A bit of a story, if you please

[Major E A Sterner #12916]

BTT

[Cherokee Charlie Regulator #4967]

"Git up here,git!," Charlie yelled out as he cracked the reins across the black's backs. He was headed out alone to meet Flint some where about 20 miles south of Castle Rock. "I shore don't look forward ta going over into Kansas. There's a faction 'uv them redlegs left over from the war what turned outlaw and they are some more bad hombres to run into. I got my shotgun and my '73 stashed under the seat just in case I run into trouble and my Colt on my side. What more could a feller ask for?"

 

"Git up there, blacks, git."

[Flint McCloud 3103L]

After Flint had taken his time questioning Elmo, J. Mark did what J. Mark did best... After disposing of Elmo, it was decided to meet up 20 miles out of town and make a run for the Kansas border...

 

The trio split up and went made their own way to the rondezvous... Once they met up, there was no telling what would or could happen...

 

Flint couldn't shake the idea that two men had said that he killed Crazy Horse... Knowing that he wasn't the killer was scant satisfaction that he could be hung for something that he didn't do... "Well, if not for some damned trumped up thing or another... it's probably just my past catching up with me..." Flint said to no one in particular...

 

 

Vaya con Dios

[J. Mark Flint #31954 LIFE]

I dumped the second wagon a good 30 miles north of Denver, and took the team of Percherons and headed west for the better part of a day before I walked them into a stream to hide the tracks. We stepped out onto rock and moved a good mile and a half before the rock began to peter out. Wrapping their hooves in a cut up blanket we made five more miles, making sure that our trail was completely covered. When I came back to the main road, I carefully removed the blankets and began to slightly alter each horseshoe to remove distinctive marks. Their size alone was a problem, but it was going to have to do. At nightfall of the third day I finally rewrapped the feet, left the road and headed for my place. When the horses were stashed away and the booby traps reengaged, I headed for Goodland on with two of the horses I kept around. Both were small geldings with appearances that were unassuming at best, but they both were good for long rides and quick movements. I figured I was 4 days behind Flint and Charlie. If I rode hard, maybe only three.

[Cherokee Charlie Regulator #4967]

I had reached the meeting place just south of Castle Rock just after sundown on the third day and my old bones were killing me. I had had the feeling for the last five miles or so that someone or something was trailing me or watching me 'cause I kept getting this little cold sensation on the back of my neck. I seem to always get that feeling when Injuns were close by but somehow this wuz different.

 

I shouldn't build a fire but then agin' I don't want what ever is out there to know that I know it's out there. I built a small camp fire just big enough fer coffee and bacon and not enough to give off enough light to see what I wuz doin'. Afer I had my coffee an bacon I made a bed roll like I wuz in it and I eased off 'n crawled up into the wagon and got under the tarp wher I could see through the crack in the boards. I had corraled the blacks about 25 yards away in the brush so that they would be safe from predators.

 

After about an hour of being all cramped up in that danged wagon I got that cold sensation on the back of my neck again and this time I got the smell of a wolf in the air. That's when I heard the blacks start to getting nerveous. I kept my eyes close to the fire so I could see any movement and sure as shootin' a wolf appears only there's something strange about this'un. He's got a collar on. Suddenly he leaps for the bedroll as if he is attaching a deer for food and soon discovers there is no one in the blanket. He turns and just stands there as if looking for someone to tell it what to do. I knew I had to get rid of this thing but I also knew I would give away my position but that's a chance I had to take. I eased up over the edge of the wagon, cocked my '73 and just as I pulled the trigger something hit me upside the head so hard I passed out-------------------------------------------------------.

[Cherokee Charlie Regulator #4967]

Flint,

Tried to send you a message. It said you were not accepting any new messages. It's important. It's about the story.

CC

[Major E A Sterner #12916]

BTT

[Cherokee Charlie Regulator #4967]

Thanks Major------I think we lost them.

[Major E A Sterner #12916]

Well, The Colonel did say a "bit" of a story, He never promised an ending...

[J. Mark Flint #31954 LIFE]

Flint McCloud is up on deck. You guys need some patience?

[J. Mark Flint #31954 LIFE]

Still waiting on Flint, or Charlie to build on his post. If nothing more is posted, I'll be back in a few days to get things rolling

[Flint McCloud 3103L]

Flint took the long way to meet up with Cherokee Charlie... Having rode with him before, he know that CC would be there or that something bad had happened on the way... as for the Colonel... well, plans changed with him more than the weather, but you had to know that if you kept to plan, there was a reason for it and it normally turned out fine... not necessarily the way it was meant to, but so far, all three of them had "kept their hair"...

 

About a day out, the big gunman had been working his way around this issue of someone declaring him the killer of Crazy Horse and he couldn't make it fit or make sense... That was why he wasn't paying attention when he came around a bend in the trail lined by rocks on both sides... Two men (that he could see) stepped out into the trail in front of him... the apparent leader... a big man with nearly green teeth said, "I know who you is..."

 

Blinking off his mental trial in a flash, he looked green teeth in the eye and said... "Well... who is I...???"

 

"Youse that McCloud feller... says so right here..." and the man started to unroll what appeared to be a wanted poster... It was at that time that Flint drew his crossdraw pistol and shot the man in his green teeth... The other man, who had been wearing a self-satisfied smirk up till then, threw his hands up and then down for his guns... big mistake... The big gunman shot him twice and rode his horse over the top of him... there was some wet, thudding sounds for a brief instant and he was off... Sadly, his charge was not without warrant... Behind him he heard the sounds of several other horses hit the trail behind him...

 

"Don't let me down, amigo" he said to his erstwhile mount and kicked him in the ribs with a pair of large-rowelled Mexican spurs... As an afterthought he said outloud, "Charlie, where in the h#ll are you... I could use another crazy person that knows how to shoot right about now..." And almost as if on queue, the rounds started screaming around his head from behind him...

 

 

Vaya con Dios

[J. Mark Flint #31954 LIFE]

Now back in Toostone, I had talked with Billy and given him some instructions to return to Buena Vista and wait to hear from me. Now it was time to see if he had followed them. I stopped in Denver and took the back door into the telegraph office. Once there, I convinced the operator to go get some coffee and to forget he had seen me. Then Operating the key I wired Billy and told him to get to the location I had sent Flint and Charlie to to meet up. I told him a bit more, in a simple code I had showed him and finished the telegram by reminding him to watch his back trail.

 

I had been riding hard and, truth be told, I did not want to be seen in Denver. The horses were tired, but not exhausted, so I slipped back out of town and rode easily until first light started to break. I watered and fed the horses and gave them an hour break while I closed my eyes. I got moving hard and fast for the rendezvous point. It was late afternoon when I heard shots in the near distance. I slipped my rifle free and worked my way into view of the fracas.

[Flint McCloud 3103L]

Flint was not what most people would call a prudent or rational sort... As has been quoted in literature, he quite often took "the road less travelled"... So when it became obvious that there was going to be no way to leave this trail and outrun his predicament, he did what... well... he did what Flint always did... He wheeled his pony around on a dime and pulled out the shotgun from it's boot... He gave one barrel at a time to the first rannies that he saw and just dropped it when it was empty... Two riderless horses ran past him... He pulled his left and right pistols and put the reins between his teeth... at that point, he went to work... Firing each gun in turn, he finally came up on empty chambers... He had killed seven men in the altercation, but one man remained... Looking for his crossdraw pistol and realizing that he had lost it, the big gunman was going for his rifle while at the same time knowing that there was no way in h#ll that he would make it... It was at that time that Flint saw the mans head come apart and the man departed his horse and his earthly shell at roughly the same time... A couple of seconds later, he heard the report... "That there is what a Whitworth rifle sounds like", he said to his mount...

 

Flint pulled up and waited... before long, he heard a brief noise as a hoof hit a stone... In the next instant, J. Mark stood on the trail with the big English rifle across his saddle... "Seems I spend an inordinate amount of time pulling your fat out of the fire" J. Mark said with a wry grin...

 

"Glad you could make it, Colonel" Flint said with a bit of a grimace as he pulled his hand away from his side... blood ran red over his shirt, vest, and hand... he continued, "just wished your timing had been a little better"... and the big gunman have that huge grin he was known for... then slumped out of the saddle to the ground...

 

 

Vaya con Dios

[J. Mark Flint #31954 LIFE]

I took to the ground and went to tend to my old friend and he was woozy, but nonetheless difficult. I backed away, drew my pistol reversed it and gave him some battlefield anesthesia.

 

I peeled his vest back and cut his shirt away, pulling bits and pieces out of the hole. The bullet had gone clean thru and i rolled him and cleaned up the exit wound before washing both with the last of my bourbon.The blood was red, but not foamy and not dark. It was high enough up his guts were out of the way and it was luckily close the the edge of the body. I built a small fire and gathered up two rifles from the dead men. I emptied the rifles and wiped the muzzles clean. I laid them muzzle first into the fire and sat , holding pressure on the dressing made of Flint's shirt, slowing the bleeding to a trickle.

 

Flint started to groan and come around and I handed him a knife sheath. "Put it in your mouth I got to cauterize this to stop the bleeding." He did so sluggishly and I grabber the two rifles out of the fire, muzzles glowing red. Even the tang was too hot to hold. I positioned them and shoved them into both ends of the bullet wound and held them there pressing firmly as Flint clenched his fists, his every muscle and squirmed involuntarily. The smell of burning flesh made my eyes water and I pulled the guns away and tossed them aside.

 

Flint's was still writing about, but the wounds were not bleeding much now and I gave him another dose of anesthesia from Dr. Samuel Colt. He settled down and I went and tended to the horses, all that were within reach, anyway. When I got done, I began the dead bodies and moved them away from the road to a gully. Once all were there , I did my best to collapse the walls over the bodies and moved some stones to cover them. It would not hide them forever, but then again who would be looking?

 

I headed back to camp and Flint was sitting up weakly and he looked at me "You buffalo me again, you better not stick around for me to wake up." I chuckled. "I don't envy you your headache, but if you had kept squirmin' you would have bled to death."

[Cherokee Charlie Regulator #4967]

Where in the hell is Flint and J. Mark Flint when you need them. The last thing I remember is shooting that dang wolf and something hitting me upside the head now I am strung up between two trees with nothing on but my pants and I am about to freeze to death at night.

 

"So are you going to tell us when your friends are going to arrive or do I carve on you a little bit more with this Bowie knife," said Jake Weldon. "Me and ole' Bob Larson here dun heard 'bout Mr. Flint McCloud and that $5000 re-ward fer killin' ole' Crazy Hoss and we knowed you wuz with him."

 

"Let me carve on him awhile," said Bob Larson, "by golly I know how ta make him talk."

 

"One thing is for certain. When and if they show up and they find me all cut up you can bet your asses that the two of you are going to die a slow miserable death. So have your fun while you dare cause the wrath of hell is about to decend upon the two of you. Just mark my word," said Charlie.

 

Charlie thought to himself, "Col. when you and Flint get here please don't kill these two yahoos. I dearly want the pleasure of skinning both of them alive----Indian style. Please don't begrudge me of that,please." Then with the pain of many cuts to his body, Charlie passed out.

[J. Mark Flint #31954 LIFE]

Fortunately, Billy found our location shortly before sundown. Flint was resting, though I can't say comfortably, and I was anxious to find Charlie. We needed to make time and get the hell away from here, and the wagon was now a necessity for Flint. After a cup of coffee Billy was brought up to speed and given the option to move along to a safer place and a saner task. Billy refused and threw in with us. I was glad for the extra hand. Carefully we relocated the camp a half mile further off the trail, moving Flint in a makeshift travois. I back tracked and hid our trail, then I went to search for Charlie.

 

 

It took the better part of the night moving slowly before I found the wagon, but Charlie wasn't there. I began at sunlight to inspect the tracks and found what I had feared, Charlie had run into trouble. Multiple tracks suggested an ambush and Charlie beoing thrown over a horse and hauled away. I climbed back in the saddle and followed the tracks. When they left the road, I ground tied my horse and slipped my Winchester from the scabbard. Following the trail on foot, I began to notice the smell of smoke and bacon frying. I slowed and made as little noise as possible.

 

When I finally saw Charlie tied up and bloody, I thought he must be dead, I drew a bead on the first an and was about to shoot them both when Charlie groaned. I dropped my aim to the man's waist band and fired, The bullet stuck him below the belt line and he dropped screaming. Rushing in before the second man could react, I shoved the rifle hard against his belly. "If you even hesitate to do exactly what I say, I'll cripple and disfigure you so that the only thing you do for the rest of your life is scream in pain."

 

He looked at his partner bleeding and screaming in pain. "Yes Sir." was all he said.

 

I took a step back. "Drop your gunbelt real slow and careful like, then go cut my friend down real gentle like."

[Cherokee Charlie Regulator #4967]

"Col.Flint" Charlie almost whispered in his weakened state, "you sure are a sight for sore eyes. Where is Flint?"

 

"I left him back down the trail a few miles. He's taken some lead in his side but he's gonna be fine. How about you, you old coot. Looks like they carved on you some. You are gonna need some tending to yourself."

 

"You didn't kill both of them yahoos did'ja?"

 

"No, I shot one in the guts so he won't last long," said the Col.

 

"Good, as soon as I am able me and these two gents have a date and I aim to be the one doin' the cuttin' this time," said Charlie.

 

"Charlie, I am going to tie this one up until I get back the other one won't give you any trouble. I need to go get Flint and Billy. Will you be OK here with them. I should be back here by sundown. I will leave you two canteens full of water and some jerky. I would not risk a fire. There are too many outlaws out and about and too many Mexican bandits so stay alert."

 

About that time Charlie pulled his skinning knife out and said,"I just might have myself a skinning party while you're gone."

[J. Mark Flint #31954 LIFE]

The blood curdling screams broke the night air and I heard them for miles. When I arrived at camp Flint was much improved. "You find Charlie?" he asked.

 

I nodded :Yep, he' was a little tied up and is at a party for a bit longer, we're invited to join him. If your up to traveling, we might make it back before the entertainment is over."

 

With that Billy helped Flint saddle his horse while I stretched my legs before spending a few more hours in the saddle.

[Cherokee Charlie Regulator #4967]

"Col.Flint will be real interested to hear what you two buzzards have to tell him when he gets back about who sent you after Flint. That is if you can stand the pain and live long enough to tell him. I warned both you, Jake, and you Bob, that if I got free that I would skin both of you alive Indian style. So, that's what I am gonna do until the Col. and Flint gets back here," said Charlie as he peeled a couple of inches of skin from each of his tormentor's chests.

 

While Charlie was somewhat unconsious he overheard a conversation the two were having about some high up military officer who had a grudge against Flint and since the military was involved in the killing of Crazy Horse he was going to lay the blame on Flint.

No denying that Flint was there at the Red Cloud Agency when Chief Crazy Horse was captured and brought in because he had been a scout for the Army in years past and he had passage to all military posts. He had spoken to Crazy Horse just minutes before he tried to escape but it is still a mystery at to whether Little Big Man or who killed him but we know that Flint didn't do it.

 

"Before I am through with you two you will tell us who that officer is. I gaurantee it."

[J. Mark Flint #31954 LIFE]

Flint looked at me as he rode, clearly in pain, but doing everything he could to not show it.

 

"Are we there yet?" Billy asked, breaking the tension a bit.

 

"If we were there, we'd be dismounting, tending to our horses and making a pot of coffee. Do you smell coffee?" I said with a grin.

 

Billy shook his head "Nope . . ." before he was interrupted by Flint "You know, I do smell coffee."

[Cherokee Charlie Regulator #4967]

Charlie had posted himself up on a rock ledge overlooking the only possible trail into camp. He had had that cold feeling on his neck the same as he had the night these two yahoos attacked him and he just wasn't taking any chances. He had some fun with his captives and had left the coffee pot near the fire and it sure was smelling good. Dang anybody could smell that for miles. Suddenly he spotted movement coming down the narrow trail. "Hold it right there and identify yourself before I shoot all three of you out of them saddles," yelled Charlie. "Who the hell are you and what is you business coming in here on me like this?"

 

"Charlie, It's me J. Mark Flint, Flint McCloud and a friend named Billy," shouted the Col.

 

"Well, why didn't ya say so to start with, come on in the coffee pot's on. Got some real important information for you."

[Flint McCloud 3103L]

"Charlie... I ain't never turned down a cup o' coffee a day in my life... You wouldn't have any 'fortifier' to mix in with it, would you...???" asked the big gunman...

 

"Now that you mention it... these idjits here had some double rectified busthead... just might take the chill off" Charlie said with a chuckle... then he got a good look at Flint... "What the h#ll happened to you...??? And what do the other folks look like...???"

 

"The others are dead, Charlie... I got ambushed while I wasn't paying attention... I'm lucky this is all that I got out of it... Luckily, the Colonel came by and cleaned up the last of the mess" Flint said with as much of a grin as he could muster...

 

"Well, step down off the hoss and let's see if we can't find something for you to eat..." Charlie replied...

 

"I could eat, I expect" Flint said... his grin widening...

 

J. Mark didn't miss a beat... "When COULDN'T you eat...???"

 

 

Vaya con Dios

[Grapeshot 8553]

interesting! Nice to see ya'll.

 

Grapeshot.

[Grapeshot 8553]

You could see the vultures circling overhead for miles away. The bearded man in Buckskins rode slowly in their direction keeping his eyes moving from point to point searching for any signs of an impending ambush. His two Indian companions were also nervously scanning the landscape for things out of place.

 

Finally, their searching bore fruit. Telltale signs of coyotes digging amongst a recently laid pile of rubble.

 

Getting off his horse the bucskined man began pulling away some of the rocks. He knew what he'd find, the stench of decomposed flesh was stronger here.

 

With help from the two Indians they soon had the bodies laid out. Eight in all, with one that had his head removed by a large caliber rifle by the look of the damage that was done to it. Going through the pockets of the dead men was not the most pleasent of jobs, but he was used to this kind of work. He had to do more it often than he cared to remember, and with people he knew and had fought with. Their efforts were rewarded when the blood soaked hand bill was found on one of the corpses.

 

Opening the hand bill carefully so not to tear it, he was finally able to read the name of man wanted for the murder of Crazy Horse. Flint McCloud.

 

Looking up from the wanted poster he pointed toward the bodies with his chin and said to his companions, "Bounty Hunters! If it was Flint that they tried to dry gulch here they should have had at least 15 men to get the job done. They never stood a chance. Alright, lets rebury them so they don't stink up the country side and deep so the coyotes don't dig them up"

 

Each pulled a small spade from their bedrolls, stripped their blouses and began their gruesome task.

 

As the work progressed one of the Indians, a scout named Joshua asked, "What do we do after we bury them?"

 

"Well," The Buckskined man replied, "We go report to the Colonel about what we found and deliver their effects to the Marshal and see what happens." Standing straight he looked in the direction of the fort as he wiped the sweat from his brow and thought "If Flint McCloud is involved in this, ten to one J. Mark Flint is up to his rebel eyebrows in it as well. Grapeshot is not going to be happy about any of this"

[Cherokee Charlie Regulator #4967]

Billy helped Flint down from his horse and took care of all the animals while Charlie poured the three of them a cup of coffee each. "Who is this Billy feller, Colonel? Is he a man to be trusted? Why did he look at me so funny when he came into camp? I've had this cold chill on the back of my neck for two days now and it just won't go away," said Charlie

 

"Colonel, when you get settled in one or both of these hombre's have something mighty important to tell you about why these bounty hunters are looking for Flint. You just might have to take a little more skin off'n them than I have or better still just shoot one of 'em and I gaurantee the other one will start to talk like a canary."

 

"Flint, I've made a poultice for your wound. When you finish yer coffee undo yer shirt and let me have a go at it."

[Grapeshot 8553]

They rode toward the fort at an easy canter. His mind was going over all the information that he had learned from the effects of the dead men and he mapped out how he was going to present it to the Colonel. As the neared the gates, the guards sounded out with "Scouts returning" and the gates swung open allowing the three horsmen to enter the post.

 

Dismounting he handed over the reins to his Indian tracker and said, "Bring the horses to the stables and get them settled, cooled down, fed, and stowe the tack. I've got to see the 'Old Man'."

 

With a grunt of aknowledgement the two Indian Scouts headed for the stables to care for their mounts. The bearded man in buckskins walked slowly toward Post HQ.

 

As he entered the door, he spotted the Regimental Clerk and asked "He in?" getting an affirmative he entered the Colonel's office.

 

The Colonel looked up from the report he had been reading and looked directly at the Chief Scout. Cold Blue eyes bored through the man, the scar that ran down the right side of his face, a lighter shade of flesh on dark weathered skin, began to turn red. After a few seconds of silence all the colonel said was "Well?"

 

"Found eight dead men crudely buried 10 miles this side of Denver. All had been shot, various weapons, but one suffered a headshot from a heavy caliber rifle." The scout replied.

 

Another uneasy silence, then the colonel snorted, "And?"

 

"Well, there ain't any other way to put this, you aren't going to like it, but here it is. All eight were bounty hunters. I found a wanted poster on one of them that has a sizeable reward out for Flint McCloud for the murder of Crazy Horse. Considering the body count and who their intended victim was, I also concluded where there is one Flint, the other is not far away.

 

Elbows on the desk and his chin resting against his hands the colonel took the scout's report in and waited a few seconds before saying. "They had a wanted poster on McCloud for Crazy Horses Murder? That's preposturous! We both know Flint. He'll kill you in a second if he has a reason, but Crazy Horse was stabbed in the guts, and some poor slob was court martialed for it. Flint may be a lot of things, but a coward he's not. If he killed Crazy Horse he would have done it looking him in the eye so the last thing Crazy Horse saw was the man that killed him, and, he would not have let someone else take the credit for killing him.

 

"No, there something dirty about this. I want you to bring that poster and the rest of the things you recovered and bring them to the Marshal and pick his brains and find out what in the sam hill is going on. Find out who or how Flint got his name on some trumped up charge about a murder that happened 12 Months ago. And make sure all that information gets back to our leagle eagle, Capt. Palmer, so he can get ready to mount a defense if these idiots ever field enough men to bring in Flint alive for trial. Oh, before you leave for Town, send Capt. Palmer to me, I need him to draft an inquirey to Camp Robinson and get their side of this story as to who stuck a bayonet into him as well."

 

The Scout nodded his head and said, "Yes, Sir." and departed the office.

 

Several minutes later a very prim and propper Captain strode in and reported to the Colonel. Returning the officer's salute the Colonel said, "Take a seat, Palmer. I need you to do some sleuthing. I have a situation that requires a lot of diging and I need someone who doesn't take 'NO' for an answer."

 

"What do you have in mind, Sir?" Palmer replied.

 

The Colonel looked at Palmer grimmly. "I need you to do a discreet but throrough investigation on the death of one Chief Crazy Horse, on Five September 1877, at Fort Robinson, Nebraska Territory. I need you to interview all participants in that fiasco and find me the truth. Do not let any of those brass hats deter you. Take two men with you and be on the next train east no later than tommorow noon. Your orders will be ready by 0900 tommorw morning and you and your men are authorized to be armed and you can draw advance pay from the Paymaster.

 

"Any Questions?"

 

"The colonel is aware that this is highly unusual?" Cpt Palmer asked.

 

"Unusual or not, you have your orders. There is something funy going on about this so sit back and listen to what I know so far..." Then the Colonel began relating the Scouts story.

[J. Mark Flint #31954 LIFE]

"Welcome to hell, gentlemen, try to enjoy your stay, though all to brief it might seem."

 

I said as I took a go at getting more information from these prisoners.

 

"Oh Mister please, just shoot us and get it over with! Don't cut us no more!" they screamed out as I walked close with my bowie in my hand.

 

I looked at Charlie "I was always inclined to honor a man's last request." With that I sheathed the bowie and drew my left hand colt and fired a single shot through the nether regions of the fellow I was closest too. His screaming may have woke the dead. The other man, well he heard that and he began begging us to hear his tales. So we listened as my colt kept him on track.

[Cherokee Charlie Regulator #4967]

"Colonel, this here is Bob Larsen and by the way it sounds he has a lot ta tell you and Flint about what happened to Crazy Horse and who hired them," said Charlie.

 

"You SOB you shot Jake in cold blood. What are you gonna do wif me adder I tell you my story. You gonna kill me 'er you gonna let me go?"

 

J. Mark Flint very cooly looked in Bob Larsen's eyes and said, "You are one lucky SOB to be alive. Cherokee Charlie must be going soft in his old age or you would be just raw meat hanging from a tree and the varmints would be fighting over your guts right about now. Whether I shoot you like I did Jake is up to you. What you have told us up to now we already know so shooting you won't be a loss to any of us."

 

The Colonel slowly cocked his Colt------------------

[J. Mark Flint #31954 LIFE]

"Jake is still breathing, do him a kindness and tell us what you know and we might see that his pain stops, of course, I could cut out his tongue and burn out his eyes"

[Grapeshot 8553]

btt

[J. Mark Flint #31954 LIFE]

"Mr. Larsen, I want answers. I don't mind shooting your friend to pieces and then doing the same to you, but I would rather not inflict pain unnecessarily. So I am going to describe what is going to happen to you if you don't tell me what you know."

 

Larsen struggled and spit in my general direction. "I ain't tellin' you squat."

 

I stepped back and pulled out my bowie. I looked over to Jake, who wasn't doing very well and I sliced off his right eyelid.

 

"Mr. Larsen, I won't kill you, in fact, I might even make a pet out of you . . . after I remove each of your limbs, your eyes and your tongue. And don't think you will get lucky enough to die, cause I had a little medical training and I did a few amputations in the war. The trick is not to do em all at the same time. Imagine bouncing around in a wagon, feeling nothing but pain and fear for the next few years. . . or you could tell me what you know and die an intact and old man."

 

I walked over and opened my saddlebags and removed a small tool bag and unrolled it, withdrawing a scalpel and a bone saw. "Charlie, put a tourniquet on Mr. Larsen's right leg, just above the knee, We'll take it slow."

[Flint McCloud 3103L]

There was an erratic thrash behind the group which had J. Mark and Charlie aiming their hardware at the source of the disturbance... Shortly, Flint stumbled into the area both wild-eyed and terrifying... his shirt removed to the waist where the Colonel had worked on him... In his right fist was a nickle plated Colt and without batting an eye he shot Larsen in the right leg... "Tourniquet that, Charlie... start talkin' or I empty this in places you don't want" the big gunman said... All Larsen saw was doom... no sanity sat behind those eyes at that moment... Larsen started talking and Flint said, "Get all this down, amigos... I can't even understand him" and the Colt slipped from his fingers and he sat ungracefully on the ground...

 

J. Mark looked over at him and said... "Thanks for stealing all my fun" and then, "Charlie, will you get him to stop bleeding again...???"

 

 

Vaya con Dios

[Cherokee Charlie Regulator #4967]

"YOUR FUN? Let's not forget who these two strung up between two trees and carved on for three days. No, Colonel, when ole' Bob here comes to and starts talkin' agin' and finishes tellin' you what you and Flint wants to know then that's when I start havin' fun with these two again. They haven't felt pain yet. Just you wait," said Charlie.

 

"I'll have this blood stopped here in just a minute. Flint scared him so bad and the bullet caused his so much pain he flipped out. Here you go. He's all yours."

[Grapeshot 8553]

Meanwhile, back in Nebraska:........

 

It had taken a couple of days on the train to get to Fort Robinson. Capt Palmer and his two assistants reporterd in to the HQ and secured quarters for themselves. Then Capt Palmer sent his men out to gather information while he headed to the office of the Judge Advocate General.

 

"I'd like to see Major Wilenkowski." Palmer said to the enlisted clerk as he walked into the office. The Pvt looked up, rose and said, "Is he expecting you, Sir?" "Yes, he is." Palmer replied.

 

The clerk then walked briskly to the closed wooden door with the J.A.G. insignia professionally painted on it. The Private knocked on the door and opened it when he heard the Major accknowledge him and announced to the occupant that Capt Palmer was there to see him.

 

Capt Palmer entered the office and saluted, stating, "Good afternoon, Sir. Captain Phinias Palmer reporting." After returning the salute, Major Wilenkowski said, "Welcome to Fort Robinson, Capt Palmer. Have a seat. I got your telegraph, but I am a bit confused as to why you wish to look into the death of Crazy Horse. I trust you will enlighten me."

 

Capt Palmer didn't flinch, he pulled the wanted poster that Fort Phalen's scout had retrieved from a dead bounty hunter and handed it to the Major and said. "My Commanding Officer does not believe that this man is the culpret of this crime and has sent me to investigate the facts and circumstances of the incident as well as to interview all the participants involved in the incident. Furthermore he has empowered myself and my staff with the authority of the Provost Martial while we are here. I also have the cooperation of this post's commander to get to the bottom of this."

 

The Major turned white then red in the face as he listened to Palmer's speach. "You're saying," he said with barely controlled anger,"that I did not do my job in regards to this matter?"

 

"On the contrary, Sir." Palmer replied calmly. "We have reason to believe that there is a conspiracy to shift the blame from this Pvt William Gentles, now deceased. You were not yet assigned to this posting until three months ago. We further believe that the evidence was doctored to give the appearence of the Army's complicity in Crazy Horses death. Not knowing the participants of this incident and given only the 'recorded facts', you had no reason to believe that there had been any reason for perjury on the part of those involved.

 

"The Commanders of the Nebraska and Colorado Territories do not want a revival of hostilities with the Souix should this mess gets out of hand. I was given carte blanche authority by General Terry to get to the root of this situation. I am not here to question your integrity."

 

The Major still held Palmer in a withering glare. He did not like the idea of a special investigator sniffing around his domain, but began to see the need for it. The captain had been on the money when he had said that he had just taken the office of the J.A.G. here at Ft. Robinson. Maybe this investigation would give him some evidence to rid himself of some of his more unsavory subordinates. Leaning back in his chair he picked up the wanted poster and offered it back to Capt Palmer, saying, "You will have my cooperation, Captain, but you are to report all findings to me as you uncover them. If I have a mole in my garden, I want it flushed out as much as I want to see justice done."

 

Rising from his chair, Capt Palmer took the wanted poster and said, "Yes Sir! We will inform you of anything we find." He then saluted and departed the building. As he walked away toward his quarters he thought, "Yes sir, you'll be informed, right after I send that information to my C.O. Now it's time to find my men."