Rawhide

Incident of the Sterling Fox

Chapter 4

Rowdy Yates slowly came back to consciousness. His head was pounding and his left shoulder ached terribly. He cautiously opened his eyes and suddenly he was blinded by a bright light beside him. The ramrod blinked his eyes a few times waiting for them to adjust. He was lying in a bed in a small room. Beside the bed was a nightstand with a pitcher, a basin of water, a towel, and a lamp. What happened? A look of confusion passed over his face, then suddenly he remembered. He had been at the post office about to mail some letters then these men had busted in and robbed the bank. He had been shot. Rowdy reached up and felt his head. It was now bandaged, as was his shoulder. Fox! What happened to him? Rowdy panicked and tried to sit up. He cried out as an inconceivable pain shot through his shoulder.

The noise Rowdy had created brought the doctor's attention to the young man's room. Getting up from his desk, he scooted back his chair and hurried toward Rowdy's room. He opened the door to see his patient struggling in vain to sit up.

"Now, now there, young man. You must lie still." The doctor gently pushed Yates back down. "You had us worried, Mr. Yates. You were out for quite a while there. Your two friends went back to your herd to get your boss."

The doctor was a middle-aged man in his late forties Rowdy guessed. His thinning brown hair was beginning to gray on the sides. He had a kind expression on his face that made the young ramrod feel at ease.

Rowdy looked around, confused. "Where am I?"

"You're at my office. I'm Mark Dixon, the doctor here in Sterling Gap." The doctor replied kindly. "How do you feel?"

"My head feels like someone's been dancing a jig on it, and my shoulder's kinda sore." Rowdy's face was etched with pain as the pounding in his head became worse. The pain was suddenly all he could think of. Fox was gone from his mind for the present.

"I've done all I can for you at the moment. The best thing for you would be sleep and lots of rest." Glancing at the water pitcher on the nightstand, Dr. Dixon asked, "Would you like a glass of water maybe?"

"No, but thanks anyway, Doc." Rowdy replied weakly.

"Alright, but if there's anything you need, you just let me know, son. I'll be in my office, it's just outside your room, so just call for me." The doctor opened the door.

Rowdy nodded slightly it was the best he could do with his head throbbing the way it was. Dixon left the room, and Rowdy was once again alone. He sighed wearily and settled back into the soft, lush pillow. The sound of hoof beats on the street and the crickets outside his window finally lulled the ramrod into a deep sleep. Not even the opening of his door and the entering of Gil Favor awakened him.

The trail boss settled into a chair at Rowdy's bedside. He looked on as his ramrod slept, his breathing even. The doctor had told him what had happened in more details than Wishbone had been able to provide. Dixon had gotten the information from the postmaster who had witnessed it all. The Holt Gang was in town and the bank had done its best to prepare in case the gang struck. But the sheriff had only stepped out the back way for a moment when one of the men had come up from behind and struck him on the head with his gun butt. Rowdy had been mailing the letters when Bryan, Seth, and Cameron Holt had busted in.

The postmaster said that the hot-headed ramrod drew on Cameron and Cameron had shot him. Rowdy did get one of his marks though. The youngest Holt brother, Cameron, had gotten a slug in the shoulder. In sheer anger he had shot Rowdy again even though the ramrod had already fallen. Their cohort, Carl Gleason, was waiting outside with fresh horses. One of them being Fox. He's sure gonna take it hard when he finds out they took Fox, Favor thought miserably.

Gil Favor knew how much Rowdy's horse meant to him. When the time had come for Fox to be broke, Rowdy had volunteered and had won the horse over like no other way the trail boss had ever seen before. There had been no bucking, no twisting or trying to throw the rider. Fox had walked up to Rowdy as if he to say he had picked the ramrod. Fox was a sly one though. Every once in a while he would keep Rowdy on his toes by crow hopping a little when they were on the trail or taking a big breath of air and holding it while Rowdy tightened the cinch, then when they were about to set off Fox let his breath out and the saddle would slip. And so would Rowdy.

"Yes, sir. That's a one man horse," he had told Rowdy that first day. Favor smiled at the memory. Sure, Fox would let others ride him but he never gave his best like he did for Rowdy, and nobody else seemed to be able to read the horse's every move like the ramrod did. Fox and Yates rode as one.

The trail boss sat in the chair for watching and waiting for his ramrod to awaken again. An hour later, Favor drifted off to sleep. It had been a long hard day and the noise of the nightlife and the peacefulness of the room made it hard for him to stay awake. It was Rowdy's voice that finally roused him out of his peaceful sleep about thirty minutes later.

"Mr. Favor? What are you doin' here?" Came the weak voice of the wounded ramrod.

Gil Favor rubbed his eyes and straightened up in the chair. "Hello, Rowdy. Wish came back to camp and told me what happened. How're you feelin'?"

"Oh, okay, I guess. A little sore and my head's still throbbing some." Rowdy paused. "Who's watching the herd?"

Favor smiled and chuckled. "You're doin' just fine, boy. I've got Pete watching the herd."

Rowdy nodded, closed his eyes, and settled back into his pillow again. The trail boss thought Rowdy might be going back to sleep and was about to seek a more comfortable position in the hard wooden chair, when Yates suddenly struggled to sit up. Pain shot up his shoulder again but he tried to ignore it. There was something he had to know.

"Woah, there, boy. You gotta stay in that bed till the doc says you can-" Gil Favor was interrupted.

"Mr. Favor, there's somethin' I gotta know. Before I passed out I heard Fox neighing. Like he was scared. I think the one of the other gang members was gathering fresh horses." Rowdy swallowed hard, dreading the reply he knew was coming. "They got Fox, didn't they?"

Favor put his down and answered, "Yeah, Rowdy. They took Fox with em along with several other horses." The trail boss saw a look of mixed emotions on the ramrod's face. There was anger because his beloved horse had been stolen, and then sorrow for fear he might never see his horse again. "There are other horses out there, Rowdy. When you're back up and about, which should be tomorrow according to the doctor, you can take your pick of any horse in the remuda. You can have any one you want." Gil Favor said trying to cheer up the downtrodden young man.

Rowdy tried to smile. He tried to be grateful. But in his heart, he knew no horse could ever replace Fox. "Sure, boss. Thanks." He felt hot tears start to spring to his eyes. Come on, Rowdy. You can't cry in front of Mr. Favor. You're no baby. Rowdy thought angrily to himself.

Favor noticed Rowdy's sudden discomfort and got up from his seat, preparing to leave the room. Rowdy glanced up thankfully at his boss and a mutual respect and understanding passed between them. The trail boss smiled slightly. "You get some sleep, Rowdy. I think I'll see if the doc's got any coffee." He turned and opened the door to go.

Rowdy stopped him. "Thanks, Mr. Favor."

"Anytime, Rowdy." Gil Favor left the room shutting the door quietly behind him.

Rowdy sighed heavily and settled farther into the clean white sheets covering the bed. He let the tears flow freely now. The warmth of the room and the sounds of the night once again lulled him into a deep, restful sleep.