon, a man crawled out from beneath it and stood up, prepared to greet them. A woman holding a baby came from behind the wagon and stood beside the man, watching John and Perley. “Looks like you folks are havin’ a little trouble,” John offered in greeting when he and Perley pulled up beside the wagon.

  “Reckon so,” Possum said. “This wheel has been leanin’ a little outta line ever since we crossed a stream earlier this mornin’ and I think I musta bent the axle when I drove it up on a rock under the water. The wheel’s been squeakin’ ever since, so I pulled it off to put some grease on that axle. Sure ’nough, it looks a little bent to me.”

  “That’s sorry news,” John said. “How far do you have to go?” He glanced from the man to the woman standing beside him and assumed them to be father and daughter. There was obviously a sizable difference in age.

  “Well, that’s hard to say,” Possum replied, “a-ways, maybe fifty or sixty miles, I expect.” When both of their visitors responded to his answer with questioning looks, he tried to explain. “My name’s Possum Smith. This here lady is Emma Slocum. Her husband met with an accident in Dodge City, up in Kansas territory, that took his life, so I’m tryin’ to take her home.”

  “You’ve come all the way from Dodge City?” Perley asked, surprised.

  “That’s a fact,” Possum answered.

  “Where are you headin’?” John asked.

  “You ever heard of a place called Butcher Bottom?”

  “Can’t say as I have,” John replied and looked at Perley, who shook his head as well.

  “Me neither,” Possum said, “so I’m gonna have to look for it when we get down into Texas. That’s where Emma’s from, but she don’t know how to tell me where it is. All I know is, it ain’t too far from the Lazy-S cattle ranch, so I reckon I oughta be able to find it.”

  “Zachary Slocum,” John said at once.

  “That’s right,” Possum said. “You know him?”

  “I know of him,” John replied, “but I ain’t ever met the man. He’s got one of the biggest cattle operations in North Texas. We’re from the Triple-G, east of here a couple hundred miles.”

  Perley looked at the forlorn-looking woman holding the baby. “If your name’s Emma Slocum, then I reckon your husband was Zachary Slocum’s son. Is that right?” Emma nodded. “Well, we’re mighty sorry for your loss, ma’am. My name’s Perley Gates and this is my brother John.” While they had been talking, Perley had taken a quick glance in the back of the wagon. It didn’t take more than that to see they looked awfully short of supplies. “You plannin’ on campin’ here tonight?”

  “That’s right,” Possum answered. “I think our horses have had enough for today. I figured I was gonna have to try to fix a wagon wheel, but after I took a look at it, I think it’ll hold up till I get Emma home.”

  “We’re restin’ the herd here tonight,” Perley said. “If you folks don’t mind eatin’ some chuckwagon food, why don’t you have supper with us? We’ve got a mighty fine cook.”

  Perley’s invitation surprised his brother, but from the obvious expression of delight in Emma’s face, he concluded what Perley had already surmised. “That’s a good idea,” he said then. “Won’t be anything fancy, but there’ll be plenty of it.”

  “Why, thank you kindly,” Possum said after glancing at Emma. “We’d be happy to take supper with you, wouldn’t we, Emma?” There was no hesitation on her part to agree.

  “Good,” John said. “You’ll hear Ollie when he bangs on his dinner bell. We’ll look for you to come on over and join us.” He glanced at Perley and said, “I expect we’d best get back to the herd.” They climbed on their horses and headed back the way they had come.

  When they were out of hearing distance, Perley pulled up even with John. “Did you take a look in that wagon?” When John said that he hadn’t, Perley said, “It looked like it was filled up with clothes and furniture and such, but I didn’t see anything that looked like food. You reckon they’ve run outta supplies?”

  “Maybe,” John replied. “I expect we’ll find out when they come to supper.”

  * * *

  Possum and Emma were treated like royalty when they walked over to join the crew of the Triple-G for supper. Ollie was more than pleased with the compliments he received for the meal he prepared, although they were not really needed. Judging by the enthusiasm with which his guests attacked his steak and biscuits, it was plain to see they appreciated his efforts. It also told Rubin and John that Perley had been right when he suspected they were desperately short of rations. It was so evident that the three brothers had a quick conference and decided it would go against their Christian upbringing to leave Possum and Emma in the dire straits in which they had found them. Before the evening was ended, they learned that Possum had no connection to Emma beyond the happenstance that he volunteered to ride in a posse with her husband. According to Possum, Emma’s husband had been the unlucky victim of one of the bank robbers they had chased. Being the Christian man that he was, Possum could not turn his back on the grieving widow, so he had volunteered to take her home to Texas.

  While they ate, Rubin brought up the subject of supplies. “You folks still have about fifty or sixty miles to go, you say?”

  “Near as I can figure,” Possum replied.

  “How are you fixed for supplies?” Rubin questioned. “Perley said it didn’t look like you had much in the way of food.”

  Possum looked surprised. “Did he say that? Well, I reckon he’s pretty much right about that. We ain’t. We just had to do the best we could with the little bit we had, mostly livin’ offa bacon till we could get to Doan’s Store. There ain’t many places to buy supplies between here and Dodge City. I was hopin’ to run up on somethin’ to hunt, but so far, I ain’t had much luck.” He paused to grin. “Maybe the deer are all waitin’ down
in Texas for us.”

  “I’ll tell you what,” Rubin said, “we’ll make you a present of a cow, in case the deer ain’t waitin’ for you.” He looked at John and Perley for their reaction and both his brothers nodded their approval. “We’ll even help you skin and butcher it tonight, but we have to keep this herd movin’, so it’ll be up to you to take care of it in the mornin’.”

  The immediate display of gratitude on the faces of both Possum and Emma told him how much it meant to them. “That’s mighty kind of you fellers,” Possum said. “We’ll surely appreciate the beef, but I can do the skinnin’ and butcherin’. No need to have your men doin’ that.”

  “All that beef needs some coffee and beans to go with it,” Perley suggested. “How are you fixed for that?”

  Emma spoke up at once. “We’re already out of coffee. I’ve been reusing the old grounds for the last two days.

  Possum was quick to interrupt her. “We may look poorly, but we ain’t flat broke. I was figurin’ on buyin’ some coffee and other stuff at Doan’s Store when we crossed the Red. You folks have been more than generous, and I don’t wanna take advantage of ya.”

  Rubin glanced at his two brothers. He could guess that their feelings were the same, he felt. Possum and Emma looked to be in a desperate situation and could use a little help in finding the settlement called Butcher Bottom. Then Rubin and John turned their glances to light on Perley, and he knew immediately what they were thinking. He frowned and shook his head slowly, hoping they would guess his reaction to their thoughts. Neither one made a comment, much to his relief, but there was a deep discussion to follow as soon as Emma and Possum expressed their thanks and returned to the wagon with their gift cow. Sonny Rice and Charlie Ramey volunteered to go with them to help with the butchering, even though Possum had insisted he could handle it. Before the evening was over, Ollie Dinkler went over to supervise the smoking of most of the meat to keep it from spoiling.

  “That poor woman looks like she’s about to give up and die,” John remarked after Emma returned to her wagon. “And the old fellow with her didn’t look much better. You reckon he’ll find that little place she says she’s from?”

  “I don’t know,” Rubin replied. “What bothers me is, she says he just happens to know her late husband. That old fellow looks plum wore out. He just might decide he’s done enough for her and take off, leavin’ her to try to find Butcher Bottom by herself—her and that little baby.”

  “I already know what both of you are thinkin’,” Perley said, “and I ain’t gonna do it.”

  * * *

  With the first rays of the sun the next morning, Possum crawled out of his bedroll under the wagon. He had worked late the night before, saving as much beef as he could for the rest of their trip. He woke up only once during the night when he heard the sounds of the herd of cattle moving out of the river valley, so he figured they were out of sight by now. He listened for sounds that would tell him Emma and the baby were awake, satisfied when he heard none. He went at once to revive the fire, then when he was sure it was caught up, he turned toward the scrubby bushes on the riverbank to answer nature’s demands. It was then that he first saw the horse and rider standing silhouetted against the early-morning light, no more than thirty yards from the wagon. “Hot damn!” Possum blurted in shocked surprise, thinking Jack Pitt had already found them.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you,” Perley said. “I just figured I’d wait till you woke up before I went ridin’ into your camp.” Possum seemed unable to come up with a suitable reply, so Perley continued. “Good mornin’. You remember me? I’m Perley Gates.”

  “Good mornin’,” Possum finally replied, relieved to find he wasn’t about to be attacked. “Well, you sure as the dickens gave me a fright there for a minute. Whaddaya doin’ here this mornin’? I heard the cattle when they started out earlier.”

  “I figured I’d give you a hand, help you and the lady find Butcher Bottom,” Perley said.

  “You stayed back to help me and Emma?” Possum asked, finding it hard to believe. “Ain’t you anxious to get your cattle to market?” While he would appreciate some help, it was natural to have suspicious thoughts about the young man willing to leave the herd to go with him and Emma. He had to tell himself there was no way Perley could know they were carrying a huge amount of cash money in that broken-down old wagon.

  “Oh, I wanna see ’em get to the market,” Perley replied, “but they don’t need me to do it. My brothers will see to that. I’m not especially fond of working cattle in the first place. Besides, we figured I wouldn’t be gone more than five or six days, if that place is about as far as you said. We were talkin’ about it last night after you went back to your wagon. There’s a lot of wild lawless men ridin’ in northern Texas this time of year, so we figured it wouldn’t hurt to have an extra pair of eyes and an extra gun with you. I brought a packhorse with me, so I’ve got my own supplies. ’Course, it’s up to you. If you druther I didn’t go along with you, just say the word, and I’ll skedaddle outta here to catch up with the cattle.”

  Possum hesitated before answering. There was nothing threatening about the young man’s appearance that would make him believe he was anything but honest in his offer to help. Before he could speak, however, he was interrupted by Emma, who called out from the wagon. “What is it, Possum? Is anything wrong?”

  “No, ma’am,” Possum answered and broke out a grin. “It’s just Perley Gates, stayed back from the rest of ’em just to give us a hand in gettin’ you safely home.”

  “Really?” Emma responded in surprise, pleased by the gesture on the part of the men of the Triple-G. “Well, we’re mighty grateful, Perley. I know it’ll take a little strain off of Possum, having somebody to help him.”

  “We’re glad to do it, ma’am,” Perley replied, resigned to the fact that he might be a week in catching up with the herd again. “I brought some coffee with me. Thought you might use a cup before we get started this mornin’.”

  CHAPTER 2

  They crossed over the Red River after having their coffee, preferring to wait for breakfast until they stopped to rest the horses. Perley was right in his assumption that they were out of supplies, but was surprised when they restocked at Doan’s Store. He had been convinced that Possum was just talking to save embarrassment when he had said they were not flat broke.

  From Doan’s Crossing, they followed a trail straight south that Emma thought she remembered. There was an odd-shaped knoll with one lone tree at the top and she was sure there could not have been another just like that one. To Possum, this was another indication that she and her husband had followed the cattle trail up through Texas. When Emma said they had crossed a river, then it was two whole days until they reached the Red River, Possum guessed she was referring to the North Wichita River. “I figure that to be about forty miles,” he said, thinking her husband had likely driven his wagon twenty miles a day.

  “I thought you said you were from Kansas,” Perley said. “You know more about Texas than I do.”

  “I am from Kansas,” Possum replied, “but it ain’t the only place I’m from. I’ve rode a lot of trails before I crossed yours.” He looked at Emma and grinned. “Yours, too,” he said. “I know a little bit about some parts of Texas, but I ain’t never heard of Butcher Bottom till I ran into Dan and Emma.”

  “That don’t surprise me none,” Emma offered. “Nobody in Butcher Bottom ever goes outside of it, if Raymond Butcher has his way—and he always does.” She smiled a tired smile when she remembered the day when she thought she was going to escape the fate of most of the other women who had been unfortunate to land there. She couldn’t help thinking now that she must be out of her mind to return to Butcher Bottom when she could choose to go elsewhere. Although leaving her a widow with a baby, Dan had left her with a comfortable sum of money. It bothered her not at all that it was money stolen from a bank. Like Possum, she thought of it as money stolen from a bank robber, that it was money the bank h
ad already lost. Her problem was that she had no idea what she should, or could, do to provide for her and baby Daniel’s life. Her thoughts were interrupted when Perley asked a question.

  “Why do they call it Butcher Bottom?” he asked.

  “It’s not a very pretty name, is it?” she answered, then went on, “It was named for old man Simon Butcher. He was a preacher, so he said, and he convinced a small congregation in Mississippi to follow him to an unclaimed valley near the Brazos River. My parents were part of that congregation, and I wasn’t much more than four years old when we went there. Accordin’ to Reverend Butcher, they were gonna build their own country and provide for themselves, just like the Amish do, and live off the land.”

  “Your folks still live there?” Perley asked.

  “No, they’ve both passed away,” Emma replied. “Mama died three years ago. and Papa didn’t last but about six months after she was gone.”

  “Maybe I ain’t hearin’ you right,” Perley remarked, “but it sounds to me like you ain’t too happy to get back. With your mama and papa gone, why do you want to?”

  “’Cause I’ve got a sister there and I don’t know no place else to go,” she said.

  “Seems to me, about anyplace would be better than one you’re sure you don’t like,” Perley said.

  “That’s what I told her,” Possum said. “She won’t admit it, but I think she’s scared one of them men in that cult will be coming after her now that Dan’s dead.”

  “No, I ain’t,” Emma responded at once. “I ain’t even sure they’ll let me come back after I married a cattleman. Raymond says cattlemen are the devil’s seeds.”