Gent Johns: The Log of a Cowboy

By Andy Adams

Two books in one!

A new version of an old classic. The Andy Adams western story of driving cattle, in a new easier to read format. Also includes,

How to be a Cowboy, How to be a

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jcw-Books
• Release date: Dec 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9798869075154

Book preview

Gent Johns: The Log of a Cowboy

A Narrative of the Old Trail Days

James Bat Wilkinson and Andy Adams

kdp

Bounty Hunter:

Gent Johns

My name is Gent Johns. I am a young boy who lived on a farm. I am a killer.

I killed my first man when I was thirteen. I killed him because he was going to molest me.

My father was a drunk; I say he was a drunk because of his death. I know he is dead because I made the killing.

Anyway, my father needed money, so he sold me to a perve for thirty-five dollars. He used the money to buy more whiskey. He should have used it to get a place to stay, but he chose to buy whiskey. I will get back to him later.

I was delivered to the local perve by my father. I was in a pine box; it was like being in a coffin. The perve was afraid I might run into the woods and never be seen again. He tied me up in the attic. He liked his victims to be terrified. He figured after a night in the attic I would be more fun to play with. The house he lived in was located deep in the middle of a wilderness. The nearest neighbor had to be four miles away.

I don’t mean four miles down the city street; I mean four miles through thick woods and deep snow. The temperature outside had to be under twenty degrees. The attic was warm, a wood heater was in the room below.

Being in the attic didn’t scare me, but the thought of him sexually using me did. I was determined that it would never happen. I would risk death if necessary. I would kill him if I found the chance.

The perve would come into the attic at odd intervals to tell me how much he loved me. He would also offer hints of what he wanted to do to me. I was thinking of things I wanted to do to him. Things like taking a knife and hacking his head off. He never touched me; he just talked to me.

My life hadn’t been an easy one. I knew what work was, and I knew how to work hard. I said this because I don’t want you to picture an average 13-year-old boy in your head. I was muscular and strong. I was three inches over five feet tall. And I weighed one hundred and forty-five pounds. I was stronger than the house I was tied to. It took me hours, but I managed to break the rafter I was attached to by rope.

Once I was free, I wasted no time. I found my way downstairs, and I located my warden. He was easy to find; he had fallen asleep next to the woodstove. I used my foot, and I slid him across the hardwood floor. He woke up from his dream of molesting and being molested, and I kicked him into the stove. I don’t know what he was  doing in his dreams; I assume it was sexual and perverted. When he contacted the scolding hot wood stove, he screamed in pain like a trapped animal. By trapped, I mean a bear trap crushing their leg. I carried the rafter board and I used it to hit him in the face. I swung the board more than once, and when he was unable to fight back, I dropped the board on the hardwood floor.

He was on the floor staring at me, and I was considering leaving him there alone and taking my chances in the snow. I would’ve left him living, but he had to comment. He couldn’t stop himself from telling me he would track me down and rape me until I was dead. The choice to let him live vanished at that moment in time. The rope that had held me, prisoner, in the attic, was now going to be used to end his life, I wrapped it around his neck, and I tightened it until he was no longer a part of this world. I FELT NOTHING! That was not true. I did feel fear.

He was dead, and I was alone. The fear of dying in this old house in the middle of a wilderness with a dead pervert caused me to stop and think. The first thing I needed was a plan to find a town or at least a place without a dead body.

I instructed myself, Look around for a telegraph machine. He had to have something. Who would live in the middle of a wilderness without some form of communication? I knew I was in the middle of a wilderness from things I heard him tell my father. After an hour of searching, I found one in his shed. The wires should have alerted me of where it was, but in the cold night without sufficient light, I failed to notice them.

Help me, I am in an old house in the wilderness (stop) - I need someone to tell me how to get to civilization (stop). I repeated this message at least a dozen times. I received no response. Not wanting to give up, I sent my message a dozen more times. The sun coming through the dirty window woke me from my nightmares. Try the machine again, I heard myself command. I did and this time I was answered.

I read the response.  Give that location  (stop).

Gray house with a shed- (stop) - Machine is in the shed  (stop) I sent in a telegram.

Describe person (stop) I read.

Thinned hair, long red beard  (stop) -  Skinny, wears overalls  (stop) I sent.

Sounds like Nester  s(top) - Nester the Molester  (stop) I read.

I stared at the radio, and I repeated in my mind what I heard.

I am at Nester’s  (stop).

Hurt you?  (stop).

He did, he’s dead  (stop).

Stay there  ( stop) -  Sending rangers  ( stop).

Give me a direction to travel  (stop) - Don’t need rangers  (stop).

Shed faces north  (stop) -  Walk out the door , keep walking   (stop) -  Get to a stream   (stop) - Turn left   (stop) -  See a trail  ( stop) -  follow trail  (stop) -  Come to a town   (stop) -  Lobo  ( stop) -  Meet there  (stop) -  Old are you?  (stop).

Thirteen, I’m a man  (stop).

After killing one you are   (stop) -  Good luck son   (stop) - over.

The journey to Lobo began as soon as the conversation ended. I had no choice but to trust the directions the stranger had given me on the telegraph. I walked out of the shed, and I kept walking as I had been directed. It wasn’t an easy trek. The snow came up to my knees, and my clothes offered little protection from the cold. It took me hours to find the stream. I had no idea of how far I had traveled.

When the stream became visible, my heart began beating faster; I could feel the blood flowing through my veins and entering my extremities. It was as if I hadn’t been breathing because of anxiety the entire time I had traveled from the gray house to the stream. My chest felt like a chain had been wrapped around it and pulled tight; now the chain had been unlocked and discarded. My discovery of the stream meant that the directions were accurate.

My happiness at successfully finding the stream was short-lived. I wasn’t the only living creature that had traveled to the rushing white water. A wolf had also accomplished the same goal.

I said,

You can drink all the water you desire, Mr. Wolf; I will continue my journey and allow you the enjoyment of the cold rushing water.I remembered to go left, but as I turned my body away from the large white wolf, I saw the other wolves. The first wolf was checking the safety of the area around the stream while the other wolves hid and waited for a signal to advance. The pack of wolves now formed a circle around me.

My knowledge of the world at that time didn’t include how to escape from a pack of wolves. Common sense told me not to make any sudden moves. Any movement at all would be considered threatening. I stood there staring at them, and they stared back at me. I’m not sure how much time went by as I stared at the wolves. The circle did grow smaller and smaller.

My time on this earth appeared to be coming to an end. It wouldn’t be long before the circle closed in tighter, and the wolves devoured my body. I began to pray.

Our Father who is in Heaven, deliver me from evil. Or, in this case, wolves. I know I just killed a man, but I feel it was a justifiable killing. It was him or me, and I chose to kill him before he could kill me. If you can find a good reason to keep me alive, I ask that you make a quick decision and then pluck me from danger. Amen.

Nothing happened; I didn’t know what else to do. I closed my eyes and imagined that I was in the protective arms of my mother. When I opened my eyes, I saw the bears.

There were three bears, one mama bear, and two baby bears. The mama bear was on her back legs and growling at the pack of wolves. She dropped to all four legs and charged at the wolves. The wolves retreated, and they ran off. The bears chased them away from the stream.I managed to sneak away and found the trail During this excitement. The sun was on its way down, and I didn’t want to walk in the dark. I found myself under a tall tree. I climbed the tree and sat down at the y of two limbs. I tied myself in so I couldn’t fall. Sleep came without delay. The night was uneventful.

The sun came up and found me hanging in the tree. I had slipped off the huge branches during the early morning and was hung by the rope around my waist. I managed to pull myself back to the limbs; I untied myself and climbed down from the tree.

My stomach was growling like an angry mother bear. I desperately needed to find food. During my trek through the snow, I kept looking for something to eat. There were no fruit trees, no berries, or even mushrooms to be found. I hoped that I would locate the town called Lobo before I succumbed to hunger. Being only thirteen and uneducated I didn’t know how long a person could go without food. I only knew that I had gone two full days. I did get some water from the stream before I saw the wolves.

Smoke was rising into the cloudless sky. Where there is smoke, there is food. I changed direction and I walked toward the rising smoke. It wasn’t far away from where I was traveling.

The sound of horses could be heard, and the sound of laughter also echoed in my ears. Would these people offer me food? I didn’t know the answer to my question. They wouldn’t give food to a murderer, but they would probably give food to a desperate thirteen-year-old kid. I practiced looking innocent and vulnerable as I neared the encampment.

Stop right there.

A large round man who weighed at least 360 pounds, stepped into my path. He was around forty and had curly hair on his head and his face. I could’ve outrun him, but then I would’ve still been hungry.

He said,

Come on, who are you?

I answered,

My name is Gent Johns; I wandered off from my parents and got lost. I’ve been searching for them for two days. Maybe you’ve seen them? They were traveling in a horse-drawn buggy.

We haven’t seen anyone. Get yourself some grub and then move on.

Thank you, sir. Should I wait for you, or should I just walk up and start serving myself?

Walk with me.

The food was delicious, but the company was frightening. After I was stuffed with deer meat and beans, I thanked my new acquaintances and started my journey refreshed.

One of the men from the group of outlaws followed me for a few miles. I knew they were outlaws because they talked about the places they had robbed and the people they had shot.

Outlaws that give you food are better than law-abiding citizens who don’t lend a helping hand.I never saw the man come up from the rear and strike me in the back of my head. Darkness enveloped me, and my mind went numb.

Three hours later, my eyes opened, and I was looking into the eyes of the fat man. He was eating some kind of sausage. His hair was sticking to his neck, and his bulging eyes were protruding from his sockets even more than usual.

The fat man said,

You lied to me, I followed you, and you weren’t looking for your parents or anyone else. You were on your way to Lobo. You were going to tell the Sheriff about the boys and me.

I said,

I was heading to Lobo, but not to get the Sheriff. I killed a man the other night. I was going to find some food and a place to hide out for a while.

He said,

You killed a man? That’s hard to believe. It’s easier to believe that you were getting the Sheriff. You could get a reward for turning us into the law.

Fat man hit me with a powerful haymaker. His huge fist landed on the side of my head. My ear began to ache like a sore tooth. He struck me several more times. He ran out of strength and had to sit down. He started panting like a dog, and he held his chest.

I took the opportunity to fight back. I kicked him with my boots until he fell on his side. He curled up like a big ball trying to protect himself from my boots. He didn’t realize that he was exposing his pistol to me. I grabbed his pistol. The smooth white grip felt good in my hand. I pointed it at him. He looked at me but didn’t speak to me. He lunged at me, and I pulled the trigger three times, and he was dead. The first bullet could have killed him. The second bullet had to have killed him. The third bullet left no doubt that he was dead.

I was only four when my mother died. Somehow, I was able to remember her face. She was a pretty lady with brown hair and blue eyes. I often slip into a dream world where my mother is alive and happy when I am sleeping. She makes sure I am properly fed and clean.

The real world was not like the dream world. The real world was harsh and violent. It was murder or be murdered. It was, I got your back, but I might stab you in the back. You have to live in the real world. Two men dead in less than four days, both dead by my hand. Was mama looking down at me with anger in her spirit or was she proud that I took care of myself? Nothing to do but keep moving, get to Lobo, rest, and make a new plan.

My face was hurting bad and I’m talking about serious, bad pain. I couldn’t see myself, but I knew it was cut and swollen. I also knew that the other outlaws would attempt to track the fat man. I had to keep moving.

This time I didn’t stop when the sun went down. I made it to Lobo, and I met the man that sent the telegraph. He was old; I mean sixties old. His name was Ned. Ned was a good, trustworthy guy. I say he was a good, trustworthy guy because he died. I didn’t kill him.

Ned took me to his farm and allowed me to sleep in his barn. He also patched up my face, and most important of all; Ned never talked about what I had done. I went to his funeral.Ned also fought with me when the outlaws attacked his farm. They had tracked me to the farm. They had heard the gunshots when I shot the fat man, they found the body, and then they showed up at Ned’s home.

The morning after I arrived and slept in the hayloft, it started well. Ned checked my face again, I got to take a shower, and I was fed.  The sun was shining, and I took a swim in a pond. It went bad fast. First, the sun went away, and a thunderstorm blew in hard and fast. Limbs were snapped in two and fell to the ground. A great big limb fell from an oak tree and landed on the roof of Ned’s house. It knocked a hole in the roof and the rain came pouring in through the hole.

While we were busy trying to keep the rain out, another tree limb landed on the fence, and three horses ran off. Sometime during all of this commotion, the outlaws arrived. The wind had slowed, and the rain had slackened, and we were on the roof patching the hole. A gun was fired, and the bullet whizzed past my head. I lay flat on the roof. Ned also got as low as possible; he then dropped through the hole in the roof and landed on the floor below. I did the same; I landed wrong and twisted my ankle.

We ran into the bedroom and Ned unlocked the gun case. I wrapped an old towel around my sore ankle. He handed me two rifles and a pistol.

We walked over to the windows and opened two of them. The rain had stopped. We looked out and didn’t see anyone. We waited for one of the outlaws to reveal themselves. Our patience paid off when one of them stood up and fired at us. The shooter had a bad angle and missed the shot. Ned, on the other hand, had a good angle on the shooter. He took the shot and the outlaw fell backward into the wet grass. There was a 1917 Ford in the front yard. It had belonged to Ned’s father. The outlaws managed to crank the sedan, driving it into the house’s double front doors caused the doors to burst open.

The outlaws had put a rag in the opening to the fuel tank. The rag was lit, and the outlaws had jumped out of the Ford. The car exploded and set the house on fire. This made my new friend angry. He rushed through the fire and out the front door. I went out a window and met him at the edge of the yard.

The remaining outlaws are nowhere to be seen. Ned runs to the water pump and unrolls a hose; he turns the water on and sprayed water on the burning house. I stayed behind a tree and looked for the outlaws. I saw one of them as he stuck his head out from behind a tree. I lined up the scope with my target and pulled the trigger. The man dropped to the ground. I heard a noise at my rear, and I spun around in time to see another outlaw. He didn’t expect me to hear him. When I spun around, I caught him off guard, and I knocked the gun out of his hand.

I pulled the pistol from the holster I wore on my hip, and I shot him in the stomach. I screamed that I would shoot him again if his partner didn’t give himself up. The outlaw surrendered and I locked him in the barn. The outlaw who surrendered was my father.

My father said,

Calm down, Gent, you’re not going to shoot your father, are you?If I have to, I will. I killed the pervert you sold me to.

That was an accident; I didn’t know he was a child molester. I was drunk.

That is not the truth; you weren’t drunk when you met him. You spent several days with him before you got drunk. Lord only knows what you and he did together. You sold your son for money so you could buy more whiskey. What kind of a father does that?

A lousy one.

Go help Ned put the fire out.

I opened the barn door. My father did what I asked him to do. The two men managed to put the fire out. The house was damaged, but it could be repaired. My father wanted to search the house for liquor.

The outlaw that I shot in the stomach died. I held a rifle on my father as he buried the dead outlaws. We spent the week repairing the house. I worked while Ned pointed a rifle at our prisoner. Then we changed positions and I held the rifle while Ned worked on his house.

My father admitted that he sold me to a known sex offender. He told us that he used the money at a saloon in Lobo. He spent it on booze and women. When the money ran out, he joined with the outlaws and robbed a general store in a town called Peace. They were laying low when I walked into their camp, asking for food.

He decided to leave on the eighth night of my father’s stay with us. He attempted to sneak away into the darkness of the wilderness. He would have escaped without any issue if he hadn’t searched the house for liquor. He didn’t find any strong drink, but he did find a gun. His plan changed, and he wakes Ned and demands him to find some whiskey.

Ned had been an alcoholic years ago, but he hasn’t had a drink in twenty years. He explained this to my dad, but he wouldn’t listen. The pistol was aimed at Ned and the finger was on the trigger. My father shot Ned in the chest. In an attempt to rescue Ned, I shot my father in the side of his head. Both men died.

The Sheriff allowed me to ride back to Ned’s place in the wagon with him. I had walked the five miles to his office early that morning. The news of Ned’s death saddened him.

Sheriff Hardy said,

tell me again what happened here. Don’t leave anything out.

I said,

"my father,  Sam Johns, came here to see Ned. He brought me with him. I was unaware that my father was involved with a bunch of outlaws. The outlaws showed up here at the farm. They were upset over the death of the fat man. They thought my father had killed the fat man.

There was a gunfight, and the outlaws were killed. Then last night my father and Ned got in a fight. Ned was mad because the outlaws burned his house, and he blamed my dad. I heard them fighting and the words gun and kill, so I  brought a rifle with me. When I got to them, I saw my father pointing a gun at Ned. I told my father to drop his gun. He told me he was going to kill Ned and me. We shot at the same time. He shot and killed Ned. I shot and killed Sam."

We found the body of the fat outlaw; we also found the other bodies. They were all wanted by the law. Your father was also a wanted man. I have to give the rewards to someone. It might as well be you.

How much money are we talking about?

We are talking about $800.

That’s a lot of money; I think I’ll move into a hotel. If you have more wanted outlaws, I will find them  for you.

Sheriff Hardy gave me a look. The look asked the question, are you crazy?

He then said,

it’s your life. Ride back with me and I’ll give you the money.  Then we can go to the Carlton Hotel in Peace and get you a room. If you grab some wanted posters, I can’t stop you.

I turned fourteen at the hotel. I celebrated by buying myself some jeans and a long warm coat. My new horse was stabled, and my new pistol and holster were hanging on the wall of my hotel room. The room I was renting had an indoor outhouse. There was a huge tub with brass bear paws in the indoor outhouse, taking bubble baths in the tub was one of my favorite things.

Sometimes I paid a young lady to clean my room; she would wear clothes that exposed her legs.

She would gather all the plates I left in the room when I ordered my supper. Now and then she would bring me a free glass of chocolate milk. Sheriff Hardy would ride down from Lobo and check on me. He never did bring me any wanted posters. I was planning to make the trip to Lobo on my horse and get them myself. If practice makes perfect, I should be great at shooting a pistol. I practiced shooting every day.

I woke up early and walked to the stables. I saddled my horse and headed out to Lobo. Lobo is about nine miles away from Peace. It was a perfect day to travel. The sun was warm and there were no rain clouds in the sky. Mudder my horse was also enjoying the day. Mudder loved to run, he was strong, and he was quick. He would run all day and jump over creeks if I wanted him to. The only thing that kept Mudder from running was mud.  My horse hated to walk or run in the mud. I believe he had an unnatural fear of mud.

We were halfway to Lobo when the first bullet whizzed past my head. The second shot didn’t miss; it struck me in the left shoulder. I made myself a smaller target by leaning forward, and I directed Mudder into the woods that were adjacent to the trail. I dismounted and I tied the horse to a tree.

The bullet had only grazed the top of my shoulder, so it didn’t hurt that much. I had no idea who was taking shots at me, but I intended to find out. I ran from tree to tree as I advanced toward the trail. I was hoping to see who I was in danger of being killed by. I caught a glimpse of a small, long-haired man wearing an old torn suit. I didn’t recognize him.

Using a large popular tree for cover, I yelled at the man.

Who are you, and why are you shooting at me.

The man answered my question.

I have reason to believe you killed my brother.

Who was your brother?

His name was Wade. He was overweight and had red hair.

You’re talking about the fat outlaw. Your brother Wade beat me with his huge fat fist. He was going to kill me. I killed him in self-defense. We should forget about this and go our separate ways. I have to tell you; I’m good with a pistol.

Not leaving until one of us is dead.

I didn’t respond to him, so he repeated his statement.

I said I’m not leaving until one of us is dead.

While he was talking and waiting for my response, I was sneaking my way through the edge of the woods. I managed to get behind him.

I heard you the first time. Throw your gun away and turn around.

He grabbed his gun and turned his body in my direction. I fired my pistol twice; one bullet entered his chest, and one entered his stomach. He slumped forward and fell to the ground. I had killed again.

Since he was a small man, I was able to lay him across his horse. I retrieved Mudder and resumed my trip to Lobo. The sky was still clear when I arrived at the Sheriff’s office. He was surprised to see me.

Who have you shot this time, Gent? My word that’s Wayne, the brother of Wade. I owe you some more reward money. You’re bleeding.

I’m fine, Sheriff Hardy. Let me have some of those wanted posters.

Help yourself, but please be careful.

Hey, why don’t you hire me, two good men, with my reward money and give me the rest? I’m going to pick one of these wanted men and bring him back to you.

Here’s $200; I will get Raincloud and Running Bull, best trackers in this area. Don’t forget you are still a kid.

Turned fourteen, I’m old enough to join the army.

I chose an outlaw named Tommy Cook. At fourteen, Tommy left home, his mother had died, and his father wasn’t around. He did several legal jobs before he became a lawbreaker. Tommy had worked as a farmhand on a large cattle ranch; he also had tended bars in saloons.

Some men approached him while serving drinks; they told him he could make a fortune if he sold guns and whiskey to the Indians. He was caught and sentenced to eighty days in jail. When Tommy Cook was released, he put together The Mud Brothers gang. The Mud Brothers robbed banks and trains.

The Mud Brothers didn’t start In Colorado, where I wrote most of this journal. Like other outlaws and gangs, they came to Colorado to hide from the Federal Agents. There are a lot of mountains, making it an excellent place to hide. Sheriff Hardy introduced me to Raincloud and Running Bull. After the comments about how young I was were finished, we began to plan our mission.

You can’t even grow a mustache yet and you think you can capture these outlaws?

This is an example of questions asked because of my age.

The gang had been seen near Grand Junction. Lobo was far away from Grand Junction. I rented a room for the night, and the next morning, my two trackers and I started our journey. We were starting at Bullhead City . We were planning to follow the Colorado River all the way there.

We hoped we would locate them before we reached Grand Junction. Raincloud was confident they would find something that would lead us to the gang. If Sheriff Hardy was confident, they were the best around; that was good enough for me.

I waited for my trackers to arrive; they rode up together. Our first stop was at the Sheriff of Bullhead City’s office. The Sheriff was in, but he swore he hadn’t seen a trace of The Mud Brothers. We went to all the businesses in town; we finally had some good news at the last stop. The general store owner claimed to have sold three men matching the descriptions some gear. He said they had bought some rope, beans and ham, and ammunition.

We asked him what direction they took. He was certain they were on their way to Grand Junction. We thanked him and went on our way. Raincloud decided the outlaws would stay near the river. Our horses acted like they knew where to go, so we gave them free rein, and the horses took us to the river. We dismounted and allowed the horses to drink from the water. Running Bull studied the terrain, and he was able to locate the route the Mud Brothers took.

We mounted our horses and rode the same direction as the outlaws. Along the way, both trackers found evidence that we were on the right track. Our reasoning told us we were a day behind the gang.

We continued until the night was too dark for us to see the trail. Running Bull found us a good place to camp for the night. Our first night as official bounty hunters was uneventful.

No time was wasted getting back on the trail the following day. To try to close the gap between the Mud Brothers and us, we rode our horses hard as we pursued the wanted men. We made  good time until something unexpected happened. On or around 3:00 in the afternoon the outlaws found us.

Riding Bull said,

Don’t look yet, but we have company. Three riders are approaching on the left.

Raincloud said,

When I say go, head as fast as possible to those large rocks. Go!

We kicked our horses and charged for the rocks. We dismounted and tied our horses to a tree behind the rocks. We found advantageous spots and waited for the outlaws to get there.

I said,

Here they come. Get ready to shoot, but don’t shoot unless we have no other choice.

The Mud Brothers rode up, and they dismounted. They stared at the rocks in an attempt to see if we were there. They got back on their horses and rode right past us. We all breathed a sigh of relief. We waited another twenty minutes and then we climbed down from the rocks and got back on our horses.

I said,

Do you think we should go after them or wait and see what happens? I don’t know if they spotted us or not. Or they could have seen the horses.

Both trackers answered,

We wait.

Raincloud said,

That was too easy.

A rifle fired from a distance. The bullet hits Raincloud in the chest, and he falls to the ground. I dove off of Mudder and pulled my pistol out of my holster. Running Bull also dove to the ground. He dragged Raincloud behind some trees and removed his shirt. He wrapped the shirt around Raincloud’s chest to stop the blood from flowing out of the wound.

I said,

Take him back to Bullhead City. I will go after them alone.

I sent the trackers back, and I rode away on Mudder. Nothing was going to stop me from finishing the job. There was one thing that could keep me from finishing, and that would be death.

As I rode the trail, I kept looking for signs of the other travelers. Running Bull had taught me what to look for. I found what I was searching for. The ground was soft, and I could see horseshoe prints. The outlaws must’ve thought I would go back with the trackers. They were no longer worried about being tracked.I stopped riding and found a place to sleep at around seven pm. I located a flat area near the river. The outlaws were most likely miles ahead of me; I didn’t attempt to conceal my horse or myself. That night I decided that I was going to ride hard in the morning and catch up to the Mud Brothers.

I was back on the trail early the following morning. I assumed the outlaws were not too far away. I expected to see them within the hour. I realized I didn’t have a plan. How many men was I following? How was I going to capture them?

The outlaws were in sight; I was watching them through my binoculars. I counted three men. The time to act had come. I circled them and then dismounted. I tied my horse to a tree, and I removed my rifle. I was wearing two pistols, one on each hip.

I snuck up on them and aimed my rifle at the largest outlaw.

I said, Drop your weapons, do it now.

Two of the men, including the one where I was aiming my rifle, dropped their pistols on the ground. The third man pulled his pistol and twisted his body around to face me. I was faster than he was, and I shot him in the chest. The man I was aiming my rifle at, fell to the ground and grabbed his pistol. He managed to get a shot off, and the bullet entered my left thigh and then lodged in a tree behind me. I reacted and shot him in the head.

The third outlaw put his hands in the air and surrendered. He tied the two dead outlaws onto their horses. The Sheriff had loaned me a pair of handcuffs and some leg shackles. I held a gun on him, and the third man put the shackles on and then the handcuffs. I instructed him to mount his horse and led him to where I had left my horse.

All I had to do then was to get back to Lobo. I rode behind the outlaw. The horses that were transporting the dead men were tied to Mudder.

Twenty-one days later, we arrive at the Sheriff’s office in Lobo. I was told that Raincloud had died on the way back. When I received my pay, I gave Running Bull an extra hundred dollars to give to the family of Raincloud.

Those three weeks of traveling had not been easy. I would wrap the leg chains around a tree when we stopped to camp. And I had to do some hunting to feed myself and my prisoner. I was ecstatic when we reached the sheriff’s office in Bullhead.

As I made my way back to Lobo, I decided to do something else. Hunting men for a reward is dangerous. I was ready to try another less dangerous occupation.

Cowboy:

                                            Gent Johns

The trail boss Cook E Niles was cooking beef stew. Where’s Gent, he still wrangling cattle?

He’s not eating tonight, Cook; he said he quit.

"Who was with him? Did he leave with Aggie?

Timberjoe answered, He was with somebody; I couldn’t see who it was.

Timberjoe didn’t like me; he was jealous of the attention Cook gave me. I tried not to be bothered by this, and I tried my best to make him like me.

I already told that young man to stay away from Aggie. Aggie Is no good. He’s a liar and a cheat. He claims he won money gambling, but I know he stole that money. And he works for a bad outfit.

Timberjoe agreed with Cook. He always agreed with Cook. He wanted to have his ranch some day and needed to keep this job. He needed the job for money but also to gain real information about the day-to-day business of running a cattle ranch.

Cook said, He doesn’t have to quit if he is running around with that bunch of cattle thieves at Gold Bar Ranch. I’ll fire him and save him the trouble.

Timberjoe said, I wouldn’t talk bad about Aggie or the Gold Bar Ranch; they collect gun slingers the way people collect stamps. He’d love to have a reason to shoot you.

I’m not afraid of Aggies father or his gun slingers. He better be afraid of me. If he steals another cow, I might shoot him.

I was fifteen when I got my job on this small cattle ranch. The owner of the ranch was Cook E Niles. The ranch was called Cookie Ranch. Not the best name for a ranch, but it was a great place to work. I got to live in the boarding house with the other hired hands. I still had money in the bank from when I was a bounty hunter, but I was smart enough to know that the money wouldn’t last.

I was hired to help with the cattle and to repair fences. I was also hired because I had a reputation as being good with a gun. I was becoming friends with the son of a rival ranch. I needed to know how many guns they had, so I knew what to expect if things went bad. I was working with Timberjoe. Timberjoe was the foreman.

I surprised everyone when I showed up for supper. I sat down at the table beside Timberjoe. He gave me a look and then continued to eat. I had heard the entire conversation while I was waiting to enter the room. Cook said, I heard you were out spending time with Aggie.

Yes, sir, I was. By the way, I never said I was quitting; what I said was I will quit when I’m ready to quit.

I thought I warned you about him and that ranch.

I remember, I was just sharing stories with Aggie. Nothing to worry about.

Cook said, I don’t want you to quit. I like having you around."

Timberjoe wants me to quit.

Timberjoe isn’t the owner; I am.

Later that night, I was alone with Timberjoe. We were on our horses riding the perimeter of the ranch. We found no intruders, man or animal.

Timberjoe, I have some news for you. Tom Miller is in town. You know who Tom Miller is; you killed his brother and two other men in a gunfight in Montana.

We were all playing poker in a saloon called One Eye. I was winning, and they took offense. They pulled their guns, so I pulled out my .44. When it was all said and done, three men were dead. It was a fair game of cards, and it was a good shooting. I was defending myself.

I’d stay away from him. We don’t need any trouble.

If he is in town, I’m not going to hide from him.

I wish you would consider finding a way to not hide from him but also not do something that could have harmful repercussions.

The next day all the ranch employees met in the dining room for breakfast. Mr. Niles announced while we were eating our hot cakes and sausage.

As most of you know, we sold Jake Moore forty head of cattle. I need to send two of you to collect the money. I’m sending Timberjoe and Gent. There is more news; I’m purchasing the Hovis farm. Buying this land will give the cattle a steady supply of water.

After breakfast, Timberjoe sent all the workers out to do their jobs. I then prepared to ride out to the Moore property. We packed extra bullets in case we ran into trouble.

Cook rode up to where I was preparing for the ride. He had a serious expression on his face. I finished tightening my saddle and gave him my full attention.

Cook said, I want you to keep an eye on Timberjoe for me. He’s a good hand, but he can be a hot head. Do your best to keep him out of trouble.

I said, I’ll do my best. See you when we return.

It took me over an hour to catch up with Timberjoe. It took another hour for us to get to the Moore farm. We dismounted and tied our horses and gave them fresh water to drink. Timberjoe knocked on the door of the yellow two-story house. Jake Moore opened the door and greeted us.

Nice to see you again Timberjoe, who’s your new friend?

Good to see you too; this is Gent Johns. Gent is our new hired hand.

Nice to meet you, Gent. I said, Nice to meet you.

Timberjoe said, Now that all the pleasantries are out of the way, we are here to collect money for Cook E Niles. He sold you some cattle last month.

Jake said, I have the money; here it is. There is $410 in this envelope.

Timberjoe said, Thanks, we’ll see you around.

We rode away from the ranch. Timberjoe placed the envelope in his saddle bag. We stopped at the edge of town.

I said, We don’t know who else knows about the money. If one of our ranch hands mentioned it to someone, we could be in danger.

Timberjoe said, Do you know why they call me Timberjoe? Because when I get in a fight, people drop like timber being cut down. We’ll be fine.

Timberjoe wanted to go to the saloon, I attempted to change his mind, but I failed. My brain was racing through all the scenarios of bad things that could happen inside the saloon. I could picture one of us dying.

We went inside the Buzz Saloon, and Timberjoe went straight to the bar and started drinking whiskey. Two hours go by, and he’s still drinking. I see Tom Miller walk into the saloon. Tom Miller locates Timberjoe, but he doesn’t approach him. Instead, he sat down at a table.

I walked over to the bar, telling Timberjoe about Tom Miller. I told him we needed to get back to the Cookie Ranch. He pushed me away. Tom made his way to the bar. Tom said,

Leave him alone; he doesn’t need you babysitting him. He doesn’t need a baby like you telling him what to do.

I said, I’m no baby; I’m a reasonable adult. We don’t need bad blood to cause us to shoot each other. We should walk away from each other.

Timberjoe said, Leave him alone, Tom. I heard you were in town and that you were looking for me. Now leave this saloon; your mother could lose another son if you don’t.

I’m not going anywhere.

Fine, tell me who here is with you? How many people am I up against?

It’s just you and me.

Tom Miller’s hand went for his gun. He was quick, but Timberjoe was quicker. Tom’s pistol never cleared his holster. Tom died with two bullets in him. A door at the saloon’s rear opened and Aggie entered the room with a rifle in his hands. I reached for my gun, and I shot four times. A bullet hits Timberjoe right between his eyes; he drops like timber. Even though I put four bullets into Aggie, I was unable to save Timberjoe. Aggie toppled over and landed on the sawdust floor.

I scanned the room, looking for another gun being drawn. Nobody else was threatening me. I walked out of the saloon’s swinging doors into the bright sunshine. I got on Mudder, leading Timberjoe’s horse to the ranch.

We all attended the funeral; the rain held off until it was over. His parents had been notified by telegram. They were sending a relative to collect his belongings. The Sheriff questioned me about the shooting. The shooting was judged to be legal. I knew there would be repercussions.

I said, Cook, we need to be prepared for anything. There is no way that the Gold Bar Ranch want try to get revenge on us.

Cook said, "I hope and pray you are wrong, but I think you are right. I’ll make some changes. For now, no one will work alone.

I want at least five people at every work site."

Good idea. We should also issue everybody a rifle.

We were on high alert for a week. Nothing else happened and the men started to get careless. That’s when they struck.

Three men were mending fences when they rode in on their horses. A mob of about twenty attacked the three men. They pistol-whipped them and hung them on a huge oak tree by their necks.

The mob rode off and regrouped; they then gathered on a hilltop and waited for the hanged men to be discovered. They then shot the ranch hands, who were cutting the bodies down. We lost seven men in one day.

The following day Cook, and two men rode to the Gold Bar Ranch. I was one of the men that went; Cook wanted to negotiate a truce.

Cook said,

Paul, we need to decide how to stop this feud. The gun fight between Timberjoe and Tom Miller was just that; it was their fight. It didn’t concern us or our ranches. I don’t know why Aggie shot Timberjoe; I do know that when Gent shot Aggie, he was defending Timberjoe. Let’s agree to end this.

An agreement was not reached. Paul Gold made us leave his property.

Cook went home to his ranch. I went and saw Sheriff Hardy. The Sheriff made some wanted posters and put them up on his wall. The men that hung the ranch hands and the men who shot from the hill were now wanted dead or alive.

At 5:15 in the afternoon, the train from Texas arrived. Meek Moe Hanson stepped off the train and looked for his host. Cook E. Niles, greeted him and they climbed into the horse drawn wagon.

Cook was a large man; he stood tall at six feet and two inches. He weighed around two hundred and thirty pounds.

He appeared small next to Meek Moe. Meek was six foot and six inches tall and weighed two hundred and eighty pounds.

Cook said,

Glad you could make it. I want to introduce the young man driving the wagon. This is Gent Johns. As we discussed earlier, The Gold Bar Ranch has declared war on my ranch. They have more gunslingers than I do. I’m bringing you here to remedy that problem.

Meek,

I know some people who I can contact. I can have fifty men here by Friday. That’s four days from now. While we wait for them to arrive, we can make plans of how to utilize the men.

I said,

Rumer has it, they are planning to attack the boarding house on Saturday. We should remove almost everyone from the house and hide them in the woods. When they show up and approach the boarding house, we could come out of the woods and surprise them.

Meek,

How many people do you think they have?

At least forty.

Cook said,

Good thinking, Gent. I approve of that plan. What do you think Meek?

I can work with it. They will attack when it gets dark. They could be surrounded before they become aware the boarding house is almost empty.

Paul Gold was in bed when the message got to him. The message was about Meek Moe being seen in town. Paul Gold was the father of Aggie. He was a heavy-set man with a cruel face. He figured Moe was here to aid Cook. Gold wanted revenge for his son’s death; he also wanted revenge for Tom Miller. The Gold family and the Miller family had always been allies.

He didn’t want to have this dispute affect the town. The town was full of women and children. The last thing he wanted was for some innocent people to get caught up in this dispute and get injured or killed. All the killings in the world wouldn’t bring back his son.

Paul got out of bed, and after dressing in his work clothes, he located his other son, Paul junior. Paul Junior was a hard-hearted man. He wanted trouble and bloodshed regardless of the cost.

Paul said,

Good morning, Junior, I want to talk to you about this feud we are in against Cookie Ranch. I think we need to make a truce agreement and end the bloodshed.

Junior said,

That is not going to happen. I am not stopping until I feel they have paid in blood for the deaths of Aggie and Tom. Nothing or nobody is changing my mind. Not even you.

Don’t speak to me that way; I’m your father. I can disown you and change my will.

I’m a man now, not a child. Go get your holster and pistol; we can settle this like men.

I am wearing my gun now. This jacket conceals it; I’m not drawing a gun on my son.

Your choice; I’ve been dreaming of this day for years.

Paul Gold walked outside, and Junior followed him. They stood back-to-back, and then each man walked thirty steps. Paul Gold drew his pistol and faced his son; he hesitated for a split second and then pulled the trigger. Junior was faster, he fired, and the bullet slammed into his father’s chest. A second bullet slammed into his abdomen. Paul’s shot missed, Paul doubled over and fell to the hard ground.

Bonnie Gold, Paul’s wife, and Junior’s mother ran out of the house. She saw her husband on the ground dead. She got in Junior’s face.

What have you done? You killed your father.

It was four in the morning when I returned to the boardinghouse. I woke everyone and made them get out of their beds. After drinking some strong coffee, I shared my idea.

As you all know, the Gold Bar Ranch crew are supposed to attack us tonight. I just left the Buzz Saloon; most of the Gold Bar crew was there celebrating the fact that Paul Gold Junior is now the owner. They are all very drunk. I think we should leave now and attack them. Sheriff Hardy has declared half of them to be wanted men. Wanted dead or alive, Sheriff Hardy is willing to join us.

We voted, and the vote to attack was selected. We assembled on the newly purchased Hovis farm. Meek’s men hadn’t arrived yet; they were expected to arrive sometime after the sun rose.

We began our ride to the Gold Bar Ranch a little after six in the morning. We planned to surround their boardinghouse and to demand them to give themselves up to Sheriff Hardy. We were not planning on firing our guns unless we were fired upon.

When we got to the ranch, the front gate was locked. A tall fence enclosed the main house and barns and the boarding house. We used a stick of dynamite to get through the gate. We knew the explosion would spoil our advantage of surprise, so we raced through the open gate and formed a circle around the two-story boarding house. Sheriff Hardy led the group of riders. Once everyone was in position, Sheriff Hardy dismounted from his horse and knocked on the front door. He stood to the side of the door and waited for the door to open.

The door remained shut, and then a blast from a shotgun blew a hole through the wooden door. The Sheriff jumped off the front porch and found a tree to hide behind, everyone on horseback urged their horses into a trot, and the men began to fire at the house. After running around the house several times, they got off their horses and looked for places to conceal themselves from the gunslingers inside the boardinghouse.

The drunken gunmen inside the boardinghouse, kept exposing themselves in the windows, and several were killed. There were several large trees around the boardinghouse, and the men from The Cookie Ranch took advantage of them. Not one of their men had been shot.

The gunmen from The Bar Ranch surrendered. They threw their weapons out the windows and through the front entrance. They walked out of the house and gave themselves up to the Sheriff. Meek Moes men arrived and helped Sheriff Hardy escort the prisoners to jail. Paul Junior was not one of the men who surrendered.

Hidden:

Gent Johns

Iwas hiding in the tall grass with my face in the dirt; I could smell the strong scent of honeysuckle weeds. Someone was tracking me. The unrelenting sun was cooking my skin and bugs traveled across my body. I needed to stay hidden until the sun went down and then I hoped to crawl to the river and float downstream.

It had been a month since Sheriff Hardy arrested several of the Gold Bar Ranch’s employees.  Paul Gold wasn’t among the arrested men, and he hadn’t been seen since that night. I was almost certain he was the one tracking me.

My plan fell apart when I heard the sound of hoofbeats coming my way. Paul Gold and three other riders were riding at a rapid pace. They come to a halt fifteen feet from where I was hiding.

Don’t worry, men; we’ll get him. If we don’t find him today, I’ll ride to the Cookie Ranch and kill him there.

He laughs and pulls a rifle out of a saddlebag.

Did I say we? I meant I, as in only me. Not you or you. Tell me, what are your jobs at my ranch.

Hobb said,

We are in charge of security.

Was my ranch secure when the sheriff and those jokes from the Cookie Ranch attacked the boardinghouse?

Hobb shook his head in a manner that suggested no. Jim remained silent and avoided making eye contact with Paul.

Paul shot Hobb in the chest with his rifle. Hobb looked surprised for a second and then fell forward onto his horse’s neck. Jim spurred his horse and attempted to ride away from Paul. Paul allowed him to think he might get away and then raised his rifle and shot Jim off his horse.

He was facing away from where I was hiding as he watched Jim ride off. I sprang to my feet, and I ran and leaped onto his back. We fell off the black horse and onto the ground. I yanked the rifle out of his hands and used it to strike him. He retreated and I closed the distance and punched him in the nose. The punch stunned him, and I punched him a second time. I then shoved him into a huge boulder. His head bounced off the hard surface, and he went down.

I laid him across his saddle and tied him to the horse with a rope he had attached to his saddle. The other two horses ran off. It was dark when I began the trip back to Lobo.The band of outlaws came out of nowhere; they must have been hiding in the tall grass like I was. I yelled when a hand grabbed me from below and pulled me off Mudder. I was hog-tied, and a canvas bag was placed over my head. I was hit in the head with what I assume was a rifle butt. I woke up in a locked room next to Paul Gold.

Paul said,

About time you woke up; who do you think took us?

I answered,

though they were your friends.

No, they’re not my friends. I’ve made a lot of enemies; these people could be anybody.

I agree. I’ve made a lot of enemies too.

I started to move around the room. I was looking for a way out. The walls were solid, and the door was made out of steel. There was no window.

I said,

I think we are in a warehouse. Our best option is to wait until someone opens the door. We can be prepared to overpower whoever opens it.

I looked at Paul and he shook his head and said no.

I have a better plan.

He hit me and knocked me down. I managed to get to my feet, and I charged him. I tackled him, and we both fell. He was on top of me, and he was choking me. Somehow, I was able to roll us over, and I was on top of him.

The door opened, and we sprang to our feet. We were too slow. An older man with a gun was standing in the doorway.

Which one of you is Paul Gold? You’re too young.

He said to me.

You must be Paul Gold.

He said to Paul.

The old outlaw told me I could go. I walked out of the room into a small warehouse.