The Legend of Perley Gates Read online

  * * *

  “Perley’s back,” Sonny Rice announced to John Gates when he looked out the barn door and saw Perley approaching. “Wonder if he found your grandpap.”

  John looked up from the bridle he was mending. “I doubt it,” he answered and placed the bridle aside.

  He and Sonny walked out to meet Perley.

  “Did you find him?” John called out before Perley reached the barn.

  “Nope,” Perley replied and rode on in before continuing. “I found his cabin, though,” he said, stepping down from the saddle. “He’d abandoned it. Left a note tellin’ whoever found it they were welcome to it. I met the fellow who’s moved in, and he said he’d been livin’ there for about six months. He showed me the note, and that’s what it said, all right. ’Course, he mighta wrote it himself. I don’t even know if Grandpa could write, but this fellow seems like an honest man—name’s Merle Teague. I hate to disappoint Ma, but I didn’t have any idea where to start lookin’ for Grandpa, and I told Rubin I’d be back to help with the cattle.”

  “Hell, I knew it was a waste of time for you to go ridin’ up there,” John said, “especially when there’s plenty of work here if we’re gonna start those cows out for Ogallala this week. I’m glad you got back when you did.”

  “You boys ain’t got everything ready to go?” Perley asked as he pulled the saddle off Buck. “I didn’t think you could without me,” he joked. “Is Ollie goin’?”

  “Yep,” John said. “He said he reckoned he had at least one more good trail drive in him before he hung ’em up. He’s been workin’ on his chuck wagon, gettin’ it ready to roll.”

  Perley smiled. “That’s what he said last year, and I expect he’ll say the same thing next year.”

  Ollie Dinkler drove the chuck wagon and was not only a top-notch cook but took care of all the injuries that needed tending during the cattle drive—and there were usually plenty.

  “Me and Rubin talked it over and decided ol’ Sonny, here, was old enough to take on the job of wrangler this year.” John nodded toward the grinning young man. “We might lose half of our remuda, but he thinks he’s old enough to handle it.”

  “Shoot, John,” Sonny huffed. “I coulda rode wrangler last summer, and I expect I’ll be good enough at ropin’ next summer to herd cattle.”

  “We’ll see after we get to Ogallala how good you are,” John said and winked at Perley.

  “I reckon the women are gettin’ kinda sad, since their husbands are ridin’ off to the North Platte River, gone for a couple of months or more,” Perley said, his eyes twinkling.

  “You’d expect so, wouldn’t you?” John responded to Perley’s teasing. “Hell, they can hardly wait for me and Rubin to get gone. It’s the only vacation they get.”

  “Fred and his boy gonna take care of things?” Perley asked.

  Fred Farmer and his young son, thirteen-year-old Jimmy, had stayed behind the year before to take care of the ranch, and it had worked out all right. There had been no complaints from the women, so Perley assumed they would do the same this year. John confirmed it with a nod.

  “Good,” Perley said. “Now I expect I’d best go on up to the house and tell Ma I couldn’t find Grandpa.”

  “I’ll go with you,” John said. “It’s about suppertime already.”

  * * *

  As Perley expected, his mother was disappointed to hear that her father-in-law had not been found, but she still held hope that he might be alive.

  “If the Lord wants us to find him again, then He’ll make it happen in His own way,” she had declared.

  It was early Sunday morning when the drive got under way, with Rachel Gates, her daughter and two daughters-in-law, and their young children all saying their good-byes. Fred and his son, Jimmy, stood by to see the men off as they rode out to the herd. Ollie Dinkler followed in the chuck wagon. The cookshack was closed up, with Fred and Jimmy the only occupants in the bunkhouse. They would be enjoying most of their meals at the ranch house till the men returned.

  This first day was planned to get the cattle started to move as a herd, probably traveling no farther than eight or ten miles, depending on how soon they became adjusted to the constant pressure by the cowhands to keep them on the move. The second day would be when the drive was actually considered under way, starting at three or four o’clock in the morning and stopping at noon to let the cattle graze. They typically drove the herd about fifteen miles a day. Any more than that would take too much weight off the animals, bringing a lower price in Ogallala.

  In earlier days, the Triple-G herds would take the Chisholm Trail up through Indian Territory to Wichita, but the Kansas legislature kept pushing the Texas herds farther west to accommodate the farmers. Now Perley and his brothers had to drive their cattle about two hundred and fifty miles west to Doan’s Crossing at the Red River in order to take the so-called Western Trail to Dodge City. Stopping at Dodge City for supplies and to let the cattle feed, they would then drive the herd another three weeks to the buyers in Ogallala.

  With Ollie and his chuck wagon out front and Rubin riding point, the Triple-G crew started two thousand cattle west, young Sonny Rice following behind with the remuda. It would take them seventeen or eighteen days to strike the Western Trail at Doan’s Crossing. From there, they drove the cattle north, up through Indian Territory, reaching Dodge City, Kansas, after thirty-five days of coaxing the bawling, reluctant longhorns over the Kansas plains. Anxious to deliver their cattle to the holding pens at Ogallala, the Gates brothers allowed a rest of only two days before pushing on to the North Platte.

  It was the second week in June when they arrived in Ogallala. The drab, unpainted collection of businesses was all on one street, running parallel to the railroad tracks. Only a block long, it was enough to include two saloons and a hotel. It was in these establishments that all of the entertainment as well as the cattle buying took place.

  The men from the Triple-G settled their cattle north of the city to await the buyers and were met almost immediately by several who rode out to look the stock over. Perley, always prone to let his older brothers handle the business end of the ranch, elected to stay with the crew, watching the herd while John and Rubin went into town to negotiate the price. It didn’t take long to sell the cattle, with the beef market at its highest, and the Gates brothers were soon ready to pay the cowhands.

  As he paid each man, Rubin encouraged them, especially the younger ones like Sonny Rice, to avoid the traps waiting for them in the bustling town of Ogallala. It was not uncommon for some of the younger boys to ride back to Texas with no more money than they had started out with. It was advice he offered every year, knowing that his warning would be ignored, just like the year before. The hardships and sacrifices of the long cattle drive were begging to be compensated for, and there were loose women, whiskey, and gambling eager to provide that service. As a rule, those foolish enough to spend all they had earned were satisfied that it was money well spent.

  Perley was not above the temptation of a stiff drink and some friendly conversation with the bawdy women who worked the saloons, looking to relieve the suddenly liberated cowhands of their money. It was not like talking to regular women, like the kind a fellow would meet in church, or any of the women in the families that settled around the Triple-G. Perley was always shy whenever he came in contact with women like that. But with the rough-edged women who worked the saloons, it was different. It was just like talking to another man.

  With the ownership of the herd successfully transferred, he went with Rubin and John to celebrate the completion of their venture. They picked the Cowboy’s Rest to burn the trail dust out of their throats and were lucky to find an empty table in the busy saloon. Perley and Rubin secured the table while John went to the bar to buy a bottle. When he returned with bottle and glasses, he poured the celebratory drink, and the three brothers drank to the success of another cattle drive.

  “I reckon we’ll start back in the mornin’,” John sai
d and glanced at Rubin to see if there was any reason not to.

  “I reckon so,” Rubin agreed. “Some of the boys are talkin’ about waitin’ a couple of days here before they start back.” He shook his head as if perplexed. “Most of ’em won’t have a dime by the time they get back home. I figure we’ve got good reasons to get on back home, but that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve a good supper and a night in the hotel, if they’ve got an empty room. If they don’t, at least we can have the supper. Whadda you say, Perley? You care one way or the other?” he asked, knowing that Perley was likely to go along with whatever his brothers decided.

  To prove him right, Perley merely shrugged to show his indifference. He couldn’t help thinking that Rubin was already beginning to act like his father, now that the old man was gone.

  “Then that’s what we’ll do,” Rubin said and poured himself another drink.

  It wasn’t long before the three men caught the eye of a full-figured woman who had been watching a card game on the other side of the room. Ready to give up on the Kansas cowhand who had bought her a drink before his luck changed, she was looking around for better prospects. Her gaze lingered on the table and the three Texas cowhands—one especially, who looked to be younger than the other two. She decided she was losing money, standing by the man in the card game. Her decision was validated when he threw in another losing hand, cursing his luck. It was obvious to her that he was going to run out of money long before he thought about spending any on her.

  “I’ll see you a little later, sweetie. It’s plain to see I ain’t bringing you any luck,” she said and started to step away.

  “Where the hell are you goin’?” he demanded. “You ain’t leavin’ after I done spent my money on you.”

  “You bought me a drink, Riker,” she replied sarcastically. “That ain’t hardly enough to buy my whole evening.”

  “Why not? You sure as hell ain’t the prettiest whore in the place.”

  His insult was all she needed to justify her decision. “Good luck with the cards. I’ll see you some other time.” With that she walked away, leaving him to stare threateningly after her.

  “You ain’t got no luck at all tonight, Riker,” one of the card players said, causing the others to laugh at the scowling cowhand.

  “Looks like them boys from Texas is gonna be partying with ol’ Liz tonight,” another one commented when he saw her stop at their table.

  “We’ll see about that,” Riker replied. “The night ain’t over yet.”

  “Howdy boys,” Liz greeted Perley and his brothers as she approached the table. “You must be some of those Texas fellows that came in with that big herd yesterday.”

  “That’s right,” John responded and gave her a smile.

  “Looks like you could use some company, since you’ve got an empty chair,” she said. “Maybe you might buy me a drink.”

  “Why, sure,” Rubin said. “Set yourself down over there by Perley. I know he could use some female company.” He winked at John. Knowing how shy Perley was around women, he thought he’d have a little fun.

  “Why, thank you, sir. I knew you were gentlemen when I spotted you, so I brought a glass with me. My name’s Liz.” She sat down, placed her glass on the table, and turned at once toward Perley. “What did he say your name was? It sounded like Pearly.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, “Perley.”

  “Well, nice to meet you, Pearly. That’s an unusual name.” She took a sip of the whiskey John poured into her glass.

  “Gates,” John stated, unable to resist. “That’s his last name. Perley Gates.”

  Liz howled, almost spilling her drink. “You’re joshing me now.” She looked from John to Rubin, both of them grinning like mischievous imps. “Pearly Gates,” she repeated, then turned back to Perley. “Well, that’s a dandy name. I’ll drink to that. You might be inclined to go upstairs with me. Might turn out to be a heavenly experience for both of us.”

  “Yeah, Perley,” John said, “that might be a heavenly experience at that. It might be just the thing you need.”

  Even though ready to throttle his brothers for ganging up on him, Perley did not want to hurt the prostitute’s feelings. As the cowhand named Riker had observed, Liz was not the prettiest woman in the saloon. In fact, she was quite homely, but he was sure she had feelings like everybody else, so he didn’t want her to feel rejected.

  “I have to say, it would be a real pleasure to go upstairs with you,” he said, “but it wouldn’t be a kind thing to do to infect you with a deadly disease just so I could have the pleasure of your company for one night.” When she responded with a puzzled stare, he continued. “You see, ma’am, I’ve got a real bad case of hoof-and-mouth disease from workin’ in too close with the cattle.”

  Confused, Liz looked from him to Rubin and John, to witness their ever-expanding grins. Then she looked back at Perley and asked, “Just how close were you working with ’em?” The loud guffaws that followed told her that they might be japing her, but she wasn’t sure.

  “You ain’t in no danger catchin’ it just sittin’ here havin’ a drink,” John said, “else I wouldn’t be sittin’ here, myself. Ain’t that right, Rubin?”

  “That’s right,” Rubin said. “You just stay there and have another drink. You ain’t got nothin’ to fear from Perley just talkin’ to him. He ain’t even broke out with spots on his lips or under his arms yet. When that happens, I reckon we’ll have to put him down before he spreads it to the rest of the cows back home.”

  Certain that she was being japed then, she laughed and asked, “Are all you boys from Texas full of shit?”

  “Most of us,” Rubin replied with a chuckle. “Me and John are married—”

  “To each other?” Liz interrupted, showing them she could joke as well. It brought a laugh from Perley and John.

  “Me and John have wives at home,” Rubin tried again. “That’s what I meant to say. Otherwise, we mighta been tempted to go upstairs with you. Perley, there—well, he’s on his own. He ain’t got a wife.”

  “Wives at home, huh?” Liz responded, then smiled. “Like I said, I knew you fellows were gentlemen, and I thank you for the drink.” She looked directly at Perley then. “I’m sure I could show you a good time, but I don’t wanna catch hoof-and-mouth disease.”

  Certain they were putting her on about that, she figured he would now set her straight if he was a potential customer for her services. Before Perley had an opportunity to respond, they heard a loud outburst at the poker table she had recently left.

  “Damn the luck!” the Kansas cowhand named Riker exploded as he watched another large portion of his recent payday disappear. “And damn this game!” He pushed his chair back and stood up. “That’s it for me. I’ve got better things to do with the money I’ve got left.” With a firm idea what that was, he stormed over to the table where Liz was sitting and grabbed her arm. “Come on,” he ordered, “I’m ready to get outta here.”

  In spite of having decided to get up only seconds before, Liz changed her mind immediately. “Get your paws offa me!” she demanded and jerked her arm free. “You lost all your money playing cards, so now you come to me with empty pockets? Ain’t nothing free around here. Besides, I’m busy visiting with some gentlemen friends now. Go bother one of the other girls.”

  “The hell I will!” Riker roared back and tried to grab her arm again.

  Again, she snatched it away. “Go away, Riker. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

  Still, he refused to leave her.

  The three Gates brothers sat immobile for a long moment, fairly astonished by the unexpected encounter between Liz and Riker, but before Riker could grasp her arm again, Rubin spoke.

  “’Pears to me the lady doesn’t very much wanna go with you, Riker. Least, it looks that way. Whadda you think, John? Does it look that way to you?”

  “Well, now that you brought it up, it does kinda look that way,” John answered. “’Course, they might not be
too good with the English language in Kansas. Maybe if he thinks about it a minute, he’ll understand she doesn’t wanna go with him, and he’ll go away. Whadda you think, Perley?”

  “I think when he realizes she doesn’t wanna go with him, he’ll be wantin’ to apologize for treating her so rough,” Perley said. “He seems like a nice enough fellow when he ain’t had too much to drink.”

  Riker looked in disbelief from one brother to the next as they spoke. “This ain’t none of your business,” he growled. “This is between me and her, and if you’re thinkin’ about makin’ it your business just because there’s three of you, then maybe you’d best think again. There’s three of my partners settin’ at the table over there, so that makes it four to three.”

  John nodded slowly as he appeared to be thinking over what Riker had just pointed out. “By Ned, he’s right. Four Kansas cowboys against three Texans. That’s an even match, all right.”

  “I’ll go with him,” Liz said. “I don’t wanna be the cause of getting you boys in a fight. You didn’t call any of this down on yourselves. I invited myself to your party.”

  “Well, now,” Perley said, reluctant to see her having to submit to the crude cowhand, “we’ve been enjoyin’ your company, so why don’t you stay here with us? I’ll pay you whatever you charge for a tussle, and all you’ll have to do for it is sit here and talk. That’d be all right, wouldn’t it?”

  When she looked undecided, Perley nodded toward Riker, who was obviously fuming.

  “Look at ol’ Riker, there. He’s thinkin’ he’s a gentleman, too, and wants to do the right thing by you. Ain’t that right, Riker?”

  “Why, you crazy son of a bitch,” Riker blurted, and lunged toward Perley.

  Perley’s chair toppled over under the sudden weight of both men, landing them on the floor with Riker on top. With one hand grasping for a choke hold around Perley’s neck, Riker drew his right hand back, cocked to land a wild haymaker. Before he could throw it, his wrist was locked in the powerful grip of John Gates. He was forced to let go of Perley’s throat when his arm was bent backward, threatening to break, effectively peeling him off Perley. The painful yelp that bellowed from Riker’s mouth served as a call to his three friends at the poker table. Truth be told, none of the three were enthusiastic about participating in a brawl started by Riker, since he was a troublemaker by nature. But seemingly bound by what some might call cowboy honor, they responded to his cry for help and came out of their chairs on the run.