19 comments/ 20145 views/ 9 favorites The Trail to Perdition By: woodmanone By Woodmanone copyright September/2011 There are no descriptive sexual scenes in this story. Constructive comments, critiques, and emails are very welcome and are appreciated. Thank you for taking the time to read and comment on my work. The Trail to Perdition Seager was bigger than Tom. Got to be 6' 4 or so, Tom thought. His hands have seen a lot more hard work than most. They're scared and rough. Those crooked fingers show they've been broke. No sir, this ain't no normal business man. "You be John Seager?" Tom asked as he walked to the table. "I am." "Sorry to interrupt your breakfast. Sheriff Jenkins said you'd be looking for men to ride guard. Like to talk to you about it if I can. I'm Tom Boone." "Sit down and have coffee with me Mr. Boone and we'll talk." He motioned and the waitress brought the coffee pot and a cup for Tom. After she left Seager said, "You'd be the youngster that Justin Wren took in a while back." "Yes sir. Justin took me in and helped me heal up right after my Pa was killed." "Understand after you got saddle ready you went after the gang that killed you Pa and shot you. That true?" Tom nodded. "Never could cut their trail though; looked for a year and half. Last I heard they headed down to Santa Ana. Got some good advice about not followin them and decided I'd come back." He took a sip of coffee and scratched his ear. "Texas Jack won't go away. He'll be back in these parts one day and we'll settle what's between us." Seager looked at the man sitting across from him. He's young, Seager thought. But he's got bottom to him. And from what folks tell me he's better than average with that .44 and his Winchester. "In partners with an English lord you know. We got holdings and mines all over the southwest. The ones I need you for are over to Steven's Mountain and up near Benson." Tom nodded to show he knew the areas. "Rode over to Steven's Mountain with my Pa when we first came out here," Tom said. "Never been but I've heard of Benson. Pretty well know where it is." "I send payroll and supplies to Steven's on the first of the month. It's near 40 miles; usually takes five days there and back. It's faster comin back with an empty wagon." Seager looked at Tom and saw him nod again. "On the 15th I do the same for Benson. It's about 50 miles, through rougher country. That trip takes seven days, depending on the trail and the weather. You interested?" "So far, but I ain't heard about wages yet," Tom answered with a grin. "Got to be worth a lot for a man to be on the trail that much." Seager laughed. "Got your head on straight anyway," he said. "You're right; I pay better than the stage line or freight companies. Pay is $50 a trip; that's $100 a month for about two weeks work. I'll also provide a room at Mrs. Duncan's boarding house while you're in Tucson. You provide your own horse and gear. I'll supply weapons or if you want to use what you got I'll pay for your ammunition. I need two men; you're one of them if you want the job." Tom took another sip of his coffee. "That's a lot of money for two weeks a month Mr. Seager." "Yes it is but each payroll is between three and four thousand dollars," Seager replied. "I reckon the expense is worth the outlay to make sure that payroll gets to the mines." "Well sir, you just hired yourself a guard Mr. Seager. When do I start?" Seager smiled and extended his hand to shake with Tom. "This is the 20th. First trip will be to Steven's Mountain at the first of the month. Get your gear together and come to my office, it's over the bank, on the morning of the first." Justin and Theresa entered the café as Tom stood to leave. "Wondered where you run off to," Justin said. "Thought I was gonna be sittin on that porch all day," Tom replied and watched as Theresa and Justin's faces turned red. "Had to talk to Mr. Seager there about work. I start on the first of the month as a payroll guard." The three friends ate a late breakfast and started back to the livery to get their horses. Tom was a little concerned about sleeping arrangements and said so but Theresa put his mind at ease. "I will move into my husband's room and you can stay in the same room you've been using," she told Tom. "Don't worry Niño, we won't make you sleep in the barn," Theresa added with a smile. As they got to the livery, Tom explained his new job, the traveling, and the destinations. "Better find a good horse between now and the 1st," Tom said. "Mine's still a little stove in from all that hard riding for better than a year. He needs to rest for two or three months with good feed and nothing to do but chase after the mares." "Tell you what. I like that horse of yours," Justin said. "I got a spare horse here at the livery. Brought him in to be shod just before you got back and he's been here ever since. I planned to take him home with me today. Let's trade horses. You get an animal that's fresh and can handle the trails you'll be riding and I get a good looking animal to breed to a couple of my mares." Tom looked at his friend for about 10 seconds. "If that's what you want Justin, we've got a deal." "Don't you want to see my horse first?" "Nope. You say he's a good animal and I trust you and your judgment." Tom handed Justin the reins to his horse. "Where's my new horse?" Justin held up his hand for Tom to wait and went into the livery barn. He came back leading a big Appaloosa stallion that was prancing with his head held high and his ears cocked forward. Justin handed Tom the lead rope. "This here's Cochise," Justin said. "Look him over and see if he suits you." Tom took the lead rope and held out his hand so the horse could get his scent. As Cochise settled down Tom stroked his muzzle and spoke in a low soothing voice to the horse. He stepped back and gave the animal a good look. Cochise coat was a chocolate brown from the midpoint of his barrel to his head; right down to his nose. The rear of the horse was an almost dazzling white with chocolate colored spots. That horse has to be sixteen hands, Tom thought. He's got real strong legs and a deep chest. This is a horse you could ride for days and days and he'd still be strong and ready to go some more. "Reckon I got the best of the bargain," Tom said. He started switching his saddle and gear to Cochise. "Why'd you name him Cochise?" "I got the horse from a horse breeder from Nebraska. Said the animal was born the same year that the Apache Chief Cochise died on the reservation. The man said when he was in the Army; they'd chased Cochise and his band all over Arizona and New Mexico. Said he had a lot of respect for Cochise, so that's what he named the horse." Justin scratched his head. "Don't know if all that's true but sure makes a good story." Tom finished changing his gear and mounted Cochise. He gave the horse several seconds to get use to how Tom sat his saddle and then rode him slowly around the open area in front of the livery. Reining the horse back in front of Justin, Tom looked down. "He'll do," he said with conviction. The Trail to Perdition "Take it easy you big baby," Tom said to his horse as he fed and watered the animal. "You gotta learn to be patient and not go chargin off like a whirl wind all the time. Timmons doesn't know the country or how to hide his trail. We'll spot him tomorrow morning and then you can run his horse down." He patted the big Appaloosa fondly. "Ain't a horse in the territory that can best you in a long go. We'll have him before mid day." Tom used his saddle as a back rest and his long duster as a cover. He quickly fell into a light sleep, waking a couple of times during the night at the sound some animal made. At first light he drank some water, ate another piece of jerky and watered Cochise. Within twenty minutes he mounted and continued on Timmons's trail. An hour later Tom and Cochise topped a small rise. "There he is," Tom said with satisfaction. In the distance on a ridge line Timmons was pushing his horse hard. He'd seen Tom too. "Okay, go get him," Tom said aloud. He nudged his Cochise in the flank, sat back in the saddle, and gave the horse its head. In four or five strides Cochise was at a full gallop. Tom was alert and watched the landscape but sat easy and rocked with the motion of the gallop. We'll catch him in no more than an hour, he thought. Other than a few rises and some small hills the country was flat with lots of mesquite, sage brush, and creosote bushes. It was a dry and arid landscape with few water holes and no real trees except for an occasional Palo Verde. The only inhabitants were lizards and rattlesnakes; even the prairie dogs shunned the area. They came up out of a shallow arroyo and spotted Timmins no more than two hundred yards in front of them. Cochise bellowed out a challenge to the other horse and increased his speed. It seemed like the big horse was saying 'how dare you run from me' to the other horse. Down into another arroyo and out again and they had closed the distance by half. Now Tom could see Timmins looking back over his shoulder. He could see the man's wide open eyes and the grimace on his face. Timmins knew he couldn't out run the deputy and his big horse. Their path led around a small rock butt. As Timmins came abreast of some fallen rocks, he sawed on the reins and jumped off his horse. He took shelter behind one of the bigger boulders and fired his rifle back at Tom and Cochise. Tom quickly pulled Cochise to a halt and took cover behind a stand of mesquite trees. "Give it up Timmins," Tom yelled. "You can't outrun me, my horse is better than yours; I've got food and water so you can't outlast me. Best thing you can do is give it up. No need for anyone to die today." "If I go back, they'll hang me," Timmins shouted in reply. "That's not set in stone Rafe. The clerks gonna be okay so it ain't murder. You'll have to go to prison but at least you'll be alive." "I'll still be alive when I get away from you." "You're not getting away from me Timmins. You're going back with me; on your saddle or tied across it, but you are going back." Timmins didn't respond. At least he's not shootin," Tom thought. "C'mon Rafe, it's too damn hot to sit out here," Tom said in a calm voice. "Throw out your rifle and let's head back. We'll make camp later. I've got food and water enough for both of us." Tom had been creeping closer to Timmins' hiding place as they talked. He was behind another of the big rocks about twenty yards from the outlaw. He stood up and walked forward as Timmins threw his rifle over the big rock to the ground. Timmins waited until Tom got several feet away from the rocks, pulled his pistol, and shot the deputy. He stood to watch Tom go down. It wasn't a smart move. Tom had been hit in the side and spun half way around from the bite of the .45, but as Timmins stood Tom pulled his own pistol and fired back. He was a better shot than Timmins; he hit the bank robber in the left eye. Timmins fell and didn't move. He would never move again. Lifting his shirt, Tom examined his wound. The bullet had passed though his right side just under the skin. It wasn't a wound that would kill him but he needed to stop the bleeding before he passed out. Tom walked back to his horse and got an extra shirt out of his saddlebag. He used his canteen to wash the area and picked a broad, leaf like spine from an Aloe plant. Tom squeezed the sap out of the plant and rubbed it on the wound. Then he made a bandage out of the shirt tying it around his waist. Tom walked over, grabbed the reins of Timmins' horse, and led the animal back to the body. Grunting from the effort he put Timmins' body across his saddle. He put the ground cloth from the bedroll over the body and tied it to the saddle. Tom gave water to both horses being careful that they didn't drink too much. Then he mounted Cochise, turned his head back toward Tucson and kicked the horse into an easy lope that the horse could maintain for hours. Got to ride and keep riding before I stiffen up," he told himself. If I don't keep movin I won't be able to ride at all. Stopping a few times to water the horses, Tom rode almost nonstop back to Tucson. He pulled Cochise to a halt in front of the Marshal's office. "Hey Ted, give me a hand," Tom yelled. Ted opened the door to see Tom swaying in the saddle with bloody cloth on his right side. He quickly stepped over and took the lead rope of the horse carrying the dead man and tied it to the hitching rail. Ted turned to help Tom just in time to catch him as he fell out of the saddle. Holding Tom by his shoulders, Ted looked up and saw the barber at his front door across the alley way. "Jimmy get the doctor for Tom. He's been shot." Jimmy nodded and as he turned Ted added, "On the way back you ought to tell Sam Johnson to come by too." The doctor patched Tom up and told him to stay off his feet for three days and to take it easy for the next ten. "Then you can go back to work, but no long rides," the doctor ordered. "Let Ted make the trips out of town for a couple of weeks." Tom had told the Marshal what had happened when he caught Timmins. "I would have brought him back if he'd let me," Tom said. "He out smarted me. I didn't think he had a sidearm and got careless I guess. It won't happen again." The last words were said with hard, cold conviction in his voice. The incident changed Tom Boone. He would still give rustler's, bandits, and horse thieves the chance to drop their guns and give up but he never again tried to talk a man into coming back. It was drop you guns or use them. All that tried to use them, died on the spot. Those that had the good sense to surrender were treated decently. In one instant Tom shot and killed a man and his two sons. They had been rustling cattle and graduated to robbing the Wells Fargo stage coach. That was when Deputy Tom Boone got on their trail. When Tom caught up with the bandits in Sahuarita, the old man pulled his pistol and his two sons followed his example. It was an action that cost them their lives. Quicker that it took for the witnesses to tell about it, the man and his two sons lay dead in the street of the little village. Tom didn't always shoot the men he went after. Several times the outlaws realizing who was on their trail would drop their weapons, put their hands over their heads and give up. As one man said, "I may go to jail or prison but I'll still be alive. I wouldn't be if I drew down on Deputy Boone." These stories and others made the rounds and Tom got a reputation as a man and a Deputy Marshal not to fool around with. The common wisdom was "do what Boone told you or die". One other story was also told around campfires and in saloons. One Billy Boy Jackson fancied himself as another Billy the Kid of the Lincoln County Wars fame. Jackson shot a man that refused to give up his horse. The man's wife stepped off the boardwalk yelling at Jackson; he shot her too. Looking at several bystanders, he calmly mounted the dead man's horse and rode away. Tom Boone was sent after Jackson. Billy Boy had a two day head start and made it to a border town called Casa Piedra. Thanks to Cochise Tom had closed the gap and as he rode into the little village he saw Jackson pass the border marker and cross into Mexico. About fifty yards after he crossed the border Billy Boy turned to taunt the Deputy. Pulling Cochise to a stop just a few feet on the U.S. side of the border, Tom pulled his Winchester. "Come back to this side Jackson," Tom yelled an order. "The devil with you Deputy," Jackson responded. "You can't touch me now that I'm in Mexico." "I'll warn you one last time Billy, come back," Tom repeated. "Go to hell Boone," Jackson yelled back. Tom pulled back the hammer on the Winchester, put it to his shoulder, and shot Billy Boy Jackson right between the eyes. He calmly worked the lever action to put another shell in the chamber, let the hammer down and put the rifle back into the saddle scabbard. Tom turned Cochise back along the trail to Tucson. McCoy understood Tom's thinking and didn't say anything to his young deputy. Fact is, I'd a probably crossed into Mexico after Jackson, he thought. Tom just saved a lot of trouble with the U.S. and Mexican governments. "Did you really shoot that man after he'd crossed into Mexico? Etta Bronson asked as she and Tom took a buggy ride the day after he'd returned from tracking Jackson. Tom Boone had met the new school teacher, Etta Bronson, when her horse got away from her. He caught the animal and led it back to her. Tom handed her the reins, nodded his head, tipped his hat and turned to leave. "Thank you Deputy Boone," Etta said. "I'm Etta Bronson." "Yes em, I know," Tom replied. "I've seen you around town." "Were you following me?" She teased. Seeing that she had embarrassed him Etta quickly said, "I'm sorry. I was just teasing you. After you caught this danged animal I shouldn't embarrass you." "Didn't embarrass me ma'am," Tom said. It wasn't the truth but he didn't want to embarrass Etta either. "Matter of a fact, I asked Marshal McCoy about you." "Now that's funny. I asked him about you too." Etta smiled and said, "I supposed we should talk to each other instead of other people." Etta was a 26 year old schoolteacher. She came from Texas to get a new start and to leave behind bad memories. Rumor had it Etta had been engaged to the son of a wealthy rancher. His parents didn't like Etta, thought she was a gold digger, and they put pressure on their son to break off the engagement. When her fiancé wanted to postpone the wedding, Etta threw his ring in his face and came west to Arizona. She'd been in Tucson for two months but hadn't shown an interest in any man during that time but Deputy Tom Boone sort of drew her to him. Etta didn't know why, but she felt she wanted to get to know the young deputy better. For Tom's part he'd watched Etta walk the streets of Tucson from her first day in town. He of course noticed that she was a very pretty woman but it was more than her looks that caught his interest. She's about 5'6, slender but looks strong, he thought as he watched her walk from store to store. The first time he saw her up close he saw Etta's cornflower blue eyes. Her strawberry blond hair hung down her back almost to her waist and bounced from side to side as she walked. Over the next few days Tom saw Etta several times. He was in the general mercantile when she came in one morning. Tom watched and listened to her for a couple of minutes as she talked with the clerk. When Etta left and went toward the livery, he watched her for a minute or so. Tom started back to his office having forgotten what he'd intended to buy. As he neared the office he heard Etta yelling at her runaway horse. That was the morning they finally met. That runaway was surely good luck, Tom thought at the time. "Yes I did," Tom replied to her question as he pulled the buggy to a halt on a rise. "I didn't want Jackson to shoot another man and wife so I stopped him." "Was that legal? Will you get into some kind of trouble?" Etta was concerned for him. "Don't really know about legal. Book says you can do what's needed to catch a criminal." Tom gave her a hard little smile. "I did what was needed; the rest of it don't bother me none." Etta took Tom's hand, one of the few times she had done so, and said, "I'm glad Jackson won't be able to kill again. I feel much safer." It was the do gooder pastor of one of the local churches that raised an objection to Tom's handling of Billy Boy Jackson. "You executed that poor man without so much as a fair trial," Pastor Jinks said to Tom. "That poor man shot and killed a man to steal his horse," Tom responded in a cold voice. "Then he killed the man's wife for havin the nerve to yell at him about it." He gave the Pastor a hard look. "We put down sick animals and Jackson was a rabid dog. Good riddance I say." "Vengeance is mine sayeth The Lord," Pastor Jinks quoted. "An eye for an eye," Tom quoted right back. "Pastor, you're not my boss and you're not God. So until you're one or the other I suggest you get out of my way." He pushed past the Pastor and entered the Marshal's office. The Trail to Perdition "Figure we're about a day, day and a half behind them," John offered just after dusk. They had camped at one of the few water holes in the area. "Drivin the cattle and maybe leading some horses will slow em down," Justin remarked. "Got any idea where they're headed?" "My guess is they're headed for Perdition." John replied. "What the hell is Perdition?" Justin asked. "Funny you should ask that way," Tom said with a laugh. "Perdition means eternal damnation or hell." He chuckled again. "It's an outlaw town in the Alvarez Mountains," Tom answered. "Comancheros run the place and Jack runs the Comancheros." "The law just lets it be?" "Too hard a nut to crack I guess," Tom said. "Perdition sits in large box canyon back in the mountains. Only one way in or out of that canyon and there's forty or fifty men down there." He took a drink of coffee. They'd made a fire and had a hot meal that evening. It would be cold camps with beans, biscuits, and jerky for food from now on. "Can't wait em out either. They got enough food to last a year or more and there's a good spring right at the base of the canyon." "Take a full company of cavalry to root that many out," Justin said. "I know we're about as good as there is in the territory but how do you expect just three of us to do much?" "When you can't use the front door you go around to the back," John said. Looking at Tom he asked, "Right Tom?" Tom grinned and nodded. "I've got an idea that's just crazy enough to work. Tell you more when we get there." "Sure gonna miss my evenin coffee," John said. "Course we have to travel light to catch them." "We should cache some supplies here at the water hole. We may be in a bit of a hurry comin back this way. Tom suggested. "There's a little village called Aqua Fria bout five miles from the trail head into Perdition, We'll resupply there on the way in. May not have the time later." Aqua Fria's name meant "cool water" but the name was misleading. The sleepy little village did have a spring and the water was indeed cool but it tasted horrible because of the sulfur content. The rocks around the spring were stained yellow and green. A man or animals could drink the water and it was preferable to dying of thirst, but just barely. As they rode into Aqua Fria at dusk the next evening they could smell the sulfur spring and see a dust trail still hanging the air. "Almost caught em before they got here," Justin said. "Too bad we didn't, cause from what you say Tom it's gonna be a bear goin into that canyon." "I've been thinkin," John said. "How do you know so much about Perdition Tom?" "Been scouting it off and on ever since I became a Deputy. I want Texas Jack real bad but there's no way I could go in there alone. Thought if the Army or the Arizona Rangers ever decided to go in, I'd be able to give them the lay of the land." "But there's only three of us now," Justin said. "I don't see how two more men's gonna make a difference." "It won't, but you two ain't going in; just me." Tom saw the surprised look on his friends faces. "Weren't no reason for me to force the point before; thought I'd catch Jack away from Perdition one day. Now I don't have a choice; I've got to get Etta out of there." "But..." Justin began. "What I need from you two is covering fire when I come up that trail with Etta. I tell you about it tonight when we get to the rim. I know a spot where we can see the floor of the canyon. Get some rest; we're pullin out at dusk." Just after 11:30 that night the three friends stopped their horses about a hundred feet from the rim of the canyon. Tom dismounted as did Justin and John. They walked bent low until near the rim and then went down on their hands and knees. The box canyon was spread out below them like a big hole in the ground. On the open end of the canyon a wagon trail had been built and it wound between piles of rock and brush. It forced wagons or riders coming into the outlaw hideout to ride back and forth around them. There was a small stream from a fresh water spring meandering along the far side of the canyon. On the floor below was a sort of town; mostly lean-tos and shacks but there was one large two story building made of adobe. There appeared to be two wells near this ramshackle collection of buildings. Quietly Tom pointed out the features of the settlement. "That narrow trail in means any attacking force would only be able to ride two or three men across. Jack's men could sit back and mow them down as they came in. That big place is Jack's. He and two or three of his most trusted men live there. The shacks and such are for the rest of the gang. There are usually 15 to 20 of Jack's men down there. There are another 15 or so living down there that aren't part of Jack's band but they're just as bad." As Tom talked he used a telescoping spy glass to look over the outlaw camp. There were several large campfires burning so the area was almost as bright as day. "Somebody holed up here, several years ago had some education. He named the place 'Perdition'. Heard tell he was gonna call it 'Hell' but there was already a town by that name in Texas and it had been wiped out by the Texas Rangers. He thought it would be bad luck to use the name again." The three slowly crept back to their horses. "So how do you plan to rescue Etta with just three men against, what 30 or 40 guns?" Justine asked. Tom took off his hat, pulled a serape over his head, and added a very wide brimmed sombrero. "Got these back in Aqua Fria to wear when I go into that canyon. "Did you notice anything special when we scouted the place?" John was the one that nodded and responded, "Seemed to a party going on. Must have been going all night because there's a lot of drunks laying around." Tom smiled and replied, "That's right. I figured they would have a big shindig after a successful raid. Fact is I was countin on it. "I'm gonna pull this sombrero down low, ride in and act like one of the Comancheros. Have a drink or two, maybe dance with one of the women, then I'll mosey over to the house. When I find Etta we'll start up the trail. If any of them catch on I'll hang back and cover her." "What happens if you can't get out?" Justin asked. "If Etta comes to the head of the trail without me, y'all ride. Don't wait on me, don't try to come get me; just get her safe." Tom shook his head as the men protested. "McCoy and the others should be right behind us. If you can get to them, you'll be safe and so will Etta. The Marshal told me he was going to put together a 30 or 40 men posse or get a troop of cavalry if he could." He hesitated, looked his friends in the eye and added, "If they get past me and catch you, y'all don't stand much chance. Don't let them take Etta back in there." John slowly nodded understanding what Tom was asking. Justin looked back and forth between Tom and John, and then he too understood. Heaving a big sigh Justin nodded. "We won't let them have her again; you've got my word on it." Nodding at Justin, Tom said, "I need to switch horses with you until I get out of there. Cochise is too good an animal for one of those bandits to be riding; if I rode him in they'd know I wasn't one of them." He held up his hand to stop Justin's protest. "I know Blackie is a fine horse, but Cochise is a mite showy and will stand out." As Tom mounted Justin's horse he said, "Boys I'm not tryin to get killed but it's my job, Hell, it's my duty to get Etta back home. If she comes out by herself, put her on Cochise and tell her to ride. Y'all will need to ride rear guard. That big horse will get her back to McCoy or if necessary back to Tucson; no one will catch him. See you in a couple of hours." Tom nodded at his friends one last time, rode to the trail head, and started the winding path into the canyon. He passed one look out, grunted, and waved riding as if he were drunk. The man laughed and said something about not falling off your horse. Tom rode on toward the big house. The open area in front of the main building was littered with people in various stages of drunkenness. Lying on the ground, draped over chairs, or leaning up against lean-tos and shacks, several men, and women, were passed out. There were still about ten or twelve people drinking and raising hell. Tom tied Blackie loosely to a hitching rail beside two other horses. Blackie turned his head toward the other horses and sniffed. He moved sideways away from them as if he didn't want to associate with the outlaw's horses. "Didn't know you were so particular," Tom whispered and smiled at the big horse as he rubbed its nose. "Don't worry, I'll be back to get you soon so you behave." He turned and slowly made his way toward the rowdy crowd. He saw a half full bottle of tequila by a sleeping drunk and picked it up. Tom took a long drink, spilled some of the liquor down his shirt and playing drunk staggered to join the celebration. "Have a drink amigo," Tom said offering the bottle to one of the men watching a Mexican woman dance in the center of the group as two men played guitars. The man nodded and turned to bottle up and took two big swallows. "Where's the patron?" Tom asked. "Over to the house, guarding that woman we took outside of Tucson." "Guarding her or playing with her?" "Naw, he's guarding her. Toby over there," the man pointed to a man lying face up in front of the big house with blood on his face, "tried to get friendly with the woman and Jack near beat him to death." "Jack's saving her for himself I guess," Tom said. "Not that way. He said he's gonna trade her to some Mexican bandit down in Sonora for a lot of gold. Gonna leave tomorrow sometime. Jack told us all to leave the woman alone. Said the Mex would want a fresh woman not one that's been picked over." The man took another drink from the offered bottle. "But Toby didn't listen, thought he could sneak in there and have some fun without Jack finding out. Considerin how he looks, I reckon he was wrong." Tom nodded, took a drink, and gave the bottle to the man. When he turned up the bottle to drink, Tom walked away. He took a roundabout path to a side wall of the house and followed it to the rear. Two guards, leaning against the back wall, were talking about how bad Jack had beaten Toby. "Now Jack's got her up in that second floor room in the back," one said. "Got a man outside the door and us down here to make sure no one gets to her. I haven't seen her but she must be a real fine filly for Jack to go to all this trouble." There was a wooden balcony steps leading up that ran the whole length of the second story of the house. The guards were stationed at the foot of the steps and faced away from the corner of the house where Tom stood. He pulled his pistol and quietly made his way closer to the guards. When he got within three feet Tom hit the man on his left over the top of his head with the pistol. As that man fell, Tom backhanded the man on the right. The pistol acted like a club and both men went down. Holstering his weapon, he threw their weapons into the darkness and pulled the men closer to the building under the balcony. Tom went up the stairs and saw two windows, about ten feet apart, facing the balcony. There was light showing through one of them. He stepped lightly and walked over to that window and peaked around into the room. Etta was sitting on a bed with her hands and feet tied. Other than a bruise on her cheek she seemed to be okay. Her clothes were a little dirty but not torn or ripped and her hair was coming out of the bun she normally wore when she rode. Etta's eyes were bright and there was color in her cheeks. "You're a real brave man," she yelled at the closed door. "Took three of you to tie up one woman. I bet your mothers are very proud of you." "Shut up or I'll put a gag on ya," a man's voice came from the other side of the door but he didn't open it. "You won't be so feisty when the Mex gets done with ya." Tom smiled and thought, Etta ain't hurt she's just mad as hell. He looked around, listened for several seconds and climbed through the window. Etta turned toward the window saw Tom and took a deep breath to scream. Tom swept the sombrero off and she recognized him. She smiled and started to speak. He held up his hand to quiet her, walked to the door, and listened. Turning he came back to Etta, pulled his knife from the sheath on his belt, and cut her loose. "I thought you were another of the bastards that wanted to attack me. Their leader, Texas Jack they called him, beat a man half to death earlier this evening for trying it." "You okay?" Tom asked in a very low voice as he softly touched the bruise on her cheek. Etta nodded and put her arms around Tom's neck. "I didn't think anyone would come to help me." "Etta, I'll always come for you. You have to believe that. How'd you get the bruise?" "I fought them when they grabbed me off my horse and one of the men hit me." She leaned over and kissed Tom for the first time. "Thank you." Tom smiled at the kiss. "We can talk about this again when we get out of here. I'll find another horse and we'll ride up the trail slow like. If hell breaks loose you ride on out; I'll fight rear guard until you get to the top. John and Justin are waitin up there for us." "I can't just leave you," Etta protested. "You can't help me and the whole idea is to get you safe back in Tucson. Be sorta dumb to let you get caught again. Please Etta do as I say." She nodded and Tom led her across the room and out the window. They made their way down the stairs and when they reached the bottom Tom walked over to the two men on the ground. He took a serape and a hat off one of them and gave them to Etta. "Put these on. We'll look like the rest of them dressed like this." Tom put his sombrero back on and led her toward Blackie. He adjusted the stirrups on Blackie. "This is Justin's horse Blackie, you ride him out. I'll just borrow one of these horses." He helped her mount, got himself up on a sorrel, and they slowly rode toward the trail. About half way through the wagon trail, the hell Tom talked about broke loose. "Guess they found the two guards," Tom said when he heard the noise coming from the Comancheros camp. "Go Etta, ride out. I'm right behind you." They put their horse into a fast lope and soon got came to the end of the wagon trail. Justin and John were waiting for them. "I think we're gonna have company," John said. "They're running around trying to get horses saddled. "Best we ride," Justin suggested. "Etta switch horses with Justin," Tom said. "This is your horse, Cochise," she said as she mounted the big Appaloosa. "Why aren't you riding him?" "We didn't come all this way to let you get caught again. Cochise is the best horse in the county. If we have to run far, he'll get you home." Tom rode closer to Etta. "If they catch up to us, one of us will be rear guard. No matter what happens you keep riding. Don't stop just keep riding. Marshal McCoy and a posse should be close by now. Get to them." Etta started to protest and Justin said, "Don't do no good to argue with him Miss. He's as stubborn as a Missouri mule." "We gonna sit here and talk all night or are we gonna ride?" John asked. "I say we ride and argue about all this when we get Miss Etta safe." "Least we got a Hunter's Moon," Justine said looking up at the full moon. "Got light enough to ride by." "Gives them light enough to follow us too," Justine said. "Lead out John," Tom said. "I'll cover our back trail." John, followed by Etta and Justin, kicked his horse into a high gallop and rode back toward Aqua Fria. They would ride hard for the first 30 minutes or so and then slow to a ground swallowing lope. Tom gave them a two hundred yard head start and followed, looking back over his shoulder. About ten minutes later as Tom topped a small rise just before they came to Aqua Fria and looked back. The light from the full moon allowed him to see the riders coming after them. Some of the riders carried torches. They spotted the little group and turned toward them. Tom closed ranks with the others and shouted, "We got company. I'll hang back and discourage them some." As the others rode on, Tom dismounted, pulled his Winchester, and knelt behind an adobe wall on the outskirts of the small village. He used it as a support for his rifle and waited for the followers to get into range. The horse he'd taken from the hitching rail wasn't as good as the ones his friends were riding. It was already showing faint signs of fatigue from the ten minutes of galloping. Reckon I should have stole a better horse, Tom thought with a grim smile. The raiders were at 150 yards when Tom opened up on them. The range was too great for accurate shooting but he was just trying to slow them down; if he hit anyone so much the better. The bandits pulled up their horses and dismounted. They fired back at Tom and he could see their bullets strike the ground about 50 yards from him. One shot hit the wall in front of Tom. Damn, he thought, one of them has a long barreled Sharps or a buffalo gun. Hadn't counted on that. He fired, off and on, for another ten minutes and then mounted and rode away. For the next two hours the cycle was repeated. Tom would stop, fire a few shots, and ride on. Each time the outlaws would dismount and return fire. Most of the bullets were short but every once in a while the buffalo gun would hit close to Tom. Each time the bandits didn't wait as long to remount and they made up ground on Tom as he fought a rear guard action. Can't keep this up much longer, Tom thought. My horse is about done in and they're getting closer. Best find a spot to make a stand. If I can hold them off for another hour, Etta and the others can get away. After two more stops, Texas Jack and his men had closed to within a 75 yards. Now Tom's shooting began to pick men out of their saddles before they could dismount and find cover. But the raiders were also in range and it was getting more dangerous to stop. He'd shoot and get them to stop but their return fire peppered whatever cover Tom had found. Bout one more run before they overtake me, Tom thought as he mounted. Need to find a stand. The horse Tom was riding was really laboring and had slowed down considerably. Don't have much left in him, Tom thought. He saw a rock outcropping and decided that was the place to settle and try to hold off the Comancheros. I need to hold them for about another 30 minutes, he thought. Tom looked over his shoulder and his followers were close enough that he could make out features of the men. He kicked the horse in the flanks trying to get one more burst of speed out of the tired animal. Tom got to the rocks and dismounted. He quickly set up a defensive position and waited for the bandits to top the rise leading up to his position. The outlaws topped the rise lead by a man with long hair that streamed behind him as he rode. Tom shot at the leader and saw his horse go down. "Don't think I hit him but I got his horse, Tom muttered. The man with the hair quickly mounted another horse that had belonged to one of the men Tom had shot. Tom could see and almost hear the man yelling at his men to continue. They regrouped and rode at toward the rocks. Tom continued to make them pay for following him. He'd hit another three men when shots erupted from behind him. He turned and saw McCoy leading a troop of U.S. Army cavalry. Thirty soldiers joined by McCoy charged the Comancheros. Justin, John, and Etta stopped by Tom's position. John handed the young deputy a canteen and Etta jumped off her horse and hugged him. After taking a big drink from the canteen Tom said, "Sure took y'all long enough. What'd you do stop for coffee?" The Trail to Perdition "Didn't think you'd like us spoiling your fun," Justin teased. "If we'd waited another hour you'd probably been settin here waiting on us all alone," John said with a laugh. "There were about 20 men came out of that canyon after us. Looks like there's only about ten left." He sobered a little and added, "Don't reckon it pays to chase after Deputy Boone now do it?" "I'm right glad to see you boys, I was about done in," Tom replied in a serious tone. "My horse couldn't have gone much farther." The three friends shook hands, sort of embarrassed by their feeling for each other. It was also awkward because Etta was hanging on to Tom's right arm and didn't seem to want to let go. "There goes Texas Jack," John said pointing toward the outlaws. "He's the one with the long hair on that buckskin." Jack and four of his men had left the others to fight the cavalry and rode back at a gallop back toward Perdition. "Cowardly," Justin said. "But smart. Using the others to hold off the soldiers while he gets away." "He's not getting away, he's just delaying it," Tom said. His eyes were cold and hard. "Not this time Jack," he added as he watched the leader of the Comancheros escape. Stepping past Etta Tom mounted Cochise. "Tom, let the Army take care of him," Etta said as she touched his leg. "He got away after killing my Pa; he's gotten away with a lot but no more. I'm going to finish this today. You boys make sure Etta gets home, I'm going after Jack." "Don't think so Tom; we're going with you," John said and Justin nodded in agreement. "Figure I owe that bunch too. Never did like being forced to run from a fight and now I don't have to." McCoy came back to join them as the soldiers had surrounded the bandits and the few that were left were surrendering. "Howdy Tom. Looks like we got here in time. Now tell me son, would an extra two or three days have made that much difference?" "Yes sir, it would have. Jack was planning on taking Etta down to Sonora today. We'd been too late to stop him if I'd waited." "See your point. It's good that other than a few Comancheros nobody got hurt bad. Etta is as mad as a wet hen but she's fine otherwise." "Please get her a horse and take her back with you Ted," Tom requested. "How's your horses boys?" He asked Justin and John. "They ready for some hard riding?" Both men nodded and Tom kicked Cochise into a fast lope back toward Perdition. The sun was rising over the Alvarez Mountains when Tom, Justin, and John got to the trail head leading into the box canyon. On either side of the narrow entrance to the canyon, the rock wall of the mountains rose almost vertically over two hundred feet in some places. They stopped their horses behind the first pile of rocks blocking the wagon trail. The rump of a horse was just disappearing behind the next obstacle. "We're a little late; they got here before us. How we gonna work this Tom?" John asked as he checked the loads in his pistol. "Been thinkin on that as we rode. The first look out is usually bout half way down the trail there. They usually ask your business before they raise a fuss. None of the people left are Texas Jack's men so we might be able to talk our way in; considering the beatin Jack and his boys just took." "We'd still be in the middle of a hornet's nest once we got in there," Justin said. "May be but if we tell those left that there's a troop of cavalry following and all we want is Jack; they might just let us have him. Then it'd be Jack and his four against us. Don't like the odds none but don't know any I'd rather face them with than you boys." Tom checked his Remington and then his Winchester. "What'da you think?" John reached over and pull Tom's 10 gauge coach gun from its scabbard. "I say if you let me use this scatter gun I'll ride in with you." He gave Justine a feeble smile. "I ain't much on fast draw but with this I don't have to be." "That's okay John," Justin threw in. "Tom and I are used to a fast draw and fast shootin. You do what you need to and we'll take care of the rest." Turning to Tom he said, "Let's ride; we got a long trip back to Etta and Theresa." Tom led the way as they slowly rode around the obstacles in their path. As they approached the half way point, a guard challenged them. "What do y'all want and who are you?" He yelled from his hiding place. "I'm Deputy U.S. Marshal Tom Boone. We've come after Texas Jack and all that follow him." The guard peeked over the rock and saw the Marshal's star on Tom's dark shirt. "I can't rightly let you in Marshal. Boss would have my hide." "You got a way to get him out here to talk to me?" "I got this big dinner bell here. If I bang on it, he and the others will come running." "Bang on the bell Mister. I got a proposition for your boss and the rest of you." The guard picked up a miner's hammer and beat on the large bell. The sound bounced off the cliffs and echoed down the canyon. It took less than three minutes for ten or so men to ride to the guard station. "Who are you?" A heavy set man with an eye patch yelled. "He's a Deputy Marshal," the guard said before Tom could answer. "Says he's after Texas Jack. Says he's got a proposition for us." "Shut up Zeb." Turning back to Tom the boss man asked, "That right? You the law?" "Deputy U.S. Marshal Tom Boone. Like your man said, we're here for Texas Jack. And any of his men that come back with him." "I've heard of you Boone. I'm Ned Stevens." Ned scratched at his beard for a few seconds. "Jack and his boys looked rite beat up when the rode in. You do that to em?" "Me, these two, and 30 or so U.S. Calvary. The soldiers are an hour or two behind us headed this way." "What's your proposition Marshal?" "Let us come in and get Jack or you send him out. If you don't interfere y'all can go on your way. Makes no difference to me but I aim to have him before the day is over." "What about those Army boys?" "There's enough of them to root you out but once I get Jack and his men, they won't come after you. At least not this time. I give you my word. After that, quien sabe...You're on your own." "Not wishin anything bad on you Boone but what happens to your word if Jack kills you. Where would I be then?" "Marshal McCoy is ridin with the Calvary. I'll write a short letter to him explaining your part in this. He'll honor my word." "Could you write that letter before the shootin starts Boone," Stevens asked. "Get me some paper and something to write with and I'll do her right now." Stevens turned to one of his men. "You still writin in that journal of yourn?" The man nodded. "Give the Marshal a page out of your book." The man rode over and handed Tom his journal and the stub of a pencil. Tom crossed his right leg across his saddle forward of the horn and rested the book on his leg. He picked a blank page and wrote a short message to McCoy. Tom motioned and the owner of the journal took it back to Stevens. Ned read the note and nodded. "Give us a few minutes to get Jack on his way Boone," Stevens said. "And good luck; never did cotton much to Jack and his orders." Stevens turned his horse and with his men following him he rode back toward the village. The guard was now sitting on the rock he'd hid behind watching with wide eyes. "It's been fifteen minutes Tom," John said. They'd been sitting almost motionless on their horses. "I think Jack is trying to talk his way out of this." Tom looked up at the sounds of horses coming their way. He pointed with his chin beyond the last pile of rocks. Texas Jack and his four men were being herded at gun point toward the trail. "Don't look like he won the argument." Stevens called a halt in the last open area before the obstructions on the wagon trail. "Don't come back," he instructed. "Jack, if you and your boys get past the Marshal, don't come back." "Damn you Stevens. I've brought a lot of money and supplies to this town," Jack protested. "Hell I shared everything we'd get from our raids and such. You'll just dry up and die without me." "You also brought a lot of attention to us and now you've brought the Army down on us. Perdition was here before you came and it'll be here after you go." Stevens pulled his pistol and pointed at Jack. "Ride out Jack, while you still can," he ordered. Jack turned his horse back toward where Tom and his friends waited. His men spread out with two on either side of their boss. For the first time Tom got a close look at the infamous Texas Jack Billings. He was a big man standing well over 6 feet. Jack's horse was a big animal because at 250 pounds a smaller horse couldn't carry Jack's weight. He had dark, almost beady eyes and wore his dirty, greasy, black hair long down to his shoulders. On his head he wore a flat crowned wide brimmed hat. Jack carried two pistols; the one on his right was worn low and tied down, the left pistol was at his waist with the butt facing forward. "Jack Billings, you're under arrest," Tom called across the space separating the two factions. "Drop your pistols." "I like the name Texas Jack a bit better sonny," Jack replied. "Whose gonna take me in? You?" "I'm Deputy Marshal Tom Boone and that is my intention. You and you're men are coming with us; on your saddles or face down across them. It doesn't make a difference to me but you are coming with us." "You're out numbered Marshal," Jack's voice was full of scorn. "We'll shoot you down and ride over your bodies on our way out." "I'm done talkin Billings. One last time drop your guns and surrender." "To hell with you," Jack screamed and pulled at his pistol. His men went for their guns at the same time. On Tom's left, John fired one barrel of the coach gun knocking the man across from him out of the saddle. On the right Justin drew and fired. He hit the man on the end of the line in the chest and quickly turned toward the next man. Before that man could fire, Justin put a bullet through his head. Sitting between John and Justin, Tom drew his Remington and shot Texas Jack twice; once in the chest and the other in the head. He fired at the next man and hit him just as John's second blast from the scatter gun also hit him. The man crumpled and fell off his horse; dead before he left his saddle. "Everybody okay?" Tom asked. "Anyone get hit?" "Think I'm nominated," John replied. He was holding his off hand over a wound in his side. "Ain't bad though. Nothing that a little whiskey wouldn't cure." Tom turned to Justin and his friend smiled and nodded. "Can we go home now Tom? My wife is waiting for me. She was really mad when I decided to come with you and I'd like to start makin it up to her." Stevens and his men had sat on their horses and watched the small battle from behind a big pile of rocks about a hundred feet away. He rode closer to Tom. "Reckon I'm glad it was Jack facin you and not me Marshal. I think y'all might be a hand full." He laughed a little and asked, "You gonna keep you word about those Army boys?" "Yes sir, I will," Tom answered. "But I heard that the Arizona Rangers were thinkin of coming to see about Perdition." Pointing at Texas Jack and his men Tom said, "With the Comancheros gone, they could figure taming this town might be worth the effort. Were I you, I'd be thinking about movin on." "Fair enough Marshal. Maybe it is time for Perdition to die. Maybe time for us to move down into Old Mexico." Stevens tipped his hat at Tom. "Good luck to you Boone. Nothin personal but I hope I never see you again." "Could I get you to bury these men before you go?" "You kilt em; you bury em if you want. Makes no never mind to me," Stevens replied. "If you leave em we'll just ride around em. Adios Marshal." Stevens and his men, including Zeb the guard, rode back to Perdition. "Looks like all the funs over with," John said with a grin. "Guess it's time for us to head home. He had made a bandage out of his bandana and used a piece of rawhide to tie it against his wound. "I'll have that old Mexican women back in Agua Fria tend to it." "You want to bury those men?" Justin asked Tom. "They never stopped to bury any of the people they robbed and killed. Heard tell they even burned some of the bodies. Far as I'm concerned they can lay where they are." He spit on the ground near Texas Jack. Tom heard the sound of a horse and looked back toward Perdition. The guard they knew as Zeb was trotting his horse back toward them. He was carrying a large burlap sack. "Ned said to give you these oats for your horses. Said you could water your animals at the spring branch yonder. Said it was a thank you for keepin your word." Zeb dropped the sack, turned his horse and returned to the village. "Looks like you made a friend" Justin joked to Tom. "Not his friend," Tom replied not liking the joke. "I see him or his men tomorrow and I'll arrest them." "Take it easy Tom," John said. "Justin was only joshin you." Tom hung his head a little and his face got red. "Sorry Justin; must be more wore out than I thought. Let's water the horses and head out. They rode to the stream flowing along the rock bluff to their right. There was a small pool where the water collected before the stream went under the wall. As they watered and fed the horses, Tom looked back at Perdition. It was a bee hive of activity. Stevens and his men were loading everything of value onto wagons, on to pack horses, and filling up some two wheel carts. A dozen horses and twice that many cattle were being gathered for a drive. "Looks like Stevens decided to heed your warnin," John remarked. "Never saw so many people makin such a fuss," Justine said. "Let's get back to Tucson," Tom suggested. "I've had about enough of the Alvarez Mountains." The three friends mounted and made their way along the meandering trail back to the mouth of the box canyon. Tom looked at the bodies of Jack and his men as he rode past. "Guess we'll just leave em here. It's all they deserve," Tom said and rode on. They rode at a slow lope for a half an hour and then slowed to a walk to rest their horses. About an hour from the mouth of the canyon they saw McCoy and the soldiers coming their way; riding hard. In the middle of the soldier's two by two formation, Etta rode with a grizzled old sergeant. "I tried to send her with a couple of soldiers back to Tucson," McCoy said in greeting and pointed his chin at Etta. "She wouldn't go. Said she wanted to wait for you." He chuckled. "She's almost as stubborn as my wife." "Sounds just like Theresa," Justin offered. Turning toward Tom he said, "Y'all gonna have your hands full with that one." Tom grinned and replied, "Maybe so, but it'll be worth it. Don't you think?" Etta rode her horse out of the protective formation and came over to Tom. "Are you alright?" Tom reined Cochise so he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Etta's horse. He took Etta's hand. "I'm fine, John got nicked but not bad. I'm just glad that you're safe." Etta grabbed Tom's shoulder and pulled herself onto Cochise, sitting on the saddle in front of him. "You rescued me, in spite of all those men in that horrible village, you rescued me," Etta said. She put her arms around Tom and hugged him. Tom returned the hug and then pulled back a little. "Best get on your horse; we need to head back to Tucson." The young Lieutenant, one Miles Purdue, leading the troops turned to his men. "Sergeant, we're going to destroy Perdition and rid the countryside of those murdering scum. Column of twos, rifles at the ready. When we get into that canyon, we'll spread out into a skirmish line and charge." "Hold on Lieutenant Purdue," Tom requested. He pulled the Lieutenant aside then explained what had happened in the box canyon and the help that Ned Stevens had been. "You boys chewed up those Comancheros pretty good out on the desert flats the other day. And me and my friends took care of the rest. Texas Jack and what was left of his Comancheros are dead." Tom paused for a few seconds and continued. "I gave Stevens my word that he and his men could ride on. I'd appreciate you honoring my promise." "But this is a chance to clean out that hell hole," the Lieutenant protested. "Stevens and his men are headed down to old Mexico right now. By the time you get back they'll be mostly gone and you'll end up watchin em ride across the border. Let em be Miles." Tom smiled and added, "There'll be other chances for you to make a name for yourself." "Remember if it hadn't a been for you and your men Lieutenant, we'd a never been able to rescue Miss Bronson," McCoy said. "That should be a satisfying feeling and folks will hear about it. You mark my words." Purdue thought for a little while. "New orders Sergeant. Let's get these people safely back to Tucson." They made camp at Agua Fria that evening; they would make the final push back to Tucson the next day. John had his wound tended to by the old lady who worked in the cantina. "C'mon boys, I'm buyin," he said as he walked to the makeshift bar. Tom and Justine accepted a glass of tequila and they toasted each other. "Must be gettin old," Justin said. "These shoot outs aren't as much fun as they were ten, fifteen years ago." "Not gettin old Justin," Tom replied. "You've just got someone at home to care about and who cares about you. Wish I did." "You know this village ain't exactly a paradise," John said to lighten the conversation up. "It's in the middle of miles and miles of nothin and it's got bad water. If I owned Hell and Agua Fria, I'd live in Hell and rent this place out to the Devil." "Maybe so, but the tequila's good," Justin replied. "Think I'll have another before I turn in." The men returned to the camp and turned in for the night; they would be getting an early start the next morning. Tom spread his bedroll a little away from the others, using his saddle to rest his head. Be the first night in a while that we don't have to stand watch, he thought. Got a whole troop of soldier boys to take care of that. He was almost asleep when he sensed someone coming toward him. Tom had put his pistol belt near at hand and he slowly reached over to his Remington. "Tom, you awake?" Etta asked in a whisper. "Am now." "Could I sit with you a spell? I had nightmare that I was still with Texas Jack and his bunch." "Sure you can." Tom replied and sat up. Etta quick stepped to Tom's side and dropped down on his bedroll. She pulled his arm around her and laid down, bringing Tom down with her. Putting her head on his chest she snuggled up against him and went to sleep. The next morning Tom woke at dawn and looked at Etta sleeping on and next to him. He gently pulled his arm from under her and stood up. Damn, he thought, arm's asleep. Tom rubbed and shook his arm as he went to check on Cochise. The troop got organized and shortly after sun up they started on the trail. It would take the soldiers over a day to make it back to Tucson. McCoy had left a couple of the townspeople in charge but he didn't want to leave the town unguarded any longer than necessary. Tom and his little group along with McCoy pushed their horses a little harder. They would arrive just before dusk. They were at a walk to rest the horses and Tom had to smile at Cochise. The big horse had made a hard run to Agua Fria and on to Perdition. Then he carried Etta back to meet McCoy and the soldiers. Tom had pushed the horse trying to catch Texas Jack before he returned to Perdition. In spite of the hard riding and difficult trails Cochise didn't like being held at the slower pace of the other horses. "I know you want to streak up the trail and show everybody how fast you are," Tom said in a low voice as he leaned over Cochise's neck. "But take it easy. When we get back and get everyone settled I'll take you out for a run."