The Legend of Hermit Jack: “The World Needs More Bacon Bandits”

By DALE A WARREN

The Legend of Hermit Jack. It describes the adventures of Will and Sally, two children in an 1880s western mining town who adopt an orphan dog. The story follows all three as they endure loss, learn of love, and hold tightly to their hopes and dreams while coping with the dangers of living deep in the Rocky Mountains. They are separated and later reunited, in a coming of age story that is told in part from the unique perspective of the four-legged, bacon bandit named Hermit Jack.
The author and his wife purchased property in North Central Colorado. It was formerly a working ranch, marketed by the real estate agent as Hermit Jack Ranch. Ironically, no one seemed to know whom Hermit Jack was or how he came to have a ranch named after him. I took advantage of this oddity and created these three characters to tell Hermit Jacks story.
The story evolves into a tale of a young man losing everything yet never deterring from fulfilling his fathers dream of owning a ranch. However, his journey to that fulfillment and those he meets along the way, are far from typical.
Will watched as the dog headed toward the bakery for a slice of freshly baked bread and to the restaurant for a taste of last nights leftovers. He rounded the corner to greet the boarding house cook who always had strips of freshly cooked bacon. If he found any of the wooden doors closed, he would make a soft growl, and the door would immediately open. At each stop, there was a smiling human, satisfied that he or she had done their duty for the black and white Border collie.
Finally, he would jump up on the wooden boardwalk in front of the General store.
A sound startled Will and he turned to look behind him. A girl came out of the store with an old tin plate full of water. She placed it on the wooden boardwalk. Will watched as the collie leapt up next to the tin plate and started drinking.
The little girl proudly said, I see youve met Hermit Jack.
The boy looked over the collie, then said funny name for a dog.
Well, I named him after Jack Creek, south of town. she pointed. Any loud noises scare him so he burrows a hole under the boardwalk. Hell stay there for hours, just like that old hermit, up in the hills. Anyway, I usually just call him Jack for short.
Humph, he seems like nothing more than a bacon bandit to me

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 22, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499038101

DALE A WARREN

Dale Warren and his lovely bride physically live in the western suburbs of Denver, Colorado. However, their hearts and minds are usually at their second home in rural Jackson County Colorado, in an area known to the locals as “North Park.” Dale has been writing various short stories, poems, and religious articles for many years. “The Legend of Hermit Jack” is his first novel. The descriptions of the setting for this book are from the North Park area. Once upon a time, he listed “writing” as a hobby. However, he has recently devoted full-time to improving his craft and would like to turn it into a second career, (having now abandoned his first career in Information Technology support). While his wife is a native Coloradoan, Dale was born and raised in Western Idaho. “I think the transplants have a greater appreciation for the beauty of the Rockies than those that have seen them every day. However, Dale has not, nor does he have any desire to climb a fourteener.

Book preview

Copyright © 2014 by Dale A Warren.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-4990-3811-8

                eBook           978-1-4990-3810-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

All photographs appear courtesy of Sheila Warren

Rev. date: 08/13/2014

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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Contents

Chapter 1 Toole City

Chapter 2 The Trip

Chapter 3 The Box

Chapter 4 Spring Comes to Toole City

Chapter 5 The Dream

Chapter 6 Mother

Chapter 7 Fishing

Chapter 8 An Unexpected Visitor

Chapter 9 Sorrow and Hope

Chapter 10 Disaster Strikes

Chapter 11 The Storm

Chapter 12 The Mine

Chapter 13 The Morning After

Chapter 14 Alone

Chapter 15 The Journey

Chapter 16 Three Lives

Chapter 17 Hermit Jack lives with the Hermit

Chapter 18 Jack Remembers

Chapter 19 The Rescue

Chapter 20 The Bear

Chapter 21 Jack Finds a New Friend

Chapter 22 Sally

Chapter 23 School Days

Chapter 24 James

Chapter 25 Ezra Ewing

Chapter 26 A Cabin

Chapter 27 The Reunion

Chapter 28 A New Beginning

Chapter 29 Ranch Life

Chapter 30 A Change In Plans

Chapter 31 Parkville

Chapter 32 Surprises and Expectations

Chapter 33 Ezra Strikes Back

Chapter 34 Ruthie

Chapter 35 The Legend Continues

This book is dedicated to my loving wife Sheila, who stands behind my writing and me whether the words are flying from my fingertips or not. And to my six children, five grandchildren and all the dogs that they have brought into my life: Bailey, Ruthie, Ozzie, Scrappy, Marley, Ares and of course…. Norman AKA Hermit Jack – whose unique personality and love for bacon inspired me to write this story.

Thank You All

Chapter 1

TOOLE CITY

I’ve done it! he shouted. Mrs. Fraser, I’ve done it! He shouted toward the distinguished gray-haired woman who cared for his son.

He turned to Will, Son, we are going west!

West? What’s west, Father?

It’s a second chance, my boy, a second chance.

William Warren, Sr. quit his job and sold the house that had been home to his wife and son and bought land. It was in Colorado and although he had never seen it, he knew it would be the answer to all his prayers and dreams.

***

It was the summer of 1880. Will was standing on the boardwalk in Toole City, Colorado. He was remembering his father’s excited words. Actually, Will had not thought of anything else, since his father burst into their Wisconsin home, shouting at the top of his lungs. Mrs. Fraser, their housekeeper had been as shocked as he was.

Now it seemed like so long ago, but finally after the long stagecoach ride from Laramie, Wyoming, Will had awaken that morning, in Colorado!

They still had not seen the land his father purchased. However, Will knew they would get there, someday.

Meanwhile, he was just a curious 10-year-old boy, eager to find out everything he could about this bustling mining town. Starting with, why was there a black and white border collie crawling out from the boardwalk under his feet.

Will watched intently as the little dog wearily made his way onto the dirt street. The collie grunted, stretched his legs, sniffed the air, and began his morning rounds.

Will watched as the dog headed toward the bakery for a slice of freshly baked bread and to the restaurant for a taste of last night’s leftovers. He rounded the corner to greet the boarding house cook who always had strips of freshly cooked bacon. If he found any of the wooden doors closed, he would make a soft growl, and the door would immediately open. At each stop, there was a smiling human, satisfied that he or she had done their duty for the black and white border collie.

Finally, he would jump up on the wooden boardwalk in front of the General store.

A sound startled Will and he turned to look behind him. A girl came out of the store with an old tin plate full of water. She placed it on the wooden boardwalk. Will watched as the collie leapt up next to the tin plate and started drinking.

The little girl proudly said, I see you’ve met Hermit Jack.

The boy looked over the collie, then said funny name for a dog.

Well, I named him after Jack Creek, south of town. she pointed. Any loud noises scare him and he burrows a hole under the boardwalk. He’ll stay there for hours, just like that old hermit, up in the hills. Anyway, I usually just call him Jack for short.

Humph, he seems like nothing more than a bacon bandit to me

The girl’s face screwed up in disgust, Bacon bandit?

Yeah, looks to me like he’d do most anything for a piece of bacon.

You’re probably right, she giggled. He’s one of a kind, that’s for sure.

Both continued to watch Jack lap up the cold water, laughing as most of it got sloshed out of the plate.

My name is Sally. My Dad owns the store here. We’ve lived here nearly six months now. You’re new here aren’t you?

The boy was a couple of inches shorter than she was. She had to look down into his eyes while she impatiently waited for his response.

Will caught the girl’s gaze and took a step back. He was not that shy. Her directness had just simply startled him.

Um, he hesitated, thinking how much information am I ready to give out. I’m Will, deciding that was enough.

Nevertheless, Sally pressed for more. Where did you come here from?

Laramie, my father, and I came in on the Laramie stage last night.

I knew that silly, but I don’t think you lived in Laramie. I think you came from somewhere else.

Will frowned, thinking, Ok, this isn’t going to be easy. We’re from Wisconsin.

Sally’s mouth dropped. Wow! That is a long ways away. What are you doing in Toole City?

So, is he your dog? He pointing at Hermit Jack.

Sally had lots more questions. However, she decided for now, she’d just answer his question.

No, he’s pretty much the town dog. No one really knows where he came from. He just showed up begging for food one day. Like you said, he’s a bacon bandit.

Will nodded, and then a frown crept across his face. I’m supposed to be going to school, where is it?

Sally literally beamed as she grabbed his arm. Despite his efforts to pry it away from her, Will found himself being drug down the boardwalk toward the end of the street.

I’m twelve, Sally exclaimed. But I’m the only twelve year old in the school, so I get to help the younger kids learn their reading and writing. How old are you?

It seemed impossible, but Will’s frown grew even larger as he visualized this girl helping him read and write.

Ten, but I don’t need no help with readin’ an writin’, he forced a smile at Sally.

She was not detoured and bouncing with glee, she pointed to a big red building at the top of the hill. There’s the schoolhouse!

As the two children rounded the corner leading up the hill, Hermit Jack found himself alone. He lapped up one last drink of water, and lay down next to the boardwalk. His head resting on his front paws. He closed his eyes.

***

Hours later, Jack heard laughter. His tail thumped in the dirt. He did not take his eyes off the corner, as he stood. Eventually, children began pouring out into the streets. Jack was delighted. He broke into a run toward Will and Sally. He greeted them with a quick lick on each of their legs.

They simultaneously shouted, Hi Jack! as the dog ran in circles around them, jumping with glee. Will heartily reached down and rubbed Jack’s belly.

Will heard the clickity-clack of stagecoach wheels coming from behind him. He turned around but nothing was there. Then the dust from the street began to rise into the air. Six horses rounded a corner and stormed down Main Street.

Will’s face broke out into a smile of recognition, as the stage driver cracked his whip high above the horse’s heads. They breezed past Will and Sally, engulfing them in dust. Will started to run toward the stage stop. Sally and Jack simply cocked their heads to the side in unison, as they watched.

Will caught the stage just as a big man jumped down from the driver’s seat. The big man’s face also broke out into a smile of recognition, as he put his huge hand on Will’s shoulder.

Howdy, young feller!

Howdy Andy!

How’s Toole City a-treatin’ ya, Will?

Ah, I’m not really likin’ it much, everything’s new. He paused and looked down at the ground. It’s good seeing someone I already know, he extended his hand.

Andy ignored Will’s hand, and wrapped a big arm around his shoulder. You’ll see me every day at 4 o’clock. Andy untied his bright red bandana and shook it in the air. Dust flew in every direction. Will coughed. Andy reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a shiny gold pocket watch.

Ha Ha Ha, he grinned, Oops… guess some days it’s a little after 4 o’clock.

Andy opened the coach door and out stepped the mine superintendent with a cash box. It was full of the miner’s weekly wages. He nodded in the direction of the saloons. Some of the working girls leaning against the walls gave a simultaneous sigh.

The sigh meant that once again no one new, had come to town. No strangers would be spending their money on the girls, or buying drinks. The blacksmith across the street turned and went back inside. He too would have no paying customers. Several shop doors closed with a thud for the same reason. The sheriff made no movement at all, as if he automatically knew there would be nothing to move for.

Of course, the miners would now have money. They would soon be running to the saloons with their weekly wages burning holes in their pockets. The money would be out on the tables faster than the bartender could pour the drinks.

Will had discovered at least four saloons in the tiny town. Tonight they would be full of shouting, music, and the sound of playing cards hitting the table. Almost every miner would be out, even the superintendent. Although he never drank, he could always be seen leaning against the bar peering out into the crowd for anyone needing a little assistance getting back to the broken down old Jack Creek hotel conveniently located at the mine’s entrance. It had served as a bunkhouse for the unmarried miners since the first day of the silver strike. The superintendent begrudgingly became ‘caretaker’ for most of them. William Warren was one of the few exceptions. Each night he would dutifully return to the room he shared with his son.

Occasionally he did stop and peer over the swinging saloon doors. If anyone recognized him, he would ignore the invitations to come inside with a slight nod. William Warren had far greater plans for his meager salary.

Chapter 2

THE TRIP

Andy’s warmth and his jovial attitude had brightened Will just as it had the first day they met.

Will thought back to that day. It was bright and warm that morning in Laramie Wyoming. He was far too excited to eat breakfast. He walked out of the hotel and headed directly for the stage stop carrying a wooden box. The man in the driver’s seat looked down at him and smiled.

Howdy, young feller, where ya’ headed?

Toole City!

Well now what do you know about that, the man chuckled. He shook off the dust from a bright red bandanna, then wrapped it around his extra-large neck.

The name’s Andy, and that so happens to be where I’m a-taking this here stagecoach.

Andy’s smile was infectious. It went from ear to ear across his broad face. The ends of his handlebar mustache quivered as he talked. Father used to smile like that, Will remembered.

Will noticed Andy nodding at someone behind him. He turned to see his father approaching with a suitcase in each hand. His father smiled, but with a smile nowhere matching Andy’s.

Good Morning, he said to Andy.

How do Sir.

Andy reached out for the two suitcases, placing them on the top of the stage.

Thought I’d have to come back up and throw you out the window to wake you up, son.

Nope!, not me, I’m ready for Colorado! Will didn’t even realize he was shouting.

Will’s shout brought another smile to Andy’s face as he watched the exchange. When he saw Will’s father grabbing the handle to the stage door with one hand and Will with the other, he chuckled.

Sir, I gots a full load today, I’m not sure where we’re a-gonna put that boy of yers.

Will’s father peered into what looked like an empty stage. He looked back and caught Andy’s grin, then he understood.

Hmm… he stroked his chin. I don’t really want to leave him here. Do you have room for him up there?

Only if he minds his manners, and talks my leg off. It’s a mighty long trip to Toole City, and I might fall asleep, ya know.

Will did not wait for his father’s response, he leapt for Andy’s outstretched hand and climbed up onto the stage. Can you hand me my box, Father?

Andy watched quizzically, as Will’s father tenderly lifted up the wooden box. Will placed it on the floorboards under his feet.

Will turned toward the soft, deep voice of his father. Well son, here we go.

The words delighted Will. Yeah finally, he tried to frown in misery, but instead he smiled brightly. He realized the months and months of planning that they had done were finally coming to fruition.

The coach shook as the door opened and a large heavy-set man in a fancy vest ambled inside. Behind him came a smaller man in a black cowboy hat with a brightly dressed woman. The woman had on a hat nearly as big Will’s box. Andy pulled down his own wide-brimmed hat and shouted.

And we’re ready, fifteen hours to Toole City, better get comfortable, he said to no one in particular. Gid up he shouted to the horses, and the coach lurched forward.

***

A sheepish grin scrunched up Will’s face as something brushed against his leg. Looking down, he saw Hermit Jack, the little black and white border collie. The dog just stood there with eyes of wonderment staring up at Will. Next to Jack, stood Sally with the same look of bewilderment.

Ahem, Will cleared his throat and looked away. He wished they had not noticed he was daydreaming. Sally just smiled and hooked her arm in his. Together they started walking on down the wooden boardwalk with Jack right on their heels. However, both Will and Jack were unable to match the exuberance of Sally’s stride.

You keep an eye on those two, Jack, Andy hollered behind them, Don’t be a-leadin’ them to no trouble.

Jack barked and bolted ahead of the two children, as the three of them headed toward the center of town.

Sally turned abruptly into the General store, while Jack and Will obediently followed.

***

Out! shouted a voice from the back of the store. Will and Jack instantly froze.

My father, Sally whispered. He doesn’t like Jack. He’s afraid he’ll knock something over, I guess." She reached down and gently put her arm around the dog and pulled him toward the door. Jack’s tail stopped wagging, and drooped to the wood floor. He tried to shake loose from her grip. However, she did not release him until they were outside again. He was alone again. However, he could still hear the children’s voices, so he turned, and cautiously put one foot inside the doorway. Nobody shouted or called his name and nobody turned to look. He put another foot inside. Then he lay down, with eyes peeled for anything of interest.

Sally’s diminutive bearded father came out from behind a table piled with linens.

Sally, I need you to re-fold and stack all these linens on this table.

Why? Nobody ever buys them. Heck, none of these miners even know what linens are for.

Watch your words, lass!

Then he sharply turned to Will, Who are you, boy?

Uh, my name’s Will.

He just came here from Wisconsin, with his father, Sally interrupted.

The older man paused and burned his gaze into Will. He looked over the boy from head to toe.

hmmph! was all he said.

Then he walked over to the wall and grabbed a broom. I got some sweepin’ you can do. You’ll get a nickel if you do it right.

Will reached for the broom, and paused. He looked at Jack, then Sally. No thank you, Sir, I need to go up to our room, and wait for my father.

Will turned and walked out. Sally saw her father staring at him as he left.

Never heard of a boy turning down honest work I’m not sure I like him.

Sally made her way to the stack of linens. Her usual smile had disappeared.

Will was gingerly stepping over the sleeping dog when shouts from up the street diverted his attention.

***

Jack watched Will disappear into the crowd of people that was already on the street. He stood up and followed the boy’s steps. Will