Chapter 11

Could these three men really be lawmen? If not, then why else would they be wearing badges on their shirts? Grace continued to eye the saloon doors swinging after the men had seriously entered. Maybe they're here to put a stop to the Yeller Gang's ruthless crimes.

She moved halfway up the porch to have a better look when she noticed that Tuck darted off into the street chasing and barking at a cat. There was no need to worry about him. It was not worth watching or hearing him crash into people and knocking over objects.

"Listen up folks!" the tallest of the men shouted to the crowd inside the saloon. The music and dancing had stopped playing to hear what he had to say. "We got word from the telegraph that a group of five outlaws, better referred to as the Yeller Gang is on the loose and has already terrorized a town and robbed a bank not too long ago." The middle man stepped up to continue the details.

"In other words, they may be hidin' out somewhere in this town or elsewhere close by. If any of you folks see somethin' suspicious happenin', come to the sheriff's office right away!"

"The Yeller Gang?" a plump woman long blue dress rose up from her chair. "Who are they?"

"We don't know miss, but as lawmen, it is our duty to protect this town and the citizens." Then the third man stepped forward to pass around a few WANTED posters to a couple of the smoking cowpokes sitting at a few tables.

"This is the description of the bad men; we are always at the office if ya'll need to report any unusual activity," he replied as he handed the last few papers to the dancers and piano player.

Everyone in the saloon went back to their daily routine after the lawmen walked out through the swinging doors. With the piano playing, the leader of the gang stared down at his beer bottle in worry and slammed his fist on the wooden counter.

"Great!" he whispered so that he wouldn't be attracting anybody's attention. It seemed that the law here was now already on to them. Then he whispered urgently to his comrades. "Listen up, the lawmen already know about us. So whatever happens, play it cool."

"We ought to leave before we're recognized," one bandit whispered.

"Why leave right away?" replied the leader. "Any one of these folks could be a crook in disguise. Yet they're all playin' it cool."

"Perhaps the sheriff who had paid a visit to my house sent them that message," Lewis murmured staring down at the counter. "I reckon he and his men are still on our trail." Then he took a few gulps from his beer bottle. "I hope he hasn't told them about my calf."

"If he has, then those men would have mentioned it while they were in here," the leader debated then took a gulp of the beer. "Besides we'll just say that the calf was a wanderer lookin' for a home to stay in."

"Ya know what partner," Lewis began with a sly broad grin. "You're a genius." Perhaps they could still get away with hiding from the law.

"Don't mention it," the leader responded sneering back.

In the law enforcement office

"Say, did any o' you notice how those five men at the booth weren't lookin' in our direction when we was handin' out them papers?" the tallest ranger spoke up as he was nailing the WANTED poster of the Yeller Gang on the wall.

"Ever seen a whole bunch o' strangers wearin' black before?" the middle ranger bantered. "Now that you've mentioned it, I did notice that another strange man sat next to them at the stool. What else did the telegraph say?"

"Well it said that the five men may be prowlin' about the valley with a round male fugitive. And that they have a young golden calf with them."

"Oh you mean like the one tied to the…?" the men stared at each other for a moment then burst out of the office to find the calf missing from the spot. To their right, Lewis was now leading Grace down to where the barber shop stood.

"You two check out the saloon while I handle that ruffian there," the tallest lawmen ordered as the two nodded and walked back in the saloon to have a serious talk with those black strangers. "Hey you, stop right there!" Lewis stopped dead in his tracks when the lawman approached behind him.

"What is it deputy?" Lewis asked in an irritated tone as he turned to face him. "I don't have time to be dealin' with questions you want answered."

"Just one question partner," the lawman replied crossing his arms with a serious look on his face which meant business. "Is that your calf?"

Grace took one look at her "owner" then at the lawman. She had not expected this man to ask a question about her.

"Now what kind o' question is that to ask?" Lewis spat tugging on the halter when he noticed that Grace was attempting to sneak off. Then he decided to come up with a lie. "See how it's been walkin'? The poor thing was out wanderin' all alone in the scorchin' desert with no food or water." Grace stared up at Lewis with an incredulous expression. "Then I saw it bein' chased by hungry coyotes so I had to run in and save it." Then he stroked back a few hairs from the calf's hide to reveal the cuts made from the whippings she had been given. "Take a look at these if ya don't believe me. If I hadn't shown up, them nasty ol' vermin might have finished her off by now." Right now, Grace felt her head burn from hearing Lewis tell a string of lies. She knew that she had received these scars from his abuse and not from coyotes. Hopefully this lawman was not close to believing everything Lewis said.

The lawman feeling unsure about Lewis's words lowered his head to gaze directly at the scars on the calf's back. For him, it was almost hard to tell if they were really claw marks since most of the scars were sprawled in different directions. Claw marks were usually lined straight together. These look more like cuts made from a riding crop or a whip! He thought suspiciously.

"Alright partner," he announced rising up. "I think you better come with me to have a talk in my office. I have somethin' else I'd like to show ya."

Before Lewis could think about not cooperating, he didn't look or notice Grace raise her front feet up and jam them roughly onto his feet as hard as she could.

"Ahh, oh, ouch my foot!" he cried in pain hopping on his left foot while holding onto his right where Grace had stomped on. This gave Grace a chance to make a run for it down the streets without turning back. Lewis's teeth pulled up in a snarl when he saw what she had done. "Why you mangy bovine, I'll get you for this!" he shouted while still hopping.

The lawman stared at Lewis in bewilderment from hearing him say that to a baby animal. He sure didn't sound like he wanted to help her at all. Now it was more the other way around. But that wasn't the only thing bothering him; a loud crash had exploded from the saloon. The lawman whirled around to find the gang leader storm out with his face half covered and a pistol in hand.

"Don't anybody even try to follow us!" he warned as he pointed his pistol straight at the saloon entrance.

"Stop right there you!" the lawman commanded with his hand held up in front of the dastardly bandit. "Where do you think you're goin'…" his hand reached for the bandana covering his mouth, "Scar Face Sam?" He finished after removing it.

"How did you know?" the leader exploded stepping back in shock from having his true identity discovered.

"I recognize that dreadful scar when I see it," replied the lawman. "You're the same bandit responsible for all the bank robberies and town shootings from long ago. I should've known. Now I think it's time for you to be put behind bars."

Scar Face Sam stared madly at the lawman with a sly grin. Neither he nor his comrades were the type of criminals to give up that easily. So what if his identity had been revealed? Turning his back slowly, he grabbed hold of the lawman's right arm and swung him over his shoulder sending him crashing into a pile of barrels.

"Let's blow this joint!"

Somewhere in town

Grace galloped in fear down the streets of town panting and huffing. She ran like she never ran before in her life with her mind only set on trying to get as far away from Lewis and those bandits as possible. Deep inside, she almost didn't care if she might end up living on the streets of a different town or in the wilderness. Anyplace was better than being held by thieves and an abusive owner with a terrible attitude.

All around her, the townspeople were running around in a panic or taking cover in the buildings or ducking because of the fact that a few men in dark clothing were now riding atop their horses shooting their bullets through windows. Seeing this, Grace panicked and tried to search for a place to take cover. One woman had shoved her aside screaming which caused Grace to bump her head against the wall of a building. The force of this hit caused her vision to turn a bit fuzzy. Her head ached terribly as she was close to fainting upon the dusty highway.

In the next moment, Grace could hear the clapping of running hooves approaching her direction and a hand seize her by the scruff of her neck, and then cover her mouth. Sam, the gang leader had caught her up ahead and reached down to swing her over his saddlebow while riding atop his black steed. Her vision soon returned and Grace found that she was being held a few feet above ground as the thundering of hoof beats still shook the ground and echoed in her chest. The frightened calf wanted to jump off and run away, but even kicking and struggling seemed useless at this point. Even if she tried to do so, she'd be injured or killed on the narrow dusty highway. There was no escape from the clutches of these terrible bandits.

Author's note: Yes; it's been a long time since I updated this story because of me being distracted by my Halloween and Christmas fanfic. But now that they're finished, I can go back to working on this one. I hope to get it done by the end of spring.