Assault of the Mountain Man

CHAPTER FIVE

Elco, Colorado

Frank and Travis Slater had served six months in jail for burglary, and would have gone to prison for a year, if Chance Carter hadn’t paid for a good lawyer to plead their case.

“I think they’re basically good boys,” Carter told the judge when he was providing supporting testimony. “They just made a mistake is all, and I would hate to see their whole lives ruined because of it.”

The judge had taken Carter’s testimony to heart and had given lenient sentences to both of them. Now that they were out of jail they were working as hired hands for Carter. Carter’s wife had died ten years ago, and Chance had raised their daughter ever since. Carrie was fifteen years old and just blossoming into womanhood.

One morning she came out to the barn carrying a milk pail. She smiled at Travis, who at nineteen, was the younger of the two brothers. Frank was twenty-two.

“Good morning, Travis.” Carrie took the milking stool down from its hook.

“Pretty soon, you won’t be needin’ to milk that cow,” Travis said.

“What do you mean?”

“Why, the way you are tittyin’ up, you’ll be able to give milk yourself.” Travis laughed at his joke.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say!” Carrie blushed at the comment.

“Sure it is,” Travis said. “You think Frank an’ me don’t see how you come around us all the time, showin’ off them titties of yours?”

“I do no such thing!” Carrie insisted. “And I don’t like the way you are talking to me.”

“Yeah you do. You like it a lot. Otherwise you wouldn’t be showin’ off like you are.”

“I’m not showing off.”

“You aren’t? Then what did you come out here for? Did you come out here just to put a burr under my saddle?” Travis walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “Or did you come out here so I could make you a woman?”

“Make me a woman? What does that mean?” Carrie asked with another laugh. “I’m already a woman.”

“No, you ain’t.” Travis pulled her to him. “You ain’t a woman until you’ve had a man. Like me.” He pulled her to him and forced a kiss on her.

She fought against him. When he pulled his lips away, she shouted, “Pa! Pa!”

“Shut up! You want your pa to come runnin’ out here?” Travis slapped her hard, and blood came from her lips.

“Pa!” she screamed again, but that was as far as she got before Travis, acting spontaneously, picked up the hammer he had been using to adjust the iron wheel rim, and hit her hard. She went down without a sound.

“Get up,” Travis said. “Get up and don’t be screamin’ no more.”

“She ain’t goin’ to be gettin’ up,” Frank said. He had been out in the corral, but was drawn back to the barn by the young girl’s scream.

“Yeah she is. Get up,” Travis said again.

“Travis, take a look at her. Take a good, close look at her.”

Travis looked down at the young girl and saw that her eyes and mouth were open, but she was totally still. There was a very dark bruise on the side of her head where he had hit her with the hammer.

“Oh damn! Oh damn, oh damn, oh damn! Frank, I’ve kilt her! What am I goin’ to do? I didn’t mean to kill her. I was just tryin’ to get her to shut up.”

“Carrie!” a man’s voice shouted. “What is it? What are you calling me for?”

Chance Carter, a man in his early forties, stepped into the barn and saw the body of his daughter lying on the ground. He saw Travis and Frank looking down at her.

“My God! What happened?” Chance asked in agonized shock.

“She—uh, I didn’t mean—uh, I didn’t think I hit her that hard,” Travis said.

“You did this? You did this?” Chance asked.

“I was just funnin’ with her,” Travis said weakly. “Then she started screamin’ and I wanted her to stop.”

“You murderer!” Chance turned and started back toward the house.

“Mr. Carter, listen to me!” Travis called after him. “I didn’t mean to kill her! I just wanted her to stop yelling is all! It was an accident!”

Without any reply, Chance ran into the house.

“What’s he goin’ to do, Frank?”

“I figure he’s goin’ after a gun. And I figure he’s goin’ to come back out and commence shootin’.”

Frank took the hammer from Travis’s hand, then hurried up to the big house. He stood alongside the door, with his back up against the wall, and waited until Chance Carter came back outside.

“You son of a bitch, you killed my daughter,” Carter shouted, starting toward the barn with a double barrel shotgun in his hand.

So intent was Carter on extracting retribution from Travis, he didn’t see Frank step out behind him. Frank brought the hammer down hard, and Chance dropped to the ground.

Frank got down on his knees beside the rancher and hit him again and again with the hammer. He didn’t stop until blood, bone, and brain matter was pouring out of the wound.

“I think you can quit now, Frank,” Travis said.

Frank stood up and looked at the bloody end of the hammer. “Yeah.”

“What do we do now?”

“We get our guns and get out of here,” Frank said.

“How we goin’ to get out of here? The only horses Mr. Carter’s got is team horses. He ain’t got no saddles.”

In the distance they heard the whistle of a train.

“We’ll take the train,” Frank said.

“Like as not, it’s a freight train this time of day,” Travis said.

“All the better,” Frank replied.

Poncha Pass, Colorado

The freight cars bumped and rattled through the night, the thunder echoing back from Poncha Pass. On the 2-4-2 locomotive the steam gushed from the drive cylinder like cannon fire as it labored mightily to negotiate the grade. But five cars back, Frank and Travis Slater, who had hopped onto the freight when they fled the Carter ranch, could hear nothing of the engine.

The car had been empty when the two brothers jumped onto the train, but just before nightfall, two other men climbed into the car.

“You think the brakeman saw us?” one of the two men asked.

“Nah. Anyway, I think it’s Doodle. He’s a good one. He don’t ever throw you off,” the other said.

In the dim light, the two new men saw Frank and Travis sitting in the forward part of the empty car, their backs braced against the front wall so no matter how much the train lurched and jerked, they were able to keep from being tossed about.

“Hello, boys,” one of the newcomers said with a friendly greeting. “Been on the train long, have you?”

“Not too long,” Frank answered.

“My name’s Zeke, my partner here is Mickey. We know most of the riders, but I don’t think we’ve ever run across you two before.”

“No, this is our first time.” Frank pointedly did not give their names.

Zeke chuckled. “Don’t want to tell me your name, huh? Well, no matter. Sometimes when folks is down on their luck, they don’t like to give away their names. That’s fine with Mickey and me.”

“How many times have you hopped a train on this line?” Frank asked.

“I’d say twenty, maybe thirty times, wouldn’t you, Mickey?”

“Thirty times for sure. You might recall, one time we done it two times in the same week.”

“Yeah, I do recall. So this is your first time, is it?” Zeke asked.

“Yes,” Travis answered.

“Well, there’s some things you need to know. If you’ll listen to me, I’ll be learnin’ you some of them things.”

“We’re listenin’,” Frank said.

“The first thing is, you got to know what kind of car to hop, and you got to know how far it’s goin’,” Zeke said. “I mind the time Jimmy Peal ... You remember him, don’t you, Mickey?”

“I remember him well. He was a big man, maybe six feet four inches tall, or so,” Mickey said.

“Yes, that’s the one I’m talkin’ about,” Zeke said. “Well, sir, Jimmy Peal once hopped onto a car and the door got shut on him so’s he couldn’t get out. The car went all the way to New Orleans, it did, and when they opened it up down there, well, they found Jimmy Peal dead. He’d done starved to death.”

“He died of thirst,” Mickey corrected. “As big a man as he was, it would’ve took him a long time to starve to death. But it don’t take hardly no time at all for a man to die if he don’t have no water.”

“We’re sure goin’ slow now,” Travis said. “Why, I could walk faster than this.”

“That’s ’cause we climbin’ up Poncha Pass,” Zeke explained. “But we are near ’bout to the top now. You wait till we get over the top, then you’ll see.”

“I’ll see what?”

“You’ll see us speed up. The train will be goin’ lickity split an’ I wager you’ll be a’ wantin’ to grab ahold of somethin’ so as to be able to hang on.”

The train reached the top of the pass, then started down, gathering speed as the peaks lurched behind them in an increasingly faster rush.

“How fast you think we’re a’ goin’ anyway?” Frank asked.

“Goin’ downhill like this? I’d say thirty-five, forty miles an hour. Maybe even faster,” Zeke said.

“Damn, I ain’t never gone this fast before,” Frank said.

“So, this is the first time you two boys ever jumped a freight, is it?” Mickey asked.

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Travis answered.

“What did you jump it for?”

“What?”

“Well, I mean, you boys don’t exactly have the looks of a rail bum.”

“We jumped it for the same reason as you did,” Frank said. “We needed to get somewhere, and we didn’t have no horses.”

Zeke laughed. “See, now that’s the difference between you two, ’n me ’n Mickey here. You said you need to get somewhere.”

Frank looked confused. “Yeah, so, what’s different? We’re on this train just like you are.”

“No, you ain’t. It ain’ nothin’ like Mickey ’n me,” Zeke said. “That’s the whole point. You said you are needin’ to get somewhere. Me and Mickey, we don’t need to get nowhere, on account of because we are already here.”

“What do you mean, you are already here?” Travis asked. “You are on a train, goin’ somewhere.”

“See, that’s where you don’ understand men like Mickey ’n me. We ain’t goin’ nowhere. We are already here,” Zeke said.

“We’ll ride this train for a while, then we’ll ride another train, and after that, why, we’ll hop on another train and ride it,” Mickey said. “We ain’t goin’ nowhere in particular, which means we are already here.”

“How do you eat?” Frank asked.

“Just like anyone else. With our mouths,” Zeke replied, laughing at his joke.

“No, I mean if you are on the train all the time, how do you get food? You don’t have any money,” Frank said. “What do you do? Beg people for food?”

“Who says we don’t have any money?” Zeke replied. “We may be gentlemen of the rails, but we aren’t beggars.”

“We just got through workin’ for a couple weeks makin’ bricks,” Mickey said. “We got enough money to feed us for a month or so. Then when we run out of money, why, we’ll find us some other place to work.”

“You don’t hardly never see nobody ridin’ the rails that ain’t got some money,” Zeke said. “So don’t go gettin’ on your high horse with us.”

“Well, just how much money do you have?” Frank asked.

“Seein’ as I’m just learnin’ you boys about the life, what with you just startin’ out an’ all, why, I ain’t goin’ take no offense to that question you just asked me. But the truth is, that ain’t a question you ever want to ask anyone. How much money a man has is his own business.”

“Yeah, I see,” Frank said. “Sorry I asked.”

“That’s all right. Like I told you, you two boys is new, and you don’t know no better, so I ain’t takin’ no offense.”

The train leveled out and slowed down. Zeke got up and walked over to stand in the open door of the freight for a moment, then he came back. “Gilman is comin’ up.”

“What’s in Gilman?” Frank asked.

“It’s a new town. It has a store, a stamping mill, a café.”

“Does it have a saloon?” Travis asked.

“I expect it does. I ain’t never been in it though. Most of the time when we want somethin’ to drink, we’ll just buy a bottle. Right, Mickey?”

“Yeah. We don’t go into saloons ’cause we ain’t exactly what you call, social.”

“Will you be gettin’ off here?”

“No, we ain’t got no reason to get off yet.” Zeke came back to the front of the car, then sat down against the wall. Frank got up and walked over to the open door to look outside. The train had slowed considerably.

“You ever jumped off a train while it was movin’?” Frank asked.

“Yes, but you wouldn’t want to do it if it was movin’ any faster ’n this,” Zeke said.

“How do you do it?”

“It’s easy. You just jump far enough out to make certain you don’t fall back under the wheels.”

“And when you jump, you’re goin’ to tumble some,” Mickey added. “So what you want to do is make sure you’re facin’ toward the front. Otherwise you could tumble backward and break your neck.”

“Come here, Travis, have a look,” Frank said.

Travis got up from his place by the front wall and walked to the door.

“How much money you think they got on ’em now?” Frank asked Travis, speaking just loudly enough for Travis to hear him.

“I don’t know. Twenty, thirty dollars maybe.”

“That’s good enough.” Pulling his pistol, Frank held it down by his side and slightly behind him as he walked back to the front of the car.

“So what did you boys decide?” Zeke asked. “You goin’ to jump out of the car?” He and Mickey laughed.

“After,” Frank said.

“After what?”

“After this.” Frank raised the pistol and fired twice at point blank range. He hit Zeke and Mickey in the forehead, killing them instantly. Travis came up behind him.

“Why did you do that? We coulda just held ’em up.”

“They knew who we were,” Frank replied. “This way, they aren’t likely to even be discovered for two or three days, if that. Hell, this car might wind up in San Francisco before anyone discovers them. By then we’ll be so far away there won’t be any way at all anyone can ever put together the fact that we was the ones who done it. You search Mickey. I’ll search Zeke.”

“Damn!” Travis held something up. “I bet there’s over a hunnert dollars here!”

“Yeah!” Frank said with equal excitement. “There’s at least that much here. Who would have thought that?”

“Come on,” Travis said. “We’d better get off now.”

Stepping into the open door of the freight car, the two men leaped clear of the roadbed. The jump caused them to tumble forward, in keeping with Mickey’s instructions. By the time they picked themselves up, the lighted caboose of the train was rocking past them. The two men watched the car grow smaller in the distance until all they could see was the glowing red lamp that was hanging from a hook on the end of the caboose.

“What do we do now?” Travis asked.

“We follow the tracks to town.”

“It’s the middle of the night. There ain’t goin’ to be nothin’ open in the middle of the night.”

“We don’t want anything to be open,” Frank said. “When you’re stealin’ horses, it’s best that ever’one be asleep.”

Travis laughed. “Yeah.”

With only moonlight to guide them, they walked along the track, following the softly gleaming rails for a mile until they reached the town. Gilman was perched on the side of a mountain, the private homes and commercial buildings clinging to the side like sprouting bushes. Taking advantage of what level land there was, two streets formed a V with the point pointing toward the east.

It was about two in the morning, so there was not one soul awake in the town, and the only sound that could be heard was the rustle of the wind through the limbs of the aspen trees. From the far end of town, they heard a dog barking, and Frank and Travis stopped in their tracks.

“I hope that dog is tied up,” Travis said.

“I expect he is.” Frank pointed. “Look over there. Do you see what I see?”

Travis looked in the direction indicated. “All I see is a lean-to.”

“With a couple horses,” Frank replied.

“I don’t see no—” Travis stopped in mid-sentence when he saw something move in the shadows of the lean-to. “Oh, wait, yeah, I see ’em.”

Moving silently through the night, the two brothers reached the lean-to where they found two horses tied to a rail, and two saddles conveniently stored on a shelf to one side. They saddled the horses, then led them out into the open, keeping a close eye on the nearby house. Travis started to mount.

“Not yet,” Frank said. “Let’s walk them all the way out of town first. It’s quieter that way.”

“Yeah,” Travis said. “Yeah, good idea.”