Back'At'Cha 2016

[Blackwater 53393]

I shot the Arkansas black powder match and in one conversation Back at Cha came up. I mentioned that I was really looking forward to it and was going to try duelist Outlaw because my left hand is a pacifist and will have nothing to do with shooting a gun. I was immediately told that I couldn't go because the shoot was already full. I didn't say NAA NA NA NA NAA BUT I WANTED TO.

 

I went to a wedding today and Back at Cha' came up in conversation, (It was a cowboy friend of mine getting married) and I got the most envious look from another cowboy when I said I was all signed up and going!!

 

 

FEELS GOOOOOOOOOOOD!!

 

​Congrats to my big time buddy, Will Reilly, and his new bride, Christy!!!

[T-Bone SASS #36388]

Only 11 months to go.half a range remodeled and build a house. So much to do so little time. We'll keep the light on.

[T-Bone SASS #36388]

Entry #248 will be given away at the Gunfight in Dixie. This is the last entry that is out and the books will close. Maybe then we can get a shooters list.

[Chickasaw Bill SASS #70001]

T-Bone

 

ya got a hurry up time machine ?

 

this waiting to shoot AIN'T no FUN

 

Chickasaw

[Yusta B.]

T-Bone - Pinewood is lookin for a rematch in a poker tournament with Cbeaux.

[T-Bone SASS #36388]

rematch ??It's on for the players.

 

Now for some range news updates.... Free At Last and Marshal Jack are almost finished with stage 5 Cbeaux's Chicken Chateau and Jumbo Rib Shack. Frame work is up and waiting for a new metal roof top. Covered loading and unloading table with all the extras. We should move to stage 6 the Iron Maiden next week if the rain will hold off. Thanks for watching and stay tuned-----news at 5. T-Bone

[Blackwater 53393]

Hey, T-Bone!! I'm with CB on this one!! Let's get the Wayback machine fired up and set it fer the future!!!

[T-Bone SASS #36388]

Lets relive history ,,,,,,hey lets have a Damit and Dooley Gang shoot-out at the Bar 3 Ranch "The Ghost of Laylow Curley" stories have been told about Laylow and the Damit Gang. Tombstone Livery and the DG Gang Wars of 2008 as told by Jailhouse Jim. What a match this could be. Cowboys/girls came from all over the World and Three books have been written on the DG Wars in Tombstone, Az. Grab your guns and let Party like its 1999,circle the wagons and head for Texas. Or,,,,, lets meet up somewhere else and crash the town with singin',dancing, and drinkin'. I got 10 Dooleys ready to ride the river and cross the desert. How a bout it DG ? Yall in ? Or,,, are ya scaritt of a couple Dooley's !!!!! Send reply ifin Ya want to. T-Bone Dooley

[Chickasaw Bill SASS #70001]

 

last time I went to a BAR3 party , a cowboy shoot broke out , in between the partys

 

a GRAND time had by all

 

Chickasaw

 

IS IT TIME YET ?

[Jailhouse Jim, SASS #13104]

Holy smokes, T-Bone has thrown the gauntlet down this time. Now bein's I am the only rider coming east from California to the Bar 3 who rides for the Dammit Gang, I'm gonna have to lay down the Dammit Chip for some help along the way. Maybe I can pickup some riders from Arizona at Winter Range in Feb.

 

The next thing is, I also wear a Dooley armband across from my Dammit armband. You might consider me a DamDooley Dammit! We'll see how that is gonna work out.

 

Course you know T-Bone, us Dammits like shootin' black powder at night just like 'Ole Laylow and the gang did when they got the gang to goin'. Are ya ready to come to the darkside?

[T-Bone SASS #36388]

If I must shoot black for my old pad Lay low I will. Looks like BAC 2016 we will remember those who have fallen but never forgotten.

[Blackwater 53393]

The old Possum Gang might just have somethin' to say about a night black powder shoot!!

 

Copperhead Joe, Whiskey Creek Johnson, and I might have some input........

[Tyrel Cody]

The old Possum Gang might just have somethin' to say about a night black powder shoot!!

 

Copperhead Joe, Whiskey Creek Johnson, and I might have some input........

Night shoot? Black Powder? I'm in! Blackwater reckon I could borrow a 10 gauge and really make some noise?

[Nichols Creek, SASS #77627]

Night shoot, black powder? I'm there!

[Krazy Kajun]

The old Possum Gang might just have somethin' to say about a night black powder shoot!!

 

Copperhead Joe, Whiskey Creek Johnson, and I might have some input........

When you 3 get together I'd expect a lot of "output" no doubt

Hey, a night time BP match....that'd be cool.

 

Kajun

[Jailhouse Jim, SASS #13104]

If I must shoot black for my old pad Lay low I will. Looks like BAC 2016 we will remember those who have fallen but never forgotten.

Now that's bein' a real sport T-Bone. Laylow only shot BP, loved the night shoots, and cared deeply for all the people who came into Dammitville to visit after the shooting was over. I think of him often and continue to wear the pink Dammit sash in his honor to this day. I would be honored to fire off a few rounds from BIG MEDICINE for all who have fallen and who will never be forgotten.

[T-Bone SASS #36388]

It on Jim. Hold out from drinking and the party till after the guns are put away. Night shoot for our pard's. Lay low would be happy to join in, Im gonna talk to my mom and ask her to watch over us.

[Noz]

Hey, me too on the night shoot.

Lets see. Night shoot, Outlaw shoot, main match? I'm gonna have to put another spring under the bed of the truck for all the ammo I'm gonna have to haul down there.

 

Hey Chickasaw. This will give me an excuse to shoot my 1860 conversions with C45S cases in Outlaw. Got to have some use for them.

[Jailhouse Jim, SASS #13104]

It on Jim. Hold out from drinking and the party till after the guns are put away. Night shoot for our pard's. Lay low would be happy to join in, Im gonna talk to my mom and ask her to watch over us.

GOOD DEAL! I'm sure Laylow will be right there with yer mom watching over the whole bunch of us spittin' fire and sparks into the darkness in our pards honor. What's he gonna say? MORE SMOKE DAMMIT!

[Chickasaw Bill SASS #70001]

YEEEE HAAAAAAAAW

 

gotta remember to pack the BIG coffee thermos ,

 

gonna take lots of coffee to keep up with all the action

 

sleep ? ya don't need , no sleep

 

Chickasaw Bill

[Jailhouse Jim, SASS #13104]

Now next Friday night, I will be heading to SMOKIN' IRONS and BRANDIN' the DEVIL'S HERD, the California State Black Powder Shootout in Morgan Hill, Ca. BTDH is the Coyote Valley Cowboys traditional night shoot where I will be trying out my newest night shoot load for BIG MEDICINE, a 10 ga double coach gun. If the old gun doesn't come apart from stuffing too much powder in it, I will haul it all the way to Texas for the Bar 3 BP night shoot to take on those chickens and to light up the Texas sky Dammit style.

[Goody, SASS #26190]

Well, I be's havin one them too, but ain't named it yet. I'll call mine STRONG MEDICINE. Maybe BAD MEDICINE. How about COUGH MEDICINE? Anyhow, I shot it two or three stages when I first got it some 8 or 10 years ago. I'll haul it out and load up some stout stuff that will look like flares a flyin!

[Jailhouse Jim, SASS #13104]

Well, I be's havin one them too, but ain't named it yet. I'll call mine STRONG MEDICINE. Maybe BAD MEDICINE. How about COUGH MEDICINE? Anyhow, I shot it two or three stages when I first got it some 8 or 10 years ago. I'll haul it out and load up some stout stuff that will look like flares a flyin!

Maybe there needs to be a 10 ga shoot off to see if the Dooleys or the Dammits can build more smoke and fire?

[T-Bone SASS #36388]

I don't know were we are gonna fit the night shoot in, but it on for BAC 2016. maybe we can get the Ohio Circus Crew to bring the cannon down and start every stage with a KABOOM !!!!!!

[Ben Scalped]

What, another Dammit and Dooley shoot out? Well I think I survived the first un and everybody told me I really had a good time. Remember something about a place called Crystal Palace, I think, and two wagon loads of Dooley members on a loooooong overnight ride to Tuscon. And sumthin about taking a wagon out to near Boot Hill about 2 in the mornin at pick up a couple of lost and cold Dooley members. But bein the gentleman that I am I won't mention any names. Think I slept for about two days after we returned. So if this is shoot out number two I guess ya better call this old guy all in. Now what in the hell is a dammit?

 

Ben Scalped

[Jailhouse Jim, SASS #13104]

We did have a wail of a good time in Tombstone didn't we. Now, a Dammit, that's a hard one to explain but the easiest thing to say is the Dammit Gang is a black powder shooting family much like the Dooley Gang.

 

The Dammit name was hatched at a shotgun wedding in Norco being led by, among others, the almost famous Laylow Curly, Youngblood, Jittery Jim Jonah, and Filthy Lucre.

 

The feud between Laylow and T-Bone came to a head with two wagon loads of Dooleys heading to Tombstone from Texas and a whole bunch or riders trailing behind Laylow from all parts west of the Mississippi.

 

There was the Crystal Palace birthday party for Rocky and all the stories to go with it. there are photos of some of the activity still floating around to boot.

 

For those who are interested in the first Dammit/Dooley fight, I am going to start posting the first Tombstone story on FB on the Back at Cha page.

[Blackwater 53393]

We did have a wail of a good time in Tombstone didn't we. Now, a Dammit, that's a hard one to explain but the easiest thing to say is the Dammit Gang is a black powder shooting family much like the Dooley Gang.

 

The Dammit name was hatched at a shotgun wedding in Norco being led by, among others, the almost famous Laylow Curly, Youngblood, Jittery Jim Jonah, and Filthy Lucre.

 

The feud between Laylow and T-Bone came to a head with two wagon loads of Dooleys heading to Tombstone from Texas and a whole bunch or riders trailing behind Laylow from all parts west of the Mississippi.

 

There was the Crystal Palace birthday party for Rocky and all the stories to go with it. there are photos of some of the activity still floating around to boot.

 

For those who are interested in the first Dammit/Dooley fight, I am going to start posting the first Tombstone story on FB on the Back at Cha page.

 

 

Post 'em here!! Some of us DON'T do Facebook!!

[Jailhouse Jim, SASS #13104]

 

 

Post 'em here!! Some of us DON'T do Facebook!!

I can try to post the chapters here BUT, in the past, the moderators either moved the story to the saloon or deleted it altogether.

[Jailhouse Jim, SASS #13104]

Ok folks, here is the real story of the feud between Laylow Curly, the Fearful Leader of the Dammit Gang and T-Bone Dooley as I remember it happening as they rode to Tombstone. I will try to post a few chapters of this saga a week until it ends.

Jailhouse Jim

DAMMIT!
Trouble in Tombstone

Volume Three
in a series of short stories
Written by
Jailhouse Jim
Aka Shakyspeare Dammit

TROUBLE IN TOMBSTONE

All across the West, Southwest, North to Canada, and east to Kentucky, gunfighters, sutlers, and just plain ‘ole folks are loading their wagons and getting their horses ready to ride the lonesome trail to Tombstone, Arizona Territory, for the biggest gun battle since the OK Corral. Chatter is lively in every cowhand’s camp with friendly bantering back and forth across the country as supplies are being laid in for the trip through the desert and for the after gunfight parties. There are those who have never seen a Dooley or a Dammit much less seen the two “Families” together in one place in an epic battle of wits, guns, and consumption of alcohol none of which is necessarily done at the same time, together, or at all in some cases.

Sleep will be non-existent for many of the gunfighters with the Double Scotch Hotel doing a land rush of business if even just for a few short minutes. The Blue Palm Tree of Death will be thriving between the infamous Casa Dammit and The Blue Bird of Happiness, most likely being shared by the Dooley’s after the doors to the Crystal Palace are closed with the cowboys and cowgirls are tossed out into the night to finish their party elsewhere. The Blue Palm Tree of Death (BPoD) will provide a safe haven for many a cowpoke to lay his or her head until the morning sun pushes back the darkness, forcing a new day upon the land to be lived to its fullest with vigor and resolve.

Yes folks, the battle between the Dooley’s and the Dammit’s cannot be put off any longer. T-Bone Dooley has forced the hand of Laylow Curly since Big Ed in Tombstone has put the Dammit chip into play. Neither man will step aside for the other due to some dubious sense of male pride or just hardheaded stupidity. What neither man knows is they are dancing to the tune of someone else’s song and both have become pawns in a game of chess really not knowing who they are playing against. None of the players have even a clue that one woman is going to change the course of history to set it back on track to save her families and to rid the territory of the real evil.

The battle will be replayed year after year for where the
“Little Gunfight at the OK Corral” had less than one dozen players, nearly 170 gunfighters will be arriving in the “TOWN TO TOUGH TO DIE” for an epic battle destined to go down in SASS history as one of the greatest since the inception of the game. I am sure the founders of the organization had not a clue that history would be changed when two gangs converge in the MECCA of the gunfighter. Will the world survive the battle? Will the earth tilt on its axis as a result of the events about to happen? Will history be re-written once the gun smoke has cleared? No one really ever knows what is going to happen when the Dammit Gang rides into town. What can be guessed is that if a cowboy rides with the Dammit (or Dooley) Gang, they are going to have the time of their lives and memories that will last a lifetime.

TEXAS TORNADO (a prequel)

English, Texas is located in the northeastern corner of the state near Clarksville, right in the middle of Tornado Alley. Most folks didn’t give much thought to the tornados because they were pretty tame compared to the Badlands (Bar) -3 cowboys tearin’ up the town every Saturday night. The Badlands -3 is a huge sprawling cattle spread with the ramrod swinging a wide loop around Red River County. Come the weekend, the -3 cowboys would ride in wild and reckless taking their liberties with the town, the prostitutes, and the people. When the -3 cowboys were in the mood for a real wild time, they would ride into Clarksville or over into Arkansas for a change of scenery or the doves.

Largely because of the Dooley Gang, East Texas was not a safe haven for anyone living inside the written law, Texas’ version of the Code of the West, or prairie law. Not withstanding the problems created by the Dooley’s, post Civil War in East Texas was not a proud period and still haunted the old timers. In Gainesville alone, vigilantes hung forty-one unionists in a three-day period during October of 1862.

Many of the scars created by the war, Reconstructionists, and the KKK, still exist in east Texas because of those killings. The Dooley’s were all part of the lawlessness and killing keeping the old blood feud a boiling with no one having sand enough to ride after them to hold them accountable for what they done.

East Texas soon became the proud home to one of the worse feuds in history with more lawbreakin’ and killin’ than any other civil disturbance in recent memory. It hadn’t taken long before the Moderators and Regulators were fighting over land swindling, cattle rustling, and other affronts keeping bad blood boiling amongst the citizens.

The Hatfield’s and McCoy’s couldn’t hold a patch to the feud these Texans had a goin’ fer themselves. The feud still hasn’t ended but was slowed down a mite with the arrest of ten men from each warring side. The militia, sent in by then President Sam Houston, finally broke down the feud to a tolerable level but bad blood from that time is still plaguing East Texas.

Enter the Ramrods for Badlands -3, T-Bone and Red Dooley. Everybody in East Texas has heard of or been a victim of
T-Bone Dooley’s bad side. Living up to the reputation of the area, T-Bone grew up hard and fast, commencin’ his “BAD” behavior by the time he was ten years old when he set the mill on fire just down the road from town.

T-Bone kept up his ridin’ into the face of the law and spent many an evenin’ sleepin’ in the drunk cell fer fightin’ over to the saloon, mainly over a dove but sometimes just because a Texan likes a good fisticuffs now and then. On top of the normal carousing, T-Bone and his brothers were suspect in the rustling of cattle off local cattle ranches as well as a few unexplained killings. Seems the Badlands -3 never got rustled off of and had an abundant calf crop every year with most of his cows giving birth to twins, sometimes triplets. T-Bone was also known for his intolerance of squatters and haphazard ridin’ over most anybody who got in his way.

Now ‘Ole T-Bone in his younger years spent many an evening in the “Jungles” of Clarksville and English with the sportin’ ladies. He often rode over into Oklahoma, Louisiana, and Arkansas for a “sample” of the girls ‘cross the State line to keep things interesting. Then along came a little filly callin’ herself Red who threw and hogtied ‘Ole T-Bone ‘for he knew there was a rope in the air. Not too much was known about Red and she didn’t talk much about her upbringing so most of Red’s past had been kept a mystery, even to T-Bone. Red Dooley, for all her appearances, was the subdued, proper, submissive, southern belle wife of a Texas cattle rancher.

Now Red is a right purty little thing with shy eyes and a sparkly personality who takes charge in running a tight household with ‘Ole T-Bone thinkin’ he is the boss of things but he weren’t by any means. Whether T-Bone knew it or not, Red was a pulling the strings from the git go and he was just a dancing a jig to her tune. It wasn’t too hard to pull the wool over T-Bone’s eyes since several of the hands were steadfastly loyal to Red and would do her bidding without a second thought or notion of the consequences if T-Bone found out. There were a lot of things happening that T-Bone didn’t know about and Red figured what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him none. All in all though, things were going along fine for T-Bone and Red until one day in January 1882.

T-Bone was out in the breaks with the wranglers helping to bring in the cattle for the spring drive over to Abilene when a grub line rider came up the lane to the ranch house riding real slow looking over the pasture and the horses held in close to the headquarters. As he rode up to the house, Red had opened the front door and was shooin’ the old hound out of the house. Hearing the horse, she shaded her eyes to look at the rider who tipped his hat to her as soon as he saw her lookin’ his way. Something looked mighty familiar about this man but she couldn’t quite lay a finger on it.

“Lite and set fella,” she said, “come on into the kitchen. There’s coffee on and I think the cook has some biscuits and ham left over from breakfast.”

The rider got down off his horse and headed for the waterin’ trough to wash off at least a layer or two of the East Texas trail dust that was so heavily caked on. He took off his well-worn hat then slapped the dust off his pants and shirt before stepping up on the porch and through a side door into the kitchen. The Chinese cook had set a place for him at the table then poured a mug of coffee and proceeded to set him up with a plate of biscuits, gravy, ham, and fried taters.

“We like to keep a little food on hand for strangers traveling through the country and coffee for the hands as they come in from working the range,” Red said. “T-Bone is like most ranchers who would rather feed a man than have him killing a steer for a meal.”

“Why, thank-you mam, it’s right neighborly of you to help a man out like that,” he replied while slowly eating his food, enjoying ever bite as he chased it with hot, black coffee.

After he finished eating he asked, “Mam, do you mind if I smoke a cigar?”

She replied over her own cup of coffee, “No, go right ahead. Most men folk around here like a good smoke after pert near every meal.”

He cut the tip of his cigar off then struck a match on a spur before lighting it. “Mam,” he said, “I didn’t just happen along out here to this ranch. I was sent here as a favor to Elizabeth.”

Red’s composure slipped considerable as her face went white and her eyes ran cold. The rider, showing no sign he noticed continued, “She lived over in Texarkana and was running one of the houses in the jungle. I got to know her pretty well over the last several months so she asked me to do her a favor since she knew I rode this way sometimes. You see, she was doing real poorly with Military Consumption and didn’t know if she would be able to deliver this to you her own self. I don’t know what’s inside cause it was sealed by her hand before she gave it to me. I respected that since she was a mighty fine lady.” He handed Red a yellowed envelope addressed only “Red”.

“Was?” Red asked.

“Yes mam, she passed on two weeks ago. I seen to it she was buried proper up on the hill with the other town folks and then trailed on up here to deliver that there letter to you. Now that I’ve done everything I can for her, I will head on down the trail and out of your business. One thing I wanted to say though, if you ever need anything, anything at'all, send a wire to Fort Smith addressed to Coonhunter. All you have to put in it is “Ride.” I will know where to go and will get to you as fast as my horse can carry me. I owe Elizabeth for all she done for me and I’ll repay that debt to you if’n you need it.” With that being said, he stood, turned, and walked out the door. He tightened his cinch a bit before swinging into the saddle and headed north back to Arkansas without another word.

Watching the grub line rider crest the last hill, Red finally turned back into the sprawling ranch house. She helped the cook clean up the dishes then headed into the parlor where she picked up the haunting letter, opened it, and began to read its contents. As Red read down the page, tears began to flow uncontrollably, streaming down her face and onto the fragile paper. How could this be? Her past had caught up with her at last. She had so carefully hidden what little she knew about her family and now, THIS!

She would be destroyed if anyone found out what was in this letter and where it would lead to. She had thought all this time her mother and sister were dead but now, out of nowhere, here they are to haunt her, jeopardizing her future plans and very existence.

No one can ever find out about this letter or what it contained, Red thought silently. She finished reading the letter then put it into the fireplace watching it flare up and turn to ashes. Before she threw it in the fire, Red looked around the ranch house and wondered where all this was going to end.

Red,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and trust you have found happiness with your new life on the Badlands -3. I am sorry I have not written in all these years but I feared my current occupation would be of considerable embarrassment to you and your sister.

So many years ago when I was left alone here in the west, I couldn’t find honorable work and could not feed you or your sister so I lent you out for adoption to a family I hoped could provide you with a decent life. I apologize for my failure in not raising you myself.

To the matter at hand, your sister Catherine is living in Tehachapi Valley, California Territory with her husband. She is in possession of the family bible showing the family tree for the last several generations to and including your father’s name and some information about him. You may contact her if you wish to learn more about the early part of your life and your background. You should also know you and Catherine are only half sisters and you can get the specifics from the bible.

I am near death now and wanted to try to re-unite you two girls before I passed. I cannot physically be with you but hope with all my heart you will contact each other and unite what little family there is left so you will have each other. My passing will erase the dark spot from your upbringing and there is no need for anyone other than you girls to know about me unless you choose to share it.

The man bringing you this letter does not know what is written within but is a very honorable man who has protected my honor and dignity on more than one occasion. You can trust him with your life should the need ever occur. He will travel to hell and back as a favor to me if you just put a call out for him. It is really too bad I didn’t meet him years earlier for you girl’s sakes.

By the time you receive this letter I will most likely have passed but I must let you know, my memories and love for you and Catherine are dear to my heart and are forever with me as I get ready to cross over into the next life. Please try to forgive me if you and your sister re-bond to make up the missing years away from each other.

Your Mother,

Elizabeth

[Tyrel Cody]

I can try to post the chapters here BUT, in the past, the moderators either moved the story to the saloon or deleted it altogether.

If that happens, let me know and I have a place to post it fo ALL to see, where it will not be removed.

[T-Bone SASS #36388]

My bad disision or confusion made some great stories in the pást. Ellie has settled me down now and all my new stories are about Ellie,our grandkids,cowboy friends and making more money so I can go shooting. It sure was nice to see my name on three books.

[Jailhouse Jim, SASS #13104]

I have to tell you T-Bone, the Tombstone tale is a good one for sure but guess what, I found another Tombstone saga that happened two years after the first. Once I get done posting this story, I will do that one. Soooooo, not only are you in three books, you are in four and are about to be in a fifth. Oh yes, I have been doing some research and some writing.

 

All of us make decisions when we are younger we may not like to be reminded of but the important thing is learning from the bad ones and making better ones in the future. I'd be willing to bet a lot of folks haven't read about your early days on the frontier so might be surprised when they find out some details about the younger, wilder T-Bone Dooley. :-)

[Noz]

Well, I be's havin one them too, but ain't named it yet. I'll call mine STRONG MEDICINE. Maybe BAD MEDICINE. How about COUGH MEDICINE? Anyhow, I shot it two or three stages when I first got it some 8 or 10 years ago. I'll haul it out and load up some stout stuff that will look like flares a flyin!

Name her "Asafoetida"!

 

That's a really bad smelling medicine. Folks used to wear it on a string around their neck to keep bad disease away.

From Wiki: Acifidity Bag. Asafoetida was approved by the US Pharmacopedia to stave off the Spanish flu epidemic of 1918 that killed millions worldwide. It was placed into pouches called "acifidity bags" that were provided by drug stores to be hung around the neck to try to prevent catching the disease.

[Jailhouse Jim, SASS #13104]

Chapter Two

 

LOOKIN’ WEST

Red was thinking as fast as she could on how to fix the mess she found herself in for good. She could not let this information about her past get out to anyone, not even T-Bone. If she had to kill to keep her secrets, she would without hesitation for she had killed before, in that other life folks didn’t need to know about.

 

The issue with her mother wasn’t Red’s only problem either. There was the issue with Big Ed selling the map to a silver mine she wanted to some no account gambler by the name of Dutch. Dutch had got to thinking it was worthless since Big Ed had sold it so readily so he put the map up during a poker game and lost it to some fella named Adam Cartwright who had taken out of town after the game. Big Ed and Dutch may have thought the mine to be worthless only Red knew the mine was real and had seen the ore taken from it. Big Ed should have sold the map to her but why didn’t he?

 

Was he afraid T-Bone would find out he sold a worthless pit to Red and come hunting him or was it some other reason altogether?

 

On top of everything else, she needed to get the Dammit’s and Laylow Curly out of the way before she could finish the job since Adam Cartwright rode for Laylow. The more she thought about the whole affair, the madder she got. How could this happen to her? Especially now. Well there was only one thing to do so she called for her most trusted riders to get prepared for a secret mission. She would ride with them straight to Tehachapi for it was imperative the job was done right. She sent the Chinese cook out to find Shotgunner, Ringo Fire, Spur Robert’s twin brother, Goatneck Clem, and Cowtown Billy.

 

Shotgunner is a big raw-boned Texan who is T-Bone’s big brother and while loyal to a fault to T-Bone, he will do Red’s bidding without letting on to T-Bone. The only problem with Shotgunner is he was kicked in the head by a mustang filly he was tryin’ to break last spring and is off a mite in the head. There was no tellin’ when he might flip out but was generally a good hand in a fight or on the trail.

 

Ringo Fire is another big Texan who had the reputation of bein’ yella for runnin’ from a fight in Clarksville. Even if Ringo had run once, he had never failed Red in anything she asked of him. Ringo found out his father was a trick rider in a travelin’ show but didn’t really know who his mother was. He had been raised in the jungles by all the “girls” as was so common on that side of the tracks in those years. Perhaps there was a kindred spirit betwixt them makin’ it so he was uncommonly loyal to her.

 

Spur Robert’s twin was a fancy lookin’ fella who looked like he just stepped off a southern plantation but he shoots like lightening and rarely misses his mark. Twin’s only real vice was he had an affliction to the circus. His momma had told him after a circus came to town in ‘67, little Twin was born in ‘68. He still doesn’t know who his daddy is so maybe that’s why he keeps headin’ down there to try to find him. Red had to watch Ringo real close from the time he was young though for he had always been the family thief and is always stealing something from somebody. Sometimes that worked in Red’s favor on the trail ‘cause if they needed something real bad, Ringo was usually able to get it somehow.

 

Goatneck Clem loves to fight anywhere, anytime and is mostly the one who starts a good rowl. Old Goatneck’s fighting ways are why he is the epitome of the Texas cowboy reputation. ‘Ole Cowtown Billy now, he don’t care for the trail too much and likes to stay in town at the saloon most of the time. He fancies himself a ladies man and since Red is mighty purty, he just went along thinkin’ he’s getting a little closer to her that way. Little did Cowtown Billy know, Red was a one-man woman and T-Bone was her man.

 

Red met with the boys in the old line-shack over by the breaks where she laid out her plans to head west for the men. She and two men would ride to Tehachapi where they would meet up with a couple of local Dooley’s to get “Her Property”. The other five would ride for Tombstone where they would deliver a letter from “T-Bone” to Big Ed. Once they delivered the letter, they would trail Adam Cartwright towards the mountains to get the map and the deed to the mine.

 

Red had packhorses loaded and ready for the trail so the men would be ready to start west first thing in the morning. She would tell T-Bone she was going to San Francisco to see some friends and to do some shopping. She would be taking a couple of men as escorts so he wouldn’t worry none and would be back in a few weeks.

 

T-Bone would be tied up with the spring drive and wouldn’t give it another thought for she made these little trips from time to time and his men would take good care of her. His men sometimes came and went when there were gold or silver strikes within riding distance so the missing riders wouldn’t be alarming either as long as there were enough cowboys left at the ranch to get the work done.

 

Early the next morning, the first five of Red’s handpicked men rode out of Texas headed for Tombstone carrying with them the letter to Big Ed Douglas. Red and her escorts left the ranch later at mid-morning heading for Tehachapi, California Territory. There would be several days travel ahead of them and they would be riding hard to get there. The men may have thought this would be an easy trip with a woman along but they were in for a BIG surprise. Red led the little cavalcade out of the ranch at a canter and then to a forced gallop as soon as the horses got their muscles warmed up.

 

Red was small and her horse was a runner so they were covering ground fast. The bigger Texas men had to work hard at keeping up to her for she would lope her horse for a couple of miles then gallop a mile or two and then back to the lope. Fortunately, the men had tough little Texas mustangs that had no look about them but they could live off cactus, sagebrush, need but little water, and most importantly keep up with Red during this forced march to California.

 

Red was covering ground like she was on a mission driven by the devil. Mealtime came and went with her for she was not stopping until it got too dark to see the trail anymore. The first day alone, she covered one hundred and five miles meaning it was an easy day for her. This was going to be a hard ride the men thought with almost fifteen hundred miles in front of them, most of it desert travel. Within two weeks, they would be in Tehachapi where mebe they might could rest a bit and spend some time in a saloon with one of the girls.

 

Following Red anywhere was like roping a tornado and being drug helplessly along behind in the dust cloud with Red riding her horses hard and her men even harder. Only thing was, at the end of the day, her horses were well fed and rubbed down thoroughly before she would tend to her own needs. Her men, well, they were on their own and they better keep up or else they would have to answer to Red.

 

The other five men what were heading to Tombstone were making nearly as good time as Red. Nine days later they were in Tombstone and at Big Ed’s saddle shop where Shotgunner delivered the letter. Big Ed opened it right there on the spot bein’s the writer might want a reply. Ed’s face was trembling with rage as he read the contents of the letter, his hands shaking with fury as he perused the last few lines. Ed finally put the letter down, trying to control his temper, then reached into his pocket and tossed a poker chip onto the table. The Dooley riders were taken back by what they saw for they had not expected anything that bold from Big Ed.

 

The reputation of the Dammit Chip was legendary. It is a poker chip that was rarely seen out west and almost never used unless the situation was dire. Everyone knew it would bring Laylow Curly and his band of night fighters a running to make good on the bet of any Dammit who played it. Now the Dooley’s weren’t scared of a little night fighting by any means but certainly had respect for the abilities of Laylow and the Dammit gang.

 

“You go and tell T-Bone,” Ed started out saying, “he is a spineless excuse for a Texan hiding behind a woman’s petticoats a doin’ Red’s low down business for her. I don’t care if he does swing a wide loop over there in East Texas. You tell him this ain’t Texas and I’m no daisy. You take that chip so he will know the Dammit Gang will back up my play and what I said.”

 

The Dooley riders were obviously at a loss for words and clearly didn’t expect that kind of answer from a crippled up old man. Shotgunner nodded to Ed and said, “We’ll send word to him Ed. You know he’ll be coming out here now cause he isn’t used to being talked back to by no two-bit harness maker.”

 

The men backed through the door and stepped into leather for they still had miles in front of them before they could finish the job Red sent them on. First off, they had to find that no account gambler soes to get some information on Adam Cartwright.

 

At the Golden Eagle Brewery, now known as the Crystal Palace Saloon, the Dooley’s found the gambler called Dutch and “convinced” him to tell them who had won that deed and where the rider had ridden off to. Once they got what they wanted, the men downed several drinks then retired to the jungle for the rest of the night. Tomorrow would be soon enough to ride after Adam.

 

Unseen to the Dooley’s was a red-faced fella by the name of Wily Yankee who was dumping the spittoons and washing them out. Nobody paid much mind to Wily for he was one of the many town loafers too lazy to work cattle and too scared to work in the mines anymore. Wily spent much of his early years in the mines as a powder man. He was considered by most to be one of the best there was but one shot had gone bad and killed his best friend. Well, killing his best friend sent Wily onto the booze train of which he has yet to get off. Seemed like Wily's nerve was gone now too so most of the town thought he's turned coward along with being a drunk.

 

Nowadays, Wily spent most of his time just wanderin’ from saloon to saloon hopin’ fer a free drink but more often than not was just “slapped around” by the miners for bothering them. There would always be someone who would take pity on the man after he was tossed about though and give him a drink to help ease the pain.

 

That free drink was far more important to Wily than a free meal or a bath and a whippin’ was little enough to pay for it but the direction Wily was heading would end up with him bein’ dead if he kept it up much longer. One look at Wily’s face showed clear enough he was getting closer to the grave than he knew without even looking at his wasted, bruised exterior. Far be it that a fella made the mistake of getting close enough to get a good whiff of the used up man who had seen little water in the last several months.

 

More times than not, Wily would be found washin’ out spittoons and moppin’ floors in the cribs for his weekly bottle of hooch or a little something to eat. Wily, when not drunk, was a listening man though and even drunk he would remember conversations with surprising clarity. Once the Dooley’s had retired to the cribs, Wily snatched up the half bottle of Old Overholt they had forgotten and headed off to that spot behind the OK Corral where he would warm himself with the spirits held within the bottle.

 

First things first though, he had to tell Big Ed what the Dooley’s were up to if he didn’t already know. Big Ed Douglas was one of the few folks in town who would give him a good meal for an honest day’s work so Wily liked Ed and his wife. Trouble was coming to Tombstone and Ed should know about it before it got there. Wily had yet to hear of the Dammit’s riding east but news would spread soon enough when folks started riding out of town before the bullets started flying.

 

Early the next morning the Dooley’s rode northwest out of Tombstone. Watching them ride down the ridge out of town, Big Ed scowled at the predicament he was in and for what he had done in involving Laylow and the gang. It couldn’t be helped though, no two-bit Texas gunslinger is going to ride herd on him, at least as long as he is alive. Big Ed, crippled up as he was, hobbled over to the telegraph office and sent a telegram:

 

LAYLOW CURLY

CALIFORNIA TERRITORY

ALL POINTS SOUTHERN REGION

 

TROUBLE BREWIN,’ RANGE WAR. OLD MAN DOOLEY

IS VOWING REVENGE FOR INSULT. GANG EXPECTED

THE FIRST WEEK OF FEBRUARY. RANCH IS EMPTY.

I’M LAYIN’ DOWN MY DG CHIP….

BIG ED DOUGLAS

 

HOMESTEAD

 

TOMBSTONE, AT.

 

Red and her riders hit Tehachapi just before sundown on the twelfth day. She headed straight for the hotel while the men headed fer the saloon to cut some of the dust from their throats. Red changed into an evening gown, admiring herself in the full-length mirror, and checked the derringer strapped to her leg with a special made purple garter. She headed on over to the boarding house for a hot supper, tired of trail food and the less than stimulating conversation of the trail hands, to make some subtle inquiries.

 

Red made clever conversation with the locals who were trying to impress a pretty little filly from Texas, telling her much of the town, the law, and anything else they could think of. Funny how it is when these mountain boys try to impress a new gal in town, ‘specially one with a soft southern belle drawl and who knew how to use all the tools she was born with.

 

It hadn’t taken long before Red learned everything known of her sister, her family, where they lived, how many children they had, and what their standing was in the community. She also learned they were all out of town at the moment so this might be the best chance for her to find the bible and to get out before anyone was the wiser.

 

Much later that evening she walked towards the Sheriff’s Office, stopping at an alley before she got there. She looked as if she was just looking around but unseen to anyone watching, she was murmuring something to someone hidden in the alley. One of her men was there not wanting to show an association with her, at least yet. The man backed out of the alley and to his waiting partner for their ride to Bear Valley. They would follow the wagon trail in the moonlight and directly to the little cabin at the end of the meadow.

 

Slipping up on the cabin quietly, the men looked through the windows to see if there was anyone to home. Their orders were not to disturb anything unless told to by Red. If no one was to home, they were to look for an old bible and to bring it back to her at the hotel un-opened. They knew better than to cross Red cause she was hell on wheels when she was mad and had no tolerance for failure even if the men had a good excuse for not getting what she wanted. They searched the cabin for well over two hours, carefully returning everything to its place. The bible was not there anywhere. Red was going to be real unhappy and they were dreading the trip back to town when they had to tell her they failed.

 

The men trailing Adam were having better luck, at least for now. They picked up Adam’s trail easily in Tombstone and had trailed him to Apache Leap. They caught up to him almost accidental like so watched to see what he was doing rather than to show their hand right away. Seein’ he was looking into that deep canyon east of his camp, Spur thought it might be a good idea to get around ahead of him and just set to watching what he did and where he was a goin’ from there just in case he had found the mine already.

 

It was a good idea only they didn’t know it was going to cost them their lives before the gunsmoke cleared. It was just about nightfall so the Dooley’s settled in for the night and when the sun came up, the men watched Adam as he puzzled out the entrance to the mine. They watched for several hours as Adam worked his way down the cliff and when he disappeared into the wall, they knew he had found the tunnel leading to the mine. Just before sunset, Adam appeared at the mouth of the tunnel with a lit lantern and looked to be getting settled in for the night.

 

Goatneck Clem, was set up in a brushy hole directly across the ravine from where Adam disappeared into the mountain with that big Sharps of his. When he saw Adam appear from the abyss, he thought it was time to finish this deal since he had a no miss shot at him. Laying the big buffalo rifle on top of a set of shooting sticks he used when hunting the shaggy’s, he took careful aim at Adam’s brisket but a screech owl shot past him like a bullet causing him to flinch just as he squeezed the trigger. He missed Adam and hit the lantern instead, shattering it into a million pieces.

 

Adam was alert now and hidden from view as he picked the shards of glass out of his arm. Goatneck taunted the man trying to get him to show his face but Adam knew he was in fer it so was sticking close to the ground since he also figured there would be other bushwhackers closing in on him from all sides.

 

There was a shot from above, really close above, and another shot from below. Memorizing the muzzle flare he saw below, Adam concentrated on that area sighting his Winchester in on the last spot he had seen a muzzle flash. Suddenly, there was another shot from below and his own Winchester bucked spontaneously in his hands. Had he heard a scream a second after he fired?

 

“Spur,” Goatneck whispered. “Spur!” he said a little louder. There was no answer. “Git em’ boys, Spurs gone to roost!” The remaining Dooley’s opened up on the tunnel entrance with a hailstorm of gunfire. This one man isn’t going to kill a Dooley and get away with it.

 

There was no return fire from the tunnel so the men started working their way up to Adam’s position. Cowtown Billy worked his way up to the ledge just before daybreak when the sky had just started turning gray. He saw Adam trapped under a mountain of rocks so aimed a rifle at his head to finish the job. A sound behind Billy made him hesitate and look. There was a man standing there, or was he Indian, no matter, it was too late for the man was on Cowtown in an instant. Billy was feeling suddenly very weak and there was a piercing pain in his side, much like a red-hot poker fresh from the fire, and the feeling of something warm running down his side.

 

His hands could no longer hold the rifle and his arms would not lift away from his sides. Cowtown Billy was in somewhat of a cloudy daze when he saw the Indian step back, wiping blood, his blood from the largest Bowie knife he had ever seen onto a pant leg. Cowtown’s legs start to tremble as the realization burned into his brain that he was dying. Slowly he falls to his knees and then backwards onto the rock pile. Is that more shooting he hears? His wide open eyes stare into the burning rays of the morning sun, not seeing, not feeling the pain any longer, not anything.

 

Down in the creek bottom, Cowtown’s compadres were not faring any better than he had done. They had been working through the brush when suddenly they were come upon by three fierce looking hombres. They looked a lot like Laylow Curly, Jittery Jim Jonah, and Filthy Lurce. That can’t be, Shotgunner thought wildly to himself, they should still be in Chimney Rock getting ready for that other fight.

 

No matter, they would finish this now as rifles and Colts came to bear, muzzles flashing the fiery blossom of death. Filthy is hit but it is only a flesh wound as he begins laughing crazily and fires wildly at the charging men. Shotgunner is down with a bullet in the gut. Goatneck Clem took one in the temple and was dead ‘fore the earth scooped him up. Ringo was hit hard but had vanished. Where did he go? The men closed in on Shotgunner as he was gulping his last breaths on this earth.

 

“Who sent you here?” Laylow barked.

 

Shotgunner was still somewhat alert and could see who his murderer was, “You’ll get yours in Tombstone Laylow!” cursing a few words then breathing no more. At least these men would plant them somewhat proper, Shotgunner thought, mebe not in Texas where they wanted to be but at least where the coyotes can’t get to them.

 

In Tehachapi, Red was fuming over the men not finding that bible like she had planned. How was she going to get it if it couldn’t be found easily? Wait, they have a son coming back to the mountain from school, didn’t they? The townsfolk said they only use that mountain trail so mebe they could snatch him up to put the squeeze on Catherine to give up that bible without anymore fight.

 

Red sent one of the men up to the mountain to wait but unfortunately for him, it wasn’t long before someone rode through, him thinking it was that kid. The hidden Dooley aimed his rifle at the horse’s neck, planning on shooting the horse to knock the rider off then he could simply ride up and rope him so he could take him to Red without a fight. He fired carelessly at the horse and missed, only burning the animal instead of killing him. At least the rider had been thrown so he still accomplished his goal.

 

The rider was down in the brush only the bushwhacker couldn’t see him because of all the dust. The waiting game was about to begin until one of them got tired. At least he could get the horse away and use him for bait since he was within sight and in range.

 

It was nearly sundown when a voice from behind him said, “Hands up coward!” The Dooley bushwhacker spun on his heel to fire but something hit him hard in the chest knocking him backwards.

 

He saw the Colt muzzle flare again as something tugged at his chest only this time he felt a red-hot pain where it had hit him. He was down now and coughing violently as the rider limped up to him. Somehow this rider didn’t look like the boy he was sent for. Hell, he was killed by a woman. He lied when the woman asked him why he was here cause if’n he did meet up again with Red, it would be harder to deal with her than a lie now. He coughed once again then there would be no more breaths for him in this life.

[Waimea]

I'm in for a BP Night Shoot.

 

Black Powder Outlaw Style

 

Outlaws don't know how to shoot any other way.

 

 

Waimea