the Gentleman Gunfighter - C. F. Allison (ebook reader with android os TXT) 📗

his usual corner table and was waiting for enough people to sit down for a card game. Clay got a bottle and walked over and sat with him for some conversation while they both waited for more players to show.

Sheriff Masterson came into the saloon with two of his deputy’s. He walked directly over to the table where Doc and Clay were sitting. “Clay Allison, I’m here to arrest you for the killing of that farmer we had to cut down this morning. You need to surrender you guns and come with me.” Clay and Doc looked at each other with grins on their faces. Doc looked at the sheriff and said. “Now Bat. Why did you find it necessary to wait for Wyatt to leave town to try this? Could it be he told you the matter was settled? And don’t you think the playing field is a little uneven? You may want to get a couple of more deputies’ to make it a fair fight. I promised Wyatt I wouldn’t kill you, but I don’t believe this gentleman has given any such word.” Clay interrupted with a few comments of his own. “Sheriff, I don’t think I like you, and I don’t think I’ll let you arrest me today. In fact I think you might want to leave town until the real law gets back for your own protection. If I see you again I’m just going to half to kill you. Now git!” Clay drew his pistols and began shooting knocking the six guns out of their holsters on the gun belts of all three law men. The men ran out of the bar and left town to go find Marshal Earp in fear that Clay might decide to start aiming for something a little more essential to them.

Clay got back to the ranch late Sunday night played some cards with John and the others before turning in. Morning came and Mr. McNulty sent for Clay. “I heard you got into a little bit of a hassle with Bat Masterson over the weekend.” He said to Clay as he walked into the main house. “I need you to go on an errand for me. It’ll probably be best for you to be scarce around here for a few days anyhow.” Clay began to object but Mr. McNulty was not hearing any of it. “I’m not going to have one of my best men in jail or dead when we start this drive. I need you to go to New Mexico for me and that’s final.” Finally Clay agreed to go but he insisted on stopping off in town to let everyone know where he was going in case Bat wanted to look him up he said.

Clay had gotten settled in and was enjoying a card game before handling his business for Mr. McNulty in the morning. The saloon doors swung open and in walked a familiar face. Clay knew this man from his past. He had beaten the man’s uncle almost to death while escaping from the union army a couple of years back. Zachary Colbert was a ferryman at the Red River crossing Clay had used to escape. Clay later found out the ferry operator gave pursuing soldiers direction of his trail. Chunk Colbert was a mouthy and disrespectful sort of man and had vowed revenge in the name of his uncle. He was always rude to the ladies and mean to the kids. Clay could hardly control his anger when he saw how Chunk did. He even once walked up Chunk and asked him, “How are you when they come with a little muscle?” So Chunk didn’t much care for Clay either. Chunk was already known for killing seven men with his gun skills, and thought Clay would make number eight.

“Pull yourself up a chair Colbert.” Clay said to the man as he approached to table. “Have a drink and speak your mind.” The man sat down and poured a drink. “What brings you to this neck of the woods Allison?” Colbert asked. “You know how much I want to kill you.” He said. “Yeah I know, and my body’s all a tremble.” Clay answered back. “I just figured we’d get a drink and a steak before we go to killing.”

The day passed by and the two went to the diner for a steak dinner. As they were eating Clay suggested they meet in the street first thing in the morning. “Nah, I’m tired of looking at you now.” Colbert said going for his gun. He barely had time to finish speaking before Clay responded by putting a bullet between the would be killers eyes. Luckily for Clay that time his adversary’s gun hit the bottom side of the table and went off prematurely. If it hadn’t been for that, Clay would have been caught off guard and probably killed.

The Sheriff and his deputy’s rushed in with their guns in hand. He closed on Clay asking what happened. Clay explained they were drinking and eating and discussing when to have a gunfight to end their feud once and for all. “If you two hated each other so bad what the hell did you buy him supper for?” Clay looked back at the Sheriff and simply answered, “I didn’t want to send him to hell on an empty stomach.” All the Sheriff could do was shake his head in disbelief and say. “Damn if I aint heard it all now.” Clay sat back down and finished his steak as the deputy’s hauled out the body to take to the Mortician.

It was almost sun down when Clay rode past the entrance of the ranch. He was returning with the two thoroughbred horses that Mr. McNulty had sent him after. They were fantastic specimens of horse flesh but Clay really didn’t understand why he had to go get them. ‘I guess the old goat just worries about me.’ He thought to himself. He turned the horses over to the stable hand and went to the bunk house.

“Well did Chicken and his Chicks come looking for me after I left?” He asked John as he sat down to eat some stew. “No, but Marshal Earp came thru and said he would consider it a personal favor if you’d not scare Bat anymore. He said he’d appreciate you not killing him either.” John replied laughingly. Clay just laughed and finished his stew.

Morning came and Mr. McNulty was waiting outside after everyone had finished breakfast. He divided the men up into four crews and told all of them they were going to be putting their herd in with another herd from the adjoining ranch. The men were assigned the task of rounding up the remaining strays and then moving the whole herd to the west end of the ranch property. The Siringo ranch was going to be moving their herd to the east side of their property and the two herds would be made one. He told them the drive was set to start three weeks from Monday.

The Siringo Ranch had around fifteen hundred head of cattle of its own. Adding that to the two thousand head of Mr. McNulty was going to make for a sizable drive. Mr. Siringo didn’t have as many cowhands as Mr. McNulty did so the drive wasn’t going to be easy. But everyone felt they could handle the job.

The crews dispersed and went to work as they were told. Clays crew had John, Mario, Jack, Ricky and couple of others. Hoyt and Tex were two of the cow hands Clay had become good friends with. Besides that, those two were suckers at the poker table but couldn’t resist a game. They spent all week rounding up strays and moving them to the west end of the ranch. When Friday came a rider approached the crew from the ranch with word that Mr. McNulty said for them to take the weekend off and a skeleton crew was going to watch the herd and they would get the next weekend off. The rider told Clay it was up to them who got the first weekend of his crew.

Clay enjoyed the quiet with Mario and Ricky as the weekend rolled by. Not much to do but sit around and play cards by the camp fire light, help Mario some more with his hand gun skills, and talk about things done in the past. Ricky was the one asking all the questions. Clay decided that this would be the one and only time he would talk about his past to anyone. Besides he’d always heard it was good for the soul to tell of your own wrongs to another and he knew these boys wouldn’t tell anyone else. Even if they did, who ever they told would dismiss their stories as tall tales.

“Who’s the first man you ever kilt?” Ricky asked Clay wanting to hear all about it. Clay, not wanting to disappoint his young audience thought for a minute before answering. “The first men I ever killed was during the war. My squad was shooting at their squad. We ran out of bullets and had to fight hand to hand. That was when I found out I was really good with a knife. It’s a feeling I hope you boys never have to feel. Knowing you took another mans life. It turned me cold to the way other people feel and that’s a hollow living.” He told the boys. “I know that’s not exactly the story you had in mind so I will tell you about a man named Johnson. I had started myself a little spread outside of Cimarron with three hundred head that I had earned as a bonus from the L.G. Coleman and Irvin Lacy. This guy was trying to steal my water rights and I wasn’t having it. We decided to dig a grave that the two of us would get in with our knives and settle it like gentleman. We agreed the winner would fill the hole in on the loser.” Ricky’s eyes were wide and full of anticipation as he listened. “Wow” was all he could say as Clay kept talking.

“Of course you know once you’ve killed a man, you have to grow eyes in the back of your head to watch for his friends. After I buried that water thieving scamp I wound up getting in several fights. Cut up a lot of men. Got cut by a couple of them. Shot a few men and sent ‘em to their maker. But I always managed to keep upright. I always had better morals then them I shot down or whooped. In fact I wrote a news paper once and got ‘em straight. They said I was a vicious killer and robber and I told ‘em real quick. ”I never robbed nobody, and I never killed any man that didn’t need killing." I also told ‘em where they could find