Lawman: Vengeance Trail

By R. O. Hughes

US marshal Clay Hughes was only twenty-five years old—the youngest marshal in the service but thought by many, including his superiors, to be the best. He was lightning quick on the draw and deadly accurate with his Colt 45. Clay was a wealthy rancher with a beautiful wife, but his commitment to the badge he wore and his duty as a US marshal always took precedence over his personal responsibilities. Relentless in the pursuit of outlaws, a town tamer and respected lawman, his sense of justice was turned upside down when his uncle Will Mitchell, his mentor and friend, was maliciously murdered by a gunfighter. He laid aside his badge and set out to kill a man.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781546275046

R. O. Hughes

The Author, R. O. Hughes, is a retired Lawyer and Judge who has an inexpressible love for the Old West and it's Culture and can only be a part of it through Fantasy and Fiction. His admiration of Louis Lamour and others like him is what challenged him to attempt this venture into the realm of Lawmen, Gunfighters, and Owl Hoots of the Western Frontier.

Book preview

© 2019 R. O. Hughes. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/09/2019

ISBN: 978-1-5462-7505-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-7503-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-7504-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019900236

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

About The Author

This Book is dedicated to my precious wife of 63 years, Mary Ellen. Though feeble as a thing of value, it is intended as an expression of my great love for her as a Wife, Mother, and Friend.

CHAPTER ONE

A ll four horses were heavily lathered after riding hard from Fort Collins, in Colorado, where shortly before, the four riders, all Calvary men, robbed the Post payroll and killed the Paymaster, a first Lieutenant, and guard.

Sgt. Boon Daniels. The leader of the group, slowed his horse to a walk and the others followed.

Why’d you shoot them men, Alonzo? I told you there’d be no killing. Now we got the whole United States Calvary on our tails. Daniels said, voice raised.

Cause’ they was no good Blue Bellies, that’s why, and besides, we got the payroll, and that Lieutenant was the one who put me in the Guardhouse. Alonzo answered nonchalantly.

Sgt. Boon Daniels was 39 years old, a career Army man, having served the last 16 years of his life fighting Indians and trying to keep the peace following the Civil War. Daniels was a big man, standing four inches above six feet and carrying a muscled, two hundred and thirty pounds. He was square jawed, browned from long hours in the Sun, with a bushy mustache above his lip and salt and pepper hair hanging out from under a battered Calvary campaign hat. He selected the men and planned the robbery of the Paymaster. His plans did not include the murder of the two Army personnel.

Alonzo Tubbs was in his late twenties, a tall, skinny, hatchet face character with many of his teeth missing. He fought for the Confederacy during the civil war and joined the U. S. Army to escape from the bounty hunters, after him for cattle rustling, stage coach robberies and killing a Sheriff in Abilene, Texas about one year before. He was a regular in the guardhouse due to his consistent disregard of orders.

Ethan Cobb and Levi Salters were just drifters who came up from Texas on a cattle drive, couldn’t find work after the drive and joined the Army to survive. Both were in their early 30’s, good with their gun, and weren’t particular who they hired out to or what they were hired to do. They rode for the Brand. Ethan and Levi both were good size men. They were both over six feet tall and didn’t carry any fat. Their faces were tanned from chasing cattle all their lives. Levi wore his coal black hair down on his shoulders under a tall crowned, sweat stained hat. Some thought he was part Indian. Ethan was neat and careful about his appearance. His blond hair was always neat and trimmed, his clothes were usually neat and in order, giving him a rather striking appearance compared to the other three. Neither spoke as the four men, all dressed in their Army blues, walked their horses.

Ethan finally broke the silence

Men, we stand out like sore thumbs in these uniforms. We’re riding Army stock with Army saddles and these horses are about done. We need new clothes and new outfits. Anybody know where the closest place we can get some clothes and fresh horses?

We ain’t too far from Greely. There’s a trading post there and I’m sure we can get some fresh mounts there as well as some clothes. We got money to pay and we can say we’re on special assignment and need to keep moving. I doubt that word of the robbery has got out yet. Once we get new outfits, we’ll light a shuck and find us a place to stay out’a site for a while. Daniels responded.

We need a packhorse and some supplies. No tellin’ how long we’ll be holed up. Levi offered.

Levi, when we get to Greely, you and Ethan go find a livery and arrange for our remounts and packhorse, then, meet me and Alonzo at the trading post. We’ll load up quick and light a shuck. I’ll take care of the clothes. Don’t waste any time. We need to move fast. Daniels ordered.

Greely, Colorado began as a Union Colony, founded in 1869. It was located at the confluence of the Cache la Poudre and South Platte Rivers. The town was sizeable, containing numerous business establishments, three Saloons, a Mercantile Store, Courthouse, that housed a Jail, Stage Stop, a large Livery and numbers of houses located just off Main Street. The Four riders entered the main street of Greely just before Sunset. The town was quiet except for the sound of off key piano music, laughter from raucous cowboys and occasional squeals from the soiled doves, doing what they do best, all coming from the saloon just down the street. Most of the inhabitants had closed up shop or on their way home for supper. Daniels and Tubbs went immediately to the Mercantile store and Cobb and Salters made their way to the Livery. Cobb and Salters dismounted in front of the Livery and were met at the large double doors by a young boy, apparently in his teens, who asked,

Yes sir, can I board your horses?

Where’s the owner? Ethan asked.

He ain,t here right now. He went to get him some supper at the eatin’ place down the street. He oughta’ be back any time. He’s been gone a good while.

We’ll wait a spell. Levi said. Any horses for sale or trade? We’re lookin’ for some fresh mounts.

Yes sir, we got some fine horses, but you’ll have to see Mr. Tandy about that. I don’t know nothin’ bout horses. I just keep the stalls cleaned and feed the stock. Here comes Mr. Tandy now.

Jedediah Tandy walked with a limp, resulting from a gunshot wound in his leg, suffered during the Civil War. He was a portly man with unkempt gray hair, sporting a graying beard that hung down over a faded denim shirt, tucked into brown wool trousers. His knee- high boots were run over at the heel and were caked with dried manure. He walked up to the two, thumbs tucked into his suspenders, and said,

Evenin’ gents. I’m Jedediah Tandy, owner of this fine establishment. How can I be of service? You lookin’ to board your horses?

Naw, we’re wantin’ to trade these for fresh mounts. We need four and a pack horse. We’re willing to pay some extra but not much. Our horses are just tuckered out. We’re on a special assignment and need to keep moving. The other two Troopers are at the Mercantile buying some supplies. Levi offered. I’ll go get the other two horses and bring them over if you want to look’em over. They’re just like these. The Army don’t buy no sorry stock. Levi added.

Well, I would kinda’ like to have a look at’em. Why don’t you pick out five of the horses of your choice and I’ll meander over to the Mercantile and have a look. Then we’ll bargain. Be right back. Luther, show these gents our stock.

Yes sir, Mr. Tandy. They’re out back in the coral. I’ll show’em to these fellers. Luther replied.

The two men followed Luther and quickly selected five animals and led them to the front of the livery.

Levi and Ethan quickly transferred their saddles to the fresh stock. Levi turned and said to Luther,

We’ll need a rack for the pack horse. You got one?

Yes sir, I’ll get you one. Luther replied.

Then get it and put it on one of them horses. Levi ordered.

By the time Luther had the rack in place on the pack horse, Daniels and Tubbs returned with Tandy. Daniels dismounted and said to Tubbs,

Get mine and your saddles transferred on the new mounts and I’ll settle up with Tandy. Daniels continued,

What’s your price Tandy? We’ve got to go load our supplies and we’re losing valuable time.

Tandy placed one thumb under his suspenders, scratched his chin with the other hand, mumbled to himself and said,

I make it a fair trade if I get your horses and 25 dollars for the four and a hunnert dollars for the pack animal.

Daniels quickly responded,

That’s robbery and you know it. Here’s fifty dollars. Five dollars, a piece, for the four and thirty dollars for the other’n.

Now hold on, Tandy objected. I ain’t, no wise, gonna’ agree to that. You get the saddles off…….

Before he could finish, Tubbs drew his pistol and put a bullet in Tandy and the boy. Both were dead when they hit the ground.

Ethan, you and Levi drag them bodies inside and cover them with straw. Me and Alonzo will get our supplies. Be quick. We need to be out of here. Daniels ordered.

Alonzo, you done what I was fixin’ to do. We can’t leave any witnesses behind. Let’s move. Daniels added.

The Sun had disappeared below the horizon as four riders and a Packhorse, laden with supplies, left Greely, headed North.

CHAPTER TWO

C lay Hughes was young to be a Deputy U. S. Marshall; only 25 years old, but he had earned the title as well as his ability to use a six gun. He was lightening quick and deadly accurate. He hit what he shot at and hit where he intended to shoot. He acquired that ability, partly from instruction received from his Uncle Will Mitchell, a former Bounty Hunter, and partly from his prior experiences encountered in tracking down the murderers of his parents and attempted murder of his Wife.

Clay was a striking figure of a man. He stood three inches above six feet and carried 195 pounds of pure muscle. No fat. Sandy blond hair hung below a flat crowned, flat rimed, hat with a large sweat stain along the rim. Broad shoulders and a slim waist resulted from a life of wrestling bunch quitter cattle from thick Mesquite trees and placing his Brand on them. No man on the Ranch worked harder.

Clay and his Wife, Jessica, inherited almost 160,000 acres of Ranchland from their parents and, through good management of Jessica and Clay’s Uncle, Will Mitchell, acquired another 50,000 acres. They ran almost 20,000 head of prime beef and supplied the Army as well as several packing houses back East with beef on a regular basis. Clay’s brother, Grayson was also a co-owner. Grayson was about 9 or 10 years old when he was captured by a band of Sioux and raised as the adopted son of Chief Grey Wolf. Clay accidentally found him,9 years later, near death, after being attacked by a Mountain Lion. (See Vengeance Trail, 2017, by R. O. Hughes)

Clay read the telegram from Marshall Gill Carson again, which had been delivered to him by Lester Sartain, the telegrapher in Jasper, earlier.

It read:

"Urgent. Proceed direct to Fort Collins. Col. Bradley Morris will brief you. Sorry, but we