Bucking the Odds Read online

  The next thing he had to do was enforce that law, so he gave Jeffery Silver the job of stopping everyone as they came into town, his job was not to take their guns, it was just telling them they had to check their guns at the sheriff’s office. Jeffery was young, but he had a level head, and he was eager to show what he could do.

  Lance had met him when he came off one of the river boats and he was impressed by his manners and respect for the law. He was not a full time deputy, but was always ready to help when Lance needed him. His main job was working for the blacksmith, where he was learning the trade, and that work had built him into a tall, muscular young man who people in the town respected.

  Lance knew that very few of the people coming into town with weapons would stop and leave them at the office, so later that evening he and Jeffery went to the Medicine House, the biggest saloon in town, and with the double barreled shotgun he carried he fired a shot into the floor.

  Everyone stopped what they were doing and all conversation stopped.

  "You all got the word from Jeffery today about leaving your guns at my office, and since none of you came, I am here to collect them."

  He shifted the shotgun to his left hand leaving his right hand clear for a draw if necessary. Nobody said a word, until one big mean looking miner stepped forward. He had a pistol stuck in his belt and he moved toward Lance.

  "Nobody is gonna take my gun from me!"

  He didn't wait for an answer or reaction from Lance, he just drew his gun, but it was only part way up when the bullet struck him knocking him backward toward the bar. When he hit the floor he was still moving, so Lance kicked the gun away from his hand.

  "Ok, I want everyone who has a gun to put it on the bar and then step back."

  They were still staring into the gun in Lance's hand, and now they realized he was willing to use it. Slowly, one by one, they walked to the bar and placed their pistols on it and Jeffery collected them and put them in a large flour sack.

  "When you finish your night's fun here you can come by my office and collect your hardware, and if you bring them with you the next time you come into town, I expect to see you drop by my office first... is that clear!"

  A few nodded their heads and some mumbled their understanding.

  "Now some of you pick this big galoot up and carry him to the doctor."

  He and Jeffery stopped by the office and dropped of the sack of guns and headed for the next saloon. Word had already spread to the other two saloons in town and although they were not as big, the men were waiting for them.

  This time Jeffery came in the back door as Lance walked through the front. Lance was still carrying the shotgun and there is nothing more intimidating that looking into the barrel of a shotgun. The men were all standing facing Lance and waiting for someone to get enough nerve to brace the sheriff, but that didn't happen so Jeffery spoke behind them.

  "You know what we are here for, so put your guns on the bar one at a time, and be careful cause we ain't tired of shooting people yet."

  He cocked his gun to help the challenge set in, and reluctantly they began placing their guns on the bar. The other last saloon fell into line easier, and then they went back to the office to wait for the men to come and collect their guns on the way out of town.

  As each man, or group of men, came to retrieve their guns, he gave them all the same lecture which ended up with a stern warning that things would not go so easy for anyone carrying a gun after this night. It would lead to their arrest and some time in jail.

  It took a few Saturday nights and a quite a few arrests until they got the message and finally the usual Saturday night shooting stopped. However this bold move did not stop all the trouble. The miners still didn't like the ranchers and the ranchers didn't like anybody, so the arguments that had usually ended up in gun play now continued as fist fights.

  It was harder to control a fist fight because it usually ended in an all-out brawl, and Lance took a few lumps before he imposed another unpopular law. The Mayor and the town council had seen how the 'no gun law' had quieted the town, so he had no trouble convincing them to pass another law.

  This time he wanted to segregate the groups, so with the help of the town council he convinced the three saloon owners to reluctantly join in and test the new program. The largest saloon was only to serve the ranchers and cowboys while the other two saloons served the miners and farmers respectively. The locals and the riverboat workers would be free to frequent whichever they chose.

  Again it took a few weeks to get them used to it, and although it didn't stop all the fights it did stop the brawls that usually resulted in breaking up the places. There was one big ranch hand who continually bullied his way into fights and it was him that Lance set out to stop.

  It was a Saturday night and all was fairly quiet when the fight started, Lance arrived and sure enough it was the man known as Smitty. He was the blacksmith at the ranch, and was built like the typical blacksmith, lots of muscle from hefting a heavy hammer. He was just finishing mopping up the floor with one of the other hands when Lance came in. He fired his pistol into the floor to get their attention, and it worked.

  "That enough! Step back and let that man up!"

  The big man turned on him and started to advance, but Lance cocked his pistol and he stopped in his tracks.

  "What's the matter, are you afraid to meet me without that gun?"

  Lance kept the gun leveled at his belly and an idea came to him.

  "I won't fight you tonight because you are going to the jail for the night and then you won’t be coming into town for thirty days...but I'll fight you here in town at the end of your thirty day suspension. Now move off carefully toward the jail and don't make me have to shoot you!"

  Everyone heard the challenge and soon it was the talk of the town for the next three weeks. Lance and Jeffery built a ring out behind the saloon and they sent word to Smitty about the time and place.

  When the day finally arrived the town was full, nobody wanted to miss this fight. Lance had the feeling that most wanted see him get clobbered, and the bets being made at all three saloons were five to one against him. Dobie and Don both made bets on Lance, but when they saw Smitty they cringed. Even big Ian McDonald had made the trip to town and he hardly ever left his claim.

  They entered the ring at opposite ends and when they came up to hear the instructions from Jeffery, who was to be the referee, Smitty just swung a haymaker that struck Lance in the side of the head.

  He hit the ground on his back and shook his head to try and get his eyes focused. He didn't go out but he came close enough that he had to struggle to get his head clear. He saw Jeffery step in and try and stop Smitty from coming at him while he was down. He also saw the punch that dropped Jeffery to the ground.

  Smitty was now closing on him and he knew he had to move. He rolled to his left as the big feet landed on the spot where he had just been. Now he struggled to his feet as Smitty closed on him again. He knew by the first blow that he would not be able to survive another like that now.

  He moved backward, and as the big man closed in he let another right haymaker go. This time Lance ducked under it and slammed a right into the oncoming belly. It took his breath for a minute, but he was closing again fast. It was enough time for Lance to get his bearings and start putting some of the things he learned at the Boston Men's Club to work.

  He danced lightly on his feet and as Smitty closed he ducked another blow and drove a hard right into his face. This time it was Smitty who staggered and went down on one knee with blood gushing out of his nose. When he wiped his face with the back of his hand and he saw the blood he went crazy.

  He lunged wildly at Lance, who again was able to spin out of the way, while landing a hard right into the big man's kidney. He knew this was not going to be the fight that he had planned with three minute rounds and a minute to rest between. With the look on Smitty's face he also knew he had to end this as fast as he could because sooner or later this man wo
uld either land another big blow or get his hand on him and get him in a death grip.

  As this was going through his mind the big man lunged again. This time Lance didn't back up but landed a terrific blow directly on his chest bone and he felt the hot breath as it came out of his gaping mouth. The punch stood him up, and as he was gasping for breath Lance closed in with a series of blows the landed him on his back, unable to get up.

  The fight was supposed to last until one of them could not get up to the scratch line, and it was obvious that Smitty would be that one as he lay in a heap, not unconscious but unable to get up. For the first time Lance was aware of the crowd as he headed for the ropes and his corner.

  He waited a full five minutes while Smitty lay gasping on the ground still unable to get up, and finally Jeffery declared him the winner. It was not a financially popular win but it was typical for people to pull for the underdog. And the underdog he was, Smitty towered a good six inches over his six feet and outweighed him by at least fifty pounds.

  Several of his friends managed to get Smitty on his feet and into the saloon, while Lance went back to his office. Smitty had landed only one good blow, but that blow shook him to his heels. Unknown to him at this moment he had created a new admiration from the townspeople as well as the ranchers, miners and farmers. It turns out that nobody really likes a bully.

  It became easier to run the town after the fight, and now when a fight broke out he was able to break it up and cool the participants off in jail for the night. He still banned them from town for a month and the second offence resulted in a three month ban with the third resulting in a permanent ban.

  Like the 'no gun law' it took a while for them to get the message that the sheriff and the town meant business, but eventually they began to gain a new respect for the town, and especially for Lance who was fair and impartial to all.

  Chapter 3

  This was the quiet town that Dobie and Don were riding into for a visit. They were working hard at the mine and got to see Lance often on their ore deliveries, but that was just to say hello in passing. This trip was to do some serious visiting.

  As they saw a rider ahead of them turn off and ride behind the buildings lining the main street Dobie thought it was strange. They were too far behind to recognize him, but they knew it was suspicious, so they followed.

  The town of Medicine Bow had only one road coming in and it ran along the main street and ended at the river. Behind the buildings on one side of the road there were other houses and buildings, but the side this man rode behind was not built up, so when the boys saw the man stop and take a gun from his saddle they knew that it was trouble.

  Dobie turned back to Don who was trailing behind.

  "You ride around and warn Lance that there may be trouble."

  There were not many places that a person could walk between the buildings but this man had stopped at one of these and disappeared into the opening.

  Dobie rode on carefully until he was beside the man's horse and as he looked between the buildings he saw the man and now he recognized him...it was Smitty.

  Although he didn't see Lance come out of his office and start across the street. He did hear the man yell as he raised his shotgun.

  "Whitcliff!"

  When he saw the gun coming up he drew and fired, and the man went down. What he didn't see was Lance drawing and firing and the dust flying half way between them where the pellets from the shotgun hit the street.

  Two of Lance's bullets hit him in the chest and Dobie's hit him in the side, and he was dead before he hit the ground. It happened so fast that Don didn't have time to get there to warn Lance, but the yell from Smitty himself was enough to do it.

  It didn't put a total end to trouble but it curbed it to the point the residents of the town developed a new pride in their community. This is why the Mayor was sorry to see Lance leave.

  As he rode up the final part of the hill and the mine came into view he knew he would have trouble telling the boys what his plan was. They had been together for six years since the war and three years during the war, and now he was going to part their ways.

  He was in luck as he caught the boys getting ready to take another load to the smelter. Ian McDonald came over and shook his hand when he dismounted.

  "Welcome back son, I don't hardly git to leave this mine and git into town but I'm mighty pleased to hear how you got things straightened out down there."

  Lance followed him over to the wagon where Dobie and Don were waiting. Dobie being the talkative one spoke up.

  "What brings you way out here?"

  Lance smiled and pointed at Ian.

  "I was just wondering which one of you got up enough nerve to try and kick Ian's ass."

  Don jumped in.

  "Well you wasted a good ride if you're waiting for that to happen."

  The three of them shook hands and backslapped each other and Lance became more serious.

  "My brother is in trouble and I have to go and help him out, and just wanted to let you know I will be gone for a while."

  The two boys started to talk at once.

  "We're going with you!"

  Lance knew what their reactions would be.

  "No boys, I want you to stay here, this is something I have to do alone, and being brothers I think you will understand."

  They knew all about Larry from the letters that Lance had received through the years and they felt that he was as much a part of them as Lance was. They were reluctant but they finally agreed with him and they watched him ride off.

  The trip to New Mexico was long and he had plenty of time to think. He had always envied his brother Larry for his ability to stick to his plan of owning a ranch in the west. He had followed his trail to that goal through the letters he received.

  Larry had first stopped in Texas where he convinced a big rancher to give him a job. Because of the war there was a shortage of young men to work the ranches and even though he was inexperienced he was given the job, but due to that inexperience he was not given a riding job, but ended up doing all the chores the riders hated. The boss watched as he accomplished them without a complaint and he recognized his eagerness to learn about ranching and eventually he gave him the chance he wanted...he was a cowboy.

  It was not an easy conversion for a young man from the Northeast, and although he had never declared any interest in the war, he was in a part of the country that had succeeded from the Union. There was no covering up his Boston accent, but the rest of the hands took a liking to him and with their help the made him a passable hand. Through the next three years he worked on two more big ranches in Texas, until he finally heard about the opening up of new lands in New Mexico.

  A man named Juan de Onate came with a large group of colonists in the late fifteen hundreds and started the first permanent settlement in New Mexico. He brought with him some livestock including sheep and cattle and found that the land in the northern part was ideal country for raising cattle but it had a drawback, the Apache Indians violently protected the area.

  Each of the few existing ranches were owned by the Mexican families who had first settled there. Their ranch houses were built in the hacienda style, almost like forts and they left the Apaches alone as long as they were left alone.

  The Apache problem together with the lack of water to sustain large herds hindered the opening of the country to large ranches but the water problem was cured somewhat by the buffalo hunters who came to the area and dug many wells that were spring fed. That, combined with the fact that the Apache were being driven back into the mountains, opened up the land for development. With the influx of the Americans into the territory came the army, and eventually the Apaches were driven further into the mountains.

  Many of the spring fed, dug wells that were nested on by the buffalo hunters were sold to ranchers moving into the area and Larry managed to get a job on a small ranch in that part of the territory.

  He had worked enough time on the large ranches in Texas
to know that a large ranch was not what he wanted to own. He wanted a small ranch with just enough cattle that he could run it alone or maybe with one hand. He found that ranch owned by an old timer named Sam Benson. Sam was not a very ambitious man and spent most of time nursing a bottle, but when Larry signed on as a hand he started to turn things around.

  This was exactly the kind of ranch he had in mind all these years and Sam eventually offered to sell him half of the ranch. Larry was not interested in owning something he did not have the biggest say in, so he held out until Sam finally agreed to sell seventy five percent. He now owned his ranch but in all the years of his dreaming he had never envisioned a wife on the ranch with him that was until he met Betty.

  It was love at first sight for both of them and Betty was as hardworking and ambitious as he was so he didn't have to hire another hand. He realized he would get no more work out of Sam as he spent most of his time just riding around, so he spent little time in trying to change him.

  He and Betty were happy with the fact that they had their dream, and one day they were even happier when he offered to buy Sam out, and he took the offer. Now they had the ranch all to themselves that is to them and their daughter Rachael. She was born the first year they were married and Larry could not be any prouder.

  The ranch was unique to the area because it had a stream running from the mountains down through the center of it and on through the town of Prineville to the farms further east, eventually flowing into the Rio Grande.

  The town's people made use of some of the water and the farmers used more for irrigation of their crops, but the drought of the last four years was changing all that. Although it continued to flow, none of it ever reached the Rio Grande, the last bit was used by the farmers, and it was still not enough for them.