Die with the Outlaws Read online

  “And yet he claims to have spoken to someone who did see it,” O’Neil replied. “Who would that be? Who saw it?”

  “There don’t nobody know for sure, because there didn’t nobody see who it was that was shootin’ at ’em. But I got my suspicions, ’n what I’m thinkin’ is that it was Isaac Newton.”

  “Isn’t he the colored man?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one.”

  “Why do you suspect him?”

  “On account of he has disappeared ’n there ain’t nobody seen him in a few days.”

  “He could be trouble,” O’Neil said.

  “Yes, I was thinking the same thing,” Kennedy said.

  “You want me to get rid of ’im?” DuPont asked.

  “You said that nobody has seen him since the lynching. Do you know where he is?” Kennedy asked.

  “No, but how hard is it goin’ to be to find a colored man where mostly there’s only white men?” O’Neil asked.

  “You have a point,” Kennedy conceded. “All right. Go ahead and get rid of him.”

  “No, wait. He might be useful to us,” O’Neil said.

  “In what way could he be useful?” Kennedy asked.

  “Suppose there was another rash of cattle rustling,” Kennedy suggested. “And suppose the rustler was Isaac Newton. That would do several things for us. It would put more pressure on the ranchers who are struggling, increased rustling would remind everyone of the need for the Regulators, and it would provide justification for taking care of Newton when you found him.”

  “How are we goin’ to make folks think it’s Newton that’s stealin’ the cattle?”

  “You let our friend Mike Marvin handle that,” Kennedy said with a smile.

  “You’re goin’ to put Isaac Newton’s name in the paper?” O’Neil asked.

  “Yes, but there must be some cattle taken before we can accuse anyone of rustling.”

  “You let me worry about that,” DuPont said with a knowing smile. “I’ll get some cows took for you, all right.”

  * * *

  “Colleen, I don’t know what’s going on here, but it doesn’t sound good,” Cooter said later that day.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think Kennedy and . . . I hate to say it . . . your father might be involved with all the rustlin’ that’s goin’ on.”

  “Nonsense, why would they be involved? They’ve got more cattle than everyone else combined.”

  “I’m not sure. They’ve always kept me and the hands out of it, and to be honest, the pay is so good I was willing to stay out of what’s going on. I don’t know for sure now, what it is. But it doesn’t sound good.”

  “I’ll talk to Papa.”

  “No!” Cooter said sharply. “No, I think, for now, it would be best for us to just stay out of it and see what happens. Maybe I’m wrong.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  From the Bitter Creek Press Bulletin:

  Rustling Continues

  NEGRO MAN SPOTTED STEALING CATTLE

  Rustler Is Believed to be Isaac Newton

  Ollie Lynch, a rider for the Straight Arrow brand, reported seeing the colored outlaw cutting out as many as one hundred head of cattle from the Straight Arrow herd. The theft happened Sunday night, the time carefully chosen as it would be a time when the fewest men would be patrolling the herd. The paucity of herd sentinels is the result of a policy of Messrs. O’Neil and Kennedy to give as many men time off as possible on this day of rest.

  The rustler, aided no doubt by his color, was able to move as a shadow within a shadow, and wasn’t detected in his nefarious activity until it was too late for Lynch to summon aid.

  It has been reported that other area ranchers have also lost stock of late, no doubt to the same rustler that was spotted and identified by Mr. Lynch as Isaac Newton. That Newton has resorted to criminal activity is particularly egregious in that he had until recently, been a supporter of the law, being a member of the Regulators. Isaac Newton has betrayed the trust of the people who had counted upon him to defend their interests, and has become an outlaw of the worst sort.

  Some in the town of Rongis may remember Newton as a habitué of the Wild Hog Saloon, where he often kept company with a young Negress who goes by the name of Fancy, who, as most in her profession, is not identified by a last name. Isaac Newton is a rarity among his race in that he is quite well spoken, which is indicative of his education.

  Captain Tyrone DuPont, chief of the Regulators and acting on behalf of the Union Pacific Railroad, has offered a reward of five hundred dollars, dead or alive, for the capture or proven death of Isaac Newton, who is said to be five feet, nine inches tall, approximately 155 pounds, and coffee complexioned with no facial hair.

  Spur and Latigo Ranch

  As the newspaper had pointed out, there had been an increase in the number of cattle-rustling events over the last few days. Norman Lambert and Eddie Webb had been the victims of cattle rustling.

  “Norman lost twenty-five head, but Eddy lost sixty-five head, which is near half his whole herd,” Travis Poindexter told Matt and Hugh.

  “They’re still busy, I see,” Hugh said. “I had hoped that they would slow down a bit since Jim and Mary Ella were murdered.”

  “Yeah, well, if nothing else, this ought to prove that it was that colored man the paper is talkin’ about that’s been doin’ all the rustlin’. Jim ’n Mary Ella didn’t have nothin’ at all to do with it,” Travis Poindexter said. “Onliest thing is, it’s too late for it to do ’em any good now.”

  “I don’t believe Isaac Newton has anything to do with the rustling that’s going on right now,” Matt said.

  “Why don’t you believe it? The article sounds pretty convincing,” Hugh said.

  “Hugh, this is the same newspaper that said Jim and Mary Ella were receiving stolen cattle, remember?”

  “Yeah, ’n Jim ’n Mary Ella warn’t doin’ that,” Poindexter said. “There ain’t no doubt in my mind but that they warn’t doin’ nothin’ like that.”

  “No need to tell us that, Travis. Nobody who knew them believes such a thing,” Hugh said. “That whole thing was drummed up in some sick attempt to justify the lynching so that Carter and the others wouldn’t be found guilty of murder.”

  “I’m convinced that the ones who murdered Jim and Mary Ella also knew they were innocent,” Matt said. “So my question is, if they were going to murder them, why didn’t they just shoot them? Why did they go to all the trouble to lynch them?”

  “I’ll tell you why,” Poindexter said. “They done it ’cause they’re just a bunch of downright evil sons of bitches. That’s why they done it.”

  “They are evil, I’ll grant you that,” Matt said. “But there has to be another reason.”

  The three men were sitting on Hugh’s front porch. Matt had been invited out for supper. The enticing aroma of Lisa’s cooking wafted out from the house, and Poindexter had come over to report on the cattle losses sustained by Lambert and Webb.

  “I wish we could catch some o’ these thieves red-handed,” Poindexter added. “I would string ’em up before you could say Jack Robinson.”

  “And then you would be as guilty of lynching as Carter, Greene, Toone, and the Mason brothers,” Matt said. “Only, unlike them, you wouldn’t be able to count on Briggs to absolve you of the crime.”

  “That’s not the only reason I wouldn’t be like them. I also wouldn’t be like them, because the ones I’d be hanging would be guilty.”

  “Do you think Judge Briggs would see it like that?” Matt asked.

  “Not hardly. That sidewinder belongs to Kennedy ’n O’Neil, ’n they ’n the Regulators have been real close from the beginnin’,” Poindexter said.

  Hugh chuckled. “Then, no doubt, you can see the folly of any plan to string up the rustlers if you find them.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. But, what are we goin’ to do with ’em? I mean, if we was to catch ’em ’n bring ’em in, what would keep Briggs from ju
st lettin’ ’em go?”

  “Briggs isn’t the only judge in the territory,” Hugh said. “If we had to, we could take them as far as Cheyenne.”

  “Maybe.” Poindexter stood up, stretched, and stepped down from the porch. “Smellin’ Lisa’s cookin’ reminds me that I better be gettin’ on back home. I reckon Alice will have my own supper ready for me ’bout now.”

  “Thanks for stopping by, Travis,” Hugh said. “I appreciated the visit.”

  “I wish we had had better things to talk about than our friends gettin’ rustled.”

  Poindexter had just ridden away when Lisa came to the front door. “Gentlemen, supper is ready.”

  Matt and Hugh headed inside.

  “Fried pork chops, potatoes and eggs, biscuits and gravy,” Matt said, examining the meal.

  “I know it’s nothing fancy, but—” Lisa started to say.

  “Are you kidding?” interrupted by Matt, who held up his hand. “Do you have any idea what percentage of my meals are bacon and canned beans? And when I’m not eating that, I’m eating in a saloon or a restaurant somewhere. I don’t get that many home-cooked meals, and it so happens that this is one of my favorites, so I don’t want to hear you putting yourself down. Just let me enjoy it.’

  Hugh chuckled. “I guess he’s put you in your place.”

  “I feel bad about not inviting Travis to stay, but I wasn’t expecting him and didn’t cook enough.”

  “That’s all right. Alice is expecting him home for supper,” Hugh said. “He just stopped by to tell us that Norman and Eddie had cattle rustled last night.”

  “Oh, that’s awful.”

  “Hugh, how close in can you bring your horses and still have enough graze?” Matt asked.

  “I can bring them in pretty close, but if they are all bunched up, the graze wouldn’t last for much over a week. But I do have everything well fenced now.”

  Matt nodded. “Then I expect you’ll be all right as long as the fence is in place.”

  “Now that LeRoy and Jake have come to work for us, they, Ed, and I can keep an eye on the fence to make certain that nothing has happened to it,” Hugh said.

  “That’s probably a good idea until we can get the horses down to Bitter Creek,” Matt said.

  “Bitter Creek,” Hugh said in scoffing tone of voice.

  “Say, when we get the horses there, do you think there’s any chance that they might get away from us when we’re taking them through town just long enough to perhaps run over the newspaper office before we can regain control of them?”

  “Why, Hugh, would you abridge freedom of the press?” Lisa asked with a whimsical smile. “Remember Thomas Jefferson said that he would rather have newspapers without a government than to have a government without newspapers.”

  “Yes,” Hugh replied. “But did you know that Thomas Jefferson also said ‘Nothing can now be believed which is seen in a newspaper. Truth itself becomes suspicious by being put into that polluted vehicle.’ And clearly he was talking about the Bitter Creek newspaper.”

  Matt chuckled. “Hugh, if I didn’t know better, I would say that you have very little love for newspapers.”

  “I never have cared too much for them. Except when a newspaper would give me a favorable review for one of my concerts,” he added with a smile.

  “What about Mr. Walhausen? You like his newspaper,” Lisa pointed out.

  “Yes, I do. But his paper isn’t the Bitter Creek Press Bulletin.”

  * * *

  From the Bitter Creek Press Bulletin:

  More Stock Rustling

  Cattle Thievery Establishes

  Justification for the Regulators

  One would think that executing the outlaws Jim Andrews and Mary Ella Wilson would have brought about some relief from rustling. But, sad to say, the demise of those two brigands has done little to stop the depredations visited upon the beleaguered ranchers of Sweetwater Valley.

  Small ranchers Norman Lambert and Eddy Webb were visited by cattle thieves, indicating that the rustlers undoubtedly have outlets for their ill-gotten gains beyond that which was provided for them by Andrews and Wilson.

  But of course theft of cattle from the small ranches isn’t the only rustling taking place. Mr. Kennedy and Mr. O’Neil, being the owners of the Straight Arrow, are also victims. In an earlier story, the PRESS BULLETIN reported that the Negro Bandit Isaac Newton stole as many as 100 cows from the Straight Arrow, which is the largest ranch between the Laramie Mountains and the Wind River Range, Rattlesnake Mountains and the Seminoe Range.

  It is now believed that Newton must have acquired a confederate or confederates for the most recent thievery. This supposition was arrived at because over five hundred head were taken from the most extreme western part of their ranch.

  Captain DuPont, chief of the Regulators, has stated that he and his men will redouble their efforts to find Isaac Newton and rid the valley of the scourge of rustling.

  Residents of Fremont County are no doubt appreciative of the fact that Messrs. Kennedy and O’Neil provide the funding which allows Captain DuPont, and the brave men of the Regulators to operate.

  “How many people read this newspaper?” Matt asked, dropping it back on the counter in the office of the Gazette.

  “I’m sorry to say that a lot more people read this paper than read mine,” Art Walhausen replied. “But when I saw this story, I thought you might find it interesting.”

  “Five hundred head taken from Straight Arrow,” Matt said.

  “Well, six hundred, if you add the two reports together,” Art replied. “What’s funny to me is, generally Sheriff Clark keeps me apprised of what’s going on, but he didn’t say anything about the five hundred cows that were taken.”

  “I’ll ask the sheriff about it, but I’m almost sure he wasn’t told about any rustling from Straight Arrow,” Matt said. “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

  “When you say, ‘it makes you wonder,’ are you expressing doubt as to whether or not the claim of rustling from Straight Arrow is true?” Art asked.

  “Oh, I have a lot of doubt,” Matt replied. “Consider this. If there really was any rustling, what happened to the cattle? How did the rustlers get rid of them? The cows that were taken from Lambert and Webb can be handled without too much problem. But five hundred, no, six hundred head, which is what Kennedy and O’Neil say they lost, would make it rather difficult to find a market, I would think.”

  “You have a point. There are only three rail-heads in this part of the country that handle stock shipments—Rawlings, Latham, and Bitter Creek—and I don’t think that many head could be moved that far without someone being made aware of the operation,” Art said. “If you would like, I can telegraph all three and ask them to let me know if the cattle show up there in the next week or so.”

  “Yes, I think that would be a good idea,” Matt replied.

  * * *

  “Are you telling me that the Bitter Creek newspaper is reporting that five hundred head were taken from the Straight Arrow?” Sheriff Clark asked, surprised at the information Matt gave him.

  “That’s what it says.”

  “That’s strange. They told me about the hundred head Newton took. I wonder why neither Kennedy nor O’Neil said anything to me about this.”

  “They didn’t tell you anything about it, because I don’t believe it actually happened.”

  “You mean the newspaper lied about it?”

  “I’m sure the newspaper printed just what was reported. I expect the lying came from Kennedy and O’Neil.”

  “Why would they lie a about such a thing?”

  “That’s a good question,” Matt replied. “Why indeed?”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  “Why should we report it to you?” O’Neil asked. “When have you ever been able to deal with anything? Let the Regulators handle it. Isn’t this why we funded the Regulators, so that you would have help?”

  “It just seems like the theft of five hundre
d head of cattle would be significant enough to be reported to the law.” Sheriff Clark was in the office of the Straight Arrow Ranch, having ridden out from town to discuss the newspaper article with Kennedy and O’Neil.

  “You already know who took the first one hundred cows,” Kennedy said. “It was Isaac Newton. Have you been able to find him?”

  “No,” Clark admitted.

  “Then what good would it do for us to report to you that we had five hundred more taken?”

  “Five hundred head is seventy-five hundred dollars,” Sheriff Clark said. “It seems to me like losin’ that much money would be somethin’ you’d want to be reportin’ on.”

  “We did report it,” O’Neil said.

  “To the newspaper?” the sheriff asked.

  “And to DuPont and the Regulators.”

  Sheriff Clark made a scoffing sound. “The Regulators. I wouldn’t be surprised if they wasn’t the ones that’s rustlin’ your cows. That is, if any of your cows actually is bein’ rustled.”

  “And just what do you mean by that?” O’Neil asked sharply.

  “It’s just that every time one of the smaller ranchers or farmers is forced off their property, somehow you two seem to wind up with it. And mostly the ones that loses their land loses it because they’s so much rustlin’ goin’ on.”

  “If you’re tryin’ to say somethin’, Clark, get it said,” Kennedy demanded.

  “Suppose, just suppose, mind you, that there was a lot of rustlin’ goin’ on, ’n like I said, and you was, somehow, benefitin’ from all that. And maybe some folks would start wonderin’ about it, and wonderin’ why you wasn’t gettin’ none of your cows stoled, too. Wouldn’t it look better for you, if you two arranged that some of your cows got took, or at least if you was able to make ever’one think that some of your cows was bein’ rustled?”

  “Are you accusing us of being cattle thieves?” Kennedy asked.