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  “’Cause Holloway murdered a woman in Laredo. She was a woman Slim was in love with in the past.”

  “You mean Marie? I can’t remember the rest of her name but it was long and sounded like a song.”

  John swallowed more chicken and recited the name. “Her full name was Consuelo Marie De Zavala Morales. But she also took Slim’s last name after she broke it off with Slim.”

  “So her name was Marie Hanson? I remember Slim talkin’ about her on the cattle drive back in sixty-five. He was heartbroken. Slim talked about her on and off all the way to Kansas City. Why did she take Slim’s name if she wasn’t gonna stay with him?”

  “As best as I can tell,” John explained, “she was very much in love with Slim. But she knew that her Castilian parents wouldn’t accept her bein’ married to a gringo. She cared enough about honoring them that she was willin’ to leave Slim. Shortly after that, she found out she was carryin’ Slim’s child and moved to Laredo so she could raise her son without bringing shame on her parents or on Slim.”

  “Foolish girl!” exclaimed Joseph. “Didn’t she know Slim loved her and would have married her in an instant?”

  “I don’t know, Joe. I guess she thought she was doin’ the right thing for all concerned. From what I’ve been able to put together, everyone who knew her liked her. She was a special woman and she has raised a remarkable son. But let’s get back to Holloway. You said you fired all three of them?”

  “Yup. And when I fired them no goods, I did it in front of all the hands at breakfast. I had my foreman and some other men standin’ by so they wouldn’t get rough. And when they left, I gave all the hands a little speech. I told ’em if they wanted to do shoddy work and complain like those three, they needed to draw their pay right then. Otherwise, I expected them to get to work and give me a full day if they expected a full day of pay.”

  “I’ll bet that had an impact.” John had become a bit self-conscious about his eating so he pushed his plate back and just listened to Joe.

  “It shor did. The men got back to laughin’ and havin’ fun with their work. Don’t get me wrong; they work hard. But they’re enjoyin’ their work more. The squabblin’ that was goin’ on stopped. I haven’t heard any complaints since those three lefts.”

  “I tracked Holloway and his bunch to Encinal. Seems they worked there until a couple of days ago when they got fired. I was hopin’ they’d come this way.”

  Joe shook his head. “No, they didn’t come back this way. They would know better than to stop here. And I would have heard if they came this way. I’ve got hands out all over this country. My land is on both sides of the El Camino Real. If they came this way, they would have been seen and I’m sure the hands would have told me.”

  Mo interrupted the conversation. He was carrying two bowls of banana pudding. John watched as he placed the bowls before them. Both were filled to capacity. “I just got ’em out of the oven. And my feelin’s will be hurt if you don’t get at least one refill.”

  John put a big spoon of the pudding in his month and let out an audible groan. “Oh my goodness. This may be the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.” John continued eating until he had scraped the bowl clean. Mo was standing back watching with satisfaction as the pudding disappeared.

  As John set his spoon down, Mo scooped up his bowl, quickly refilled it and set it before John. John couldn’t help but smile as he looked at the bowl of pudding, then back at Joe and then at Mo. Using a bit of restraint, he was committed to not finishing that bowlful until Joe finished his first.

  Joe continued to pontificate about ranching and motivating the hands to give their best work. “… and if you give a man good grub, he has somethin’ to look forward to at the end of the day.”

  As Joe finished his pudding, John took his last bite and pushed his bowl aside. Mo was immediately there to take the bowl back for another refill. John gave a half-hearted plea that Mo not get him any more. But when Mo brought back the third bowl, John had no trouble finishing it. This time when his bowl was empty, John held on and politely told Mo he didn’t have room for any more. That was mostly true but John felt he could probably eat a bit more.

  “So since they didn’t come this way,” Joe offered, “it must mean they turned back toward Laredo. What are you plannin’ on doin’ now?

  “If you’ll let me bunk here tonight, at first light tomorrow, I’ll head back to Laredo just as fast as my horse will carry me.”

  “Of course you can stay here. Just pick out a bunk. And be sure to give your horse a bucket of oats. He’ll be needin’ it for the trip. But in the mornin’ before you leave, come by and pick up some grub. I’ll tell Mo to be expectin’ you.”

  John thanked his host and went out to the hitching rail and led Midnight over to the corral. After a good brushing, he got Midnight a bucket of oats and headed to the bunkhouse. On the way, he marveled at how a man he had only met seemed like a lifelong friend.

  That night, John slept well. He felt he had a plan in mind and was close to catching Holloway. As one of the hands blew out the lamp, John smiled to himself as he thought how much he had enjoyed his meal, especially being introduced to a new dessert.

  Before first light, John was wide-awake. He slipped out of the dark bunkhouse listening to a chorus of snoring and heavy breathing. As he walked to the corral, he whistled softly once and heard Midnight reply with a whinny. After saddling his horse, he left Midnight at the hitching rail in front of the dining hall.

  Inside, Mo was just finishing filling a flour sack with food. “Joe told me you were goin’ after Holloway and his bunch. I hope you catch ’em.”

  “Thanks Mo. I feel sure I will. And thanks for the grub. It feels like you packed enough to last me a week or more.” John swung up onto Midnight, hung the groceries over his saddle horn, lifted a hand to wave at Mo, and hit the trail back to El Camino Real.

  Chapter 15

  LAREDO, TEXAS

  Crudder turned south when he got to El Camino Real and hoped he could make up lost time heading to Laredo. He knew Holloway never made it to Cotulla. Now instead of being only a day behind Holloway, he is at least two days behind. John dug down into the grub sack and snagged a couple of fresh biscuits. They were still warm and more tender and flavorful than any biscuits he could remember eating. He was grateful Cotulla insisted he see Mo and pick up food for the journey.

  Normally Laredo was a two-day ride from Cotulla’s Ranch. But John knew Midnight could make the nearly seventy miles in a day. John gave Midnight his head and the magnificent horse ran like he was on a racetrack. Every fifteen to twenty minutes, John would rein Midnight back to a walk—which the horse didn’t like—and finally settle into a fast lope. After a few minutes at a reduced pace, John would once again give the gleaming black horse free rein.

  John made it back to Laredo by midafternoon. He went immediately to the sheriff’s office. Sheriff Lasiter heard John riding hard to his office and came out to meet him.

  “I knew it sounded like someone was riding here to tell me of an emergency. Come in John and tell me what you’ve found.”

  “Hello JD. While I’m glad to see you, I’m still after Holloway. I was just a day behind him when I got to Encinal so I figured he headed north to San Antonio. But when I got to the Cotulla Ranch, I found he had not gotten that far. He must have turned back to Laredo.”

  JD poured John a cup of coffee and set the mug on the desk. As John picked it up and began drinking, Lasiter filled John in on what he knew. “A couple of days ago, someone came in the office and told me they had seen Holloway, Gomez, and Atkins riding back into town. I found it hard to believe since I was sure Holloway knew I’d sworn out a warrant for his arrest. I walked down to the saloon and was told Holloway and the rest had just ridden into town on their way to Mexico.”

  “Thanks for the coffee, JD. I think I’ll head over to the saloon and see what more I can find out.” John led Midnight down the street and tied him in front of the saloon. The sign
swinging from the ceiling of the porch read, Bustin’ Loose Saloon and had a drawing of a cowboy riding a bronc.

  As he walked into the saloon, John was aware the noise level dropped considerably. He walked to the bar and said, “Manny, could I get a beer please?”

  “Sure thing, Mr. Crudder.” Manny quickly poured the beer and instead of sliding it down the bar, brought it down and set it in front of John. John looked around the saloon and realized everyone was watching at him. Actually, they were gawking.

  “Thanks, Manny.”

  “You’re welcome, Mr. Crudder.”

  “Manny just call me John. Do you mind if I ask you something?”

  “Sure Mr.—er, John.”

  “Why is everyone staring at me?”

  “Well, sir, they heard about your fancy knife work and how quick you are on the draw. I ‘spect you could say you have a reputation.”

  “I see. Well, I didn’t want a reputation of that kind. And I certainly didn’t want to kill those men.”

  “You didn’t have any choice. I saw it all. They came after you.”

  “Thanks, Manny. I appreciate you makin’ that clear to the sheriff. I wonder if I could ask you more about Holloway? I understood he has been back here.”

  “That’s right. He came in with Gomez and Atkins and all three ordered whisky. They drank most of a bottle. By the way, you need to be aware, they know you’re after them.”

  “How do they know that?”

  “One of the men who was in the bar when you killed those fellers told ’em.” Manny looked from side-to-side in a conspiratorial way. “He said you were a big man that was quicker on the draw than anyone he’d ever scene. He also said you had all kinds of knives coming out of your back and your sleeves and even your boots. He said you threw five knives in all. I don’t think that was right but you know how people are. They tend to exaggerate a mite.”

  “I guess so.” John nodded his head in agreement. “Any idea where they’re headed?”

  “When they left, they said real loud so everyone could hear that they were headed to Mexico and were going all the way to Mexico City and were gonna stay there.” Once again, Manny looked side to side. “But I don’t think that’s where they’re going.”

  “Why not?”

  “’Cause I heard Gomez and Atkins whisperin’ about goin’ to San Anton. I think they just said Mexico in case you came back lookin’ for ’em. That would throw you off their scent.”

  John laid a silver dollar on the bar beside his untouched beer. “Thanks, Manny. And if they were to come back here, I would appreciate you not mentioning I was lookin’ for ’em.”

  Manny expertly slid the coin off the bar and into his pocket. “You can count on me, John. As far as they’re concerned, you were never here.”

  John left the Bustin’ Loose and led Midnight back to the sheriff’s office. He told the sheriff of his conversation with Manny.

  “So Manny don’t think they headed to Mexico atall?” asked Lasiter.

  “That’s right. He thinks they are headed to San Anton. I guess I’ll head that way and see if I can find them.”

  “I wish I could ride with you, John. Just remember, when you find ’em, I’m expectin’ you to bring ’em back here for trial.”

  “I won’t forget, sheriff. I intend to bring them in alive if they’ll let me.”

  Chapter 16

  EL CAMINO REAL

  John mounted Midnight and took the road out of town to the north. As he rode, he wondered how far he was behind Holloway and his gang. John rode on until he found the small lake where he camped before. He unsaddled Midnight, gave him a good grooming, and left him free to drink his fill and graze through the evening.

  It didn’t take John long to get a fire built and a pot of coffee started. He pulled the grub sack from his saddle horn knowing it contained a slab of bacon, thinking that would be his supper. But as he went through the bag, he found Mo had packed up around ten pieces of fried chicken. They were all thighs and legs. John smiled to himself as he realized Mo must have watched him carefully to know which pieces of chicken John favored. There was also a Mason jar of leftover mashed potatoes and gravy and several more biscuits.

  John thought about trying to heat up his leftovers but after devouring two pieces of chicken, he realized he liked it just as well cold. Surprisingly, the mashed potatoes and gravy were also good cold. He made quick work of the food. In the bottom of the sack he found one more Mason jar and wondered what Mo had given him. He had to hold the container near the fire to identify its contents. John smiled as he realized Mo had sent him some more banana pudding, or as Mo called it, ‘nana puddin’.

  As the fire burned down, John drank another cup of coffee and wondered what tomorrow would bring. Would he find Holloway and the others? Or would he have to continue his quest on toward San Antonio? Without warning, John recalled the nightmare he had a few days earlier when a masked man had shot him several times and also shot Midnight. An involuntary shudder shook John. He pulled the collar of his coat up to give him a bit more warmth. As he rolled out his ground cloth and got his blanket, John wondered if the dream was a premonition of some coming catastrophe. He tossed and turned for a while waiting for sleep to come. When it did come, it was restless. He knew he was dreaming but he couldn’t recall any of his dreams. All he knew is his sleep was troubled.

  When John woke up, the sun was already high in the sky. He realized he must have finally fallen to sleep and slept soundly just before sunup. John drank his leftover coffee without heating it. He hurriedly saddled Midnight and put away his bedroll. As he swung up, he reached in the grub bag and grabbed the two remaining biscuits.

  Once he finished the biscuits, John let Midnight run. He felt bad that he had slept late. He thought his horse was going to have to make up for the time he lost. Midnight ran on with abandon longer than John typically allowed.

  By late afternoon, John made it into Encinal and headed over to the livery stable. The stableman recognized John and took the reins as John swung down.

  “Howdy, young feller. Can I get your horse some oats? He sure seemed to like ’em when you was here before.”

  “Sure, that would be great.” John unsaddled Midnight, got his brush and started to groom his mount.

  “I can do that for you, mister.”

  John smiled at the old man. “Thank you kindly. But I enjoy doin’ that myself.”

  “Suit yourself. Glad to see a man take care of his horse.”

  “Maybe you can help me. I’m looking for three men. One of them is missin’ part of his ear and has a spider tattoo on his hand. And one of the men has a fancy hat with a hatband made of silver pesos.”

  “Yup, I’ve seen em,” said the stableman. “The other man is a Meskin. Yeah, they’ve been here. They are up to no good, I can tell you that.”

  John stopped brushing and looked at the old man. “What do you mean?”

  “Anyone who would treat their horses the way they do, are up to no good. That I know.”

  “What did they do?” John asked.

  “They’d ridden their horses too hard and were too lazy to do anything to take care of them. I don’t think they had given ’em any water all day. They just left ’em here and walked over to the saloon.”

  John listened carefully to the old man. “When were they here?”

  “Yesterday. Came through here ‘bout this same time. I offered to get their horses some oats, but they said they didn’t deserve anything more than hay. What kind of person will treat a horse like that?”

  John finished brushing Midnight and flipped the old man a silver dollar. “Would you please give my horse some oats? And if you don’t mind, I’ll bunk down beside him in his stall.”

  The stableman smiled as he pocketed the coin. “Shor ‘nough, mister. Glad to take care of your horse. Help yourself to sleeping with your horse.” He moved back toward John and added in a bit of a whisper. “For another half a dollar, I can get you a cot to sleep on.”


  “Thanks, but I’ll be fine on the hay.” The old man’s face reflected his sadness at John’s response. “Come to think about it, I’ll take you up on that cot.” John reached in his pocket and found a fifty-cent piece and flipped it high in the air. The old man smiled as he quickly caught it and put it in his pocket.

  Crudder walked over to the saloon and took a seat at the same table he had eaten at a few days before. No sooner had he taken a seat than Ruby walked out of the kitchen with two plates of food and brought them over to John’s table.

  “Steak and taters sound all right to you, John?”

  “How did you get that ready so fast?”

  “I was standin’ out front of the saloon when I saw you ride into town. I figured you’d be headed this way. Mind if I join you? I was just getting’ ready to have my supper.”

  “That would be fine, Miss Ruby.”

  “Now don’t start that ‘Miss Ruby’ nonsense, cowboy. I’ll go get our beer and be right back.”

  In less than a minute she was back with two mugs and started digging into her steak. “Better eat up, John. You’re gonna need your strength. Yes, you sure will.”

  “The food’s good, Ruby. What do you mean, I’m gonna need my strength?”

  Ruby fowled the air with a number of colorful words she used to describe Holloway and his men. “Cause I know why you’re here. Holloway and his gang are in town. That is, they were in town yesterday. I think they headed out to the Dawson Ranch.”

  “Why would that do that? They were fired just before I came through here earlier.”

  “Well that’s why they’re going out there. They think Colby owes them more than he paid them when he fired ’em. And that’s not all. They know all about you. They know you’re huntin’ ’em down for murdering Marie Hanson. John, you better be careful. I think those boys are as dangerous as they come. It wouldn’t bother them one bit to kill you and cut you up into tiny little pieces.”