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Cactus Jack Calder

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About Cactus Jack Calder

  • Birthday 12/07/1944

Previous Fields

  • SASS #
  • SASS Affiliated Club
    Cross Creek Cowboys

Profile Information

  • Gender
  • Location
    Whispering Pines, The Old North State
  • Interests
    Grandkids, Shooting, RC Planes, Scale 1 Live Steam RR, Moutain Dulcimer, Native American Flute, Wood Carving small figures

Recent Profile Visitors

  1. Cuel where can I buy one? What’s it get 2mpg? CJ
  2. Got this from the NRA for something. Probably when I took the Life membership. It holds an edge and is handy for one hand operation; while holding the work subject, usually a cardboard box. It has one of those pocket clips on the other side. That doesn’t work worth a fig. Lost it twice because of the lousy clip. Found it in my chair. 2 3/4” blade, NC limit is 3” so I’m safe there. No automatics or flip blades (inertia operated) allowed. CJ
  3. WOW I wasn’t paying attention! September 9, 1970 I jumped Ship. Your right Utah, who’d a thunk it. I went right to school to register. GI Bill paid tuition and now I are an injuneer. Like Bob I was married, Susan taught school and I went to college. With credit from college before the Navy I graduated in September 1972 (after one last course in summer school). Great memories, thanks for reminding me. CJ
  4. Doc and Jack showed Capper where the Captain was set up, then Doc headed to the Henderson’s camp to see Abby and Jack split off towards the home spread. Jack’s route passed through the pasture where Doc’s cattle were settled. Looking over the small herd Jack was satisfied that this time all was well. He moved through the wood lot the rustlers had used to try and bushwhack them looking for sign of the third rider. Finding the trail was easy at first, the man had galloped away leaving clear tracks. Moving along he saw the man had drawn his horse down to a lope shortly after crossing a ridge and moved into a stream. There were no tracks of him exiting the stream. Jack wondered, ‘Which way did he go, up or down stream? The Hammond spread is south towards town. If this man was working for Hammond he’d likely head back to the ranch and have people there provide him with an alibi. On the other hand if this was Frezzel he might be hightailing it out of the area.’ Jack turned north following the stream bed looking for tracks of the third man leaving the stream. Two miles on Jack found a shelf of shale along the west bank that had slight scaring. Jack had become a ‘fair to midlin’ tracker in the Texas panhandle country. Trailing Comanche warriors when they were on a horse raid, Jack had learned to track from the best against the best. Once past the shale bank, he found scarce tracks, but enough to know he was onto the third man’s trail. There was that gauge in the shoe plain as day. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” Jack mumbled to his horse. The tracks continued heading west for five more miles, then swung north. “That wily son of a gun, I’ll bet he’s headed for Hammond’s place after all. I’ll tell you what, Pancho, we’ll trail him as far as we can without being spotted. If he goes to the Hammond headquarters we can’t very well try and grab him. There will be too many people there for one man to handle. Even a Texas Range has to know his limits.” Jack opined to his horse. Ole Pancho, he just nodded his head and waggled his ears as they moved along. Jack, like many men who spent long hours alone on the trail had the habit of voicing his thoughts out loud. Rather than talking to himself he talked to his horse. That way he didn’t expect an answer. His old pard Jingle Jones had said “If they start answering you, then you know your in trouble.”
  5. Well I found my old cookie sheet and put them in the oven at 170 F. one layer all laying flat so that both ends are off the sheet. It seems to be working ok. I will use the sun next time with my 38 spl brass.. I’m sure I’ll be back for more help soon. I am looking at YouTube for reloading videos also. Thanks again. CJ
  6. Several ideas I can work with. 1. Bingo, My son up the road had a dehydrator. I think he stopped using it. I’ll have to ask him about that. 2. SD thanks, I just remembered I have a cookie sheet not suitable for food that I can use. 3. Loophole, Mr. Miculek certainly has his method worked out efficiently. I can use one of the ovens. We have two, one over, one under. The under one is used for storage, so I can probably use it. There shouldn’t be much odor involved. Thank you all, Look for future what to do’s as I progress down the road. CJ
  7. Right now I’m working on my 45 ACP brass. I sized and deprimed the cases, ran them in an ultrasonic cleaner and rinsed them really well with warm water. I used OLG’s suggestion and rolled them back and forth hanging in an old towel. The outsides are dry, however, I can see a little water in the bottom of the shells. The question of the day is; What is the best (most efficient) way of drying the inside of the cases? Have at it and thank you! Please note, I am alone here. Not without family, without a mentor to teach me his/her methods of reloading. So you’s guys are my de facto mentors. Any help is greatly appreciated. CJ
  8. As Doc and Jack entered town with the two trussed up rustlers in tow. J. Mark Flint stepped out of the Calamity Kris’s Tailor Shop onto the porch. “Howdy Doc, Jack, whatcha got there?” He hollered. “Couple of rustlers.” Responded Doc. “Caught them moving cattle around on my spread. I’m getting awfully tired of people rearranging my property. First there were those jaspers who ransacked my home, now these hombres moving my stock. Someone is messing with my wife’s and my lives and I intend to see it stopped.” “You need any assistance, you let me know. I’m always up for a little ‘entertainment’. I’m spending nights at Miss Kris’s shop to assure no untoward activities occur here.” Said J. Mark. “I’m glad to know Kris has your help, J. Mark.” Replied Doc. “I’ll stop by on my way out of town to talk.” At the Marshall’s office Doc and Jack unloaded the rustlers and pushed them in the door. “Marshall, Jack and I caught these two rustling cattle on my spread.” Said Doc. “I want them charged and held for trial. Jack and I will testify in court that they and one other man who escaped, were attempting to steal my cattle. They deserve the noose every other rustler receives.” “Wait - Wait.” Hollered one of the men. “We never stole no cattle we just moved them around a little. We never took them off the spread. You got no proof we meant to steal them cattle. We was just fool’n around.” “Unauthorized moving of another man’s stock on his own land is automatically considered rustling.” Replied Marshall Utah Bob. “I’m afraid there isn’t any question about bringing the charge if Doc wants to pursue it.” “I kin prove we wasn’t rustling.” Begged the man. “We was sent to move the stock but not to steal none. We was told to just make tracks that would make the owner nervous.” “Oh, who told you to do this?” Queried UB. Realizing his mistake the man mumbled “Uhm, I can’t say, I’d be worth my life to say.” “Well, it’ll probably be worth your life to keep quiet.” Commented the Marshall. “Generally we hang rustlers pretty quick. Oh, you’ll get a fair trial, and a first class hanging. Without any extenuating circumstances it sounds like a fore gone conclusion to me.” “What’s this exten... what ever you said?” Asked the two men together. “Extenuating circumstances.” Replied the Marshall, winking at Doc and Jack. “Like you were following orders of someone who had the right to have those cattle moved. That is unless Doc here is willing to drop the charges. Though you’d need to give him a real good reason to drop the charges. Maybe the name of who sent you, what you were supposed to do with the cattle and your testimony in court to that effect.” “He’d have that Frezzel guy kill us sure as anything. You need to protect us if we spill the beans.” The men pleaded. “You’ll need to tell us all you know to see if you have enough information to satisfy the prosecutor. Once he okays a deal I’ll drop the charges. If you welch on the deal I can always recharge you and you’ll hang for sure.” Growled Doc. “That includes information on this Frezzel character.” Piped up Jack. “If we get him locked up your chances of survival improve immensely.” “Okay, we’ll talk.” Replied the rustlers. “Just keep us protected.”
  9. ap. Wikipedia - “The most Reliable Source” on the InterWeb thingy General Willian Tecumseh Sherman - Presidential Election of 1884 "I will not accept if nominated and will not serve if elected."
  10. After a quiet night Jack was up before the sun crested the rise. He turned the stock in the barn out to the corral, set out hay and water for them and began to muck out the stalls. Soon the triangle on the back porch of the house began to clang. Jack washed his hands and face in the basin on the porch, scrapped his boots clean and stepped into the kitchen. “That sure smells like Miss Abby’s cooking.” He said. Doc smiled and replied, “Bacon pretty much smells the same no matter who cooks it, as long as it isn’t burned.” After eating and washing up the two men went out to corral and roped their horse of choice for the morning ride. Once the horses were saddled they headed towards the main road and the scrub area where Jack had found the cattle last evening. At the scrub Jack said, “We should circle this area to look for the tracks of those men coming and going. I’d say it’s likely they headed cross country as I didn’t meet anyone coming away from here last night. The cattle weren’t here very long, they were still bunched up from being driven. So whoever moved them had to go another way than towards town or I would have at least heard their horses.” They quickly found the trail and examined the tracks for any distinguishing marks. “See this one shoe has a gauge in it. That’s Frezzel’s horse. I believe it is the rear hoof as it occasionally covers the track of the other hoof. I’m still concerned about him not changing those shoes. It just doesn’t make sense unless he’s got some particular reason not to. To me that says he’s trying to set a trap for whoever follows these tracks.” “You are probably right,” replied Doc “but what are we going to do about it?” “I’ll tell you what. I’ll begin tracking from here. You hang back a ways and off to the side over the crest of this rise. If someone is laying in wait they will be concentrating on the trail and likely not spot you. Once they open the ball you’ll be able to flank them and neutralize their position.” “The strategy is good, but they are my cattle. I should be the one trailing the rustlers.” Replied Doc. “No sir.” Said Jack. “I’m the one after Frezzel, it’s my job. We are about the same build if we just switch hats no one will tells us apart from a distance. Besides if you get hurt Miss Abby will skin me alive.” Switching hats they took up their positions and Jack began to follow the tracks. With his carbine in hand Jack followed the obvious trail at high alert. ‘These men must think everyone is a fool,’ thought Jack. ‘Even a city slicker could follow this trail. I’d better put on a show of working at this or they won’t be watching me carefully enough. I don’t want them to get suspicious and spot Doc covering my back.’ After an hour of slow pains taking tracking Jack spotted a likely ambush site amongst some trees. Stopping, Jack put on a show of removing his hat and wiping his head. Then he stepped down to examine his horses hoof, while casually looking around. Still out of rifle range he led his horse along the tracks towards a small stream. With the horse between himself and the trees he waited patiently, allowing Doc time to circle the site. Confident that Doc had enough time to get in position Jack mounted and began to move towards the trees. His hat brim was down low, but his eyes were able to scan the trees unobserved. Suddenly he spotted a hard straight line pointing out from cover. The line of a rifle barrel. Heeling the horse with those big Texas spurs he let out a ‘Rebel Yell’ and charged the tree line firing his carbine twice. He heard the buzz of bullets passing close and then the crack of the shots. Once he reached the trees Jack dove off his horse, slapping the animal on the rump to send him deeper into the woods. Taking cover behind a big pine he fired at the butt of a tree near where he knew the shooter was hiding. He didn’t know exactly where Doc was and didn’t want to chance hitting him with an errant shot. Jack figured his job was to keep the man or men busy, so Doc could spot their position. Jack noted that there were two men returning fire in response to his shooting. Pushing new shells into his carbine he then began to lay down a covering fire, being careful to pepper tree trunks near the men. Watching through a fork in the tree, Jack spotted Doc as he buffaloed one of the shooters. Doc held up his hand with two fingers showing and the pointed off to his right. Looking again Jack saw a boot sticking out from behind a large rock. This man had not shot at him. ‘What was he waiting for?’ The boot moved back out of sight behind the rock. Jack moved to the side of his tree furthest from the rock and lined up a shot as the edge of the tree the second shooter was using as cover. As the shooter began to try a shot, Jack hit the tree and sprayed him with splinters. Some of them must have stuck as the shooter howled and jerked his shot high. Doc quickly closed the distance and placed his rifle barrel behind the man’s ear. The man dropped his rifle and raised his hands. Doc whacked him along the side of his head sending him to sleep. Then both Doc and Jack charged the large rock circling around to either side, they came face to face. The third man had fled and gotten away. They heard a horse gallop off at the far side of the wood lot. Jack hollered, “You secure those two.” As he raced on foot to see if he could spot the third man. There was no sign of the rider except a faint cloud of dust raised by the fleeing horse. Looking down Jack saw the tracks. There it was the shoe track with the gauge. It had been Frezzel. Now Frezzel had an idea who might be after him as he had surely been able to see Jack’s face from his vantage point. Again he wondered, ‘Why hadn’t Frezzel tried to kill Jack when he had a clear shot?’ Returning to the wood lot Jack helped Doc truss up the two bushwhackers before they came to. “I guess we need to make another trip into town to see the Marshall.” Said Jack. “Would you like me to put on my crazy hillbilly act again, to see what I can get from these two? It worked pretty well on those two who burgled your house.” “That might be entertaining.” Responded Doc. “However, the threat of hanging for rustling is a real thing that we don’t have to let go of even if they talk. Not until they testify in court. Those other two know they are safe from your crazy hillbilly character once they were in jail.” Nodding Jack sighed, “I suppose you are right. Let get these two loaded. By the way, did you notice their horses are wearing the Hammond brand?” “Yes I did. Do you think Hammond will add horse theft to the charges against these two, or admit he sent them to rustle my stock?” Asked Doc. “Charging them with horse theft would make the other men working for him leery of following orders that could get them in trouble. I don’t see him admitting to organizing a rustling operation. Especially since his operation has grown twice as fast as other ranchers in this area. Several smaller ranches have had problems with rustling. Suspicion is already rising as to his practices.”
  11. After sharing a couple of beers with Kit, Jack headed back to the Ward’s ranch hoping for a restful night in a bed. Along the way he spotted some of Doc’s cattle wandering close to the property border. ‘Now why would those steers wander so far from the good pasture to this scrub.’ He wondered. Beginning. To push them back towards the main pasture, Jack noticed several tracks of shod horses. Striking a sulfur match he examined the tracks. Among the them was one he’d seen before. A deep gauge in the shoe left a distinctive impression. ‘Frezzel,’ he thought. It’s a good thing I didn’t jump the gun and leave for home. Thanks to Linn’s council I’m still here and so is Lefty Frezzel. I’ll get my man yet, I HOPE! As Jack was pushing the cattle along Doc rode up from town. “Hello Jack, what are my cattle doing this far from the main pasture?” He asked. Jack replied, “As I was returning from town I spotted them bunched up in that scrub near the turn off. I looked around and found some tracks that indicated they’d been herded there. I don’t rightly know if my approach scared of the rustlers off or if they just moved them that far and left them. It’s strange, not the direction I’d move cattle to go unobserved, if I was rustling them. Who’d be stupid enough to try and rustle cattle right past occupied territory? They’d pass right by Keller’s spread and not likely go unnoticed.” Doc mused, “Perhaps they didn’t mean to go unnoticed. Two possibilities come to mind. Draw Linn out and ambush him, they’ve already tried that once. Or, move them onto his spread and then accuse him of attempting to steal my cattle. Even if he isn’t convicted, locking him up for a while would neutralize his effectiveness. The Hammond crowd have tried to eliminate both Linn and I, two or three times recently. The old man has been careful to remain distant from those attempts to avoid arrest, but he most certainly is the puppeteer pulling the strings.” Jack nodded and said, “I examined those tracks carefully. One set I’ve seen before. They belong to the horse Frezzel rides. That in itself is strange. The mark is so distinctive it can’t be a coincidence. Yet any normal man would have had his horses shoes changed by now. Frezzel is not stupid or careless and as cold as they come. He’d have no love for a horse, it’s just something to ride and he certainly would have realized the shoe was marked. That says he is keeping the shoe on purpose. Maybe trying to draw his pursuers out. He does not know me, we’ve never crossed paths. So he may have heard there’s a Ranger in the area, but not be able to identify me. There’s also Kit Garth, he’s a Ranger from another district. We met this evening to talk, but Kit didn’t tell me why he’s here.” By this time Doc and Jack had the cattle back on the pasture and they let them spread out to graze. “Jack, you have a good nights rest.” Said Doc. “I’m heading to the house to sleep. Abby is spending a couple of nights at Miss Kris’s dress shop to have some women time with her. Tomorrow maybe we can track where those men went after they dropped my cattle in the scrub.” “Okay Boss.” Replied Jack. “I’ll be up at first light to ready the horses. Can you cook as good as Miss Abby?” “Not hardly Jack, but it won’t kill you, at least I haven’t died from my own cooking yet.” Grinned Doc. “Goodnight” “Night Boss.”
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