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Father Kit Cool Gun Garth

RANGER'S JUSTICE - Desert Trail

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In the distance an Owl hooted twice and the hair on the old man neck stood on end.

The old man had a bad feeling and cold shiver ran down his spine.

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He knew only too well these were the Wichita, who had migrated to this part of Northeast Texas. Unlike other plains Indians, they were darker, shorter and stockier. This friendly, well armed scout was the decoy to expose their enemy. The Old Desert Rat and his new charge were in trouble.

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The Old Man has been around a long time .

He new he had to stay calm to stay alive .

He just smiled at the Indian and showed him both his hands was empty .

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Not a word was spoken but the sound of galloping horses could be heard in the distance.

 

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The indian quickly looked at the Rangers wound and tried to remember what his medicine man would do.

 

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The Ranger was conscious enough to realize that they had company and was grateful the old man had placed his Colt under his blankets on his left side.

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"Injun," he thought, then the weathered face turned into the lined, wrinkled face of his old Grandma, and he felt her fingers working some of her herbal salve into his sore muscles as red native fingers worked a healing moss against the raw wound's entrance and exit.

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Once he had covered the wounds, the Indian pointed to his own chest and said ”Tonkawa”. Old Pete new just enough of the Wichita language to realize the name had something to do with a horse. Pointing to himself the old man said, well Ol’ Hoss you can call me “Desert Pete” and this here youngn is Ed.

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The Indian smoked a pipe with them .

The old Man Pet Knew from his past experience with the Indians .

This was to help relieve Ed's pain 

  

A large group of  Pony's rode threw the Camp .

They never even seemed to look at them .

Like they  was all  in the Spirit world and could not be seen . 

 

A little wile  latter the Indian rode off on his pony in the direction ,

 the other Indian's was travailing .

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The old man and the Ranger decided to get some shut eye as the sun had set and it was getting dark.

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Morning came on bright and cheery. Pete was getting ready to brew coffee and realized water was getting low and that they would need to get going soon.

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After a strong coffee the young ranger was keen to saddle up, still a might sore he said but best they move on, Pete agreed  & started to roll up there swags.

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It was going to be a two day ride as they were headed to the town of Tarrant, just across the Sabine River. Pete knew this would be the best place to take the ranger, as it was well known the town was named after Texas Ranger and Indian fighter General Edward H. Tarrant.

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The two mounted up and started out slowly. 

Ed started to open up and  tell  Pete .

 I was on the tail of the Outlaw  Brett Black .

When I was ambushed by his gang of rebels .

And Brett Got away again 

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Well young feller, says Pete, we best get yuh on to Tarrant and have a Sawbones look at that there shoulder afore yuh go gallivant’n after that Brett Black feller. I hear he’s one shifty son of a gun. I’d hate to see yuh tangle with him and his bunch afore yur proply healed up. Once yur ready I expect I’l trail along with yuh. Kind of watch yur back so to speak.

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Ole Pete decides it's best to take the high road along to canyon and keep an eye on Ed. Never knowing what you can run into along this trail.

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The Ranger was grateful the old man knew how to sling a bad wing: he looked at his finger tips sticking out the end of the supporting muslin and was relieved what he saw was dirt on his fingers and not purple fingers.

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As the two crossed the Sabine river and headed toward the town of Tarrant .

Ed says to the Old man look, That's Ranger Cool coming towards us .

Nobody sits a Horse like Ranger Cool .

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Howdy Ed says Ranger Cool, we were starting to worry about you, head on into town & I'II catch up with you soon..there's been a a lot going on since you've been gone, who's your friend you got there & why is your shoulder all trussed up. ? The Ranger headed off leaving Ed & Pete to mosey into Tarrant.

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Ed and Pete went directly to Doc Molar's office, he was a dentist but also a doctor and a vet.

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The Rangerhad thought the pain of the gunshot was bad...this was much worse. The Vetrinarian worked quickly to get the bullet out.

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It wasn't the pain that was so bad, but the SMELL.  "What the heck is that, Doc?" the Ranger asked.

"I was treating a colicky horse out back when you showed up," the Doc replied. "I guess he's cleared out now."

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Doc Molar finally reached the bullet, a big ol' .45-70, tore right through the flesh like a butter knife!!!

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Doc Molar really had to Open up the wound yo get that heavy bullet out .

With all the damage done to the soft tissue  there was No  major broken bones.

And Doc was able to close up the hole with just a few stitches. 

 

Doc Molar said to Ranger Ed 

You are a lucky Ranger. 

You will be very sore for a wile but you should heal in time , With little side effects from this mess you got yourself in too.

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Meanwhile, down at the saloon, a dark faced, bearded, hombre was listening intently to the locals gabbin' about the riders who came into Doc Molar's office earlier in the day.

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"Bartender! Another shot of whiskey!" bellowed the bearded hombre, as he slid a nickel across the bar.

Over in the corner of the saloon at the poker table, another stranger dressed in a white shirt,  raised his head ever so slightly, over his full house hand, to catch a glimpse of the commotion at the bar.

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About this time, Sheriff John York was leaving the county jail house at the corner of Jones and E. Belknap Street. He had heard about the Old man and Ranger Ed coming into town and going to Doc Molars' office. Stepping off the boardwalk in front of the jail and into the dusty street, he saw Ranger Ed heading straight for the Saloon. "Hey Ed, Sheriff York here. I'd like to have a few words with you. Come on over to my office and we'll chat over a couple of glasses of whiskey." Never refusing an offer for a free drink, Ranger Ed turned and headed for the jail house.

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As Ranger Ed entered the sheriff's office, Sheriff York poured some whiskey into a couple of glasses. Ed said, Sheriff I need that shot after the doc whittled on me. Ed pitched the drink down and Sheriff York asked, "All right Ranger, now tell me what happen".

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I wish it were easy to tell, Sheriff, but it's kinda like a bad dream. You see, I didn't see it comin', and before I knew, I was knocked off my horse.

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Meanwhile in the Saloon. 

There was a few bad Hombres

hanging about .

A Couple of them still looked to be  Old  Confederate soldiers.

Who has never gave up there old ways .

They seemed to be placed strategically about   the Saloon watching everything  .

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At the Sheriff’s office Ed continued, ‘They questioned me about what I was doing out there. I had hidden my Ranger Badge in a false bottom of my saddlebags. They didn’t know I was stalking them. I acted green and scared and they bought it. So they didn’t watch me very well. At night I slipped a small knife from my sleeve and cut my way free. They had been drinking heavily and I snuck out to the corral. My trusty roan Buck was waiting saddled as they never cared for him. I walked him for a mile and then mounted up to ride for help.

 

Whoever shot me must have been sure of his aim. Lucky for me, he never came down to check on his kill. When I came to, I was able to climb on my trusty roan and ride away. My next lucky break was being spotted by Old Pete the desert rat. He patched me up a bit and brought me here to Doc Molar’.

 

Sheriff York said,’Don’t underestimate Old Pete’.  ‘He may appear to be just an old desert rat, but he has been in this area longer than just about any other white man. Before Pete the last civilized people to visit the area were the Spanish Conquistadors. They came and left long before the present local Indian tribes were moving in, to push out the Indians that the Conquistadors first met here.

 

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This was the third full house I had drawn in the last hour, normally a winning hand but only the first one was a winning hand. The second one the dealer had ran the pot up a bit higher than normal, and the dealer was doing again. It might be time for a new dealer, but I was not sure I wanted to attract any attention right now.

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Rye was observing the same thing about the dealer and gave Mad Dog a wink to tell him he's on to the dealer too! He also got a look from one of the other cowboys at the table. There were three now that were on to the dealer's cheatin' ways! Rye unhooked the holster thong and had his Colt ready!

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