THE RECKONING
A cattle drive brings Jess face to face with bitter memories
Slim Sherman and some other ranchers in the Laramie area have secured a lucrative contract to supply cattle to the army for several forts and native reservations in the Territory. The cattle have been fattening on lush summer grass and beef prices are as good as they have ever been. Slim and the ranchers will be rounding up the cattle and starting a two week trail drive north in a few days.
Major Richard Duncan, the army officer in charge of purchasing, is arriving this morning to go over the details of the contract with Slim, who is organizing the paperwork for the group.
As the morning sun streams into his bedroom Jess Harper awakens and smells bacon frying, biscuits baking and fresh coffee brewing. Normally Jess would be the first one at the table but he has put in a late night of drinking and poker and is not exactly feeling bright eyed and bushy tailed this morning. But he remembers this is the day the cavalry officer in charge of the cattle deal will be coming to the ranch and he reluctantly swings out of bed, shaves and dresses .
Jess comes into the kitchen to see that Andy has set the table with the good china and Jonesy has made extra bacon, biscuits and flapjacks. Slim is already at his desk, a ledger book open in front of him.
Meanwhile, two soldiers ride up to the ranch house, dismount and tie their horses. A cavalry officer a few years older than Slim and Jess walks up to the door, along with a young private. The officer knocks sharply.
Slim opens the door, smiles, and offers his hand. "Major Duncan. Come in."
The major removes his hat as he steps in.
" Don't let us interrupt… " begins Duncan, seeing the table set for breakfast.
"You're not interruptin, Major. Bin expectin you. Sit down," says Slim hospitably. "Have some breakfast 'n then we'll go over the contracts."
"This is Private Talbot," says Duncan, as both soldiers sit down at the table.
The young private appears ill mannered and ill at ease. He hastily removes his hat at the table, catching the Major's disapproving glance at his head. After being introduced he grabs a fork and attacks the flapjacks and bacon Jonesy has placed in front of him.
Slim brings the coffee pot to the table and fills their cups as he introduces his family. "This is my brother Andy. That's Jonesy -he cooked this great breakfast, and Jess Harper here helps us run the place."
Jess looks up from his breakfast and wordlessly acknowledges the visitors. He is still under the weather from the previous evening and is not interested in chewing the fat with a couple of strangers. He's grateful that Andy is chattering away, asking about army life and Slim is recounting the story of his family's arrival in Wyoming.
"And where do you hail from, Mr Harper?" asks Duncan pleasantly, as he butters another biscuit.
"Texas," says Jess.
There is dead silence.
Duncan's congenial expression vanishes. . He puts the knife and biscuit down on his plate. "You were in the war?"
"Yeah,' says Jess.
"Fighting for the south, I assume," says Duncan.
"That's right," snaps Jess sensing the tangible hostility from Duncan and Talbot. " I was fightin till I was captured 'n spent a year in a prison camp," he adds bitterly.
"I share your sentiments about prison camps, Mr Harper," says Duncan. "My brother died in Andersonville."
"Rebs kilt my Pa at Shiloh," says Talbot, talking with his mouth full of flapjacks.
"It was a hard time all round," says Slim calmly, trying to change the air. "But out here we're all workin together to build this new territory…maybe it's best we forget the past 'n move on…"
"You're an idealist Mr Sherman," says Duncan. "But it's not always easy to "forget the past." I'm sure Mr Harper would agree."
Jess drops his cutlery onto his plate and stands up abruptly. "Stage'll be here any minute. I best get the team ready." He pushes away from the table and strides over to the door, grabbing his hat and going out without another word to those at the table.
Duncan takes a sip of coffee and returns to his biscuit.
"I owe my life to Jess Harper many times over, Major," says Slim.. "He's like family to us. He rode dispatch for the federal army after he was paroled. He's scouted for General Crook and Colonel Custer…they speak well o' him."
"George Custer is an insubordinate showboat and in my opinion George Crook is rather too fond of the savages he was sent here to subdue," says Duncan dismissively. "I suggest we get to our business Mr Sherman. I have other pressing matters to attend to today," says Duncan officiously, pushing away from the table and standing up.
A short time later Duncan and Slim have concluded their business, and the morning stage has been sent on its way with fresh horses.
Jess is standing on the porch, leaning on the railing looking down the lane that leads away from the ranch.
Slim takes two mugs of fresh coffee outside and hands Jess a mug.
Slim sits down in his porch chair. "You still riled at Duncan?".
"Reckon he brought it all back- day we was taken by Federals … the prison camp…" says Jess.
"Thought you put that to rest when you found out what really happened to Knute and made your peace with Halleck," says Slim.
Jess turns to face Slim. "Halleck weren't the first one in charge o' the camp. Before him was Major Frederick Hoffman."
"Hoffman …seem to recall some bad business bout that name," says Slim.
"He kept us near starvin, ain't give us tents or blankets…anybody spoke out got a whippin. "
"The scars on your back?" asks Slim.
"Yeah," says Jess bitterly. "Finally one o' the Yankee guards got word out to a Yankee bigshot 'n Hoffman got replaced by Halleck."
"What happened to Hoffman?" asks Slim.
" Halleck told me he was kilt at the Battle o' Wilderness," says Jess.
"War's long over for him then, Jess," says Slim. "Time it was over for you too." Slim finishes his coffee and stands up. . "We got a busy week ahead."
Later that day Jess and Slim are rounding up cattle. A mother cow and her calf have ventured into a heavily wooded area by the creek and have gotten separated. Slim and Jess are tracking them and hear the cow calling to the calf.
Slim spots the mother cow through the trees, standing by the creek. He dismounts and takes his lariat off his saddle. "I'll lead her out that way," he says pointing to a rough path leading away from the creek bed. "See if you can find the calf. He can't be far."
Jess dismounts and carefully finds his footing down the steep, irregular embankment. He hears the faint cries of the calf coming from some distance away and walks in that direction. As he steps over a large tangled root on a rocky part of the slope he trips and falls, tumbling through the weeds and saplings on the slope.
When he finally lands he struggles to his knees, conscious but slightly dazed and momentarily disoriented. And for a few moments it is as though a portal has opened to the past…..
Jess is in a group of gray clad soldiers, crouched in the cover of some dense woods, silent and still, holding their rifles at the ready. A Confederate captain, Ben Tanner, is kneeling at the front of the patrol. Tanner wears a gray tunic, but instead of a soldier's cap sports his own Stetson, a white goose feather in the band. Tanner has been only very recently assigned to the unit and has not yet had the time to meet all the men.
"I'll scout up ahead," says Captain Tanner. He points to two soldiers. "Sergeant Riley and Private O'Brien. Come with me. Rest of you stay down 'n out of sight."
Riley and O'Brien disappear after Tanner into the woods. Jess and the rest of the men wait tensely for their return.
A short time later shots are heard. Then there is the sound of heavy bootsteps snapping the undergrowth, coming quickly closer. A group of Yankee soldiers steps out of the woods, surrounding Jess and the other Confederates.
A Yankee major steps forward, his service revolver drawn. "Drop your weapons. You men are prisoners of the army of the United States. "
A few moments later a burly Yankee soldier steps out of the woods, carrying the body of Sergeant Riley. He throws the body down at the Major's feet. "Had a bead on them other two. Fired a couple o' shots. Good chance I hit 'em."
"Jess! Jess!" Jess seems to hear Private O'Brien's voice- faint, but strangely urgent -calling to him, from far away. Then he hears Sergeant Riley's gruff, Irish accented voice calling "Harper!", again as though from some distance away.
He is about to answer- to ask what they want - when he hears his name called again- this time by a strong, familiar voice.
"Jess!" Jess looks up to see Slim standing over him. "You OK?" Slim lends a hand as Jess gets unsteadily to his feet.
""Yeah," says Jess. "Heard the calf bawlin over that way," says Jess, pointing down the creek bed.
"Little critter found his way back to mama all by himself," says Slim smiling. "Gettin onto dark. We best get home." But there is something about the haunted look in Jess's eyes makes him ask again," Sure you're OK?"
"Sure Pard," says Jess, trying to shake off Slim's concern. "Reckon them cows is smarter'n us. We oughta just give the lead steer the map 'n let him deliver the herd."
"Cheaper'n payin cowhands," Slim agrees. "We got do the hirin tomorrow."
"Think any of 'em'll be spooked off by that rustlin over in in Nebraska?" asks Jess.
"Hard to say .Likely why Duncan 'n some troopers are comin along on the drive," says Slim, noting the look of anger on Jess's face at the mention of Duncan's name.
"Just stay out of his way, Jess," says Slim firmly. "This drive means a lot to the ranch."
"Heard Jonesy say it was chicken stew tonight," says Jess, deflecting Slim's warning. "Better hurry or Andy'll eat'll be eatin our share."
The tension between them momentarily broken, they return to their horses and ride back to the ranch, mother cow and calf in tow.
The next day Jonesy and Jess finish loading supplies onto the chuckwagon that will be used on the drive. Jonesy is coming along as cook. Ma Bailey, who runs the boarding house in Laramie has agreed to stay at the ranch and cook for the stage stop. Slim has hired Billy and Jimmy Brown, 18 year old twins from a neighbouring ranch, to help with the stock and the ranch work. Andy will be supervising the stage stop and the temporary help, however he would much prefer to be on the drive.
"Why can't I come, Slim?" he whines. "Jonesy's goin."
"Only reason he's comin is we can't afford to hire out for a cook," says Slim impatiently, He has been over this same ground with Andy numerous times the past few days. "You're always sayin how I won't let you grow up – well here's your chance to take on a man's responsibility."
Slim smiles and puts a hand on Andy's shoulder. ""We got a lot at stake here, Andy. This drive goes way it should we can start on some o' those plans we've always talked about – the new breedin stock, your schoolin….. I'm countin on you to look after things here."
"I won't let you down, Slim," Andy reluctantly assures him.
"I know you won't," says Slim, swinging onto Alamo, and riding away.
Jess has already ridden out on Traveller and Jonesy is driving the chuckwagon, hoping these horses will be less fractious than the stage stock. .
Jess and Jonesy arrive at the rendezvous point some miles north of Laramie. A large herd of cattle, all bearing the brands of their home ranches, has already been assembled.
Jonesy parks the chuck wagon and with Jess's help begins to set up the equipment for the evening meal.
The other ranch owners have gathered at the wagon of Morgan Farrell, a middle aged rancher who had been a good friend of Slim's Father, Matt Sherman.
Nearby, Farrell's foreman Joe Gallivan, and the foreman of the Bar D ranch, Andy Wilson, are signing up cowhands.
Slim rides up to the Farrell wagon and dismounts, greeting his friends among the area ranchers.
Morgan Farrell steps forward and offers Slim his hand. "Good to see you, Slim. Bin a while."
Slim has not seen Farrell for five years and he is shocked by the change in his appearance. The man he remembers as fit, robust and gregarious now appears stooped and paunchy. His face is flushed and puffy, his abundant grey hair is thin and patchy. Where Farrell had always taken pride in his appearance to the extent Matt Sherman had nicknamed him "Dude", he is now wearing a stained, rumpled, too tight jacket, missing several buttons.
"Good to see you Morgan," says Slim warmly, taking his hand.
"Got a surprise for you Slim," says Farrell with a sly smile, gesturing to his wagon.
The canvas at the back of the wagon parts and a young woman appears. She smiles and steps down the makeshift stairs of crates placed outside the wagon.
Slim stares at the girl, her slim figure dressed in a neat black riding habit, her blonde hair caught in a loose ponytail, tumbling down her back. As she walks closer he notes she has the most unusual green eyes.
"You remember my daughter Sally," says Farrell.
Slim remembers a skinny, freckled girl a bit younger than himself, that he and his friends took delight in tormenting with small amphibians and mammals. She was sent east years ago to school and he had never given her another thought…until now.
"What happened to your pigtails?" says Slim finally, looking Sally over appreciatively.
"I got tired o' horrid neighbour boys stickin 'em in inkwells at school," says Sally with mock anger.
"None o' that!" says Farrell, laughing and pulling Slim and Sally closer together. "I want you two to be friends. Why don't you take a walk together 'n get reacquainted?"
Slim offers Sally his arm. "Miss Farrell?"
Sally takes Slim's arm and gives him a conciliatory smile as they stroll away from the others. The sun is beginning to set over the western horizon.
"I'd forgotten how beautiful it is," says Sally dreamily. She shivers slightly as the night breeze picks up. Slim gallantly takes off his jacket and puts it around her shoulders.
Although captivated by her charm and nearness Slim cannot help but address the practicality of the situation. "Trail drive's no place for a girl, Sally," says Slim. "What're you doin here?"
Sally looks out at the sunset for several long moments. "I'm worried about Pa… Mother died five years ago…after that his letters to me were so sad …then there were no more letters…I knew I had to come home…"
Slim is about to speak when there is the sound of the dinner bell clanging back at camp.
"Looks like Jonesy has dinner ready. He don't like it if we're late," says Slim.
They walk arm in arm back to the camp.
Jonesy has recruited a couple of young trailhands with some cooking experience to help serve dinner – a hearty stew with biscuits and lots of fresh hot coffee. He has brought several pies from the ranch as a first night treat but as he cuts and dishes out the pie he warns the men not to expect dessert after this.
As Jonesy and the boys are washing the pots at the chuckwagon a couple of young cowpunchers, Dave Martin and Bob Ford, step out of the dark. Jonesy looks up from the pot he is scrubbing.
The taller one, Dave Martin, acts as spokesman. "Mr Jonesy sir, we just wanted to tell you that was the best trail food we ever et. Them biscuits is even better than my Ma's, 'n she's got a name fer biscuits…."
Jonesy smiles and responds to the flattery. "Well, you fellers work hard all day…figure it's my job to see you're well fed…"
Martin continues, making a show of digging into his pocket, "we was just wonderin was there was any more o' them biscuits….we could pay you…"
Jonesy pretends to search for the left overs in various pans and bowls, coming to the pan he knows they are in, last. "Well, how bout that! Just happen to have four biscuits left…keep your money boys…" he says, handing them the biscuits. "Maybe you oughta share 'em with a couple o' others…"
"We'll do just that Mr Jones," says Martin nobly.
The two men walk away, giving Jonesy a wave of thanks.
Jonesy picks up another blackened pot. "Good to know there's at least some people round her appreciate what I do…"
Martin and Ford walk out of Jonesy's earshot and stop a short distance from a campfire.
Big Boy Randall, a large man vertically and horizontally, steps up behind them. "You get 'em?" he asks sharply.
"We got four," says Martin. "Dollar a piece."
"You said two bits each before," says Randall angrily.
"Whatd'ya know-price went up," says Martin. "You want 'em or not?"
"Yeah," says Randall, grudgingly reaching into his pocket and handing over $4. He takes the biscuits and stuffs one into his mouth as he walks away.
Martin and Ford walk up to the campfire where a number of men, Jess Harper among them, are seated on logs, rocks or their saddles, playing poker on a large wooden crate.
"Let me play," says Ford, grabbing for the money. "I'm luckier 'n you."
"Nuthin doin," says Martin. "I done all the work gittin the money."
Martin steps forward and occupies a log which has just been vacated by another trailhand whose luck has run out. "Deal me in," he says.
Sometime later several others drop out until just Jess, Martin, Joe Gallivan and Andy Wilson, the two ranch foremen are left.
Morgan Farrell approaches the group. "Thought I'd set in for a few hands fore I turn in, if it's allright with you boys." He sits down somewhat unsteadily on a rock near the campfire.
" Sure Mr Farrell," says Gallivan, eager to please his boss. "Why don't you set here on my saddle?" he offers, vacating the saddle for a nearby log.
Farrell takes him up on the offer, then looks at Martin. "I seen you somewheres?."
"I'm workin for the Bar D, Mr Farrell," says Martin, with an ingratiating smile.
"That's it," recalls Farrell.
Then he turns and looks at Jess. "Don't know you." As he speaks there is a strong smell of liquor on his breath. His face is flushed and his eyes are glassy. He has obviously been drinking. A lot.
"Jess Harper. Work on Sherman Ranch," says Jess.
"Do recall somethin bout that. Heard Slim Sherman hired some drifter'd done jail time. That you?" says Farrell.
"Yeah," says Jess curtly, his blue eyes narrowing at Farrell.
"Well, let's play cards!" exclaims Farrell impatiently, slapping the leather saddle he is seated.
Gallivan deals. Jess wins the hand and adds the few dollars from the pot to the rest of his winnings. Jess continues to win most of the hands. Farrell becomes increasingly belligerent as he continues to lose.
Finally the fire has burned down and they have agreed it is the last hand. Gallivan and Wilson have folded. Martin has long since blown the $4 he got for Jonsey's biscuits and is just watching and dealing.
Jess and Farrell pick up their cards. Jess fans his hand and sees three aces. They both take cards. Jess bets $10.
Farrell is holding three 10s- the best hand he's had all night. He loosens his collar, takes out a handkerchief and wipes his face- which is damp with sweat. He opens his billfold, and finds it empty. He bet his last greenbacks on the previous hand, in which he'd held 2 losing pair. He searches all his coat and vest pockets.
"Seem to be outa cash at the moment," he says, with an embarrassed smile. "Don't wanna keep you boys waitin by goin back to my wagon for more money….you take a marker, Harper?"
Jess is in no mood to play nice with this man who has insulted him. Most of the other cowhands know he is a drifter from Texas but not everyone knows he has done jail time. He is furious with Farrell for revealing this information.
"Make it a rule not to take markers," says Jess coldly.
Farrell wants to call Jess' bet. "How bout I put up somethin you understand then- got a herdful o' cows out there Any one of 'em'd be enough to cover the bet. You go cut one out tomorrow…."
"No,' says Jess, enjoying Farrell's obvious desperation.
Farrell glares at Jess and is about to say something else when Slim and Sally walk up to the campfire.
"There you are!" says Sally. "We've been looking all over camp for you," she says to Farrell, as though scolding a mischievous child.
"Daughter- give me $10 so I can finish this hand," pleads Farrell.
"I don't have any money with me, Pa," says Sally apologetically.
She sees Slim move to put his hand in his pocket. She takes hold of Slim's arm and holds it. Slim gets the message he is not to subsidize Sally's father.
Jess picks up his tin coffee mug. "Tell you what, Farrell- you give me a swig outa that flask you're carryin 'n you can see my hand "
Farrell is clearly embarrassed. He has promised Sally he'd quit drinking. He knows he should deny he is carrying liquor and get up and leave. But he cannot overcome the compulsion to finish the game. He reaches into his inner coat pocket and takes out a small silver flask. He opens it and pours a slug of liquor into Jess' mug.
Jess flips over his card to reveal the three aces.
Farrell does not turn over his cards. "You win," he mumbles.
Jess snatches his winnings off the makeshift table.. Then he contemptuously flings the liquor Farrell has given him out of his cup onto the ground, stands up and walks away without another word.
Sometime later Jess is making up his bedroll under the chuckwagon when Slim returns to their campsite.
"Why were you treatin him like that? asks Slim.
"Who?" says Jess defiantly, removing his gunbelt and wrapping it carefully around the gun, placing it near his saddle which serves as his pillow. .
"Morgan Farrell," says Slim angrily." Why were you provokin him?"
"Maybe he was provokin me," snaps Jess.
"Morgan helped Ma and Pa get settled out here. Don't know what they'd've done without him," continues Slim.
"That was nigh on 20 years ago Slim," says Jess. "People change."
Slim cannot deny Farrell's slovenly appearance, so different from how he remembered him. "I know he looks kinda rough right now…but Sally- that's his daughter- explained all that…her ma died about five years ago… he's bin tore up with grief ever since…"
"He's drinkin…..a lot… you saw how he was," says Jess.
"He's promised to give it up," says Slim.
"He ain't gonna do that," says Jess. "And I ain't seen many as far gone as him with gamblin…he'd of bet his whole herd if there'd bin a big enough pot on the table."
"Stop it, Jess!" says Slim. "You don't know him."
"And you think you do?" snaps Jess.
Jonesy sticks his head out the opening in the canvas covering of the chuckwagon. He sleeps in the wagon with the supplies, refusing to sleep on the ground in case there are snakes. "You two gonna keep jawin all night?" he says angrily. "I gotta have breakfast ready for first light…would appreciate gittin an hour or so o' sleep…"
Jess rolls under the wagon and lies down on the rain slicker he has placed on the ground, then pulls a blanket over himself. He pulls his hat down over his eyes.
"I'll be along in a while," says Slim, heading back over the Farrell wagon, where Sally Farrell has told him she'll be waiting.
The next morning Major Duncan is waiting at Morgan Farrell's wagon to go over a discrepancy in the number of cattle he has stated he is providing in the contract and the number counted by the troopers, who have been verifying the numbers from all the contributing ranches. Farrell's total is 50 cows fewer than have been pledged in the contract.
Duncan knows Farrell is one of the largest ranchers in the territory and is prepared to treat him with deference. Duncan takes out the contract and a fountain pen and indicates the section in the contract where he has made the change in cattle numbers, asking Farrell to initial the changes.
"Don't know how that happened Major- less'n some o' my boys're seein double," he says with a nervous laugh.
Duncan manages a weak smile. "No matter –it's been rectified now."
"Slim Sherman done up that contract." says Farrell. " Slim's a good head fer business. And he's a hell of a stockman," says Farrell with approval.
"I've met Mr. Sherman and his family," says Duncan. "What do you know of the hired man – the Confederate- Harper, was it?"
"Don't know him at all," says Farrell. "But I hear he's done jail time."
"I haven't the slightest doubt of that," says Duncan.
"Was in a card game with him last night...he won dang near every hand…ain't nobody THAT lucky…course I can't prove nuthin…" says Farrell, walking back the implication a bit.
"My men will keep an eye on him," Duncan assures Farrell. "I wouldn't trust any rebel – and certainly not one had been in a prison camp."
"That'd make him meaner'n a rattler 'n twice as dangerous " agrees Farrell.
"Mr Farrell!" Cole James, one of Farrell's trailhands, walks up to Farrell. He is also a southerner and has overheard much of Farrell's conversation with Duncan. He gives Duncan a look of cold hatred as he walks away.
"What is it, James?" asks Farrell.
"Boys was wantin to know when you wanna start movin out the herd," says James.
"Soon as Slim Sherman gives the order," says Farrell. He goes to the back of the wagon and calls "Sally! You bout ready? We're leavin soon." When he gets no answer he steps up and pulls aside the canvas. Sally is nowhere to be seen….
Meanwhile Slim and Jess and the trailhands are going over the logistics of moving the herd, the route to be followed and how far they will travel that day – they agree that 10 miles will be a good start.
The trailhands all ride to their positions and the cattle drive begins. The cattle are well fed, watered and well behaved. The weather is perfect and things go well. By late afternoon Slim signals to turn the herd toward the grassy area along the creek they have been following all day so the cattle can have their grass and water before bedding down for the night. The men settle the herd, then Slim designates the first shift of riders to take the night watch. The rest of the men come in for dinner.
Jonesy and his young assistants serve the men piping hot beans, bacon, biscuits and coffee. The men are tired and eat quickly and quietly. The men who are taking second watch return to their campsites and bedrolls for a few hours of sleep before riding out to the herd.
Jonesy is finishing putting away the pots and cooking utensils while Jess sits by the fire cleaning his gun. Slim returns from a brief meeting with the trailhands on watch and goes into the supply wagon where their extra shirts and jeans are stored.
"Hey Jonesy, you seen my white shirt?" Slim says from inside the wagon.
"Ain't packed it," says Jonesy. "Figured you wouldn't be needin it out here."
Slim steps down from the wagon, shirtless. "I need a clean shirt Jonesy."
"In the flour sack- hangin from the middle bow," says Jonesy. "Washed the blue chambray last week. Ain't bin wore since."
Slim goes back into the wagon. "Got it!" says Slim. A moment later he steps out of the wagon, tucking in his shirttails. He steps up to the little shaving mirror nailed to the backboard of the wagon and takes a comb from his jeans pocket. He slicks back his thick blonde hair, and studies his reflection for a brief moment to make sure the cowlick in his hair is lying flat.
"Goin courtin?" says Jess.
Slim just smiles. He finishes doing up his shirt. "Don't wait up." He walks away in the direction the Farrell wagon. .
Jess finishes cleaning the gun, loads it and spins the chamber before putting it back into his holster and strapping it on. "Looks like old Slim's fallin hard for Miss Sally Farrell," says Jess, pouring the last of the coffee into his tin mug. He has the midnight watch on the herd and wants to stay alert. "You reckon he's thinkin serious bout her?
"I dunno Jess," says Jonesy. "There's nuthin I'd rather see than Slim settled with a sweet little gal… but there's somethin bout this one don't seem right…he say anythin to you bout her?" asks Jonesy
"Ain't likely, after the run-in I had with her old man," says Jess
Jonesy dumps the dregs out of the coffee pot and makes sure the last embers of fire are out. "Reckon I'll turn in…"
When he looks up he sees Major Duncan and Joe Gallivan approaching. "Evenin' Major," says Jonesy.
Jess is saddling Traveller when Duncan and Gallivan walk up. He doesn't acknowledge them and continues adjusting the cinch strap on his saddle.
"Mr Jones," says Duncan. "I'm looking for Mr Sherman."
"He ain't here right now," says Jonesy. "Anythin wrong?"
"I want to be sure the herd is fully secured for the night," says Duncan. "Please ask Mr Sherman to report to me when he returns." Duncan turns and walks off into the darkness.
Gallivan hangs back, letting Duncan get out of earshot. He watches Jess, sliding his rifle in to his saddle scabbard. "Hope that jail time you done weren't fer cattle rustlin," taunts Gallivan.
Jess makes a move toward Gallivan but Jonesy grabs his arm. "Easy Jess. It's what he wants," says Jonesy.
Gallivan smirks, satisfied that he has riled Jess. "Another time, Harper." He walks off.
Jess is about to get on his way when Cole James walks out of the darkness and approaches Jess.."Mr Harper., might I have a word? "
"Yeah, sure," says Jess, although he is anxious to get away.
"Heard that Yankee Major tellin Farrell you was in a Yankee prison camp in the war," says James.
"That's right," says Jess.
"What company you was in, Mr Harper?" asks James.
Jess tells him.
"Why, if this don't beat all!" explains James. "My kid brother was in that outfit. Name was Andy… Andrew James …he weren't but 15 when he joined up but he was big fer his age… you recall him?"
Jess is about to shake his head "no" when James says, "he played the mouth organ… Dixie, 'n Bonny Blue Flag…'n he played hymns too…our Ma liked it when he played hymns…"
An image comes to Jess of a big kid with a mouth organ softly playing hymns for dying men in the prison camp, until he took the fever himself and died.
"I do remember him," says Jess. "He played that mouth organ real good…"
"Was you by chance with him when he died, Mr Harper?" asks James, tears running down his dirty, unshaven face.
"No," says Jess. "But some o' the other boys was with him," lies Jess, remembering how Andy had been moved to isolated area of the compound to die alone lest he spread the fever.
There is a long silence. "I gotta get out to the herd now, Cole," says Jess kindly.
"Sure Mr Harper," says James. "It puts my mind at rest knowin my brother died among friends."
Jess mounts up, and rides out to the herd. It is almost midnight. He waves to the night watch trailhands as he rides around the quiet herd. As he nears the back of the herd there are sounds of cattle becoming restless and moving.
As Jess reaches the back of the herd he sees that several hundred head of cattle are being driven by a large group of riders, away to the east, across the creek. He smells smoke and sees that a fire has been set and is burning a short distance from where the back of the herd had bedded down.
He rides quickly to the fire where two of the nightwatch trailhands- Big Boy Randall and Eddie Calder had been trying unsuccessfully to smother the fire with soil and sod before it panicked the herd. Randall and Calder had been playing cards and drinking and then fallen asleep on their watch, when someone had set the fire.
"Come on!" Jess shouts to Randall and Calder. "We gotta help turn the herd!" The main herd is stampeding toward the wagons of the encampment. Jess and the others gallop along the left flank of the herd toward the leading cattle Most of the trailhands and army troopers in camp are now mounted and working frantically to turn the herd and slow it down.
Slim is on Alamo near the front of the stampede. He guides Alamo as close as he dares to the herd, then fires his six shooter into the ground several times in front of charging cattle. Several trailhands riding a short distance from Slim also draw their guns and fire as he did.
The leading cattle begin to veer to the right and the herd begins a wide pivot, following the direction of the leaders. The pace of the stampede slows as the cattle change direction and begin to lose forward momentum, running in a wide circle.
Dust from the stampeding cattle and the smoke from the fire which had been set at the back of the herd sting the eyes of the men, reducing visibility. Many of the men are coughing despite having pulled their bandanas up over their mouths and noses.
As soon as Jess sees the herd turning he pulls up Traveller, intending to double back to follow the rustlers, to see the direction they have taken with the stolen cattle. In the smoke and dust and noise he is unable to make contact with any of the other men to ride with him. He gallops Traveller back to the scene of the fire then rides to the creekbed. He pulls up Traveller and waits for a short time. When it does not appear that the rustlers have left anyone behind on watch, he urges Traveller across the creek.
He follows cautiously but steadily through the wooded area along the creek. After several miles the land opens and there is less cover. Jess ties Traveller to a small tree and climbs up a rocky embankment. He sees the stolen cattle on the grassland below, guarded by several riders.
He hears voices a short distance away below where he is hiding. Jess crawls closer. Dawn is just breaking, dimly lighting the two men who are about to mount up. One is a tall man in his 40s with a short black beard. His looks and voice are vaguely familiar to Jess but he can't place him.
"Nobody's comin after us tonight," says the man, speaking with a refined southern accent. "Main herd's likely still scattered seven ways from sundown."
The rustlers mount up and ride away. Jess watches them until they are out of sight.
Then he returns to Traveller and rides back to the ranchers' campsite.
By first light the main herd has been gathered and settled. A number of trailhands and troopers have been detailed to watch the cattle. The rest of the exhausted men have ridden back to camp, unsaddled their horses and crawled into their bedrolls, too tired to eat.
Jess leads Traveller back to the campsite, unsaddles him and pats his neck. He sits down wearily in front of the fire where Jonesy already has the coffee ready. Jess fills a mug, gratefully sipping the hot, strong brew.
Jonesy steps down out of the wagon. "Jess! Where the devil have you bin? Slim's bin lookin for you."
"I was…" begins Jess.
Before he can finish Slim, Duncan, Farrell and the other ranchers, Joe Gallivan and the other foremen gather at the campsite for a noisy meeting. The ranchers are demanding to know how the stampede began and how several hundred cattle were taken when Slim and Duncan had assured them the herd was secure.
As the ranchers occupy the available seating of logs and rocks and crates around the fire Jess vacates his seat and stands by the back of the wagon where the cooking supplies have been stored.
"Near as we can tell, fire that was set back o' the herd got things started," says Gar Kelly, one of the ranchers in the group. "How come them rustlers was able to walk right in 'n start that fire?"
Joe Gallivan is standing behind the circle of ranchers seated at the campfire. "Could be they got help from inside.."
"What do you mean by that Joe? "asks Kelly. "You sayin somebody here's workin with 'em?"
Randall and Calder see a cowardly opportunity to deflect the inevitable focus on their negligence in leaving the rear of the herd unprotected. "We was workin to put that fire out," says Randall. "Then Jess Harper come along 'n told us to git."
"That's right," says Calder. "That's how it was."
Before Jess can speak Gallivan sees his chance. "That so? Could be when Harper was doin jail time, he got to know some of them rustlers real good…'n they set to makin plans fer when they got out. " Gallivan steps forward and looks around at the seated ranchers. "When we was makin sure the hands was all accounted for after the cattle stopped runnin, Harper weren`t nowhere to be found.` He looks at Jess. "Where was you Harper- meetin with your rustler pals?"
All eyes turn to Jess. As Jess moves to step forward and speak to the group, a soup ladel behind him comes loose and is about to fall into the stacked pots. Jess instinctively turns to grab it- the slightest noise could set off the skittish cattle again. He catches the ladle, and crouches slightly, about to place it on the ground.
Gallivan, his vision partially obstructed by the men sitting around the fire, sees something in Jess's hand, and thinks Jess is drawing his gun. Gallivan pulls his gun and fires, hitting Jess in the left arm.
Jess staggers momentarily, bracing himself on the side of the wagon. Then he throws down the ladel and stands away from the wagon, assuming his gunfighter stance.
"All right Gallivan!" he shouts. "Wanna try it now, when my back's not turned!."
Gallivan sees his mistake. But Jess is in no mood to stand down.
"That's enough!" says Slim, walking forward and stepping between them, "You fools tryin to set off another stampede?" he says angrily.
"Stay outa this Slim!" warns Jess.
Slim walks closer to Jess, who is shaking with pain and anger. Slim puts a hand on Jess`s left shoulder. His arm is bleeding enough to soak the sleeve of his shirt. "You can settle with him Jess, but not here, not now."
But neither Jess nor Gallivan make any move to stand down.
Major Duncan steps forward "The arrival of this beef is critically important to the army.
If either of you men continues with this you will be arrested and subject to military justice.``
"He was goin for his gun!" protests Gallivan.
Duncan stoops and picks up the soup ladle. "The evidence would indicate otherwise." He drops the ladle down on the ground in front of Gallivan.
Duncan turns to Slim. `Mr Sherman, I suggest we meet in my tent and plan our strategy for the next few days. The herd and the men will rest today. We`ll get started all the earlier tomorrow.`
Slim and Duncan walk away together. The other ranchers drift away, muttering. Some of the other foreman gather around Gallivan and make sure he walks away with them..
Jess goes back to Traveller and throws the saddle blanket over his back.
`What do you think your doin?" says Jonesy.
"Gonna track them rustlers. I rode out after 'em after we turned the herd .That's where I was when they was countin heads…" says Jess.
"You ain;t goin nowhere till I tend that arm 'n you get some rest," says Jonesy. "Now set down there." Jonesy rips the rest of Jess' sleeve open and determines that the wound is just a deep graze with no serious damage. He cleans and bandages Jess's arm. "Now you get yourself some sleep," he orders.
Too tired to protest, Jess crawls onto his bedding under the supply wagon and is asleep almost immediately.
In a feverish dream Jess is again in the woods surrounded by federal troops. His hands and those of the other Confederate prisoners are tied as they are moved off in single file through the woods, under the rifles of the union troopers. After they have walked a short distance one of prisoners points into the undergrowth. "Look there!"
The line stops. There is a body, partially obscured by the undergrowth, lying a short distance away. The Confederates recognize the gray uniform, and the Stetson hat with a goosefeather in the band nearby. The body is lying face down and the head is soaked in blood.
"It's Tanner," says one of the prisoners to Jess.
Now Jess is lying on the ground in the compound at the prison camp, a blur of faces around him. His back feels like it is on fire. He feels firm, gentle hands tending his back and a calm voice say, "easy son. Hurts like the devil, I know. Have some water. " He turns on his side and takes a canteen from the old soldier who is tending him.
"I bin thinkin on how we come to be in here," says soldier," … them Yankees was layin fer us… we was set up 'n sold out…"
"Who by?" asks Jess.
"Dunno," says the old soldier. "Don't make no matter in here… try to sleep…"
Back under the supply wagon Jess tosses fitfully in his sleep, saying "Who? Who? Who? " more loudly each time.
"Jess!" In his dream he hears a comforting, familiar voice calling him. Jonesy is kneeling beside him. "Your arm botherin you? You was yellin out in your sleep."
"Bad dream, is all," says Jess. "What time is it?"
"Near 4 in the afternoon- you slept all day. Feel like some supper?" says Jonesy.
"Sure," says Jess. Jess puts on a clean shirt, eats dinner quickly, saddles Traveller and ties his bedroll on the back of the saddle. He puts on his jacket and fills his canteen. He checks that his rifle is loaded, puts extra shells into his saddle bags, and loads his six gun.
"Goin somewhere?" says Jonesy.
"I'm trackin them rustlers. Saw where they were headed this mornin. Don't want to lose 'em," says Jess. "Maybe I'll see whose buyin the cattle."
Jonesy hands Jess a sac. "There's some jerky 'n biscuits 'n some clean bandages and salve. You take care o' that arm."
"Thanks Jonesy," says Jess.
"What'll I tell Slim?" asks Jonesy.
"Tell him I've gone huntin," says Jess, mounting Traveller and riding off back to the creek and the trail of the rustlers.
Meanwhile Slim has dined with Sally and Morgan Farrell. Morgan has been tippling from his flask before Slim`s arrival and once he has eaten he begins to doze off.
He wakes up with a start when Sally begins to clear up. She brings the coffee pot and three cups to the table then goes to the back of the wagon for some of Jonesy's biscuits, to which she has added some peach preserves.
"Sure am glad to see you and Sally makin a match, Slim," says Farrell, smiling. "I weren't happy bout her comin out here- kinda men she'd meet. But she couldn't no better than Matt Sherman's boy!"
Slim smiles as Sally returns with the biscuits and jam..
"What're you two gossipin about?" says Sally, setting out the dessert and sitting down.
"I was just tellin Slim what a good lookin couple you two make," says Morgan.
"Oh, Pa!" says Sally, blushing.
After dessert and some brief conversation Morgan's eyes again close and his head drops onto his chest.
Sally and Slim decide to let Morgan sleep and slip quietly from the table. They stroll away from the wagons under the light of the full moon and stars. The warm, soft summer air makes for a romantic evening. Sally is wearing a pretty lace shawl, which she removes to better display her pretty frock and tiny waist. Slim carries the shawl as they walk further away from the campsite, arm in arm.
"Slim, don't pay no mind to Pa- he's just talkin…I mean about you'n me," says Sally apologetically.
"He's just lookin out for you, "says Slim.
"I know…and it's sweet," says Sally. "He thinks I need takin care of. But women are thinkin different now…we can even vote in Wyoming," says Sally. "Why shouldn't we own land and run ranches, same as men?"
"No reason," says Slim agreeably.
Sally looks up at Slim, tears brimming in her green eyes. "I'm just so worried about Pa, Slim. The drinkin…the gamblin…I've pleaded with him to stop…but it's no use…I'm so afraid that …that …" Sally appears to break down and looks away for a moment.
"That whatf?" he asks gently.
"I'm afraid he's gonna get drunk and get into some poker game and lose the ranch," says Sally, collapsing into quiet sobs against Slim's chest.
Slim holds her close and strokes her hair. He is thinking about what Jess had said about Morgan's drinking and gambling. "I can try talkin to him," Slim offers.
"Oh Slim, would you? "N when you do…maybe you could ask him to sign over the ranch to me…" says Sally, looking up at Slim, tears glistening on her lightly rouged cheeks. "For safekeepin," she adds.
Some time later Slim escorts Sally back to the wagon and says goodnight to her and Morgan. Only after he is half way back to his own wagon does he realize he is still holding Sally's shawl. He doubles back and arrives back at the Farrell wagon to find Morgan snoring in his chair by the fire and Sally nowhere in sight. Morgan startles awake, sensing someone standing nearby.
"Slim! What're you doin back here?" says Morgan.
Slim holds up the lacy shawl." I forgot to give this back to Sally. She around somewhere?"
Morgan points to the wagon where Sally sleeps. "Looks like she's turned in. If she's up sewin or readin, she keeps the lamp lit."
"Just give it to her then. Tell her I'll see her tomorrow," says Slim, handing Morgan the shawl.
"Will do, Slim!" says Morgan, happy that Slim's courtship of Sally appears to be progressing well.
Slim walks off into the darkness, back to his campsite.
Meanwhile Sally, who has changed into jeans and a workshirt, her blonde hair tied tightly back with a black ribbon, is making her way through the dakrness, carrying a lantern. When she is some distance from her father's wagon she stops and places the lantern on the ground. She looks around impatiently.
Joe Gallivan steps out of the darkness. "Lost, little lady?" he says, looking her over insolently and stepping closer to her, pulling her hair ribbon loose.
"Bout time you showed up," snaps Sally.
Meanwhile Jess retraces the trail he had followed the previous night- along the route the rustlers had followed, as they drove the stolen cattle north. After an hour or so he arrives at the open land where the stolen herd had been held for rebranding. He sees several locations where the ground has been burnt by the branding fires.
He inspects one site more closely – the ashes are still not cold. His spur clinks on something metallic near the fire. He bends over and picks up a short metal rod with a hook on the end. The rustlers had either gotten careless and left behind the main tool of their trade – a running iron, which could be used to alter any brand- or they had not yet all left.
As he throws down the running iron and drops to one knee to check the area for further evidence, several bullets whiz past him and drive into the dirt a short distance away. He dives to the ground and lies flat on his belly, trying to see where the bullets are coming from. There appears to be only one shooter, hidden in some rocky ridges a rifle shot distance away.
The bright moon passes behind a large bank of cloud, leaving the ground in front of the shooter a sea of black. Jess pulls his rifle from its scabbard, and slaps Traveller lightly to make him run in a direction out of the path of the shooter. Then Jess crouches low and runs toward the dark outlines of rocks until he reaches the base of the rocky slope where the shooter is hiding. .
The noise and disturbance below has alerted the shooter to Jess's position and the shooter fires again several times, giving Jess a good read on where he is holed up.
Jess is familiar with the rocks in this area – he and Slim had tracked another outlaw in a similar rock formation a few miles to the east. That outlaw had found a shallow cave and they had smoked him out.
Jess steps through the rocks, holding his rifle in one hand and steadying himself with the other. He keeps his eyes on the general area where he knows the shooter is positioned. The shooter fires blindly, trying to get return fire so he can determine Jess's location. The shooter's bullets hit the rocks above Jess.
The shooter has revealed his hiding place- a shallow little cave in the crook of several large rocks. Jess rips some dry brush out of the ground beside him and steps on it to make a tight bunch. He proceeds closer, skirting the rustler's position, ripping up another bunch of weeds as he goes. When he is about 20 feet from the rustler's hiding place he puts down the bunches of brush, then takes out a match, lights them and pitches them closer to the cave opening. The dry vegetation burns quickly and sets up an acrid cloud of smoke..
.
Jess waits, rifle ready.
Finally, the shooter bursts out from the little cave, running past the flaming brush, firing rapidly and wildly until he is out of bullets.
Jess steps out from behind the rocks, into the shooter's path and raises his rifle. "That's far enough, Mister. Drop the rifle."
The shooter stops, realizes he has no escape, throws down the rifle and raises his hands. He is a tall, slim man with a short black beard.
Jess is shocked as he comes face to face with a man he recognizes as Captain Ben Tanner. But Tanner had been killed by the Yankee patrol six years before. Tanner's dead, Jess tells himself, looking at the man in disbelief.
Then Jess remembers that the Yankees didn't stop to bury the corpse. No one saw the face of the dead soldier. The Confederates had just assumed it was Tanner.
Jess's mind races, recalling the events of that day. Sergeant Fitzgerald's body had been brought back to the Yankee commander. But there had been no trace of Private O'Brien. Was it his body that had lain in the undergrowth, Tanner's signature hat and goose feather conveniently placed by his ruined head.. So Tanner was a yellow coward, thinks Jess. Faked his death, likely deserted after that and now was the lowest form of thief in the west- a cattle rustler. Jess does not let on he recognizes the shooter. Not yet.
Tanner did not know the men in his command as he was newly appointed to the unit . If he had remembered Jess at all it would have been as a slim, clean shaven young recruit. He would not have recognized that boy in the tough, angry trailhand with 3 days growth of beard who now stood before him..
"What are you going to do with me?" the shooter asks, in a refined southern accent.
Jess gestures with the rifle for the shooter to start walking. "Takin you in. You can tell us where the rest o' your rustler friends are 'n where that stole herd's headin."
The man reacts with alarm. "No! You can't do that! This isn't what it seems. I'm not a rustler."
"No? Then why were firin on me?" says Jess skeptically.
"I was just trying to scare you off," says the shooter.
"I find you holed up in a rustlers' camp, a runnin iron by the fire, there's nobody else around for miles. If you ain't a rustler, what the hell're you doin out here?"says Jess.
"Working for the law…rustlers think I'm riding with them but I'm not.. I'm a detective… with Pinkerton's. I swear it! I" says the shooter.
"That so?" says Jess skeptically. "You got a badge or somethin?"
"I don't carry identification …can't risk the outlaws finding it.. I'm getting close to breaking this case… …it's a large operation…I store my notes in this cave…told the rustlers I had to come back for the runnin iron I left behind."
"Say you're a Pinkerton?" says Jess, struggling to contain the suspicion that is welling up inside.
"Yes, I've worked for them for years. If you get word to the Pinkerton office in Denver they'll confirm what I'm telling you," says the shooter.
Jess knows now what the voices in his dream were trying to tell him. Here was the traitor who had led them into ambush six years before and into a year of hell in the prison camp. The young officer they had followed into the woods that day was a Pinkerton, a Yankee spy.
"My name is Thomas Hunter," he continues.
"Not Ben Tanner?" says Jess, his blue eyes cold as ice..
.
"What?" says Hunter, shocked. "Who are you?" he says in a hoarse whisper.
Jess leans the rifle against a rock and lunges at Hunter, pushing him back roughly against the rock and pinning him there. He punches him in the midsection, then backhands him across the face. "I'll tell you who I am, Mr Pinkerton Detective. I'm Jess Harper- I spent a year in a Yankee prison camp after you led us into a Yankee trap…"
Jess releases him roughly, pushing him back against the rock. Then he steps back, picks up the rifle and points it at Hunter's head. "I oughta kill you right now."
Hunter has recovered from the shock of Jess's revelation and cooly says, "It was war, Harper. You telling me the South didn't have spies doing the same I did?"
Jess doesn't answer.
"Sure, you can kill me here 'n now. . But if you're one o' those ranchers driving that herd you might wish you hadn't," says Hunter. "These rustlers are no small time thieves. The same bunch is operating in Nebraska. I'm close to having the evidence I need to identify the ringleaders and who's buyin the cattle…if you kill me that evidence won't see the light of day …"
Jess is thinking of Slim and the others who had invested so much into this cattle drive. "How do I know you ain't just blowin smoke so's I'll turn you loose?."
"You don't," says Hunter. "But do you want to take that chance?"
Jess looks at Hunter for several long moments. Then he gestures with the rifle for him to move on. "Get goin," says Jess.
Jess watches him go, stepping quickly through the rocks. "This ain't over, Tanner" he vows.
Meanwhile, Slim and Duncan, anticipating another raid by the rustlers, have been deploying the men strategically around the herd. The usual nightwatch riders are in position, then additional men and Duncan's troopers, distributed in groups of three are also camped around the herd, ready to mount up when the rustlers strike. The men have been given supper and warned that there will be no sleep for any of them tonight.
All is quiet until well past midnight. Then a large group of riders approaches from direction of the creek. The intent of this raid is to trigger a full out stampede, to draw out the ranchers and their hands trying to control the herd, then kill or disable enough of them so that the herd cannot be reclaimed. Once they reach the herd the rustlers have planned to break into smaller groups and attack in several places.
As the rustlers approach near the back of the herd, the nightwatch riders closest to their path light torches and fire three shots signalling the direction of the attack. The nearby cattle become agitated and begin to run.
Several groups of reserve trailhands and troopers positioned closest to the back of herd mount and ride at full gallop I the direction of the shots and torches, converging on the rustlers. Surprised by the intensity of the counter attack, and disruption of their plan, the rustlers are thrown into confusion. Shouting orders and pointing most of the rustlers begin to gallop toward the front of the herd, only to encounter the same defensive tactic there, as the outriders are quickly reinforced by the groups of trailhands and soldiers who were waiting in reserve.
Hunter is riding with the rustlers on the raid to maintain his cover. With the first counterattack by the trailhands Hunter begins to gallop with the rest of rustlers toward the front of the herd. But his horse stumbles and he is thrown off. Before he can remount the horse regains its footing and bolts, leaving him afoot. He is far enough away from the stampeding cattle not to be in danger of being trampled. He looks around, hoping one of the other gang members will see him stranded and ride by to pick him up. But the other rustlers, surprised by the number of men and the firepower defending the herd, are making a hasty, disorganized retreat.
As he will not be able to return to the rustlers, Hunter realizes he will have to be satisfied with the evidence he has gathered so far. He hears riders approaching and shouting," There's one of em!"
Five trailhands, led by Joe Gallivan, surround him, guns drawn. "Get his gun, Tom," Gallivan orders. Tom Burnett, one of the trailhands, dismounts and approaches Hunter, who hands over his six shooter, offering no resistance.
"I need to see the men in charge," says Hunter calmly.
"Oh, you'll be doin that allright," says Gallivan , his tone threatening. He throws his lariat to Burnett. "Tie his hands. We'll run him back."
Hunter's hands are tied and Burnett hands the rope back to Galllivan who urges his horse forward at a quick trot. Hunter walks, then runs to keep up. Finally he falls to the ground and is dragged the rest of the way back to the camp.
Word has spread quickly that one of the rustlers has been caught. A number of the other trailhands and ranchers are gathered at the wagons and campsite, waiting for the captured rustler.
Gallivan and the others ride up, dragging Hunter on the ground. When they reach the camp they pick up Hunter roughly. He is covered in dust and there are tears in his clothing. He is unsteady on his feet despite being held up by two trailhands.
"We got one of 'em!" says one of the trailhands, triumphantly holding Hunter .
"Get a rope, boys," says Gallivan. There are shouts of approval for the idea throughout the crowd.
Hunter is manhandled onto a horsE, which is led to a large cottonwood tree. The ranchers and trailhands, several holding torches, noisily demand the rustler be strung up. .
Hunter's hands are tied behind his back, a rope is thrown over a sturdy tree branch and a noose is dropped over his head and tightened around his neck. The horse is fractious, nervously eyeing the fire of nearby torches.
Just then Slim and Duncan ride up. Slim fires his rifle into the air. "There'll be no lynchin!"
"This ain't a lyinchin, Sherman," says Gallivan. "This here's a cattle rustler .Law hangs rustlers."
"Only after a fair trial," says Slim.
"I'm not a rustler!" Hunter shouts over the noise of the crowd, his voice hoarse. "I'm a detective…working for Pinkerton's…. He's one of the ringleaders!" he says pointing to Gallivan.
"You listenin to this?" says Gallivan contemptuously. "How long you gonna let this liar run on?"
Jess, who had ridden some distance after the rustlers and has now returned, rides up beside Slim and Duncan..
Hunter spots Jess in the crowd.
.
"Harper! Tell them! You know who I am!" screams Hunter.
Jess does not answer. He fixes his cold blue gaze on Hunter.
"Ain't surprised Harper'd know him," says Gallivan. "You ride with him fore you went legal with Sherman? You back on the other side now?"
"Shut up, Gallivan!" says Slim angrily. Slim looks at Jess. "Jess- do you know him? "
Jess says nothing. He is thinking of the horror of the prison camp - the starvation, the filth, the brutality- and of how many of the men died .Died because of this man's treachery and betrayal. Hunter the Pinkerton would never answer for those deaths. But Tanner the Yankee spy could answer for them here, and now.
"Harper! For the love of God, tell them who I am – you know I'm no rustler!" pleads Hunter.
"Jess!" says Slim urgently, his expression demanding the truth, demanding that Jess meet the standard of honour that Slim lived by..
Jess knows Slim could never condone such dark vengeance as allowing Hunter to be lynched to pay for his actions in the war.
"Get on with it", says Gallivan impatiently, trying to egg on others in the crowd.
The noose is tightened around Hunter's neck. The horse shifts about, growing increasingly nervous.
" Wait!," says Jess finally. "He's tellin the truth. He's a Pinkerton."
"How do you know this, Harper?" asks Duncan.
"The war," says Jess. "He was passin himself off as a southern officer… but he was a Pinkerton … a Yankee spy… led us into ambush… ….we spent a year in a stinkin hole of a prison camp…most o' the boys didn't make it out alive…. "
The noisy mob is now quiet.
Before anyone can move to free Hunter a shout is heard. "Damn you to hell! My brother died in that camp!"
Cole James runs up and slaps the horse, which launches forward. Hunter is hoisted out of the saddle, his neck snaps as the horse runs out from under him..
"Sweet Jesus!" swears a trailhand standing nearby.
The mob watch in horror as Hunter dangles in the air, his body jerking and twitching. Some look away from the gruesome sight. Some remove their hats.
Jess Harper does not look away.
As Hunter is lynched, Gallivan sees his chance and quickly drifts through the stunned, disorganized crowd. He begins to run once he clears the bunched up men. .
"Gallivan's gettin away!' says a rancher, pointing in the direction Gallivan has taken away from the lynching site.
The men realize if Hunter really was a Pinkerton, his accusation of Gallivan as a ringleader of the rustlers must be valid.
The men, including Jess, follow the direction taken by Gallivan into the darkness.
Duncan is about to follow them when Slim says," he'll head back to Farrell's wagon for his horse and money and what supplies he can grab. It's shorter this way " Slim picks up one of the torches that has been stuck into the ground and leads Duncan back to Farrell's campsite.
Slim and Duncan arrive at Farrell's wagon soon after Gallivan. He is holding a gun on Morgan, demanding money and ordering Sally to fill a sack with travelling supplies.
Morgan has retrieved a small metal strongbox from the wagon and opened it – it is full of gold coins. He begins to fill a small canvas bag with the money while Sally looks through the supplies stacked outside the wagon for food items that can be easily carried.
Gallivan sees Slim and Duncan approaching. He grabs Sally roughly, and holds his gun to her head.
Morgan pulls a derringer from his coat. He raises it to shoot but Gallivan sees it and shoots Morgan first . Morgan clutches his side and falls to the ground, a red stain spreading quickly across his shirt .
"Pa!" screams Sally, struggling against Gallivan, who holds her more tightly, realizing she is his only insurance to get away.
"Soldier boy- you finish loadin that money" says Gallivan to Duncan. "Sherman, bring that horse over here!" Gallivan's horse is saddled and tied to a tree branch a short distance from Slim. "And don't try anythin or I'll shoot her."
Duncan and Slim exchange one quick glance. Duncan is about to pour the last remaining coins into the bag from the strongbox.. He drops strongbox onto the rocks at his feet – the coins spill out and strike the ground.
The distraction is enough for Gallivan to turn his head for a moment toward Duncan and take his eyes off Slim. Slim draws his gun and fires, hitting Gallivan in the top of the head.
Sally screams as blood and gore spray over her. She wrenches away from Gallivan as he falls dead to the ground.
Duncan goes to where Morgan Farrell lies on the ground, unconscious. He removes his large yellow army neckerchief and presses it against Farrell's side.
"Pa!": cries Sally, kneeling by her father. "I'm sorry Pa! I'm sorry…"
"He's alive," says Duncan. "But it's bad."
The rest of the would - be lynch mob arrive at the Farrell camp, along with the troopers who have come on the drive with Duncan.
Duncan gestures to one of the troopers. "Captain Burns, this is man is badly wounded. He'll need your assistance. Two of you men move him into the wagon." He gently helps Sally to her feet. "Captain Burns is a surgeon, Miss. He'll tend to your father."
Jess walks up to Slim and Duncan.
"Least now we know who the inside man was," says Slim. "But with Hunter gone we're never gonna know who Gallivan was workin with."
Jess remembers what Hunter had told him about his reports.
"I might be able to find somethin…,' says Jess. "I caught up to Hunter hidin out in some rocks not far from here…I was gonna bring him in but he said he was close to figurin out who the rustlers were workin with. He said he was leavin reports there."
"You knew then he was the man who betrayed you in the war," says Duncan thoughtfully.
"Yeah," says Jess.
Jess turns to Slim. "I think I can find that cave again 'n be back in a couple o' hours."
"We'll get the herd gathered and settled. Get back soon as you can," says Slim.
Jess rides back to the rocks and the shallow cave where he had found Hunter. It is getting onto first light but the cave is still dark. He feels along the rock walls until he touches something between two rocks and pulls out a leather bound packet. He opens it and looks at it quickly. He has found what he's looking for.
Jess rides back to the encampment, finds Slim and Duncan outside Slim's wagon. He hands the packet to Slim. "It's all here."
Slim takes out the pages, giving some to Duncan.
Hunter's report names several ranchers who had recently moved into the territory with brands that easily incorporated stolen brands. Several out of territory cattle buyers were implicated, and also named were members of the outlaw gang from Nebraska.
"Outrageous!" says Duncan in disgust, reading the names of two senior army officers involved in diverting beef from the native reservations for which it had been purchased, and resold in Canada.
Over the next hours the herd is gathered, settled and rested. The drive resumes the next day and continues without incident to the designated markets.
In the following days and weeks many of the rustlers are tracked down. Some name who they are working for and provide valuable information about the gang's members and organization, in order to escape prosecution. Some rustlers and ringleaders elude capture and find their way to Canada. But the chief organizers of the rustling operation, the cattle buyers who contracted to receive the stolen cattle, and the corrupt military men involved in diverting the cattle supplies of the native reservations are all brought to justice.
Big Boy Randall and Eddiie Calder admitted that they had been awakened while neglecting their duty on nightwatch and seen Gallivan setting the fire the night of the first stampede. He told them he would find them and kill them both if they reported him so they had cast suspicion on Jess instead.
A few days later Slim, Jess and Jonesy arrive back at the ranch just as Andy and one of the Brown twins are changing the team of the afternoon stage.
"Slim! Jess! Jonesy!" says And, running to meet them..
"Hey Tiger!" says Jess, smiling "See the place is still standin."
"Andy he'd done a hell of a job while you was all takin it easy babysittin cows," says Mose. "The three o' you couldn't of done no better…".
"Good to hear," says Slim. Slim dismounts and goes over to the chuckwagon. "Andy, can you give me a hand unloadin these supplies." Slim climbs up into the wagon.
"Aw Slimmm! You only just got back. Can't it wait?" says Andy.
"No, now get over here," says Slim sternly.
Andy goes over to where Slim is standing in the back of the wagon, holding a new black saddle, decorated with finely tooled leather - the one Andy admires every time he goes into the General Store livery section.
Slim hands the saddle down to Andy. "Your birthday's not for a couple more months but Jess, Jonesy 'n me figured you'd as soon have it now."
The next day Sally Farrell is waiting for the morning stage at the stage stop in Laramie. She is dressed in a stylish travelling frock, her blonde hair swept up under her matching bonnet.
"Mornin', Miss Farrell," says Slim, walking up beside her.
"Slim," says Sally, looking at him briefly, then quickly away in the direction the stage will arrive.
"Goin somewhere?" says Slim.
"Cheyenne first, then maybe Denver," says Sally. "I don't know- just away from here."
"Your Pa doesn't want you to go," says Slim. "He asked me to bring you back."
"How can I go back after… …." says Sally..
"He needs you," says Slim.
"Ma Bailey said she'd look after him, get his meals…" says Sally.
"He doesn't need another nursemaid or housekeeper. He needs you, to help run the ranch," says Slim.
"He said that?" asks Sally. "Knowing what I… what we…."
"It wasn't your fault.. You didn't know about Gallivan…" begins Slim.
"I knew Joe was giving him liquor, letting him gamble. That's where those missing cattle went on our inventory…Joe got him into a poker game just before the drive started. He bet 50 head…and lost. Joe was in on it. He and the trail hand that beat Pa split what they got for the cows."
" But I know now what he really wanted was the ranch….he knew he'd have to use me to get it." continues Sally. "He asked Pa if he could court me… Pa laughed at him, said I wasn't for the likes o' hm. I was a lady and was going to make a fine match."
"Then why…" Slim begins.
" I wanted to hurt Pa- to get even for how he hurt Mother…she begged him to stop drinking… she worried he was he was going to lose the ranch gambling…I thought I could hurt him by disappointing him…what lady would be with a man like Joe Gallivan?"
"We don't always see things clear in those situations," says Slim.
"I knew he was no good, and I didn't care. But I didn't know about the rustling, Slim. I swear I didn't," says Sally.
"I believe you," says Slim. "You made a mistake, Sally. And now you have the chance to put it right. If you don't you'll be runnin for the rest of your life. Come back with me. Your Pa was a big help to my folks – I'd like the chance to return the favour."
The stage pulls up. Mose is driving. He climbs down and picks up Sally's bags. "Mornin Slim! This lady the only passenger?"
"I think she's changin her mind bout leavin,' says Slim.
Sally looks at Slim's calm blue eyes, and quiet, encouraging smile. Here was strength and decency and friendship and a chance to make a new start..
Sally takes her hatbox from Mose. "I think I'll stay a while longer," she says.
Mose drops the rest of her baggage. "Wish you people'd make up yer minds…I got a skedyool to keep!" He climbs back into the driver's seat and slaps the reins. The stage moves out and away down Main St.
Sally watches it thoughtfully for a few moments, then turns back to Slim.
Slim offers his arm. "Miss Farrell?" They walk to the buckboard Slim has waiting . Slim helps Sally up onto the bench and drives her back to her father's ranch.
It is now about noon and Jess is coming out of the barn as Major Duncan and young trooper Talbot ride up to the ranch house. They dismount and tie their horses. Duncan has come to conclude some business related to the cattle drive with Slim.
Trooper Talbot walks up to the door quickly, removing his hat as he knocks. Andy opens the door and invites him in.
Duncan sees Jess coming out of the barn and lingers by his horse, appearing to look for something in the saddlebags. .
Jess walks up to the door slowly, hoping to avoid Duncan but the Major appears to be waiting for him.
"Mr Harper," says Duncan.
"Major," says Jess curtly.
Andy opens the door and calls outside.. "Jonesy wants you two at the table right now."
"That's an order if I ever heard one," says Duncan, smiling.
"Jonesy don't like it when the food gits cold," says Jess.
They begin to walk up the steps, then Duncan stops. Duncan recognized in Cole James' lynching of Hunter the depth of hatred he still held about his own brother's death in Andersonville and where that hatred might lead him.
"Harper, I think Slim Sherman was right- perhaps it's time to lay the past to rest and work together to build this new territory," says Duncan..
"Slim's always right," says Jess. "Leastwise to hear him tell it, he is."
Jess and Duncan walk in together and join the others at table.
"Them sure is good biscuits, Mr Jonesy," says Talbot, helping himself to two more..
"I'll bet Jonesy's biscuits are worth a dollar a piece," says Jess, glancing at Slim.
"At least," says Slim, trying not to laugh. The story about how Martin and Ford peddled Joney's biscuits to Big Boy Randall had quickly circulated around the cattle camp, heard by everyone it seems, but Jonesy.
Jonsey raises his chin in pride as he approaches the table with two pies. "Looks like people're finally appreciatin the worth o' what I do round here!"
THE END