TWO
Vernon Coe had been the telegraph man in Yellow River for five years. During that time he had gained a fair amount of knowledge about most of the town's residents. Coe had found this information usually proved valuable sooner or later. He kept the town's secrets for a price, a free drink at the saloon, or a slice of pie with his dinner at the Tasty Bite Cafe. There were countless ways the grateful citizens of Yellow River remunerated his silence.
Harland Scharpf sat on his front porch enjoying the slight breeze of early evening and reading a book of Shakespearian sonnets. He read the poetry aloud enjoying the combination of the words and the melodious sing-song of his own voice.
The sound of horse and rider distracted him from his reading. Scharpf glanced up from his book to see Coe approach. Dismounting and tying his elderly mare to the hitching post, he warily approached the rancher. Scharpf didn't acknowledge his visitor. Taking timeinstead to choose a cheroot from a finely crafted box that sat beside his chair. He lit the cigar before looking up.
Coe knew Scharpf's routine and stood in front of him nervously twirling his hat in his hands, waiting until such time as Scharpf decided to speak to him. Displaying mild curiosity, Scharpf finally asked, "Well, Mr. Coe, have you come to give me some information?"
"Ah yes, Mr. Scharpf sir." He replied nervously. "I thought you might be interested in this here." With his hand shaking slightly he handed him Matt's handwritten message. Scharpf took the paper and read it. "Whom did this come from?" he asked.
"That Smith feller, the one you told me to be on the look out fer."
"MD... why would he sign as MD . . . and why would he be sending a telegraph to the Dodge City Marshal's Office resigning. This is very interesting Mr. Coe, very interesting indeed. I appreciate your effort, and I would urge you to keep up the good work." He reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat and pulled out a roll of bills. He slipped two from the fold and handed them to Coe. "Thank you again Mr. Coe." He said.
It was the next morning before Scharpf had a chance to ask Elliott Hoppe what he thought about the note. Hoppe starred at the writing, squinting to read the message clearly. "What do you make of it Elliott?" Scharpf asked.
"I guess I wouldn't think nothin of it, `ceptin, Clayborn said something about him thinkin that Smith was Matt Dillon, I toldt him he was crazy. But ... this kinda makes it not seem so crazy afterall."
Scharpf nodded his head, "Smith is Matt Dillon." He absent-mindedly fingered the end of his moustache. "Hmmmm, it seems I haveunderestimated our adversary."
He walked away from his foreman. "Matt Dillon," he thought, "who would have figured a US Marshal would end up here in the Yellow River Valley." Thinking over the tactics he'd employed in the past, he could come up with nothing the law could pin on him. Nothing they had any proof of anyway. There were no witnesses to the Stambridge murder. Kitty Stambridge hadn't seen a thing, he was sure of that.
As for his other dealings, he'd had the railroad under his control for over a year now. The owner of the spur line was indebted to Scharpf for numerous favors. He had been only too willing to charge the small ranchers exorbitant rates to ship their cattle. A small snigger escaped Scharpf's lips as he thought, "they wouldn't befoolish enough to attempt to drive the cattle overland, not with the terrain and the heat of summer just beginning."
"No," he thought, "Matt Smith or Matt Dillon, it doesn't matter, because, I've got Mrs. Stambridge right where I want her, at least for the time being. When the ninety days are up she will be forced to give up her ranch. Maybe she'll think twice about whose bed she wants to share then."
Doc Adams made his way slowly down his office stairs, taking care not to miss a step. It was mornings that he felt his age the most. His body stiffened up over night, making movement painful and awkward. He glanced up and down the street trying to decide which he needed most, an eye-opener from Miss Hannah's special stock at the Long Branch, or the breakfast special from Delmonico's. Deciding that even though he had cut down his practice considerably since the new doctor had come to town, he still had an image to keep up. The restaurant was the wiser choice.
He'd been feeling depressed of late. It seemed to him a man should have some family around to comfort him in his old age. His `family' was scattered to the wind. The beginning of the end had come when Kitty left town to join up with Stambridge. Everyone had been concerned with how Matt would take it. How would he handle a future without Kitty? No one had given thought to how Doc would handle the future without Kitty. Like a daughter to him in many ways, she was the dearest friend he had on earth. She was one person he could always count on. The sharp redhead had a way of getting at the heartof a matter and then turning it inside out so that the good shown through. Without her gentle humor to soften him, the old man became gruffer and spoke more often with a hard edge.
People remarked that Adams was certainly showing his age, `the cantankerous old coot.' The call went out for a new doctor, and one had arrived six weeks earlier. The new physician was a likable man, who respected Adams long-standing position in the community. His presence had relieved Doc of a good deal of the burden of his practice giving the elderly doctor too much time to think and remember.
The old man heard a familiar sound behind him, the jingle of Texas spurs and half hum and toot that signaled the approach of Festus Hagen. Doc quickened his pace hoping to evade the deputy.
"Doc, you ol' scutter wait up, I gots som'thin to tell ya."
Stopping just long enough to castigate the hillbilly, Adams groused. "You're just after a free breakfast, and I'm not buying."
"I dun had me breakfast two hours ago. Listen here Doc; Newly got a letter from Matthew. It says him'n Miss Kitty are gonna get hitched. Newly wants you to go on over to the Marshal's office so's you can read it. your ownself."
A smile spread over the old man's features like sunshine on a summer morning. His step became lighter and faster and Festus had to walk double time to keep up with him.
The map when spread out, measured 3 feet by 5. It hung in the Stambridge study on a wall near the desk. The diverse assembly of men who had volunteered to go on the cattle drive had joined Matt and Seamus that afternoon.
Smoking a hand rolled cigarette, and leaning against the wall stood Slim Manley. In his late 30s, Manley had left a wife in Iowa, seeking his fortune in the West. Working hard, he had built a good life for the two of them, but when he sent for her she had refused to come. She 'd told him that the Wild West was no place to raise a family. It had left him a bitter and lonely man.
Fred Roth had a large family of sons and a sizable ranch. He was no longer young, but he went about life with sense of excitement and good humor. He looked on the cattle drive as a new adventure. Harry, his second oldest son shared his enthusiasm.
Carl Hermann, and his sons George and Willie had emigrated from Germany ten years earlier. Through hard work and a simple life they had made their ranch a home. Their land was the most important thing in the world to them and they were prepared to do anything they needed to protect it.
Burt Krause and Lou Oestreich had been friends for as long as either could remember. They had traveled west from Indiana seeking adventure and fortune. Spending their first few years in the goldfields, they had eventually settled in Yellow River. The thought of one going on the cattle drive and one staying home never occurred to them. They were in this together. The pair had struck a deal with a neighbor who volunteered to watch after their spread if theywould add his 100 head to the herd.
Johnny Yoman stood off to the side of the group, his eyes fixed on the map, trying to study the course that had been plotted, but his mind kept wandering. Unlike the rest of the men in the room, he was just a hired hand. He couldn't help but wonder at the position that placed him in.
"There be some rough trail ahead, Matthew." Seamus said, shaking his head. "Be easier for sure, if we had more men.
"Matt glanced around the room, taking stock of the group. They were good men, hard workers who would work harder still because they had a stake in the outcome of this cattle drive. The success of this venture would determine their future and their children's futures. "I've got some friends in Dodge, If I can get word to them, they would help us for the last leg of the trip.
"By unanimous decision, Seamus had been elected as the trailboss. "We'll be needing all the help we can get by then. I've been on a few of these cattle drives, course I was much younger then, but I be telling you, it is going to take all we got and then some to get this herd to Dodge City."
He turned to face the group, "I want you men to move your cattle to the East range of the ranch. It's best to keep this all as quiet as we can, so Scharpf is none the wiser to what we have planned. When they're assembled, we will set up road branding them."
Kitty had been standing off to the side, trying not to interfere, but unable to resist asking, "They're already branded aren't theySeamus? Wouldn't that be a waste of time?"
"Takes but a few days Miss Kitty, but it marks them as belonging to a single legitimate trail herd, rather than a herd of rustled strays."
Speaking to the group, but for her benefit he said, "We should take another ten days to ride the herd until they're trail broke. A green herd is prone to scatter, they break off in bunches. More likely to stampede too, but I'm thinking we'll be doing our `breaking in' on the trail to Dodge."
"I want each of you to pick out not less than five of your finest cowponies. I don't need telling any of you that a trail drive is hard on a horse. Three - four hours is tops for a horse before it's time to change mounts. Johnny, I'm making you wrangler, you'll be incharge of the remuda." A look of panic crossed Yoman's face that made Seamus smile. "Don't you worry none son, I'll be showing you what's expected of you."
"Matthew, I'm thinking you and Slim will ride point. Swingmen will be Lou and Burt, and Fred and Harry. Carl, George and Willie, you three will ride flank and drag. I guess that about does it for now."
Molly standing at Kitty's side finally spoke up, "Seamus, seems tome you be forgetting one very important thing."
Mulgrew frowned at his wife. "Molly I'll be thanking you to keep your pretty nose out of what doesn't concern you."
Molly looked at Kitty who shrugged her shoulders in return and then fired at her husband, "Seamus Mulgrew, just who is going to feed these men when they've finished with their pointing and flanking and dragging."
A red flush started creeping up his face as Seamus realized he hadn't given much thought to the chuck wagon and cook. "Well of course Molly, we be needing to outfit a wagon, I reckon we can take turns with the cooking." Mulgrew narrowed his eyes at the two women. What did they think they were doing, undermining his authority in front ofhis men? "Perhaps you ladies would be so kind as to be bringing us a bit of coffee." He requested, forcing his voice to remain smooth.
"Come on Molly." Kitty whispered, "We've been dismissed.
"Grabbing her apron from its peg inside the kitchen door, Molly grumbled. "I was just trying to help, you know as well as I that he hadn't given a thought to that chuck wagon." Coffee cups rattled on their tray as she placed it on the kitchen table with a bit more force than necessary. She was fuming. "The nerve of him, telling you what to do Miss Kitty. I'm thinking his being the trail boss hasgone to his head."
Kitty measured the coffee and placed it in the pot. "Molly, it's alright." Setting the pot on the stove she added. "They've got a lot to work out." She kept her back to Molly. An idea was forming in her mind, but she wasn't quite ready to share it.
"This is dangerous business." Molly's anger had been replaced by worry. "Someone is going to get hurt or worse. Even one more man, t'would make a difference."
It was late, the sun had set hours ago, but only Katie was sleeping at the Stambridge ranch. Matt and Seamus were in deep discussion at the kitchen table. Maps, ledger forms and lists littered the table. Kitty came up from behind and silently refilled their coffeecups. She stepped back to stand with Molly by the stove. Her earlier idea had taken root and had grown to a full and detailed plan. But, like the poker player she was, she was waiting until all the cards had been played before making her move.
Seamus finally said. "It's that damn chuck wagon! That's what's causing all the trouble. We can't afford to pull anyone away from the herd."
"What if one of us were to go?" Kitty asked, finally making her play. They didn't seem to hear her, so she repeated her question, louder this time, "What if Molly or I were to go along?"
Seamus looked up at her over the rim of his coffee cup, considering the sincerity of her question. Putting the cup back in its saucer he answered "Molly can't ride, and is not much good around animals, and I don't reckon she'd be knowing how to cook without her cook stove. And you, if I may be so bold as to remind you, have a young daughter who needs her ma."
"Matt watched the exchange as an uneasy feeling took hold in the pit of his stomach. He knew the look coming to Kitty's eyes. A battle was brewing.
Drawing her frame up to her full height, with her hands on her hips, Kitty declared, "I can ride as well as most. I've handled a team or two, and I have no trouble opening a can of beans and heating them over an open fire. And, I've years of experience waiting on cowboys."
"Matthew won't put you in that kind of danger and neither will I."Seamus stated.
"Matt can't tell me what to do nor can you Seamus Mulgrew. This is still my place and those are my cattle." She stomped her foot for emphasis, "No one is going to tell me what I can and can't do."
Matt pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. Using his height to its full advantage he smiled down and tried to appeal to her sense of propriety. "Kitty, Seamus and I appreciate your offer, but it just won't work. A cattle drive is no place for a lady.
"Her blue eyes narrowed to slits as cold as ice as she stared up into his. "I've been in a lot of places in my life that weren't fit for a lady. I've survived."
Twenty years with this woman, and he still didn't know how to handle her when she got like this. "Now Kitty, don't get all bull headed on me."
She wasn't at all intimidated by his height, as she stood toe to toe with him shaking her finger at his face. "I'm going on that cattle drive Matt Dillon."
His temper usually slow to burn where she was concerned was heating up. "We're going to have enough to worry about with 3000 head of cattle, without having you to worry about too!"
Seamus tried stepping in, keeping his voice smooth as Irish whiskey. "Now, Miss Kitty, you wouldn't be leaving Molly here at the ranch all alone with little Katie? It just wouldn't be safe, what with Scharpf's men and all."
This was better than finding an ace in the hole. "Oh! So, you think I can protect Molly and Katie from Scharpf's hired guns, butyou don't think I can drive a chuck wagon and serve coffee and beans."
"But, well . . . that's not what I was meaning..." Seamus looked in Dillon's direction for help. Matt winced. He had none to give. Kitty was picking up steam. Soon there would be no stopping her.
"And for your information Mr. Mulgrew, I've given that some thought. I think Molly and Katie should move in with Doc and Mrs. Tucker until we get back. Ray Moser's just a few miles down the road. He can check in on the ranch house from time to time, since he can't help with the cattle drive."
There was only one way he could think of to derail her. Matt raised his eyebrows in Mulgrew's direction, trying to wordlessly relay his intent. Turning to Kitty he offered, "Alright, suppose we give it a try, you ride out with us when we start road branding, we'll see how you do."