Fugitive's Trail Read online

Page 2


  That was the other thing I needed me. I needed me a gun. I thought that I’d sure like to have me a good Colt .45 in a rig where I could have it hanging down on my right hip. That’s what I’d like to have. And I’d like to have me a real Texas hat with a star on its crown, a nice red shirt and a good new pair a jeans tucked down into a pair a black, high top leather boots. That was what I had begun to dream about. Then I’d come back out of the dream and get to wondering just how I was going to make any of this come about.

  Well, by God, I fin’ly come to a stream a not badlooking water, and I couldn’t hardly believe my own good fortune. I got offa old Swayback and let her drink her fill while I done the same thing. I tried to drink enough water to make my belly forget that it was hungry, but I learned pretty soon that I couldn’t do that. I did drink so much that I was sloshing inside. That weren’t none too comfortable, but I didn’t know how long that drink was going to have to last me, and I didn’t have no canteen nor nothing at all to tote water in. Damn, I felt stupid. How could a man take off horseback for New Mexico outa hot and dry West Texas and not even tote along some water?

  I seen some game too along about then, and a course I didn’t have no way to bring any of it down. I told myself it didn’t matter none, ’cause I didn’t have the time to stop and build a fire and cook nothing anyhow. I just crawled back on ole Swayback and started in a plodding west again. But the more I rid, the harder I got, and I quit a wishing for that kindly reception I had imagined, and I started in a wishing more harder for a gun so that I could steal me the things I needed. I started in thinking more a myself as what I really and truly was and that was a fugitive. Hell, I was on the run.

  I was a wanted killer, and that made me an outlaw, and I forced myself to think hard, and to accept myself for just that. If I was to be an outlaw, I told myself, I’d be a hard one, and I’d be a good one. I’d be the goddamnedest outlaw that ever come down the pike. I had my jaw set hard, and I was riding along trying my best to look tough and mean, and I reckon that the truth was that I looked pretty damn silly, riding old Swayback in my bare feet and my old overhauls, but I was developing the right attitude, I can tell you that. I knowed that much. And just then I seed a house a setting all by its lonesome off to the north a the trail.

  Chapter Two

  I got all kinds of excited just a looking at that lonesome house off over there. I was thinking about food and water and clothes and guns and money and a fresh, good horse. A course all I had to help me try to get any of them things was just that ten dollars and my own natural meanness. I didn’t have no weapons to hold nobody up with nor nothing like that. I wanted to get my young ass on over there, but I had to set and think about it a spell. I thought that I had to have me some kind of a plan if I was to get what I wanted. Then I fin’ly figgered out that I really didn’t know what them people might have that I would want, and I couldn’t actually make no real plans, not knowing what might be available to me over there. So I fin’ly decided to just plod on over there and act like just only what I for real was, and that was a poor kid out alone and in desperate need. Maybe they’d feel sorry for me and feed me some at least. Maybe not. I guessed I’d just have to take myself on over there and find out.

  Well, I had just rode up alongside a clump a scrubby old trees and brush when I seed a man come out a that house. I nudged old Swayback back into the cover of that scrubby stuff and watched from there. The man went on around behind the house and in a few more minutes he come back out all mounted up on a fine looking horse, and he went a riding back off in the same direction from what I had just come from. Only he weren’t riding right at me. He was cutting a angle from his house kind a southeast toward the trail. He’d hit it back behind where I was a lurking at. I decided to wait him out. Whenever he had fin’ly plumb disappeared, I moved on out of my cover and headed on over for his little house. I rid slow and easy. ’Course, that was the only way old Swayback ever went.

  I thought that man might of left a woman in there. or something, but nobody come out a the house whenever I rid up close, and so I just set there on old Swayback and waited for a bit. Fin’ly I hollered out. “Anyone home?” I yelled. Nobody give an answer, so I slid down off my old horse and walked on over to the door and banged on it a bit. I still didn’t get no answer, so I looked back down the long road, and that rider was long gone. There weren’t no one else in sight neither. That made me kind a bold, and so I just went on inside. I found me some bacon and some beans and some hard biscuits, so I whomped myself up a right good meal and et my fill. I was some nervous, so ever’ now and then I got myself up and run to the front door and opened it to look outside, but I never seen no one coming.

  When I was about as full as I could get without hurting myself, I found me a sack and commenced to stuffing it with ever’thing I could find to eat that would keep along the trail. I put in some tins of beans and peaches and what was left of them hard biscuits. I even put in a slab a bacon. It was salt cured and had ought to last me a while. I dropped a couple of pans and a knife and fork and spoon down in there too. I rummaged around all through the house, and I found me a suit of clothes that weren’t way too big for me, so I put them on. I found a canteen too, and I filled it with water to take along with me. Well, pretty soon I was all dressed and well outfitted for travel. The boots I had found was uncomfortable. They was loose on my feet, and they seemed hard, but I figgered I’d best wear them. At least I weren’t barefoot no more. I found me a hat too, but it come down clean over my ears. I put it on anyhow. I rolled up a couple a blankets to take along with me.

  Then at last I come to the real treasure. I opened up a chest that was setting at the foot a the bed. I thought at first that it weren’t nothing but a bunch of extra bedclothes, but I decided to dig a little in it. I throwed quilts and blankets out till, by God, there was a six-gun burried down there. And it was a Colt all right, but it sure weren’t the model that I had been dreaming about. It was a .41, the 1877 model what they called “Thunderer.” It had a four-and-a-half-inch barrel on it, and it was a double-action revolver. There was also a box a .41 shells there, so I figgered it was all right. I dropped that box a shells in my new coat pocket, and I tucked that Colt into the waistband a my new trousers.

  I looked around a little more, but I never found no money nor nothing else I felt like I really needed, and I had begun to get more nervous hanging around in that house so long. I gathered up all my ill-got gains and went outside. I was a little disappointed to be so well set up now and still a riding on old Swayback, and then I recalled that the man who had rid off from that place had brung his horse out from behind the house. Just for the hell of it, I walked around there, and damned if I didn’t come on a little ole corral with three good looking riding horses in it. There was also a couple a saddles and blankets and all the necessary tack just a hanging there on the fence rails just a waiting for me.

  Well, it didn’t take me long to pick out a sweet little roan mare and get her all saddled up and ready to go. I was just about to ride off, and I had me a thought. It was likely to be a while before that feller come back home, but whenever he did he for sure would know right away that he had been robbed, and almost for sure he would go to the law and tell about it. I already knowed that I was being hunted, and I sure didn’t want to leave no clear trail. I fetched my old overhauls out of the house, and when I rid out, I tuck them with me and led old Swayback away too.

  On down the trail I burried them overhauls under some rocks. Riding along on that fine horse, setting in a good saddle, with boots on my feet, a wearing a full suit of clothes and toting a Colt six-gun, I told myself that I was a sure enough outlaw. ’Course, the man I had killed, I had hit from behind with a ax handle, and my first stealing wasn’t no bold holdup neither. It was just sneak-thiefing, but, hell, I had me a posse on my trail, and I was headed for New Mexico. I was a sure enough fugitive from justice a living off the land and looking over my shoulder, and I felt pretty damn good about it too.
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  It was getting to be late in the evening, and I could tell that it would be dark before long, so I needed to locate myself a likely spot for a camp for the night. Well, I seed a thin line a trees off in the distance, and I figgered that meant water, so I headed d’rectly for them. By the time I got there, it was dark, and so it weren’t the easiest thing to do to locate the spot where I wanted to lay myself down on the ground all night long, but I fin’ly did. I had et so much back at that house that I weren’t near hungry yet, so all I done was to just take keer of the horses, and then spread out my blankets and lay me down to sleep.

  Well, it was a quiet night, and in the morning I gathered up some sticks, built me a fire and had myself a hot breakfast a bacon and beans. I rolled up my blankets, got my new horse ready to go, and then decided to try out my new Colt. I checked her over, then tuck me a few practice shots at some rocks on the other side a the river. I weren’t none too good with it, but I figgered I could hit a man if he was close enough to me and I had a need to do it. Fin’ly I mounted up and rid on west. I left old Swayback there. There was plenty a water and grass. I figgered she’d be all right, and she must not a give a damn about it herself, ’cause she never even made out like she even thought about follering me.

  I felt pretty good riding out of there. I was thinking about how quick it comes easy to call stole stuff my own and to feel like it really is, but after a few hours of riding along with nothing for company but the horse I was a setting on, I begun to get pretty bored with my new role as a outlaw fugitive. And as the sun rose on up higher in the sky, the heat commenced to come on strong. Real soon I had to pull off my new jacket and lay it across the saddle behind me. I kept a looking around in all directions too. I said I was bored, but I sure weren’t relaxed. I looked ahead looking for signs a life or for some boundary marker to tell me whenever I was leaving Texas, and I looked behind me for any sign a the pursuing posse or a the Pigg family. I rid on and on, though, and never seed nothing. It was like as if I was the only human critter on the face of the whole entire earth.

  I stopped again ‘long about noon and had myself some more beans and bacon and hard bread, and I washed it all down with a little water. Then I figgered I had best give some a my water to my horse, and I done that by pouring some into the crown a my hat and holding it for the horse to drink out of. I wished then that I’d a got something for the horse to eat, ’cause the ground round about there was pretty barren. I mounted up again and headed on west. “First chance we get,” I said to that ole horse, “I’ll feed you real good. I promise you that. I’ll let you eat as long as you can stand it.”

  Come evening I found us another watering spot, and even though there was still some good riding time left in the day, I decided to stop for the night. I figgered that if I was to go on to take advantage of the daylight hours, I might not be so lucky as to come across another good camping site. I was sure too that the mare could use some good grazing and a good long drink a water, not just a hat crown full. So I made me another camp and fixed me up another meal. Then I just laid back beside my little campfire and rested myself a waiting for the sun to go on down. And I thought back on what had for sure been the longest day of my whole life.

  All that long day I hadn’t seed another live human being, nor a house nor nothing man-made. I sure was longing for some company, but I knowed too that if I was to see anyone a coming, I wouldn’t know if it was the law or the Piggses after me or what. I had powerful mixed feelings about the prospect of seeing people. If them Piggses was to catch me, I knowed that they’d kill me in a minute. I didn’t know what the law would do to me, if it was to catch me, being as how I was just a kid. They might lock me away or they might hang me to death. I just didn’t know, but I didn’t want to find out neither. Fin’ly I went on to sleep, and I guess I slept all right, though I did have some troubling dreams run through my head ever ’now and then.

  Whenever I fin’ly woke up, I could tell that it was early daylight, but my eyes hadn’t yet actual focused on nothing. They was still trying to open up, and they felt kinda stuck together too. I rolled over on my side and yawned, and then I rolled back over on my back and rubbed my eyes a bit. I started to set up and try to open my eyes at the same time, and then I seed legs and feet wearing tall boots, and they was standing all around me. I blinked and swiped real hard at my eyes when I seed that, and then I set up right straight, and I reached fast for that new Colt revolver of mine.

  “Whoa, there, boy,” one a the men said. “You going to kill all of us with that thing?”

  I thought for a bit about what he said, and I reckoned that I might could kill me one or two of them, but then the rest of them would kill me for sure. I hadn’t had time to count them yet. “I ain’t going to let you hang me,” I said. “I believe I’d ruther get shot.”

  “Now, who’s talking about hanging?” the man said. “Or shooting for that matter?”

  “You ain’t the posse?” I said.

  “We for sure ain’t a posse,” he said. “You got a posse after you?”

  “If you ain’t it, then I ain’t saying,” I said. “Likely I done said too much already. Where are we at?”

  “We ain’t much of nowhere,” he said. “Where you headed?”

  “New Mexico,” I said.

  “Well, you made it that far,” he said.

  “You mean, I’m in New Mexico?” I said.

  “That’s right,” he said.

  “Well, hell,” I said. “Then I ain’t got to worry none about no posse. Say, you ain’t the Pigg family, are you?”

  “Boy, you sound like you must be in a hell of a jam,” he said. “Put that damn six-shooter down, will you? My name’s Rod Chambers. Me and these other boys are cowhands working for the Boxwood outfit. We seen your camp and thought we’d stop in and ask for your hospitality. That’s all.”

  “Oh,” I said. I put down the gun, and I stood up kind of slow like. I wiped my hands on my britches, and then I stuck out my right hand to shake with old Chambers.

  “I’m—I’m Parmlee,” I said. He shuck with me, and then he interduced me to the rest a his gang.

  “These boys here is Shorty, Tex, Mac and Bo,” he said. I figgered they must all have other names, but then, I had another name too, what I hadn’t give out. I wondered if I should ought to have give him a total fake name, but it was too late to worry about that. I had done give it out proper, although not complete. I shuck with each a them other cowhands, and Chambers said, “Mind if I stoke up your fire some?”

  “No,” I said. “Hell no. Help yourself.”

  He knelt down and commenced to poking at what was left a my little fire, while ole Tex went after some more sticks for it. “You got any coffee?” Bo asked me.

  “No, I ain’t,” I said.

  “Well, we got some,” he said. “I’ll fetch it.”

  Well, by God, before long, between their stuff and mine, we had us a hell of a breakfast a cooking. They seemed like pretty good guys, and I was glad to have their company. I was special glad to know that I had made it safe clean out a Texas, and that from there on I’d only have to watch out for them Piggses and not for no posse too. I kind a wished that I knowed what a Pigg looked like though. As far as I knowed, the only Pigg I had ever saw was the very one what I had kilt, and I kept on a trying to recall just what he had looked like, but I couldn’t really quite call up his damned ugly features. I knowed for sure I wouldn’t be able to spot his kinfolks just by looking at them.

  Well, we et up the breakfast and drunk us a couple a pots a coffee, and then we cleaned up the dishes and put out the fire. We all saddled up our horses and mounted up ready to ride on out a there in our own directions. Chambers looked over at me.

  “Where you headed, Parmlee?” he asked me.

  “I don’t rightly know,” I said. “I ain’t figgered it out yet.”

  “Well, why don’t you just ride along with us?” he said. “If you’re needing a job, I reckon I might be able to fix you up. I�
�m foreman over at the Boxwood.”

  “I ain’t never punched no cows,” I said.

  “You can learn, can’t you?” he asked me, and I opined as how I likely could, so he told me to ride on along with them, and I did. It wasn’t like as if I had no other major prospects just then. I thought about how I had felt whenever I first woke up that morning and seed them boots standing all around me, not knowing if they was posse or Piggses, and all of a sudden it felt kinda good to be headed for a regular job with folks what didn’t want to kill me or nothing like that. And besides, after the way I had felt looking at them boots that early morning, I begun to consider that maybe I wasn’t really cut out to be no bad outlaw after all.

  We rid on for two full days before we come up to the main headquarters a the Boxwood. It was a hell of a big spread. Ole Chambers give me a bunk in the bunkhouse and interduced me all around. Since I weren’t no real cowhand, he put me to work doing all kinds a chores: fetching firewood, peeling taters, washing dishes, just any old damn thing, but I didn’t mind. Hell, whenever he put me to mending fence, I felt like as if I had been promoted way on up there.

  The other thing was that I found out that ole Tex was some slick with a handgun, and I begged him into teaching me. I used my stole Colt, and I got to be pretty good with it, but it tuck me a fair amount a time in the doing. I recollect the first time ole Tex tuck me out. He set up some empty tins, mostly beans and peaches tins what we had a plenty of around the ranch; he set them up on a fence rail, and then he said, “Plunk at them, Kid,” and so I slapped at my Colt like for a real fast draw, you know, and I bruised the heel a my hand and never even pulled the damn thing out. Ole Tex, he never laughed at me for that, but he just only tole me to slow it down and to be easy and deliberate like. So with my hand a hurting like hell, I tried it like he said. Then I went and wore a blister on my thumb, the one what thumbs back the ole hammer, you know, and Tex, he said that I had ought to lay off for a spell, but I wouldn’t have none a that. I taped up my thumb and just kept right on at it. Eventual the bruise went away and the blister healed over, and I become a little better at it each day. Well, my draw got smooth and easy and deliberate like, but my aim weren’t worth snake shit.