Billy 11

The freighters sat talking for a couple of hours before turning in for the night. There was plenty of speculation about who the men were and why they might want the boy but none of them had any solid information. One of the things that stood out in the conversation was the quality and style of saddles and rigging that the men were using. Several in the group were certain that they were of Mexican origin. The men were dressed in ordinary fashion. Their pistols though were what would be termed “fancy” by most of the men. There seemed to be silver inlaid on a couple of them and all had ivory or bone handles. Such things were rare on the frontier. Most firearms carried for everyday use were fairly common in their finish.

The only one of the men who had spoken sounded like he had some kind of accent. His words were very properly delivered. Tom said that he had heard similar speech in Santa Fe and San Antonio. He thought the men might have come from Mexico.

Billy mostly just listened and asked a few questions. His mind kept racing back over the past days searching for clues in what Tad had said. He knew there was bound to be something that would help him to find the boy. The men would have a good start on him and he might have to hunt for their trail. He had a good starting point where he found the horses at the river, but he would need to wait for enough light to be certain of their direction before heading after them. The men probably wouldn’t be looking for him. In fact, if they quizzed the boy and found that he had stowed away with the freight wagons, they might not expect anyone to be following them. That could work to his advantage.


Daylight found Billy kneeling on the south bank of the Canadian River. He had found where the men apparently had left the river heading south. He was examining the tracks closely to be certain that he could recognize them. After a time he was sure that he could recognize the six distinct sets of tracks of the horses. One of them appeared to be carrying extra weight. It must be the one that had Tad. The men could have taken Tom’s horse for the boy, but they probably wanted to reduce the chances of being followed. Tom would certainly have tried to get his horse back if they had stolen it.

Tom wanted to come along on the hunt for the boy. The freighters would most likely be able to handle the wagons without him. If it hadn’t been for his wound and the weakness from loss of blood, he would certainly have joined Billy. As it was though, he loaned Billy his extra saddle gun and some shells and wished him luck. Billy was on his own which was how he liked it.


The tracks were fairly easy to follow as they headed southeast, angling slightly away from the river. It looked like they were heading in the general direction of Wild Horse Lake or maybe toward Goodnight’s place. There was also the T Anchor south of Wild Horse Lake on Spring Draw. Any of them would be places to get water for the horses. Water still determined where a man could travel on these dry plains. He could carry enough for himself, but the horses had to drink and there were only so many places they could get water.

As he rode along, Billy continually scanned the horizon for riders. The country was fairly rough all the way to Wild Horse Lake. There were plenty of places where someone could hide unobserved and watch the back trail. Even though the country was beginning to be settled, there weren’t many people. A man could ride for days and not see any other riders unless he rode up to one of the scattered ranches. Most of the Llano was still wide open. The few outfits that were taking root were on the few water courses that crossed the plains.

There were a few head of cattle scattered in the draws but not much else to be seen. Occasionally an antelope or deer would stick its head up to watch as Billy passed, but mostly it was just jackrabbits to keep him company. The monotony began to dull his senses. It was easy to think about vigilance, but it became more difficult as the heat of the day began to soak into him. It had been a dry summer and the grasses were mostly a dull gray with a coating of dust on them.

The hoof prints continued in their course to the southeast. There was no sign that they had stopped for the night. That meant they had about a twelve hour head start. He might be making up a little time on them but not much. Their horses would tire after a while and need to be rested. He had two so he could switch out occasionally and spare his own. That would work to his advantage.

Back to the southwest a few clouds had begun to build. July wasn’t known for thunderstorms, but they did occasionally happen. Billy didn’t pay them much attention.
Noon passed and still there was no variation in the trail. They appeared to be heading toward Wild Horse Lake. Where they would go from there was anybody’s guess.

By mid-afternoon, Billy began to get concerned. He thought he knew their first destination, but feared he would lose their tracks if it rained. The clouds had continued to build and a massive thunderstorm had welled up virtually covering the southern sky. Heavy rain would wipe out any tracks and he would be left searching for their trail. He also didn’t relish the idea of being stuck out in a thunderstorm. The rain wasn’t a problem it was the hail and lightening that he dreaded.

Billy 10

There was a fire blazing and the cook putting together something for the crew to eat as Billy and the other three made it back to camp. It took a while to catch the mules in the dark and get them tethered, but it wasn’t long before everyone but the night guard was gathered around talking about the events of the day. Freighting was usually extremely boring work. Most of the freighters had seen action fighting Indians and in the war so they were getting worked up about going after the men who had taken the boy. Tom was the only casualty of the brief encounter and Billy wondered why.

As the men began to eat, it quickly got quiet except for the rattle of the tin plates and mugs. Eating was serious business for the men. They knew that on the Plains, a good meal was never a sure thing. It should be eaten when the opportunity presented itself, so they wasted no time.

Finally, as he handed the cook his plate, Billy said, “OK, Tom. What happened? How did you get shot?”

Tom said, “It was my own fault. They had us cold. They gathered up our weapons in a sack and hauled them off with them. They left them about a mile down the trail. Houston had already collected them and brought them back when you rode up. They got all of them except my spare saddle gun which was in my bedroll in the cook wagon. As they were leaving, I took a chance and pulled it but one of them shot me before I could get a bead on them. I’d swear he shot high intentionally. I think he just wanted to take me out of commission without hurting me too bad. He could have killed me.”

Billy was full of questions. “Tom, you’re going to have to tell me the whole thing. I need to figure out who these men are and why they’re after the boy. Tell me everything that happened since you left Tascosa.”

Tom said, “We were a couple of hours out of Tascosa when the boy stuck his head out of the wagon. Buried under those bones like he was, it must have been beating on him pretty good as the wagons bounced along the trail. I happened to be riding beside the wagon when he looked out and I grabbed him by the arm and asked him what he was doing stowing away in my wagon. He told me there were some men after him and he needed to get out of town. I told him that I normally didn’t put up with runaways, but if he’d behave I’d let him ride with us until night camp and then we could discuss his situation further.

“We made pretty good time with only a brief stop at noon to eat a bite and check harness. We didn’t see anybody until about mid afternoon. Travis was on the lead wagon and when I talked to him around 3 o’clock, he told me he thought we were being trailed off to the north. Normally I would have thought it was just some ranch hands, but after that boy told me he had someone after him, I figured it was worth keeping an eye on.

“I rode back along the line and told everyone to keep a sharp eye out but no one saw anything else all afternoon. Then, as we topped that hill back there, they came at us from out of nowhere. Like I told you earlier, there were six of them. They came at us from both sides. I never noticed it before, but that hill is perfect for an ambush. They could hide below the bluffs on either side until all of us were over the top. There’s no place we could turn. We were trapped.

“They let Travis in the lead wagon get even with them and then one man stepped out on his horse. He had a bandanna over his face and just pointed his pistol at us but didn’t say anything. The rest of them came from the sides and were staggered so they each covered a couple of wagons. No one had a chance to grab a rifle or anything. Coming off the hill we were all busy with brakes and lines and had our hands full so we just sat there while they rode along relieving us of our weapons.

“Then, the one who stepped out first told me to get the wagons moving to the flat which is where we are now. He had us circle and then gathered us in a group. Three of them kept us covered while the others unhitched the mules and stripped the harness. Then the one who spoke before, he must have been their leader, said for us to relax, he only wanted the boy. That boy was white as a sheet and kept saying ‘do something mister, help me.’ There wasn’t anything we could do. We just stood there while two of them drove the stock off. Then the other four headed out with the boy and the sack full of our guns. That’s when I tried my fool stunt and got shot. It was the leader. He didn’t even say a word after he shot me. One of his men stepped down and picked up my rifle and they headed off. They were about as cool as I’ve ever seen. That’s about it. Nothing much happened after that but what you already know.”

Billy - 9

Billy was headed up the trail for Tom’s wagons by mid-afternoon. He was in no hurry and hoped to catch up to them just before they camped for the night. As he rode up the trail he kept replaying the last few days with Tad in his mind. It was surprising how little he knew about the boy. Usually after several days on the trail you learned a lot about an individual – especially a kid. They liked to talk of their exploits. Not this one. It wasn’t that he was quiet – just evasive. Tad talked big, but the things he described sounded like they were out of a dime novel. Every time Billy had tried to draw him out, the boy had changed the subject.

Billy topped a rise in the trail and could see the wagons ahead of him. Something wasn’t right. The sun was just about to touch the horizon and the wagons were in the shadow of the rise on which he was standing but the light was good enough that he could tell something was wrong. He quickened his pace down the hill.

It occurred to him that there were no mules in sight and it looked like some of the mule skinners were missing. The ones that were there seemed to be hovering over something up against one of the wagons. He spurred to a lope and hurried to see what was happening.

Tom Fanning was lying against the wheel of one of the wagons with his head propped on a bedroll. There was a bloody bandage wrapped around his chest and he was breathing hard. Tom tried to sit up as Billy stepped down from his horse but didn’t seem to have much strength. It was obvious that he wasn’t in very good shape.

“What happened?” asked Billy.

The men all tried to talk at once until they heard Tom speak out in a raspy voice, “They got the boy, Billy.”

“How bad are you hurt, Tom?”

“I think it missed anything vital. I lost enough blood that I’m a bit weak. I’ll be all right though. Jake here tried to dig the bullet out and I think he did more harm than the bullet did. We got it wrapped up just before you rode in. Give me a little bit and I’ll be ready to go.”

“How long since it happened?”

“It’s probably been about an hour,” said Tom. “They ambushed us as we came over that hill up there. Six of them came at us – three from each side. They had us covered before anyone could get their rifle up.”

“Which way did they head?” asked Billy. “I’ll go after them.”

“No, you just hang on and hear me out. They drove off the mules and my horse. A couple of the boys went to look for them. I doubt they drove them very far.”

“Tom, I’ve got my horse and a spare. Why don’t you let me take one of your men with me and we’ll go see if we can find your stock before it gets dark. We’ll drive them back here for the night and then I’ll go after those men.”

“You go get the stock and then you’ll stay here tonight. You need to wait until daybreak to go after them. Those men are experienced and hard. You’ll end up getting killed in the dark if you don’t wait until morning.”

“OK, Tom. I’ll do it your way.”


Houston Davis, one of the mule skinners, rode out with Billy to find the mules and the drivers who had gone looking for them. It was no problem knowing which direction they had driven the animals, there was a wide trail to follow where the mules had been driven across the sandy ground. A couple of miles from the wagons, Billy and Houston came across the two walking drivers. They sent them back down the trail and hurried ahead while there was still enough light to see.

Another mile and they found the stock against the bank of the river where they had been abandoned by the men who had kidnapped Tad. The animals were quietly grazing on the clumps of grass along the banks. The men had apparently crossed the river to the south and left the animals on the near side. It only took a few minutes to gather them and head them back to the wagons.

They overtook the walking drivers when there was barely enough light to see. The mules ran on ahead while the four of them rode double the rest of the way.

Billy - 8

The first leg of the Dodge City trail ran northeast to Little Blue Station at Silas Maley’s farm on Bluff Creek. It would take about three days for the mule-drawn wagons to reach there. The entire trip to Dodge City would take several weeks for the wagons. Billy didn’t plan on staying with the wagons.

After replenishing his pack at the general store, Billy headed over to where Tom was waiting for him and said, “Tom, you go on ahead and I’ll catch up shortly. I want to visit with Henry a minute.”

As the noise of the leaving wagons died down, Billy turned to Henry and said, “Do you have a horse you can spare? I need to buy a horse and rigging before I head out.”


There was no rush for Billy to hurry and catch the wagons. At their slow pace of travel he could easily wait around Tascosa for most of the day before heading after them. He didn’t plan on taking that long but he did want to visit with a few folks around town and find out what he could about the men who had been asking about the boy. The logical place to start was McCormick’s saloon.

McCormick’s was one of the oldest of the several saloons that lined Tascosa’s streets. It was typical for the time. It had been built quickly of lumber freighted in from Las Vegas. Billy didn’t expect to find any customers at the early hour but he hoped to visit with one of the bartenders. It was likely they would be cleaning the place getting ready for another night of harvesting the hard-earned dollars from the local cowboys and hangers-on.

Billy was fortunate that Tuff Hardeman was there. Tuff was polishing off some glasses as Billy walked through the door. He looked up and said, “we’re closed.”

Billy replied, “Tuff, is that any way to treat somebody you haven’t seen in nearly a year?”

“Billy McCall. You sure must have picked up some bad habits to be coming in here at this hour of the morning. Where’ve you been?”

“New Mexico. I’ve been riding some for Pete Maxwell over at Fort Sumner. How are you?”

“Never better. Business is booming, there’s talk we’re going to be the county seat, and I even heard we might get a railroad. Can I buy you a drink?”

“No thanks, Tuff. I’m just lookin’ for some information.”

“OK. What do you want to know?”

“Has there been anybody new in town -- maybe someone askin’ lots of questions?”

“As a matter of fact there was,” said Tuff. “I didn’t know ‘em, but one of Tom’s freighters said he thought they were from over around Fort Griffin. They were asking about some boy. It wasn’t you was it? Heh, heh – you still got that baby face of yours hiding under that mustache.”

“Nope it wasn’t me. But I think I might know who they were looking for. Did they say why they were looking?”

“They said the boy stole something from them and they just wanted to get it back. They wouldn’t say what it was though.”


Billy visited with Tuff a little longer and then headed back over to the general store. Bob Bassinger might have heard something. Everyone that came to town eventually stopped at Bob’s store for some kind of supplies.

After quizzing him thoroughly, Billy learned that Bob didn’t have anything new to add to what he had learned at McCormick’s. The results at a couple of the other saloons and the livery were the same. The men hadn’t stayed in town long and no one seemed to know them. They couldn’t have been part of the Dodge City gang of Hoodoo Brown because most of them were well known and frequent visitors to Tascosa. The one thing that Billy did learn was that the men were well organized and on a couple of occasions made reference to el corazon de Cristo – the Heart of Christ.

Billy - 7

The quiet creaking of the barn door awakened Billy. He could see the furtive figure of Tad slipping silently out into the moonlight. He lay back on his blankets and thought about what might be going through the boy’s mind.

After giving him a couple of minutes to get away, Billy quietly rose and slipped on his boots. He wanted to see which way Tad went. The boy hadn't taken the mule so he had to be on foot.

Peering through the door he could see the shadowy figure slowly fading into the dark toward the river. It looked like he was headed to town. Tomorrow would be soon enough for Billy to try and locate him. There weren’t many places that Tad could hide. More than likely he would try to slip on a freight wagon heading for Dodge City. That would be the best place to try and find him.


Billy rose the next morning when he could hear the faint sounds of clattering pans in the adobe up the hill. Lucinda was up and about cooking breakfast. Soon there would be a call to come and get it but in the meantime Billy decided to slip down to the river and see if he could make certain which way Tad’s tracks led.

It took only a few minutes to see that the boy had definitely headed toward town. The crossing down stream was plenty shallow so it shouldn’t have been difficult for Tad to get over to the other side and into Tascosa. He headed up to the house for a breakfast of eggs, beans and tortillas. It sure was nice to have some good home cooking after being on the trail for the last couple of weeks.

After they had eaten, Juan asked, “How do you plan on finding him Billy?”

“Are there any freighters in town?” he asked in return.

“I think Fernandez may be there. He’s taking the last load of wool to Las Vegas. Tom Fanning is there too. He came in yesterday from south of here with a load of buffalo bones. He’ll be heading to Dodge City with them. That’s about it,” said Juan.

“It would probably be easier for him to slip in with Fernandez to Las Vegas but I have a hunch he’s headed for Dodge. I think I’ll see if I can find Fanning and have him watch out for the boy. I might even see if he’ll let me ride with him to Dodge. Is it OK if I leave that old mule with you? In fact he’s yours. Maybe you can put some meat on him.”


Finding Tom Fanning was no problem. There were five wagons loaded with the bleached white buffalo bones already hitched and lined up in front of the livery. Tom was bellering something about how long it took to shoe a mule to a mountain of a man that could only be Henry Kimball. Henry was the first white man to settle in Tascosa. He had set up shop in 1876 shortly after Romero completed his rambling adobe.

Billy walked up to Tom and said, “Hey, old man. You look like you’ve been robbing graves with all those bones.”

“Well, Billy McCall. How are you boy? I ain’t seen you since you got into that little scrape in Las Vegas a couple of years ago. What have you been up to?”

“I’ve been keeping my nose clean and my saddle polished Tom – just bouncing around a few outfits chasing cows,” replied Billy. “Can you walk over to the store with me a minute and let Henry finish his job without you yelling at him?”

“Sure, Billy. What’s up?”


The two walked down the street past McCormick’s saloon to the general store. Billy filled in Tom about Tad and asked if he’d seen the boy.

Tom said, “Yeah, I seen him. He doesn’t know I did but I seen him. He’s in that third wagon under a pile of bones. I thought I’d get up the trail a ways and then surprise him. I was gonna make sure he had a good walk back to town.”

“Tom, I think this boy is in some trouble and I want to help him. Is it all right if I tag along with you toward Dodge and we’ll flush him out tonight when we make camp?”

“Sure, Billy. Have you got your gear ready? I’d like to head out just as soon as Henry gets that mule shod.”

“Give me a few minutes here in the store Tom. I’m a little low on a couple of things but I’ll probably be ready before your mule is.”

Billy - 6

Tad reluctantly headed for the barn where they could hear him muttering and shifting things around.

Billy said, “What do you think Juan? Is he going to stay the night or make a run for it?”

“I think he will run for it. Then, what will you do? Will you go after him or let him make his own way?”

Billy thought a minute before he replied, “What can you tell me about these men who are looking for him?”

“Not much,” replied Juan. “Ben Sublette, the freighter, says he thinks they are part of The Dodge City Gang out of Las Vegas, New Mexico. He says there are a couple of bad hombres in the bunch.”

“It could be. They were ran out of Las Vegas just last month. I had heard they were headed for Mexico but they might have come this way. That Hoodoo Brown is sure a bad one. They were robbing stagecoaches and settlers on the old trail. Hmm,” said Billy. “I wonder why a bunch like that would be interested in the boy. Do you suppose he might have fallen in with them?”

“I doubt it,” said Juan. “More than likely he has something on them. Maybe he saw something they didn’t want him to see. Now tell me Billy, where did you find that boy?”

“I found him down on Spring Lake. I’ve been over at Fort Sumner working for Pete Maxwell.”

“Ah, and how is Doña Luz?”

“She is well, Juan. Didn’t you once work for Lucien?”

“I didn’t actually work for him, but I lived on his land. He would protect us and buy our wool and we would share part of it with him. Don Luciano was a good man. He’s been gone now – what? -- five years? I hope his son Pete is half the man he was.”

“I didn’t know Señor Maxwell, but Pete is a good man too. I helped him through the spring branding. He didn’t have much else to do so I cut loose from there and was headed over to casas amarillas. Pete said he had heard that Colonel Slaughter was driving a herd up from Big Spring and I was going to try to intercept him. When I got to Spring Lake I ran into the boy. I decided it would be better to head up here to Tascosa where I could leave the boy with somebody. Besides, maybe one of the big outfits around here is hiring.”

“Did he tell you why he was at Spring Lake?”

“He said he had been working for Charlie Goodnight and decided to light out for the Seven Rivers country. He claimed his horse stepped in a prairie dog hole and broke its leg. That’s why he was afoot. Every time I’d try to get more information out of him he would change his story. I knew from the start that he was hiding something, I just didn’t know what. He wasn’t even taking the most logical trail. He should have come through here and over to Las Vegas and then south down the Pecos to Anton Chico and Fort Sumner.”

Juan replied, “We still don’t know what he’s hiding Billy. We may never know. So, what will you do if he runs off during the night?”

“I think I’ll follow him if I can,” said Billy. “Once upon a time I needed someone to help me get through some trouble. Maybe I can repay the favor that was done for me by helping this boy.”

“Yes, I remember the story,” said Juan. “Maybe it is your fate to pass on to this boy the blessing that you received. Let’s turn in for the night. Tomorrow may be a long day.”

Billy - 5

The draw that Billy and Tad had been following passed just to the west of Juan Garcia’s barn. It was fairly shallow by the time it reached the river at the base of the slope and could easily be seen from Juan’s adobe which perched on a slight rise that kept it above the flood plain. Juan was standing on the porch watching as Billy and the boy made their way to the corrals and led their mounts to the water trough.

With the sun setting behind them, it was difficult for Juan to see them well but he called out, “Billy, is that you?”

“Yeah, Juan, it’s me. Do you mind if we turn these flea bags into your corral?”

“Go ahead,” he called back. “Wash up. Lucinda has supper almost ready.”


Billy looked at the boy and said, “Tad, let’s get some grub in us. I don’t see those riders anywhere around so maybe they were lookin’ for somebody else. What do you think?”

“I think I’m hungry. That piece of jerky didn’t last very long. I hope they have something besides beans and tortillas,” he replied.

“Now you be careful of your attitude. These are nice people. They don’t have much but they’re willing to share. Be sure and show some gratitude for whatever they offer. Otherwise, you can have another piece of jerky and muddy river water for supper.”


The two made their way up to the house where Billy introduced Tad to Juan and his family. Besides his wife Lucinda, there were five children. The oldest was Juanita who would celebrate her Quincienera this year. She was turning into a beautiful young lady who would have all the boys calling on her in a few months. Billy thought he might call on her too.

Lucinda had Billy and Tad join Juan at the table while she had the children sit on blankets near the cooking area. She and Juanita served the men large plates of beans with a choice piece of mutton and stacks of tortillas before joining the children. It wasn’t necessarily customary for the women and children to eat separately. It was a matter of space. The home was small and there wasn’t enough room at the table for everyone to sit.


When they had finished eating Juan said to Billy and Tad, “Let’s go out on the porch where it is cool and we can talk.”

After a pleasant exchange of news, Juan looked at Billy and said, “Some men have been in town asking about a boy that sounds a lot like Tad here. They say he stole something of theirs and they want it back. They are offering a reward of $50 in gold.”

Billy looked at Tad and said, “OK, Tad. It’s time you came clean with me. Are those men looking for you?”

Tad said, “I didn’t steal nothing Billy. Honest. I don’t know what they want.”

“Come on Tad. We’re nearly partners after riding together for four days. You’re gonna have to tell me why they’re looking for you.”

“I can’t Billy. If they find out I told anybody they’ll kill me.”

“Told anybody what? What is it you can’t tell or they’ll kill you. How can I help you if I don’t know what’s going on,” said Billy.

“I just can’t tell you,” said Tad, “that’s all.”

Juan looked at Billy with a wink and said, “Billy, maybe it’s none of our business. Those men will be in town tomorrow. We’ll just take Tad to them and be done with it. Fifty dollars is a lot of money.”

“You know Juan, maybe you’re right. We could split it. Maybe it’s a good thing I couldn’t get that old pastorale to keep him.”

Tad was fidgeting as the two talked. It was obvious that he wanted to tell them what was going on but was afraid.

Billy looked at Tad and said, “I’ll tell you what, you sleep on it tonight and in the morning you can decide whether to tell us or not. You and I will bunk in the barn.”

Juan said, “Tad, why don’t you go get settled in for the night. There’s plenty of loose straw in the barn that you can spread your blankets on. I want to visit with Billy for awhile before we turn in for the night.”

Billy - 4

Billy sat down in the shade of a Hackberry that had taken root in the side of the hill. He could see the riders in the distance and he could see the silvery line of the Canadian river off to the north. It would be awhile before the riders reached the jumble of adobe buildings on the north side of the river where Casimero Ramirez had settled in 1876 and Plaza Atascosa was born. That was the same year that Billy had left Missouri.

It was also the same year that Charlie Goodnight had moved his herd into the Palo Duro Canyon. Some of the cowboys said that Goodnight was forming a Stockman’s Association. He and the other ranchers were tired of losing cattle to the little ranchers who they claimed were branding mavericks from their herds. There was certainly some truth to their claim. How else could a cowboy working for $25 per month end up owning a spread covering several thousand acres?

Just a couple of miles to the west of the ford and on the south side of the river, Billy could see Juan’s place. There wasn’t much to it, just a small adobe with a barn and corrals for his sheep.

Juan had followed Ramirez out of New Mexico to graze the open lands along the Canadian river. Romero was a Comanchero and leading citizen of Mora, New Mexico, before moving his herds to the Texas Panhandle and establishing a new town. He brought around 3,000 sheep with him and they had now increased to almost 5,000 head. His relationship with the local ranches was never secure, but they had learned to live in peace together. There was still plenty of open range available for grazing.

As Billy watched, two more riders headed south across the ford out of Tascosa. It looked like they were going to intercept the riders that he was watching. It seemed strange to Billy. Normally in this open country you didn’t run across many other riders unless you were on one of the main trails. The trails here ran mainly along the river except for the big freight trail headed north out of Tascosa to Dodge City.

The riders he had been watching picked up their pace a little when they saw that they were being met. It looked as though they were expecting it. They quickly drew together and the four of them appeared to be having a heated discussion. He could see the riders that he had been watching pointing in his general direction. It didn’t look good.

It wasn’t long before the group broke up. The pair that he had watched were headed back the direction from which they came. The other two riders headed off to the west up the river. Billy couldn’t think of any reason why, but it looked as though they might be going to circle around him so that he and the kid would be trapped. You could probably chalk it up to four years of wariness over his past, but Billy had found his intuition on such things was usually pretty good.

Billy scrambled back down the slope to where Tad was standing and watching him. He said, “I think those riders are looking for someone and it could be us. Do you know any reason they might have for that?”

Tad looked a little pale but said, “No. I can’t imagine why anyone would be looking for me. Are you an outlaw or something?”

“No, I’m not an outlaw and it may be nothing, but I think we’d better follow this draw and try to stay out of sight. Maybe we can make it to Juan’s before anyone spots us. I’m not in any mood to be answering a bunch of questions from those fellows if they do come across us. Get on that mule and lets get moving.”

The draw provided a small amount of cover for the two as they headed down the slope toward Juan’s place. If their luck held they might not be spotted. It was getting close to sundown and in another thirty minutes the light would start to fade. If those riders weren’t looking for them there would be no harm done. If they were, it would be better to be closer to town so that someone might see them if the riders meant harm.

As they got lower on the slope the danger of being seen would be from behind. If the riders were to get up on the bluff, they would be able to look back toward the river and see them in the draw.

Billy couldn’t help but wonder about the strange behavior of the riders. He couldn’t think of why anyone would be looking for him but he wasn’t sure about the kid. Tad’s behavior had been a little bit suspicious. Why had he been all alone when the horse he had been riding broke his leg? He was too young to be out by himself without someone missing him.

Billy had tried to get the boy to tell him a little about himself but hadn’t had much luck. He was hiding something. His story was consistent, but any time he pressed the boy with questions, he would change the subject. Billy felt sure there was a connection between those riders and the boy. He just needed time to sort it out to make sure he landed on the right side of the issue. He didn’t want to be turning the boy over to someone that meant him harm if it wasn’t well deserved. This country was still pretty lawless. There wasn’t much telling whether the riders had honorable intentions or otherwise.

Billy - 3

Billy had been keeping back from the river in order to avoid anybody that might be taking the main trail. It wasn’t that he was worried about being seen, he had just formed the habit of avoiding a chance encounter with someone who might have known him in Missouri. He had changed considerably since those days. His mustache had grown and he had acquired the style of dress that the local cowboys wore rather than what was normal for Jefferson City. Besides, it had been four years since he left on the run. It wasn’t likely that anyone who knew him then would be able to identify him now. They probably all thought he was dead.

The Texas Panhandle and New Mexico were good places in which to get lost. Perhaps that is why so many individuals whose past wouldn’t stand close scrutiny chose to drift into the area.

It had only been a few years since the Kiowa and Comanche Indians had owned this country. That was before the hunters had wiped out the buffalo. There were still bones scattered all over the prairie where hunters had stripped the hide and left the carcasses to be food for the wolves and coyotes. The only buffalo left were over in the Palo Duro Canyon where Colonel Goodnight had saved a few as pets. Now, what few Indians were left were over at Fort Sill in Indian Territory.

Billy angled off down the slope toward the river. He looked back occasionally to make sure Tad was still following. The kid had a way of drifting off – like he was in another world part of the time. Either his imagination was running wild or he was reliving something from his past. It happened at night too. The first night they had camped after he found Tad, the kid woke up in the middle of the night yelling and fighting at shadows. It unsettled Billy. It took a little while to calm him down and even then, it seemed that Tad didn’t want to get too far away.

It was strange thought Billy. He hadn’t wanted the kid tagging along with him but knew he couldn’t leave him out on the plains without a horse or water. But now, he was beginning to like him. It would be sad to leave him in Tascosa, but he didn’t want to have to take care of him. The kid would be better off in a town living with some family rather than drifting around from ranch to ranch as Billy had done for the last couple of years. He needed a home.

Tad came jogging up on the mule and said, “Billy, I think there’s somebody back there.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Billy.

“There’s somebody back there. I keep seeing dust over to the east. It’s maybe a wagon or something.”

“Well let’s get up on that hill so we can see. I don’t need somebody following us. You never know what kind of characters you might meet out here, but it’s probably just a couple of LX hands wondering why we’re crossing their ranch.”

Billy headed to just below the crest of a low rise and looked back to the southeast. Sure enough, there were a couple of riders drifting along. It didn’t look like they were following him but their trails would cross in another mile or so. They were probably just heading into town the same as he was. It might be a good idea to just stay out of sight until he could decide what they were up to.

He turned and walked his horse back down to the bottom of the draw where Tad was waiting.

“I don’t know who they are but let’s just take a break right here while they ride on past. We’re not in any big hurry. I guess Juan’s daughter will just have to live without me a couple of extra hours,” he told Tad.

There was a small grove of cottonwoods about a hundred yards ahead. They walked their horses down into the low spot where water sometimes stood and dismounted. Billy pulled out a piece of jerky and pitched it to Tad.

“Why don’t you sit here under these trees a bit, Tad. I’m going to walk up the hill there where I can watch those riders. I need to stretch my legs anyway. I’ll be back shortly.”

Tad said, “Billy, why can’t I walk up there with you. I don’t want to sit here by myself.”

“No,” Billy replied, “you wait here. I’ll be back.” With that, he headed up the hill to get a better look.

Billy - 2

OK. Here's another piece of "Billy."

Billy McCall had grown up in Central Missouri in the aftermath of the War Between the States. He never knew his father. His mother told him his pa had died at Shiloh. Jess Oliver, one of the neighbor boys, told him that was a lie. He said old man McCall had rode off with Quantrill but didn’t last long. He heard Quantrill shot him for being drunk when he was supposed to be standing watch. Billy didn’t want to believe Jess but, deep in his heart he knew it was true. Jess wore two black eyes for a week over the remark anyway. If old man Stewart hadn’t broke up the fight Billy might have killed Jess. He didn’t take kindly to somebody running his old man down like that. It just wasn’t right.

It wasn’t long after that before Billy’s mom took up with a slick fellow named Carson that drifted into town one day. He spent more money on her in a week than his pa had in a year. Women take kindly to that kind of treatment. No wonder she was struck by him.

Things went all right for a while. Carson spent most of his time in town gambling with some of the locals. But, it wasn’t long until they got tired of losing what little money they had to him. The pickings in Missouri were mighty slim after the war. Even in a big place like Jeff City where they had moved so his mother could find work.

One night Carson came home drunk and beat Billy’s mom. She was hurt bad and Billy didn’t know what to do. He tried to get the sheriff to do something but was told that since they had been shackin’ up together there wasn’t anything he could do.

Billy decided that if the law wouldn’t take care of it, he would.

Two nights later, Billy stole a pistol from old man Scheller and caught Carson coming out the back of Tom’s saloon. He was so scared he emptied the gun into the gambler before he knew what he was doing. He dropped the gun and ran.

He knew the hills better than the law. He also had kinfolk scattered all over the hills in that part of the state. It wasn’t much trouble to hide out for a couple of weeks until things cooled down. But, he knew he would never be able to go back.

Late one evening old Aunt Clara brought word that his mother had died. It seems the beating that she had got caused some sort of hemorrhage and she just seemed to fade away. The law was looking for Billy and she thought he ought to leave the state. He’d already had one uncle hung and she didn’t want to see him end up the same way.

So, Billy left Missouri on the run.

It was pretty scary at first, but, at fifteen he was considered grown and it wasn’t hard to make his way. There were always odd jobs to be had.


Tad couldn’t stand the silence. “Hey, Billy, what’s Tascosa like? I ain’t never been there.”

“It’s a nice place, Tad. Why, I hear it’s even gonna be the county seat,” replied Billy. “It’s the shipping point for all these big ranches around here. There’s always something to do. Have you heard about the Lincoln County War?”

“Yeah, isn’t that down south of here? I heard somebody named Tunstall got killed.”

“Yep,” said Billy. “Have you heard of Billy the Kid?”

“Who hasn’t! I heard he killed 40 men!” said Tad.

“Well, he was in Tascosa just last year. He had a mare that could run like the wind. He put her up against the best from all the strings around here. He cleaned up on the bets until nobody would run against him.”

“Do you know Billy the Kid?” asked Tad.

“Nope, but I seen him. He even gave me a dollar just for holdin’ his hat while he raced,” said Billy with a grin. “Old Juan didn’t like it much. He said I’d better quit hangin around that crowd or I’d end up hangin’! I don’t know why but I listened to the old man.”

Billy

A few years ago I started on a story -- maybe it was going to be a novel. I want to share part of it with you. Feedback would be greatly appreciated. It's called "Billy."

“Billy, ain’t we ever gonna get to Tascosa?” asked the skinny, blonde-headed kid on the boney mule plodding along the dry wash.

Billy didn’t answer. He just touched spurs to the sorrel’s sides and trotted out ahead so he wouldn’t have to listen.

It had been a long day. The dust caked on his face was streaked with little muddy rivers where the sweat ran down from beneath his hatband. His shirt was heavy with the sweat and dust that clung to him. July in the Texas Panhandle wasn’t his idea of a holiday.

The little mule hurried to catch up to the sorrel and in doing so, tried to beat the tailbone off the kid clinging to his back. He couldn’t have been more than twelve…the kid that is. The mule must have been going on twenty. It was hard to tell. There wasn’t much left of him but skin and bones.

Billy had found the boy wandering in a draw on the south side of the river four days back. He was scared and hungry. He had tried to give him to a Mexican sheep-herder a couple of days later but the pastorale wouldn’t take him. Well, at least he had traded that old pistol he had found for the mule so Tad wouldn’t have to ride double anymore.

That’s what the kid called himself, Tad. Said it was short for Tadpole. He didn’t know what his given name was. He’d been called Tad as long as he could remember. Until Billy quizzed him about it, he had thought that was his only name.

“Hey, Billy, wait up!” called Tad. “This ole mule’s gonna kill me if you don’t slow down.”

Billy pulled up and waited for him. He couldn’t help but like the kid. He wasn’t that much older himself. His nineteenth birthday was just last month. But, it seemed like he’d been on his own for most of his life.

If they could keep the pace up, they should be into Tascosa sometime before noon tomorrow. He wanted to make Juan’s place by nightfall though, so he was a little impatient with Tad. The boy was cramping his style. He planned on ditching him in Tascosa. Too bad that old sheepherder wouldn’t take him.

“Tad, if you don’t hurry up I might just leave you out here,” said Billy. “Old Juan has a daughter that oughta be ‘bout grown by now. I’ve been hankerin’ to see her since I left here last year. Besides, Juan owes me a favor or two for getting’ him out of a scrape last time I was here.”

“But, Billy, I thought we were going to Tascosa. I don’t want to stay with some Greaser!” griped Tad.

“Just you hush. Me and Juan go back a long time. Why he’s been about as white to me as any man I ever met. Don’t you go bad-mouthin’ him like that again!”

Billy turned and headed off down the wash. He was thinking about the possibilities that a pretty little dark-eyed senorita presented when Tad piped up again, “Billy, you wouldn’t leave me would ya? I ain’t got nobody I can turn to. What would I do?”

Billy thought on that one awhile and then said, “I guess you could get a job or somethin’. Some store clerk or saloon keeper could use a boy like you.”

“I don’t want to work for no saloon keeper Billy. The last one like to have killed me,” said Tad. “I want to be a cowboy. I can’t live in no town!”

Billy laughed at that. A cowboy on a twenty year old mule. Hah! That would be the day. He could just see Tad riding up to Bates at the LX telling him he wanted to cowboy.

“What you laughin’ at Billy? I ain’t said nothing funny,” growled Tad. “I’m old enough to chase cows. Why, if I had me a real horse I’d show you what kind of cowboy I was. I bet I can out cowboy you!”

That got Billy’s attention. “Tad, if you’re such a hotshot cowboy, how come you to be afoot out in the middle of nowhere?” asked Billy.

“I told you what happened,” Tad said. “My horse broke his leg and dumped me. Then I had to walk. I was looking for the river ‘cause I knew there’d be someone along sooner or later to give me a ride. Just my bad luck it was you!”

“Well,“ thought Billy, “at least he was consistent.” He’d stuck by his story for four days now. Although he knew in his gut it wasn’t true, he humored the boy. He figured it more likely he’d escaped from some trader.

“Tad,” said Billy, “you’d better quit cussin’ your luck. If it hadn’t been for me you’d probably be starved or dead by now. Who’d you say you were working for?”

“I didn’t,” said Tad. “I’m between jobs right now. My last job was for Charlie Goodnight.”

“Tell me about Charlie,” said Billy.

“Did I tell you about Dodge City?” asked the boy. “I seen Bat Masterson himself shoot up a whole passle of trail hands one night. Didn’t even break a sweat!”

“I didn’t ask about Dodge City, I asked you about Charlie Goodnight.” The boy was exasperating Billy. He never could stick to a subject. He didn’t figure on ever getting a straight story from him.

They rode on awhile in silence. The clump of horse hooves in the sandy soil was the only sound. A hawk circled high overhead riding the currents. Nothing but skimpy grass and sage between them and the horizon.

Occasionally they could glimpse the red and silver snake of the Canadian river off to their left as they wound along and through the little draws and gullies that sloped off toward the river. Sometimes the scenery was broken by a few scrub cedars clinging to the red hills but, even those were sparse.

If it wasn’t for the water, this could barely be called cow country except down in the bottom and in some of the bigger draws. The real grass was up on the Llano. Too bad there weren’t more creeks up there. This would be some kinda cow country. Grass as far as you can see.

“They say people used to get lost up there and wander for days in a circle before some Comanche would find ‘em and scalp ‘em,” Billy said.

“Huh?!” said Tad. “What are you talkin’ about Billy?”

“Never mind, I guess I was just thinking out loud.”