Sam Bass (21 page)

Halfway up to the cabin, I heard the gunfire. At first I thought it was meant for me, then I knowed it was too far away. Then I thought maybe a posse had finally got the nerve to come up Cove Hollow, but it didn't sound like no fight. Just a shot or two, then a long quiet, then two or three more shots. Rifle shots, echoing down the hollow.

When I got to the clearing below the cabin I seen what they was doing. Some tin cans was set on the creek bank, and they was shooting at them from the ledge. I seen the boys bellied down with their rifles and hollered, “Hold your fire!”

Sam hollered, “Come on up!” and Barnes and Jackson set up and started reloading. I worked my horse up the slope. “Wheat put up?” Sam asked.

“Yep.”

“Good crop?”

“Pretty good. What the hell you doing?”

“Just practice. Take down your rifle and come.” I put up my horse and joined them. “How good are you on the shoot?” Sam asked. “Not very good. Hello, Frank? Seab?”

They nodded but didn't say nothing. They sure had changed in the weeks I was in Tyler. Frank had, anyways. I'd never knowed Seab too well, and he was a quiet one anyways.

“Well, you better practice,” Sam said. “The posses is getting serious, and the boys and me decided to get serious, too. See that can on the end? Play like that's old Dad sneaking up on us. What you going to do to him, Jim?”

I took careful aim and fired, and the can jumped. It was a lucky shot. Barnes laughed. “‘Bye, Dad,” he said.

We practiced for half an hour, and I hit about one out of five, the worst of the bunch. But Sam said, “You'll do.”

“Seen any posses lately?” Barnes asked.

“Not a one,” I said.

“Now ain't that strange?”

“Maybe they're wore out,” I said. “Or maybe they had to go get their crops in. Or maybe they think you left the country.”

“That's what we're going to do,” Sam said. “The boys and me decided its getting too hot here. We're going to strike out and find us a bank.”

“Where?”

“Don't know yet. We're just going looking.”

“Maybe Henry would like to go with us,” Jackson said. “You seen him, Jim?”

“I ain't,” I said, “but Daddy has. He showed up the night before I went to help with the thrashing and collected his wife and kids and taken off. He's running.”

“That son of a bitch,” Barnes said.

“Maybe he ain't so dumb,” Jackson said.

“You know where we could get a good horse?” Sam asked. “That old crowbait of yours that Seab's riding is about give out.”

I thought a minute. “Yeah. Bill Mounts. He bought a nice saddlehorse just the other day.”

“Mounts? Down by Denton? Well, tonight we'll lift that horse.” Sam stood up and raised his arms like a medicine show man trying to raise a crowd. “The old rascal will walk out in the morning and find that horse gone, and he'll go back to the house with his lips hung down and his face long as hell. ‘Well, old lady, my fine horse is gone,' he'll say. ‘Sam Bass got him! What shall I do! My horse is gone! I bet Jim Murphy told him about him! Oh! That Murphy!' “This was said with a lot of clowning and hand-wringing, and we all laughed. Sam laughed, too, and set down. “Oh, they'll give you hell for joining us, Jim. But you won't mind, will you? You've turned loose now.”

“I've turned loose,” I said. “We'll just rob them where we find them.”

“Damn right,” Sam said. “We'd just as well rob one as another now, because they're all after us.”

So that night we rode down to Denton and stole Bill Mounts's horse, and then on east toward the Elm bottoms. As we rode along next morning Sam talked a blue streak about the Rangers, saying he'd made a mistake by running from them, and bragging about all the killing he was going to do if he run into them again. “Yeah, boys, we're going to quit this running,” he said. “We're shut of old Henry, and I hope we stay shut of him. That old man just couldn't stand the racket, and I don't want no man with me that can't stand the racket. If I'd never ran from nobody, they never would've been so hot after me as they've been, and I ain't going to let that happen no more.”

Jackson and Barnes didn't answer a word, and neither did I. Sam didn't seem to be talking to us, anyways. I think he would've did the same thing if he'd been by hisself. And it was hotter than blazes. The sun was bright and the air still and the prairie steaming. We sweated through our shirts, and sweat was rolling down my face and dripping onto my saddle. It wasn't weather for talking, or riding, neither. Late in the afternoon it clouded over and got cooler, and I knowed the weather was going to break. “We better be looking for a place to stop,” I said, but Sam said, “No, let's push on.” When darkness fell it started raining like the clouds had just been waiting for the sun to go down. It was dark as the inside of a hat, and we was in the middle of a big pasture and couldn't see nothing, and soon we was lost. We just wandered around with the rain hitting us in the face, and we could've been going in circles for all I knowed. But after a while we seen a farm house with a light in the window, and Sam dropped back beside me.

“Jim, ride up and tell them we're looking for a pair of stolen mules and a big, fine horse. Tell them we're June Peak's Rangers, and you live in Wise County, and your name is Paine. Tell them you met up with Peak and got three of his boys to come with you to help arrest the thieves.”

I didn't see no need for such a complicated tale, but I rode up and knocked on the door, and when the old man answered it, I told the story the best I could. The old man invited us in, and his woman fixed us a good supper. After we ate, while we was still setting around the table, the farmer started talking about Sam Bass. “I heared the railroads beat him out of a big pile of money, and that's why he robs them trains,” the farmer said.

“I don't know nothing about the man,” Sam said. “Old June Peak had me out on a couple of raids after him, but I don't know nothing about him. There must be
something
good about him, though. He's got a lot of friends.”

The old farmer filled his pipe and lit it and said, “Well, I think a heap of him myself, even though I've never seen him. He never done no harm to decent folks, and far as I'm concerned, he can rob them railroads all he wants to. More power to him.”

That tickled Sam, and the next morning when we was riding away, he said, “Well, it wouldn't take much to make that old man solid with me. There's still some good people left.”

Later than morning the horse we'd stole from Bill Mounts throwed a shoe, and we stopped at the village of Frankfort to have him shod. We left the horses at the smith's and stepped across the road to the store, and Sam bought some candy. We was setting in the store eating it, and this towheaded farm boy come in with a sack of peaches. He was about ten years old. He went up to the clerk and tried to trade him his peaches for some candy. The clerk wouldn't trade, and the kid got mad. “I worked hard all year and made nothing!” he hollered. “I got a notion to go find Sam Bass and rob some trains! I ain't making nothing farming!”

We all laughed at that, and the clerk did, too. The kid looked our way and seen we was eating candy, so he come over and said to Sam, “Stranger, if you'll give me some candy, I'll give you some peaches.”

“How many peaches you got?” Sam asked.

“A dozen.” The boy reached into the sack and pulled one out. It was a big, golden, juicy one.

“Well, that looks like a fine peach,” Sam said. “Will you trade us the whole sack for the candy we got left?”

“You bet!” the boy said. So they made the trade, and the boy left happy.

We asked the store clerk and the smith if they'd seen anybody driving a pair of fine mules and a fine horse, but of course they ain't. We rode off and stopped about two miles out of town to fix our dinner. “What do you reckon that boy would've did if I'd told him I was Sam Bass and showed him a couple of double-eagles?” Sam said. “I bet I could've broke his eyes off with a board. I bet he never seen twenty dollars in his whole life. That's the way it is around here. We're coming into good country now. They know what Sam Bass is about.”

We rode on about three or four miles, and nobody said nothing the whole time. Then Sam said, “You boys go on ahead. I got some business. I'll meet you again a couple of miles farther on.” He spurred his mare and taken off toward some trees. The rest of us looked at each other like we wondered what was up, but we didn't say nothing. Sure enough, a couple of miles down the way Sam caught up with us, and three other men was with him. Just as they was riding up, one of the strangers said, “Blast that Murphy! Sam, you ought to kill him right now!”

I thought my belly was coming right up through my mouth. Oh God, the jig's up, I thought. I turned to Jackson and said, “Frank, did you hear that?”

“Yeah, Jim,” he said. “Just set easy. I won't let them hurt you.” Barnes was looking at me real peculiar. The men rode up to us, and fell in with us. Sam didn't make no introductions. While we was riding along one of the strangers said, “People around here say they expect June Peak to show up any time now.”

“Yes, we're going to have hell,” Sam said, real angry.

A little farther one, the stranger said, “Well, we'll be leaving you now. Keep your eyes open and watch each other.” Then him and his friends turned and rode away.

“Who was that?” Jackson asked.

“Henry Collins,” Sam said. “Joel's brother.”

We continued some ways, still not saying nothing, but there was something in the air. Barnes had dropped back behind the rest of us. Every time we would slow down, he would, too, always keeping just a few yards behind us. Then we come to a place where the road went through a grove of big live oaks, and when we got into their shade Barnes stopped and pulled his gun and pointed it at me. “Sam!” he said.

Sam hadn't been watching Barnes like I had, and he looked surprised. Jackson did, too, and put his hand on his own gun, but didn't pull it.

“Sam, did Joel's brother ever tell you a lie?” Barnes asked.

“Not that I know of.”

“Well, I think we ought to kill this son of a bitch right now.” Barnes waved his gun at me.

“Take it easy, Seab,” Jackson said.

“The hell I will! That bastard's in cahoots with the Rangers! I've thought it all along, and now Collins comes and tells us flat out!”

“Well, if that's the case, we
will
kill him right now,” Sam said. He slouched on his mare, staring at me in that Indian way he had. For the life of me, I couldn't tell if he meant it or not. But Barnes meant it. He cocked the pistol and raised his arm.

“Now wait a minute!” Jackson said. “We ain't going to kill him just like that!” He drawed his own pistol and cocked it.

“Frank, ain't it strange that Dad Egan ain't been around looking for him?” Barnes was screaming. “This son of a bitch didn't jump bail at all! Ain't it strange that we ain't seen a single posse since he tied in with us?”

I considered going for my gun, but Barnes had such a drop on me I knowed I wouldn't stand a chance. I stayed still. Jackson glanced at me like he wasn't sure Barnes wasn't making sense.

“Can I have a say before you bust my hide?” I asked.

Jackson looked relieved. “Yeah. We owe you that.”

I taken a deep breath and said, “Well, boys, I know it looks bad, but it ain't what you're thinking. Seab's partly right. I
did
make a deal with Major Jones, but it was just to get me and Daddy out of jail. I never had the slightest notion of really doing it. You boys got me in this trouble, you know. But you wasn't doing nothing to get me out of it. And I fallen on this plan to give Major Jones the grand slip. I'm free now, and I'm a hundred per cent with you boys. And I reckon if you'll think on it a while you won't kill me.”

They didn't say nothing for the longest time. Sam just slumped there holding his reins. Jackson and Barnes, still holding their guns, didn't move a muscle. It was so still I could hear a mockingbird in one of the oaks. Finally Jackson said, “Jim, I would've done the same thing myself.”

“No!” Barnes screamed. “It's too goddamned thin! How does it sound to you, Eph?”

Sam pushed his hat back and scratched his head. “I don't know how to fix that up under my hair. What do you say, Frank?”

“You and me have knowed Jim a long time,” he said. “Sometimes he's been the only friend we had. I just don't think he'd give us away.”

“I think he would!” Barnes said. “And we'd best kill him while we've got the chance!”

Sam looked me straight in the eye and said, “All right, he goes.”

Jackson aimed his gun at Barnes's chest. “Well, he don't go. You ain't killing Jim without killing me, too. We talked him into leaving his home and coming with us, and I'll be damned if I'll let you kill him. He's been like a brother to me, and we mustn't hurt him.”

“Well, I don't trust my brother no more,” Barnes said.

“He's been a brother to all of us,” Jackson said.

“Hell! Hell! Blast the brother!” Sam was in a rage like I'd never seen. “I
got
no brothers! I don't
need
no brothers! They're just brothers for my money!”

Jackson said quietly, “I'm your brother, Eph.”

There was a spot of spit at the corner of Sam's mouth. He wiped it away. “Yeah, Frank, you're my brother,” he said. He looked down and didn't say nothing for a long time, like he was studying his saddle horn. Then he looked at Jackson. “If you say Jim's all right, then he's all right with me, too.” He turned and started down the road.

Barnes cussed and uncocked his gun and rode to catch him. Jackson stayed beside me like he was protecting me. In a few minutes we rode into a dark bottom, and I become alarmed. I thought Sam and Barnes might turn around and shoot me. Jackson must've noticed my fear, for he said, “Don't worry. I won't let them hurt you.” Then he said, “But it
was
nearly hell, wasn't it?” He leaned to me and whispered, “If you ever
do
lay a plan to catch anybody, you'll have some place for me to get out, I know.”