A Mizerble, Thievin' Polecat !

By Earle W. Jacobs and Dwain Esper

The stories from the life of Will Stuart begin a few years after the end of the Civil War after Will, a Civil War Veteran, finally made a rich silver discovery in the Comstock area not far from Virginia City, Nevada.

Talk about a life of adventure and with some beautiful women thrown in for good measure! You will want to check out the three desperadoes, Slick Fariss, Pug Kratcher and Soapy Soapstene and their ventures into the crime business.

Talk about your bad hombres, that Philo Ogden Peters is something else! Being an army deserter was not enough for ex private Peters; that was just for starters!

What till you see what the Panther of the Pass is up to. And If that is not enough, how about some Chinese Tongs, a little SEX and then throw in some Pirates of the South Seas for good measure ! Aaand----that is not even all !

Gaahlly Ned !

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 18, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477240694

Earle W. Jacobs

Earle Jacobs has been a long time resident of Southern California. He lives’ there with his wife, Alla Mikhaylovna, a native of Kiev, Ukraine and their one-eared cat Barrabashka, a native of St. Petersburg, Russia. Alla is a US Citizen. Barrabashka so far still has only her entry visa. He was an Army Lieutenant during WWII and was awarded battle stars for his ETO Campaign Ribbon for Normandy, Northern France, Rhineland and Central Europe. He has been writing adventure novels since 1989.

Book preview

A Mizerble, Thievin’ Polecat!

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Earle W. Jacobs

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Illustration by Dwain Esper

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AuthorHouse™

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© 2012 Earle W. Jacobs. 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 7/16/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4772-4070-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-4068-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-4069-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012911955

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and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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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 A Mizerble, Theivin’, Polecat!

Chapter Two  One Really Bad Hombre

Chapter Three Beware! The Panther of the Pass!

Chapter Four El Pueblo de los Angeles

Chapter Five Pirates of the South China Seas

Chapter Six Finally, Time to Settle Down

Chapter Seven Return of the Tong!

Author’s Notes

Author’s Bio.

Chapter One

A Mizerble, Theivin’, Polecat!

September 15, 1869

Well, I thought this looked like a pretty good place for me to bed down for a spell. At least for what was left of this day. I suppose you all are a wondering why I’m even here; not really a big deal. By the way, I’m William Edward Stuart. My friends usually just call me, Will. I had been riding now, pretty solid, for most of six days and keeping an eye out for a place like this to set up camp for a few days and maybe enjoy a little rest and relaxation, the purpose of this trip.

I don’t know why I’m thinking of it now when it’s past time to grab a little shut-eye but I wonder if those folks I left behind in Lake’s Crossing didn’t much cotton to loosin’ money to a stranger. Maybe especially so when they thought it would be easy to fleece that stranger using a marked deck. They were real pleasant at first. Fooled me I guess. I’m not a professional gambler, of course but I have played a hand or two. I was only intending to pass a very short time in the Gold Strike Emporium while I was eating breakfast and restin’ up old Popcorn and my mule Beelzebub before starting on this trip.

I’d been working my butt off over on the Comstock near Virginia City for darn near a whole year before I finally made a strike on a claim that assayed out really good. I kept my mouth shut until I had my claim all proved out and legal as hell and I made sure all my claim papers were properly recorded. No one was going to euchre me out of this one! I had one learning experience a while ago and that was enough. That one mistake cost me a fair amount of money. I didn’t intend it should happen again. The assay figures on this find sure did make a feller catch his breath.

There were always some big shots from Frisco, fronting a lot of investment money, who hung around Virginia City. They were always looking to pick up promising claims of which, at the time, there were a fair number. It wasn’t long before the news of my strike came to their attention. In the meantime, I had dug out by myself and sold $20,000 worth of high-grade ore, mostly silver but with a little gold as well. For some time now, I had been looking to make a good gold strike but this one, though mostly silver, is sure a good one.

The money from that sale was safely on deposit in Virginia City’s Bank of California. I was only one of a number of prospectors who had located good claims in this area around this time. We had all gotten here early on. Many other prospectors coming later however, only went broke and wound up working for wages, something that was not at all unusual, in the prospecting business. That Comstock area around there, on the eastern side of the Sierra’s, I think is likely destined soon to be famous as one of the richest mining areas ever, for both gold and silver.

The first offer I got was for five thousand dollars. Later, in one week, after I hired a couple miners to help, I took out and sold another $7,500 worth of premium ore. That really got everyone’s attention. I knew what those gents were thinking now: If they didn’t hurry up and get this claim, I would dig out all the good stuff before they could get at it. The upshot of all this was that I finally sold for $175,000., a goodly sum for these times. At that, I think the buyers for a San Francisco syndicate got a bargain. I know they thought the same. I made sure to take payment by bank draft deposited in the Bank of California in San Francisco as part of the deal.

I immediately hopped on old Popcorn, when I was told payment had been made and hotfooted it to the little town at Lake’s Crossing. I think they are now beginning to call it Reno. No doubt in honor of Jesse L. Reno a very brave, distinguished Union General who had been killed in the war. There I took the recently completed Central Pacific to Sacramento. When I got to Sacramento, I took overnight passage on the little River Queen, a paddle wheel steamer, to San Francisco. I had left my faithful horse at a good livery at Lake’s Crossing to pick up on my way back. It sure is a lot easier negotiating Donner Pass by train. Three years ago, I did it the hard way on horseback. Today I could view beautiful Donner Lake in comfort.

My first job on arriving in the city by the bay was to find the bank and to verify that my money was on deposit. Good, it was; the deal was now closed. I put half the money on deposit with Wells Fargo just so I didn’t have all my eggs in one basket. My money worries will be over for some time. I also now have accumulated a fair sum in my bank account in Virginia City. I spent a pleasant three days seeing the sights, getting myself outfitted with some new duds and now that I could afford it, having a couple of my favorite breakfasts of Hang Town fry with fried potatoes on the side. I also put together a new outfit that I took with me back to Sacramento where I caught the Central Pacific back to pick up old Popcorn. I found a good big mule that was for sale at the livery stable and packed my new outfit on him. His owner had named him Beelzebub. I soon discovered however, this had to be one of the mildest mannered mules I had ever seen. At least he was for me. I try to take good care of my livestock.

I of course was now a man of some means however, I didn’t look like it and I didn’t intend for anyone to think I was anything but another prospector on the move with his outfit, looking for a new strike. I had a little money with me but the rest of my money was all on deposit in San Francisco and Virginia City earning some nice interest for me. If I need it, I can get it. I only intended to spend a few days in Reno while old Popcorn and Beelzebub rested up and put on a little fat. I wanted to head south along the eastern Sierras now and do a little sightseeing and fishing before the cold weather and snow started in. That country I knew is very beautiful in the fall months. I figured I had earned a little vacation.

The Gold Strike wasn’t the fanciest gambling hall/saloon in town but the chalkboard sign out front advertised my favorite breakfast was on the menu that morning. I was all packed up, with my gear on Beelzebub and he and and my faithful Popcorn were hitched out front while I went in for an early breakfast before starting out on my vacation trip. I left them each with their noses in a bag with a little oats.

I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised that people were playing poker at seven-thirty in the morning, after all, this was a gambling town. I intended to leave as soon as I finished my kinda expensive hang town fry and some coffee but as soon as I had paid my bill, the three men playing poker asked me to sit in on their game to make it more interesting. When I told them no, I had my animals waiting for me out front they said maybe just a friendly hand or two to help them pass the time until more players arrived. They appeared to be most agreeable gents so; I agreed to play just a few hands.

I couldn’t believe the cards I was getting. I won three small pots in just a few minutes. When I said I had to be on my way they protested; I surely could not leave without giving them a chance to win back some of their money. One of them won the next pot and then I won two more. Forty-five minutes later, I was still there. Another man, a stranger, had joined in by then and the pots were getting bigger. I began paying attention then and that’s when I finally spotted the markings on the cards we were using. I knew then, I had been suckered into this game. I waited now to see what they were going to do.

When a pot came along that reached five hundred dollars, a fair sum, I called for a new deck. I announced then, You fellers haven’t had very good luck with this here deck, so let’s try us another. The bar tender handed me a new deck when I asked. I paid for them, took out the cards and handed them to the dealer who was the stranger sitting on my right. I said, "Now you remember, I told you fellers, I had to be on my way so this has absolutely got to be the last go round and then I gotta be on my way North. I’m way behind schedule".

If I lost now I knew that at least I wouldn’t be cheated. If I lost I would still be out about a hundred dollars however, which I would just as soon hold onto. I won’t bore you with the details but as it turned out, nobody had much of anything this hand. Obviously, there had been a lot of bluffing going on. Eventually when it ended with me, I took the pot with a full house, kings over treys. I said then, Well, as I told you fellers, now I must get going. I’m getting a late start as it is.

Oh the protests over my leaving with the money but I said, I kept telling you I had to leave and now, leave I must. Enjoy the rest of your game. Maybe I will stop in on my way back south and we can give it another try. I got some sour looks as I scooped up my winnings and walked over to the bar. I told the bartender to get my friends what they wanted to drink, handed him five dollars and said to keep the change. That’s when he whispered to me, If’n I was you, laddie I’d not waste time gettin’ out of town. Those gents don’t take kindly to loosin.’ I been watchin’ them fer a few days and I wouldn’t put anythin’ past em. With that, he strolled over to the table to take orders.

I lost no time getting my animals under way. If my gambling friends were watching, they saw me riding past the front windows, heading north. At the next corner, however I rode around the block and was heading south. Maybe I was being a little paranoid but with over a thousand dollars on me there sure is no harm, under the circumstances, in being just a little bit careful, especially with those cardsharps watching me. We hit a pretty good stride as soon as we were outside of town and kept on moving until I found a good place to stop for the night around sundown a few miles south of Carson City. We had made very good mileage considering our late start. Hereafter we will take it a little easier or my four footed friends will not last very long. We had water from a little stream nearby and some good grass for the animals, a good camp. I would imagine those cardsharps had forgotten about me by now.

By the time that it was full dark, I had everything set up and coffee boiling. I put a couple small pieces of beef to cooking on willow sticks leaning near the fire. I had a bag of biscuits I bought in Lakes Crossing and two of those with the meat and coffee will be enough, actually plenty. After the fire had died down, I moved my blankets a little ways away out of sight and sacked out. I doubt my Reno/Lakes Crossing friends had any idea where I was and maybe didn’t even have any intentions of following me but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. The animals would let me know if anyone approached our camp. Tomorrow we head for Genoa and on south.

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After losing two more hands the stranger stood, picked up what was left of his money and announced, he had lost all he could afford. His wife was going to skin him alive when she found out he had been playing poker again and lost so much money again. The three would-be cardsharps sat looking at each other with sour expressions on their faces. They had been big losers as well.

Alonzo (Slick) Fariss, Hugo (Pug) Kratcher and Billy-Jobe (Soapy) Soapstene had formed their partnership two months ago when they met at the Silver Slipper bar and dance hall over at Wadsdworth. They were all certified losers and had immediately recognized each other as birds of a feather. All three had a violent aversion to any kind of honest labor and had mostly survived up to now on petty criminal activity.

After much earnest thought, aided by a number of alcoholic beverages, they decided the easiest way for them to make money was by working as a team and cheating people at cards. It should be easy. Unfortunately, as it developed, they weren’t much better at this endeavor than any others each had individually previously tried

Before long they had left Wadsworth rather sudden like before some very irate local gentlemen could end their budding careers, permanently. They had been making the Gold Strike in Lakes Crossing their base of operations for the last ten days. Even with a marked deck of cards, they were not doing well. A couple times, they had found it necessary to waylay men who had unwisely left as winners. One had subsequently almost died. There was no proof yet that they were the perpetrators of those attacks but people were beginning to have their suspicions. At this rate eventually they were either going to wind up in prison or dead.

Listen, you guys, Slick griped, taking a gulp of his free drink; this here aint workin’ out no how. Weuns gotta do something to get us some real money. This here, what we’re a doin’ now, is one losin’ proposition. I don’t see nothin’ ahead but trouble, if’n weuns try to keep on with this. Soapy swore and grumbled. We shoulda followed that there winner; I think he had a lot more than what he took offen us. He probly cheated us anyway. Pug Kratcher pushed back his chair, gulped the rest of his free drink and said. Well, are we gonna set here a jawin’ whilst he gets farther away or are we agoin to go after him? We all saw him take off up the street. How far can he get afore we ketch up to him? I bet we could get a nice piece of change for that outfit a hisn too. I wonder who that jasper is anyways.

Never having been known to leave a free drink behind, Slick and Billy-Jobe gulped down the rest of theirs and they all left to find their horses and get their outfits together. It was an hour later when they left town heading north on the trail of that winning miner. Pug, all two hundred pounds of him, packed firmly into five and a half feet, remembered they might need a little in the way of food supplies and they had all chipped in for that before starting out.

Now that they had graduated into being full-fledged highwaymen, maybe things would work out better. They might even be able to hold up a stage somewhere along the way while they sought to recover the money, which they had now decided, had been stolen from them by that crooked miner. They each had a revolver, complete with bullets, what else would they need? Things now were looking up indeed and they were all smiling broadly, as they made their way north out of town, prepared to follow their quarry clean up to Oregon if necessary.

About two in the afternoon, they came upon three large freight wagons. Each wagon had a big, four-mule team and there were three men for each of the big wagons. The men not driving carried shotguns. Everyone was also wearing six guns strapped to their waist. They had obviously stopped to give the mules a rest before continuing. The neophyte highwaymen wisely figured this was not a good choice for their first holdup and elected for just some friendly conversation.

Slick rode over to where the teamsters had gathered in the shade to say howdy. They all answered pleasantly enough but they all kept their guns in their hands too. Weuns is a headin’ fer Ohreegon lookin’ for work. Slick informed them. Our pal, uh er, George, a kinda sandy haired fella about my size, left a half day ahead of us and we was a hopin’ to ketch up with him by now. Maybe you fellers done seen him back up the road there? he asked. The man who appeared to be the leader told him they had been on the road since early that morning and they had seen no one all day. Sorry Stranger They had passed a stage station back a ways he said then but had not had to stop. Maybe their friend had holed up there, he added.

Without so much as a thank you, Slick left and rejoined his pals to give them the news. They decided that likely their quarry must be at the stage station or if not, probably not much farther north. They took off in a rush. They wanted to get their money back today. This would be the first gent they might have to kill but they weren’t particularly worried about that. They were convinced that they were indeed three really hard hombres and you had better believe that too, stranger!

The station agent came out in front to talk to them. They didn’t fail to note that the blacksmith was eyeing them from his shed. He had a long barreled revolver strapped to his waist. The two hostlers at the barn door were also watching. A shotgun leaned against the door nearby and both those men were also wearing guns. Maybe three men riding alone could give some people the wrong idea. The agent asked what business he could help them with; he didn’t ask them to light and set a spell either. They gave him the same story and asked when their friend George had passed by. They got the same story as from the teamsters; he had not been by here.

The agent said then, that if they wanted to wait a short time; the southbound stage would be coming in and they