The Man From Eagle Creek
Chapter Twenty
Mr. Hollister rode into Omaha with Tom. They first went to the
town marshal's office to see if he had seen a one armed man
around town. The marshal said he hadn't and asked two of his
deputies that sat there if the had seen a one armed man in town
lately.
Both men said they hadn't. When Tom and Mr. Hollister left for
the telegraph office, one deputy turned to the other.
"You know, we hardly ever see injun's here any more, that tall
one that just left makes the second one I've seen in the last two
days."
"I saw that other one you're talkin' bout too. He was riding a
Paint horse and was with a big white man with a heavy coat on. I
remember thinkin' why would a man be wearin' a heavy coat in this
warm air."
"Yep, that must have been the same one. I didn't see anyone with
him, but did see the injun on the Paint. He had one feather
braided into his hair on the side of his head."
"Yep, same one."
At the railroad station, Mr. Hollister sent a telegraph message
to Sheriff Keyes in Newton. He told Tom that it could be a while
before they heard back. If the sheriff was out of his office,
they would have to either find him or leave the message in his
office for him to find.
Tom wanted to get away, he was tired of being around people. He
needed to ride out on the open plains and be alone. He needed to
sit as the chiefs and medicine men did and think this out. His
thoughts were all tangled up and running into each other as he
tried to think WHY.
Mr. Hollister left Tom at the station and rode back to the
ranch. He sat in the shade of the train station, his horse
standing next to him.
He took out his flute and played it soft and sweet as he sat
thinking of the days past when he and Sally Mae had traveled
together. The times they laughed and the times they made love.
His heart was heavy and his mind was hard. He made a vow to kill
whoever it was that took her life.
Tom let his mind wander back to last night and this morning. He
knew Sally Mae was alive this morning when he got up, she rolled
over when he got up from the bedroll. He should have stayed with
her, she would be alive now.
Tom shook his head, he needed to stop this, there was a killer
out there and he intended to find him. There was something
nagging his thoughts about this morning, he kept thinking back to
the camp and what he saw. It was all a blur now, he couldn't make
sense of his thoughts.
Tom decided to ride back down to the lake when he got an answer
from Sheriff Keyes.
Tom's mind was in a whirlwind of thoughts, he closed his eyes and
tried to make it all go away for a minute so he could think
straight. Tom felt the hand on his shoulder and jumped sideways
with his Colt in his hand.
The telegraph operator jumped back away from him, scared the
injun was gonna shoot.
"Injun, here's the telegraph message you were waiting on. You
want me to read it to you?"
Tom snatched the paper from his hand.
`Tom Cooper Omaha, Nebraska stop
Sam Wilson and Bo released by judge stop
Charges dropped stop
Sentenced to time served stop
Sheriff F. Keyes Newton, Nebraska stop
Tom read the message over and over. Now he was sure that Sam
Wilson and his friend Bo were to blame for Sally Mae's death.
Tom thanked the telegraph operator and swung to his big horse.
Never before had he ridden this way. Not the day of the races at
Dale Canady's, not the days he rode wildly across the plains.
Never before.
Tom dug the heels of his moccasins in the big horses' flanks and
felt him stretch out in long strides. Out on the open trail he
bumped his heels against him again and the horse responded with
another burst of speed.
After letting him run for miles like this, Tom reached up and
patted his horse on the neck and he slowed to a fast lope as they
raced back south to the campsite by the lake.
The trees and the bushes along the road were but a blur in Tom's
eyes as his mind was already at the lake. He was searching in his
mind for what it was that he saw, but couldn't recall.
Tom slid from the saddle in a run as they slowed at the sandy
bank of the lake. He walked slowly to the place where his bedroll
had been, there the sand was smooth and packed from the weight of
his and Sally Mae's bodies. Tom walked lightly around the camp,
looking for any sign the two of them didn't cause or leave behind
in their stay here.
His eyes welled up in tears as he pictured the body of his friend
lying there in the cold bedroll. Shaking his head, he walked a
wider circle. He came to some small bushes a few feet from the
spot where they had slept. Tom looked closely around and under
the bushes.
There it was, there was a footprint in the soft sand, and he saw
more where the person had walked closer to the bedroll. Tom saw a
hand print in the sand just in front of two footprints that were
deeper than the others. This must have been where they crouched
down to look the camp over. He noticed something else, a small
hollowed out place in the sand. Tom squatted and looked at this
strange shallow hole.
He walked around to stand beside the foot prints, not wanting to
disturb them until he knew what had happened here. Squatting down
in the same manner as the footprints, feet apart, he leaned
forward, putting his left hand in the sand with fingers spread.
The other mark in the sand was about two feet from the handprint.
Was that a knee that pressed here? Too small, maybe the person
had stepped forward with the toe of his right boot then stepped
back. Tom wasn't sure, he decided to go look at the place where
he found his horse.
Tom walked out to the place where the grass was still pressed to
the ground, he could see where his horse had pawed with his front
feet to try and get his front legs under himself. He picked up
the bolo and looked it over. It had some markings on the braided
leather strap, but they were faded as if from use and age. He
would keep it in case something came up later. He looked around
the place in a wider circle.
Tom saw a place where someone stood with a horse. Was this where
the person first dismounted?
He looked closer, the footprints were also in the sandy soil near
another bush. MOCCASINS.
Who would be here in moccasins, he had not walked out here when
he'd freed his horse. Tom stood staring at the signs he had
found, trying to put them together.
His horse walked over to the bushes, sniffed and put his nose on
the air with his lips twisted and working like crazy. He smelled
a mare here. This was the way they had gotten his horse out of
the way, they had brought a mare in heat out here.
His stud just followed his male instincts and walked into a
trap. They had stood to one side of where the mare had been tied,
and threw the bolo at the studs' front feet, once he stumbled
they wrapped his hind legs quickly to keep him from getting up
again. He would have died here on the ground if Tom hadn't freed
him when he did.
Tom walked with his horse back to the campsite once more. It hurt
him to see this place now, but he had to be sure of what he had
seen. He looked all of it over again and again, then he walked
back over to where the bedroll had been laid out. There next to
where the edge of the bedroll had been he saw the same mark in
the sand again. What had made it, was it a large stick of some
kind?
Tom sat on the ground near where Sally Mae had died, he played
the flute as he felt her spirit in the air. The sounds drifted
out over the waters of the lake, the sounds of the birds and the
wind stopped now. The soft crying sounds that came from the flute
were alone in the still air. The sounds of the nature were silent
as Tom played the sad music that told of his young friend's
death. Tears ran down Tom's face onto the flute. Now the flute
cried softly out across the waters of big lake to touch a
friend's soul.
Looking the site over once again he walked out to his horse and
swung to the saddle. Tom let his big horse set his own pace back
to Omaha. They made good time and he went straight to the
marshal's office. The marshal was gone for the day but one of the
deputies that had been here earlier was on duty.
"I remember you Injun, you were here with Mr. Hollister today,"
He said.
"Yes deputy I was, we were asking about a one armed man and no
one had seen one lately. I have another question. Did you see
another Indian here in the last two or three days?"
"Sure did Injun, my buddy and I were talking after you left, that
we don't get many here anymore, and you were the second one to be
here this week."
"Tell me what did he look like, other than being an Indian?"
"He wasn't near as tall as you, he wore moccasins and leather
breeches like you. He had one feather braided into his hair on
the left side of his head. He wore a hand gun but not a fancy rig
like you got. He wore a beaded headband too."
"Was there anyone with him?"
"I'm not sure, there was a man on horse back near him."
"When was the last time you saw this Indian?"
"Not long before you and Mr. Hollister came into town, that would
have been about noon I reckon."
"Thanks deputy, you've been a big help."
Tom walked out of the marshal's office and his horse perked his
ears up. He had already swung to the saddle and was about to ride
off when the deputy came out the door and waved for him to stop.
"My friend told me this morning that he saw the injun and there
was a big man with him wearing a heavy coat, if that helps any."
"Sure deputy, that makes sense to me now. You said you saw him
earlier today, was he here in town?"
"He was riding west as I was coming on duty this morning."
"Deputy you need to run for marshal, you got a good eye for
detail," Tom said and waved as he rode out of town headed west.
`That makes me think that maybe Sam Wilson was here, maybe he was
the big man the deputy was talking about. Maybe he hired the
Indian to find me.' Tom thought as he rode west.
He came to the last streetlamp and stopped under it. Tom pulled
the map out of his saddlebag and under the dim light of the lamp,
he looked to see what town would they have ridden to.
`They could have been headed for Lincoln, or they could have
swung to the south and over to Topeka.'
Tom swung his horse to the south and rode out of town. He was
thinking that if he were gonna get away from something he would
ride out to where people were less likely to notice strangers.
Topeka was on his way down to Wichita anyway, and from there he
could ride over to Dodge City and see the trail herds come in.
Tom made a cold camp that night out in the open plains with no
trees or anything close by. There was lightning in the southwest
were he was headed, probably be raining by morning.
He woke up in a sweat, he had been dreaming of Sally Mae and
those who took her life. Lightning was flashing nearer and he
called his horse. He figured he'd just as soon be riding in the
rain instead of just sitting here in it. Cutting across at an
angle, Tom caught sight of the rutted trail in the gray predawn
and the flashes of lightning. He let his horse pick his gait in
the nearly dark of the approaching storm. Lightning flashed and
struck the ground nearby. Thunder boomed, then rolled across the
flat plains. Tom was straining his eyes for some kind of cover as
the storm was bearing down on him.
Tom caught sight of some trees outlined in a flash of lightning,
he raced his horse to them, hoping there was a creek bed. The
thunder was almost a constant roar and the rain came, blowing in
a straight line against his face. There was a small creek ahead
and though it wasn't much protection, he rode down into the creek
bed. The roar was deafening now and the rains came with such
force the drops stung his face and hands. Tom knew there was no
railroad nearby, but the roar sounded like a fast moving train
coming right at him.
In the flash of lightening Tom saw a long black tail of the
twister drop down out of the dark clouds and drag across the
ground, sweeping back and forth like it was sniffing out
something, as it raged across the earth in the early morning. He
slid to the ground and grabbed his horses leg making him lay down
against the small bank of the creek. There were two trees just up
the bank from him and in the flashes of light he could see the
tops bent over in the wind.
The roar came louder, shaking the very air he was breathing. The
ground beneath him felt like it was shaking in fear as the
violent storm stomped the earth around him. Tom saw the trees
leave the earth in a helpless tumble as they were uprooted by the
wind and flew across the creek. He lay beside his horse, his arms
around his big neck. He could feel the muscles in the big horses
neck quiver and jerk as the lightning flashed all around them.
The hail came now, large hailstones half the size of his fist. He
moved around to lean over his horses head and protect his eyes
and head from the hail. The hail was pelting his back, beating
and scratching him as it hit the side of his face and arms
It was over. The black storm cloud raged on to the northeast, all
that was left was light rain and still air.
Tom nudged his horse and he stood up, they both looked around to
see a beaten and battered path of destruction where the storm had
passed. He walked up the low bank of the creek and his horse
followed, he checked him over for any cuts and scrapes. His horse
shook his head and then his whole body as if shaking off the
feeling of fear. Tom swung to his back and headed for the trail
again. The ruts were filled with rainwater and he rode to the
side of the ruts. He looked in the distance and saw a small calf
standing as if in a daze.
He saw small trees and limbs from large trees all across the
land. There were boards from barns and rails from fences
scattered all around. He saw part of a wagon ahead and rode over
to look. The wagon had no wheels and was lying upside down on a
horse. The horse was trying to get up and Tom was about to help,
then he saw the fence rail driven through his ribs. Blood was
coming in bubbles from the horses' nose as he rolled his big eyes
up at Tom.
Tom pulled his Henry out and shot him between his eyes.
The air was still now and the only sound was the distant rumble
of the storm moving away, the crack of the rifle shot seemed to
go on forever.
Riding south on the muddy trail and saw more and more of the
scattered remains of a homestead. In the distance he saw what
looked like part of a barn and part of a chimney still standing.
He turned to ride over and take a look. He saw at least a dozen
dead chickens scattered across the field. There was a black and
white dog hanging lifeless from the broken limbs of a tree.
He saw a cow lying on its side, lifeless. There were two chickens
scratching in the mud near the barn. One back corner and parts of
two side walls were all that remained of the barn. Some of the
fence posts were still standing and some of the fence rails were
scattered about.
The windmill was still spinning aimlessly, some of the blades
were missing or twisted, the tower was slightly askew, but water
was coming from the pipe and pouring on the ground where the tank
had been. The house was gone, all that remained was the half
chimney and some of the floor that looked like it had just been
swept clean. Tom wondered where the people were, did they survive
or were they also scattered across the open plains.
Tom's horse perked his ears and Tom looked to see a lone work
horse walk out from behind the twisted remains of the barn.
He was just about to ride away when his horse perked his ears
toward the floor of the house and raised his head. Tom slid off
the saddle and walked through the mud to stand on the floor. One
corner was dropped down and twisted, he looked closely and saw
what looked like a trap door in the floor.
Tom knelt and hammered with his fist on the wooden floor. Someone
hammered back from beneath the floor. There was someone under
there.
He looked around for something to pry the door up. He couldn't
find a thing that would fit in the tight crack so he picked up a
piece of heavy beam and hammered it down on the door. It gave a
little and he hit it again and again, driving it downward. The
trap door fell through the opening and Tom looked down to see a
man and a woman, clutching two small kids. They were standing in
about a foot of muddy water and they were soaked.
"Mr. we don't know where you came from or how you found us, but
we are sure thankful you're here," the man said as he looked up.
Tom helped them up from the cellar and onto the floor, the only
part of their house that was left. They stood and looked around,
not saying a word as they took in all the damage that was done to
their homestead.
"Looks like you took a pretty good hit from the storm, there's a
calf about a quarter mile back that way, just follow the path of
the storm and you'll find it. There's a horse over there and some
chickens, that's about all I saw that survived."
"We sure want to thank you again injun for coming by, the trap
door was wedged so tight we couldn't get it open from below,
don't know what we would've done."
"I wish I could do more, you sure don't have much left to go on
here. I could stop at the nearest town and try to get you some
help."
"The nearest town is Topeka and it's at least twenty miles from
here. We started out with nothing when we got here, we can start
again."
Tom walked to his horse, opened his saddle bags and counted out
half the money he had. He walked over to the man and handed it to
him.
"This will help some until you get back on your feet again,
there's enough boards and scrap here to build a lean-to for
shelter until you can do better."
"We can't take your money injun, you don't owe us anything at
all, we're the ones that owe you for coming by at the right
time."
Tom turned and took the woman's hand and placed the money in it,
"Ma'am take this, you'll need it more than I will in the coming
days."
Tom turned and walked back to his horse.
"I know you folks will be alright, you got your family and your
land," he said as he swung to the saddle and rode off.
The man and woman stood there looking at each other with tears in
their eyes, then hugged their kids and each other.
Soon the mud gave way to dry dirt as Tom rode out of the path of
the storm. His horse loped ahead without being told and by mid
day they were in Topeka for the second time in a week.
He rode through town and out to where he and Sally Mae had
stopped at the stables earlier. The young boy he had worked with
when he was here before, ran out to meet him.
"Injun Tom, you came back. Where's Sally Mae?"
"She didn't come back with me this time, I'm headed on out to
west Kansas and Colorado this time. I was just wondering if
you've seen any strangers come by in the last few days."
"Sure did Injun Tom, as a matter of fact they were looking for
you, said they were friends and they wanted to catch up with
you."
"Well I never did see them, what did they look like?"
"One was an injun like you and the other was a big man with only
one hand."
"When was this Billy?"
"The day after you and Sally Mae left here, they came early the
next day, the big man said he owed you something and wanted to
make sure you got it."
"Well I'm sure we'll meet somewhere, I'll be looking for him too,
now that I know he was trying to find me. I sure thank you
Billy."
"Yes Sir Injun Tom, if you see Sally Mae soon tell her I said
hi."
Tom looked at the young boy, nodded then rode off.
The sun was out and there wasn't a cloud in the sky, Tom stopped
to look at his maps again to get his bearings. He cut across on a
line that would take him to the railroad tracks that led to
Wichita. He wasn't sure if it was his yearning to continue his
journey he had started out on, or if there was something else
that was driving him to Wichita. Whatever it was, he felt as if
he were being pulled hard in that direction.
Tom was riding across the open plains, he saw no houses, no
ranches and no fences. Except for the flat land of Kansas this
looked like the same prairie as South Dakota. Every now and then
he could see a windmill spinning in the distance, so he knew
there was people and cattle out there. His horse wanted to run
and he let him. There was no trail here, just grass and an
occasional short bush. He could see forever it seemed like.
Tom's horse slowed a bit and he saw the horses ears perk up. He
heard it now, the whistle of the train. They had come upon the
tracks, he could see them now. The train was headed toward Topeka
and the black smoke looked even thicker and blacker now that he
was off at a distance.
When he came to the railroad he rode along a dusty trail beside
the tracks. His horse was in a long easy lope now, covering a lot
of ground in a hurry. He remembered this very railroad, coming
into Wichita on a train less than a week ago. He and Sally Mae
didn't have a worry in the world. Now she was dead, he had helped
Bones bury her. Tom felt a chill run through his body as if his
heart was pumping ice into his veins.
The hurt was heavy in his heart, he would never have forgiveness
for the cowards responsible for her death. Someone was gonna
hurt. Someone was gonna pay, an eye for an eye. As he rode by the
stock yards, he knew he was close, he slowed his horse and
started his scanning look at everything and everyone he saw.
There were many pens and corrals at the stock yards, the fences
went on and on into the distance. Men were standing on the fences
shouting at men down inside the pens. Cattle were moving from pen
to pen, sorted by age or maybe size. Tom could see over the top
of the pens where there seemed to be an endless line of cattle
entering the stockyards.
He stopped and watched the action, he saw the men counting and
recording the numbers. He watched the kids run the cattle up the
chute's and into the different pens. Gates swinging open as
others swung closed. There was a lot of shouting and yelling as
the cattle ran for daylight or hung back in corners refusing to
come out.
Tom knew there had to be a livery stable close to the stock yards
some where, he kept his eyes open for one as he rode on into the
center of town. Sure enough he spotted one down a side street
from the main road into town. He rode up and slid to the ground
as he looked the place over. It was old but it was well kept and
clean. The pens and corrals were all in good shape.
Tom walked in the door of the main stable as a skinny young man
walked out.
"What can I do fer ya' mister?"
"I'd like to leave my horse here for a while if you got room."
"We got room, say are you a real injun?"
"Well I am about as real as they come I reckon."
"Damn injun, you sure are a tall one."
"Who looks after the horses here, is that you?"
"Yep that'd be me, my dad owns this stable and I run it."
Tom turned to his horse and clicked his tongue, the big horse
walked over and stood looking over his shoulder at the kid.
"Now that is a horse, shit I ain't ever seen a horse like that
one come in these stables. Do you ride him without a bridle?"
"He don't need one, he knows where I'm going and how to get
there," Tom smiled.
"Yep, that is some horse Mister."
"I'll be sleeping here with him, you got a problem with that?"
"No injun if you don't, then I don't."
"What's your name?"
"They call me Cal, my name is Calvin Randal."
"Cal I'm Tom Cooper, I want you to watch this horse like he
belonged to you. I don't want anyone even close to him but you
and me."
"Yes Sir Tom, you got it."
Tom pulled a five dollar gold coin out and gave it to him
"This is for you, I'll settle up for boarding my horse later."
"YES SIR Tom, thank you."
"Where could I get some food Cal?"
"There's a place over next to the stock yards where all the
workers, drovers, and cattlemen eat. Have to tell you though that
they don't serve Blacks and Indians."
"Well I'm not hungry enough to fight for my food, I'll just eat
jerky."
"Tom, I'll go get you some food if you'll watch the stable for
me."
"I reckon I'd be a fool to turn that down Cal," Tom said and
handed him some money.
"Get yourself some grub too Cal, get us a good steak if they
got'em."
"Yes Sir," Cal said and ran out the back door of the stable.
Tom took the saddle off his horse and walked with him into the
barn. The walls that separated the stalls were wooden boards that
were gray with age, they had been chewed down pretty good over
the years by horses and mules.
He took his saddle and threw it across a rail in back of a stall,
his horse followed him and stood waiting. Tom walked to him and
put his arms around his neck.
"Just you and me again now, just like we started out," he said
softly as his horse rubbed his head up and down Tom's arm.
Tom got some hay from the stack across the barn, he found some
crushed oats and put a half pail in the feed trough. He took some
straw and rubbed his horse down where the saddle had been, then
rubbed his legs good too. He would get a brush or curry comb from
Cal and give him a good dry brushing later.
Cal came back with two tin plates piled high with steaks and
bread.
"That looks like some fine eatin' Cal."
"Yes Sir, they do cook some good grub over there."
They sat on some hay and started to eat.
Tom pulled his knife out, wiped it on his breeches leg and
started cutting the steak.
`Yep, this is some good eatin' specially since I ain't eaten in a
while.' Tom thought
"How old are you Cal?"
"I'll be eighteen this summer."
"Your dad had this place long?"
"Yep, his dad built it way back and my dad ran it. Now I'm
running it. Dad says one day it'll be mine, but I ain't sure I
want to be in a stable all my life. I got a hankerin' to see some
more of this here land."
"I know the feelin' Cal, I was raised up in The Dakotas and felt
like there was just too much out there for me not to go have a
look at it."
The two sat there eatin' and smackin' their lips, talkin' about
everything and nothin'.
"How long you gonna be here Tom?"
"Not sure, I reckon I won't be here more'n a day or two, at the
most."
"Where you headin', you got a place you're goin' to or you just
ridin and lookin'?"
"Just ridin' and lookin' mostly I reckon, I got a couple of loose
ends I need to tie up along the way, but I reckon that if all
goes well, I'll end up in Wyoming some time in early fall."
"Wyoming, now that sounds like a place that's callin' me to come
have a look at it."
"Yep, that's kinda the way I felt too when I set out, I wanted to
ride down to St. Joe and Kansas City to have a look, done been
there now. Spent some time up in Newton Nebraska and down in
Omaha too.
"I was here in Wichita a week or so ago, breeding my horse to
some mares of Mr. Holliday's, you know of him?"
"Yep, reckon everybody even close to Wichita knows of Mr.
Holliday, he was Mayor for a long time, and then had a lot to do
with the railroad coming here. He still owns a big portion of the
Santa Fe so I hear."
"I met him when I was here, a fine man in my book, treated me
like a friend."
"So when you leave here, which way you headin' Tom?"
"Thought I'd ride over to Dodge City and see the really big trail
herds come in, spend some time there, then ride out to west
Kansas, maybe even ride down into Indian Territory a ways. I
won't be in any hurry, specially if I can find those loose ends
and get a knot tied in'em."
"Tom that sounds like a really good ride, you gonna ride on out
to the panhandle of Indian Territory and Texas too, I've always
wanted to see that. Now that sounds like some sur'nuff wild west
country to me. Kinda like someone talkin' about Tucson or
Abilene. Them names just give me some chills when I say'em."
"Cal you'n me are a lot alike. My mom taught me to read and I
couldn't get enough. I read all about this country and everything
I could find about the parts of it I had heard tales told of.
Made me have a hankerin' to go see some of it. I have many
friends in the Sioux, they've told me of the days of their
fathers when Buffalo roamed all the way from Mexico to on up in
Canada. I would sit and listen to them talk about the hunts they
had and the hunts their fathers had. Made me wish I was back
there with them."
"You are part Injun Tom, are you Sioux?"
"Yep, that's what they told me anyway, and I love the Sioux ways
too."
They were through eating their steaks now and sat there relaxing.
Tom felt good to get his mind off his troubles for a while. He
knew they would never go away though.
He knew he had a good advantage right now too, he kinda figured
that if it was Sam Wilson that killed Sally Mae, Sam was thinkin
right now that it was Tom dead in that bedroll.
Until they heard or saw something different, he would be the one
lookin'.