Topic: Tales of the Arizona Rangers

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 19:32 EST

Bud Hagan was not happy with his present surroundings. He had been tipped that a small herd of stolen beef would be coming up this canyon sometime tonight. Against his better judgment he had shown up to wait.

First of all, his tip had arrived in the form of a hand printed note. The childish scrawl looked like it was meant to be that of a child. Hagan did not believe it. The message was nothing a child would be concerned with.

Secondly, this little canyon was too rocky for his taste. In rattlesnake country, knowing men avoided such places at night. Bud sat in the shadow of a mesquite bush with his eye to the blackness beyond. He wasn't afraid of snakes; he just didn't like taking unnecessary chances.

His third dislike was the rumor mill that that the area between Tombstone and Nogales had become in the last few weeks. The actual robberies were bad enough, but when people started talking about ghosts and spirits common sense went out the window.

It had started when the mule train of Jesus Morales had been attacked in an arroyo on its way back to Cananea.

It was a supply train loaded with supplies. Apparently this fact was not known to the outlaws, for they killed every last man and beast in front of them. The culprits were never discovered, but there were a lot of people that thought Johnny Ringo and the survivors of the Clantons did the dirty deed.

The one Mexican lad that escaped swore he saw a strange shadowy creature at the top of the arroyo that made the noises of Satan himself. Nobody present thought to ask the lad how he knew what the devil made for noises.

It was apparent that the people took the kid's word for it. No matter what the crime, from a hold up to a coyote getting in a chicken pen, reference was made to this supernatural creature.

Bud Hagan was an Arizona Ranger based in Cochise County, Arizona Territory. While he wasn't actually required to be sitting out here in the dark he considered it his duty. The same duty that had been his guiding post throughout his life, that dictated the type of man that he was.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 19:33 EST

At fifty he was considered old by some people, but only by those that didn't know him. A lifetime spent mostly in the outdoors toughens a man and increases his skills instead of sapping them. He could keep up with men half his age. The few people in the know recognized him as one of the fastest pistol shots in the Southwest. He was never one to show off, so this fact was a well kept secret. On the occasions that he had to use it his fast draw was usually the last thing an outlaw got a glimpse of.

His exploits were far overshadowed by the famous lawmen in Tombstone, for Wyatt Earp and his cronies took recognition wherever they could get it. Hagan stayed in the background, working with the city marshals when necessary but never hogging the limelight.

A motion below him caught his attention. He looked away, for in the night the peripheral vision is often sharper than a straight gaze. Now he could make out eight shapes coming up the canyon. Ghostly shapes, perhaps, but certainly not ghosts. Now he could hear the animal's feet as they approached. Six beef critters and two drivers made up the whole parade.

Six cows were hardly worth stealing. Most ranchers would give away one or two head if a man needed meat to feed his family. These two rustlers must be starting small. Probably they figured they wouldn't be bothered if they kept the take low.

The cattle seemed to sense his presence in the shadows and began to balk a bit. The drivers showed their inexperience in that they did not pay attention to the beasts. Instead they rode close to their rumps and switched then with ropes. The more they did this the more the cattle wanted to turn back.

Somehow the rustlers kept the cattle moving forward. Bud watched closely, and when the attention of the riders was behind them he quickly waved his arm.

This was all it took. The half-wild cattle were sure he was up to no good and they circled to go back down the canyon. The outlaws lashed at them to go back and only succeeded in making an eddy of uneasy cows. When the confusion was at its peak Hagan stood up and announced his presence.

"This is Arizona Ranger Hagan. You're both under arrest."

A shot immediately rang out. The man was fast, Bud had to give him that. He was not accurate, though, for the sheriff didn't even hear the whistle of the shot. He now drew and shot over their heads, hoping to end this confusion without a killing.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 19:36 EST

To his surprise one of the riders raced directly at him, his six shooter blazing! Hagan rolled out of the way and snapped a shot at the man, who fell from his saddle upon the impact of the bullet. The other man was sky lighted as he galloped away in the other direction!

Cautiously the ranger approached the fallen man. It was well he did, for the man's arm jerked and Hagan kicked the revolver away from his groping hand.

"How bad are you hurt?" inquired the lawman.

"You got me in the shoulder. I'll live."

Hagan lit a match with his left hand and leaned over him. "One false move and you'll feel this barrel alongside your head. You savvy?"

"Yeah, I hear ya. You got lucky tonight you know."

"Lucky' When I was your age I was fighting Indians. If I'd been as clumsy as you I would have lost my scalp a long time ago."

Hagan took a chance and lighted a small fire so as to tend to the wounded man's shoulder. The bullet had gone straight through the muscle and barring infection it would heal with no trouble. He bandaged it and helped the man to his saddle. Then to insure he didn't run off he handcuffed his by his good arm to the horn. With one arm in a sling and the other cuffed it was doubtful the man could make an escape. To make sure the ranger retrieved his own mount and led the other by its reins.

The cattle had drifted back the way they came and Hagan rode in that direction until coming upon the trail that ran north to Tombstone. This he followed, bringing his prisoner to the jail just as the sun came up. He sent the jailer for the doctor, then leaned back with his feet on a desk. He was beat. As he grew older the long nights didn't get any harder; they never had been easy.

As soon as the jailer came back with a doctor Hagan decided that a good breakfast was in order. Entering Molly's Place, he spotted Wyatt Earp sitting alone and went over to join him.

"Saw you come in early with a prisoner. Was he trying to steal silver?" Earp queried.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 19:48 EST

"Nope, he's a cattle rustler, and a mighty poor one at that."

"Looked like he'd been shot. He must have made his play."

"He did. Not a very good one, but he made it. He was fast enough but he couldn't hit anything. You know the type."

"Yeah, I sure do. Some of these fellows never learn that being fast isn't even half the battle. If they can't hit what they're shooting at they might as well be shooting blanks. Oh, well, it makes it easier for us. If these would-be gunmen were as good as they would have you believe we would have been dead a long time ago."

Earp ordered more coffee and asked the ranger about the adventures he had the previous evening. Hagan told him of the way his prisoner had shot immediately while his partner turned and ran away.

"Sounds like a certain Clanton that I know. Doubtful, though."

"Yeah, both of these fellows are pretty young. The prisoner wouldn't give me his name. Maybe it's someone you recognize."

"I'll take a look later. I know about everyone that comes to Tombstone. What's this about spooks out in the desert' I've heard stories that make me want to hide under the bed at night."

"I'd like to see that," the ranger laughed. "What gets me about this banshee that people hear is that it always heard or seen when a robbery is taking place. A spook is just a spook. I never heard of one going into a career of rustling and robbery."

"No, any ghost is beyond the reach of human needs. Probably it's just a noise heard by scared people. Makes for a good story, though. Make a good penny dreadful." Then, getting down to business, he asked the ranger, "Are you going to go out and try to track down the other rustler? I'm pretty much unemployed today. Why don't you sleep until noon and then I'll come along and see some countryside."

"Sounds good, Wyatt. I'll meet you back here for lunch."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 19:49 EST

By mid-afternoon they were arriving at the point where Hagan and his prisoner had met the trail on the previous night. They circled around the escapee's route and found that he had turned and rode toward Bisbee. When his track merged with a large herd of cattle the lawmen gave up.

"I'll run into him later," said the ranger. "Crooks that dumb always try it again. Let's go up to Applebee's and see if we can spend the night."

"There must be some attraction," replied Wyatt dryly. It was known across the territory that Applebee had not only a very attractive daughter of twenty five but a wife that was possibly the best cook south of Denver.

"Yeah, I could stand to catch up on my sleep. I've got to admit that a feed of roast pork would taste pretty good, though. I haven't had any since the last time I was here."

Applebee was known for the quality of the pigs that he grew. He had taken note of Pete Kitchen's success with hogs and had bettered the product. Kitchen's hogs were not well protected and often sprouted so many Apache arrows that they were know as Pete Kitchen's pincushions. Leon Applebee had constructed sturdy pens for his pigs, and they ate the best food that he could get for them. He would gather wagon loads of nuts and berries for them and when he had the manpower he would herd them to the verdant banks of the higher streams and let them root.

He also raised a large garden, some chickens and some cattle. The garden was watered with an ingenious irrigation system that was a forerunner of things to come. He brought in a little silver from time to time so he must have found a lode somewhere in his hills. The amounts were never too much so nobody had inquired further into the man's mining activities.

Wyatt had been pondering events as they rode along. "You know, it's great that Applebee does so well, but his kind of operation with be the end of the Southwest as we know it. I've heard talk of irrigation in California as well. Such things would tame this area and leave you and I out in the cold."

"Why' There will still be crime. The human race is never without it."

"True enough, but how would you like to be chasing a watermelon thief instead of a rustler" I just can't see it. I can get by anywhere, and Bat is already talking of going to New York to work. But you have lived your whole life out here, right?"

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 19:49 EST

"All my working years, anyway. I came from New Hampshire, did you know that' Once I got out here I never had any urge to go back. Those winters are cold!"

They were almost to the top of the last hill before Applebee's holdings when a sound filled the air and stopped them dead in their tracks.

"Now what in tarnation was that?"

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 19:50 EST

The two lawmen ground hitched their mounts and eased up to the top of the hill on foot. The eerie sound was repeated and all of a sudden Wyatt began to grin.

"Bud, I'll bet you've never been to Arkansas, have you?"

"Nope, I came straight out here and never visited the South. Why?"

"Because the farmers raise a lot of side meat down that way, and they call their hogs rather than run after them. They even have hog calling contests. It sounds like we've got a winner in front of us."

The ranger looked at Earp closely to see if he was pulling his leg. He decided the man was serious and relaxed. Now they retrieved their horses and rode over the hill to see who had lost a pig.

They came upon an older regal looking woman who put her hand to the side of her mouth and once again gave forth her call.

"Sooieeee!"

She looked up as she heard their horses approaching.

Hagan introduced them. "I'm Arizona Ranger Bud Hagan, and this is Wyatt Earp, marshal of Tombstone. We were tracking a rustler but we gave it up for a bad job. Thought we might stop by and visit Leon Applebee."

"Of course. Leon is down at the house. I'm his mother. Guess which one of us gets to hunt down lost pigs?"

Wyatt smiled. "Ma'am, it sounds like you have the talent for it."

"I should smile. I was the hog calling champion of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania three years running. Leon never had the talent for it." She gave her call again and a large hog broke out of the brush. She waved her arms and shooed it back towards the small ranch.

"Honestly, Ill never understand pigs. Leon treats them like royalty, feeding them the best food available and giving them nice big pens so that they can be clean. And what does this hog do' Gets the wanderlust and just has to see what lies beyond the next hill." She shook her head again and repeated her words. "I'll never understand pigs."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 19:51 EST

Leon Applebee met them at his front gate. "Howdy, fellows, it's good to get some company. I've been stuck here for I don't know how long with three women. Gets so I'm not my own boss."

"Sounds rough," said Wyatt dryly.

If Applebee noticed the witticism he didn't let on. "I don't even have to defend the place anymore. My daughter Linda gave a couple of would-be thieves a taste of birdshot last night. I don't think they will be back."

"What' Linda did that?" The words just slipped out before the ranger could stop them. He had met Linda and thought she was a delightful young woman. She was certainly no old maid just because she was twentyfive.

"Oh, that's right, you know her, don't you. Don't worry; she's okay."

Wyatt put his finger on an interesting fact. "Last night was kind of busy, wasn't it?"

"Yes, now that you mention it," pondered Hagan, "it was. I wonder if there was a larger motive for these activities?"

"We'll probably know, sooner or later." Earp turned to Applebee, "Are there any tracks worth checking out?"

"None that I could see." replied Leon. "I spent most of the day trying, but it wasn't any use.

"They came down through that patch of pine over there, and Linda was just coming home from quail hunting or she would never of seen them. It's too dark in those trees. Anyway, they came out in front of her to cut out a few steers. When they did she hollered at them to stop. They didn't so she cut loose with her scattergun and sent them running. I doubt if they've stopped yet."

"We had a similar attempt a few mile north of here last night," said the ranger. "I captured one and we've been out tracking the other. We finally gave up."

"Well, you may as well spend the night here," offered Leon Applebee. "You can have a good feed and we could use the company. Watch out for Ma; she's trying to marry off Linda."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 19:51 EST

They went up to the porch to sit and wait for dinner. It was a beautiful setting, and Hagan told the host as much. "This is sure a nice spread, Leon. You've done a lot of work here."

"You'd best believe it. It wasn't much different from Kitchen's when I started out. I had to haul those poles a long way, but it was worth it to keep the pigs in one spot. They can escape if they put their mind to it, but most of them don't. Ma was some upset with that one today. He'll be bacon in another week or I miss my guess.

"And then we get the other extreme," he said as a half grown hog came oinking up to the side of the porch. "That, believe it or not, is Pluto. Linda always has a couple she makes pets of, and he is the latest one. He has the run of the place. She claims he keeps down the snakes and such. I suppose he does but he is an awful pest."

As if to deny the words, the hog began to scratch his back on the corner of the porch and grunt his satisfaction. When he headed for the flower garden Leon stood up and hollered at him.

"Pluto, get out of that garden! I'll turn you into fat back and bacon one of these days."

"Pa, don't you be scaring Pluto. You know how sensitive he is!" The three men had to grin at this. Pluto looked like he was unaware of anything but his stomach.

Leon now ordered his daughter to help her mother with supper. "And put on a nice spread. Your ranger has come all this way to see you and here you are talking about dumb hogs."

"Bud, you've been out chasing some outlaw and I know it. Don't pay any attention to Pa. I think he's growing senile."

"I'll senile you," roared her father as he took a fake swipe at her rump. When she had gone in Leon turned to the ranger. "You know you can stop by anytime to see her, don't you? You're welcome here, and she is getting older. She should have her own man to boss around. Maybe she'd get out of my hair then. Well, maybe just part of the time."

"Thank you, but I doubt Linda has any interest in anybody my age."

"The older I get the more I realize age is just a relative thing. People put too much stock in it. You would be good for Linda, don't you agree, Mr. Earp?"

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 19:52 EST

The marshal was grinning widely. "Absolutely. Hagan has been alone for too long. The change would do him a world of good. And please, make it Wyatt."

When Mrs. Applebee called them in they could see the women really had outdone themselves with the food. A huge roast of pork resting in its own juices dominated the center of the table. Circled around it were bowls of potatoes, yams, corn, pickles and plenty of the outdoorsman's favorite, hot biscuits.

As usual, each man reached for a biscuit first and slathered it with butter. Be it bannock, bread or biscuit, most men who spend a lot of time outside go for these staples first. Perhaps it is because bread is the one thing you can not hunt down when in the wilderness.

When everyone had commented on how good the biscuits were, Mrs. Applebee announced that Linda made that batch all by herself. She directed her gaze at the ranger as she said this and he felt himself redden. These people were bound to see him hitched! Well, they would see about that!

"She's a good cook, isn't she, Wyatt?" The ranger was trying to shift the attention but Wyatt was onto him.

"Do you always feed like this, Leon?" Earp had managed to change the subject in a hurry. Bud noticed that he didn't look at either of the women, either.

"It helps when company comes," admitted Leon. "Then both women get into the act. Did I see you doing something with your hat, Linda?" He was referring to the old expression in which a young lady "set her cap" for the beau that she wanted.

"No, you did not. Don't you pay him any mind Bud. He's worse than an old woman when it comes to matchmaking."

Linda's mother now piped up. "You two should sing a duet after we eat. You should hear them sing harmonies, Me. Earp. They make beautiful music."

The ranger had expected her to add the word "together," but she had stopped just shy of that. He wasn't sure if he was glad or not. Linda shared a look with him that told him she had also picked up on the wordage.

Hagan thought a lot of the girl, but the difference in ages weighed on his mind. Heck, her father was the same age as he was. Why this didn't bother Leon he didn't know.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 19:53 EST

When the men were all so full they were sure they would burst, Linda went to the kitchen and brought out a mock apple pie. The men all groaned with pleasure for this was a rare treat. Made with soda crackers and spices, a mock apple pie was a treasure if made by a good cook.

Bud turned to Wyatt. "Isn't this good" I think it's the best I've ever had."

In a low voice Earp replied, "Best trap I ever ate."

The ranger looked at him sternly, but Wyatt had a look of innocence as he munched on the tasty dessert.

When the repast was done they all retired to the sitting room. This was a rarity in a western ranch, but Mrs. Applebee had one in her home back east and insisted on having one here. There were bookcases, straight back chairs and a piano for entertainment. The braided rug in the center of the floor attested to many hours spent in braiding and sewing rags.

Linda sang and played "Oh, Suzana," and they all joined in. Then Hagan went to stand beside her and together they performed "Conkles and Mussels."

Mrs. Applebee and her mother-in-law absolutely beamed at the beauty of the rendition. The men politely applauded. Leon asked Wyatt, "They do make quite a team, don't they, Marshal?"

"Indeed they do," said Earp as he watched the couple. "Indeed they do."

Mr. Applebee stood up. "Linda, why don't I go out and make the rounds tonight. You had your share of trouble last night."

"That's okay, Pa, I'll go. Pluto walks along with me and will warm me if anything is up." Her father snorted with derision at this statement.

"He will," she insisted. "He's smarter than most dogs, and he has a better nose."

This was a new one on her father. "Now why would you think that a pig has a good nose?"

"Because pigs do, that's why. Haven't you ever heard of them hunting truffles in France?" Her father shook his head 'no.'

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 19:54 EST

"Well, a truffle is a mushroom that lives under ground and you can't see it. So they take hogs to sniff them out. The pig points where to dig, and sure enough, under the ground there is a truffle."

"And why do they look so hard for these truffles?"

"Oh, Pa, why do you think" Because they are good to eat. They're a delicacy."

"I'll bet."

"Leon, don't you give her a hard time," Mrs. Applebee demanded. "I swear, I have never met anybody that likes to argue as much as you do. Linda, why don't you take your ranger out and walk with him. Be careful, just in case those thieves come back."

Bud took a quick glance at Wyatt, but found him to be quite wrapped up in a book. Earp could say more with body language than most men could in three sentences.

When they went outside Linda spoke to Bud. "Don't pay them any heed. They mean well. They just think I'm going to be an old maid. They might be right."

Hagan took exception to this. "Linda, there is no way you will become an old maid. You are much too beautiful for that."

"Why thank you, Bud," she told him as she drew near. "I want...

What she wanted would have to wait, for galloping into the ranch yard were a half dozen riders, who yelled, "Diablo! The devil was out there and stole our cattle!"

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 19:55 EST

The Arizona Ranger quickly called for order in a stentorian voice.

"Alright, which one of you is the leader" Step forward and tell your story calmly."

A Mexican man came to the front and announced, "I am Manuel Castos. I am the Segundo of the Needles ranchero."

"Very good, now what is all this about having a run in with the devil last night?"

"Senor, I am known as a fearless man, one who is afraid of nada. But the sounds and sights I heard made my muscles turn to water. They were too terrible to describe."

"Give it a try," commanded the ranger. As he spoke he took a look around. In back of him Earp was in the far corner of the porch, where he had cover from three angles but was free to watch the edges of the ranch yard. Hagan was also trying to peer into the shadows, trying to see if any gunman were waiting to make a play. It wouldn't be the first time that a diversion was sent into a yard while the owners were mown down from the sidelines.

The foreman crossed himself with one hand while the other touched the butt of his old Colt dragoon. "It had an eerie moaning roar that varied greatly in pitch. It was like the wind blowing up from Hades. There were men on horseback as well, obviously doing the work of this evil creature. They drove off our herd while the creature of evil spooked our horses. They were terrified, Senor, of this noisy apparition and left us all on foot. It was four hours before we recovered them. By then the cattle had vanished.

"One more thing I must say, even in the face of doubt. I saw his indistinct form and it was constantly changing. It was like a kitten in a pillowcase, all bumps and hollows and no straight lines. It was a sight I do not wish to see again."

"You and your men are safe here, Manuel. Perhaps Senor Applebee will be kind enough to give you a place to sleep and something to eat, and Ill ride out with you in the morning to look over the tracks. It is too late to head back tonight."

The Segundo looked relieved at this statement. He probably did not want to back at all, but he and the others all would to prove their bravery. Bud knew the type. Their campfire conversations were steeped with superstition but when the time for action came they were men to ride the river with.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 19:56 EST

When the Needles crew had retired the ranger talked it over with the other two men.

"I wish I didn't have to be back in Tombstone for court tomorrow. I'd like to see just what happed out there. Remember what we said about coincidence" If I was a betting man, which I am, I would say that the two small attempted robberies were just side plays to mask the theft of the Needles herd."

"I'm thinking you are right," admitted Bud, but why go to all that work for such a small bunch of cattle" Why not wait for a trail drive and steal thousands?"

Leon Applebee thought he had that one figured out. "Think of the man power needed. A small herd doesn't need nearly as much effort. And besides, what about spreading fear" I think that's what happened here. Scare enough of these lonesome cowboys on both sides of the border and Southern Arizona could become easy pickings."

"Leon, you ought to sign up with the Rangers. We can always use more brains in the outfit, and I think you've got 'em. I think you are square on the target. Word of last night will spread from one ranch to the next in no time and everyone will not only know the story; they will all add something to make it bigger. By the time it gets back to Manuel he won't even recognize it. And why should they confine it to Arizona" Surely they will run it into Sonora - perhaps even California."

"Bud, you've got to get to the root of this pronto. I'll keep my ears open in Tombstone. When I get free I'll take a ride back down here, just for the entertainment value."

"You've got a funny idea of what constitutes entertainment."

"Hey, the shows in Tombstone have all been running for the past five years. It's time for a change."

Before turning in Hagan stopped by the kitchen to get another biscuit.

"Aha! Caught you!" Linda nearly made him jump out of his skin, but this he didn't let on.

"Haven't you got anything better to do than go around spying on people?" he asked.

"Not when it's a big brave Arizona Ranger who is supposed to be out solving crimes and saving lives. Instead I find you sneaking a bed time snack."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 19:56 EST

"I have to keep my strength up. I never know when I might need it."

She suddenly became serious. "Bud, you be careful, do you hear" I know these men, and while their story is kind of wild I know they are telling the truth. There is an explanation somewhere and it might be dangerous when you find it." She repeated her earlier message. "You be careful."

Hagan was surprised at the sincerity of her plea. "Don't worry, little one, I'm always careful. It comes with the job or you don't last long." He searched for something to say that wasn't too forward, yet would clarify the situation for him. "When this is over would you like me to return and tell you what I find for answers?"

"Yes, I would like that. I might even like to hear a question." With that she whisked from the room, leaving the ranger in confusion. What had she meant about hearing another question' Dare he hope?

Sleep was an illusive thing as he pondered this question. He had thought his age was prohibitive, but even her father paid this notion no mind. He had been alone for so long that he couldn't even visualize what a married life might be like.

Morning came all too soon, but the small of coffee and hotcakes made up for the discomfort. Linda was absent, and her mother mentioned that she was out doing chores, and had been since before daylight.

When he went out into the yard he found the Needles hands mounted and ready to ride. Just before he got on his roan and rode away Linda came out from the stable. Saying no word, she came up to him and lightly kissed him on the lips.

"Come back to me, my Ranger."

"Hasta manana, mi amor," he whispered to her.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 19:57 EST

It was late morning when the ranger and the men of the Needles spread approached the scene of the theft. The heat was becoming oppressive as it normally does in the midday desert areas. Far in the distance two buzzards circled, waiting for the life to depart some poor creature. Other than that the sky and land were barren of movement. The rattlers were in whatever hole they could find and the Gila monsters lay motionless in the shade of the rocks, only asking to be left alone.

Hagan spotted the area of the theft before he was told. The narrow draw with hillsides dotted with boulder nests and copses of scrub oak made it the natural spot.

"Here is where we were set upon. Senor. The devil sent his men down into our faces and the results you know."

The ranger scoured the ground diligently but individual tracks were impossible to make out. This draw was more of a sandy wash, and that dry sand would not allow any distinction of form. Generalizations were all he could gather - nothing more.

"On the top of this hillside is where I saw the apparition of evil. From here he sent his band of men into our faces to steal all the cattle. They have disappeared and Diablo must have eaten them by now."

"He must have quite an appetite," said Bud dryly.

`"Who is to say' Such things are beyond my comprehension. I am a simple man, and would like to go back to a simple life," spoke a very sincere Manuel.

"That sounds like a good idea, Manuel. In fact, why don't you and your crew ride back to Needles now? I have a better chance of picking up a clear trail by myself, for there won't be as many horses making new tracks. I'll be in touch as soon as I learn anything."

"You are very brave, you Arizona Rangers. It makes my blood run cold to think of facing that devil again, but yet you take that chance by yourself. I hope we shall meet again, Senor Hagan."

"We will, Manuel, you have my word on it."

When the ranch hands were gone Hagan got down to work. He did find some large tracks where the devil was supposed to have been. With the shifting sands they could have been left by anything. A couple of times his nose caught a hint of a noxious odor, but this he put down to the traveling of a polecat.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 19:58 EST

The ranger had an idea of how the hoax was perpetrated. He had once known a fellow who could make unbelievable noises with just his mouth. He could even throw his voice so that it seemed to be coming from somewhere else.

As for what Manuel had seen, Bud remembered as a boy going to the circus. There he had seen two men in a horse costume. Their uncoordinated movements inside the costume were ridiculous and very funny. That same costume would look like a moving blob to Manuel in the night.

Hagan followed the direction of the herd's travel and found it headed south, then circled back in the direction of Tombstone! Of course. The silver mines there had just increased production, which resulted in more workers to feed. A new slaughterhouse had opened to supply beef for the miners. Such a place would not be apt to scrutinize the brands of the critters it bought. Still, they might have some bills of sale. The ranger wished he had a way to get in touch with Wyatt Earp and have him check it out while he was in town.

`Of course, so far this was all guesswork. His hunches could be way off base. For all he knew Manuel really did have a run in with the devil. But somehow he doubted it.

Hagan decided to try the other direction and find out where the gang had come from. He was surprised to see that every track came from a different direction. This was a sign of good organization. This was no haphazard chance encounter.

Who might be behind it' The name John Ringo came to mind. Ringo was known to be a brave man that didn't understand the meaning of fear. This he had proved in more than one gunfight. But he was not one to look for trouble, either. He was an intelligent man with a bent for crime, and Wyatt had told him that he believed the man was behind a couple of big unsolved silver heists. This meant he would have the means to support a large operation, if it was required.

Could this be the start of that large operation' Applebee had thought so. If it was an attempt to control the routes of Southern Arizona Ringo was the man to try it. Come to think of it, if Hagan didn't stop him, Johnny Ringo was the man who could do it.

That was more guesswork. In his work with the Rangers his first impressions had often proved to be correct, so Hagan had faith in his assumptions.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 19:59 EST

One track seemed to head for Huachuca Peak. On a hunch he decided to follow this one. Perhaps the mastermind's headquarters was near the old fort. H was partially up a draw when a feeling of uneasiness came over him. Too late! A shot rang out that tugged at the brim of his hat. Bud swung his horse around to get out of there when another rifle opened up from below him!

The ranger was trapped!

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 19:59 EST

The ranger rolled off the side of his horse, slapping it on the rump to hasten its departure. Hagan leaped into a dry bed left from a flash flood. It was only a couple of feet deep, but for a man in his position it was a haven from the storm.

There was no searching fire, and he wasn't sure if the ambushers were waiting him out or they thought they had nailed him. He wasn't about to stick his head up and find out. Hagan waited twenty minutes before hearing the sounds of departing hooves.

Was it one horse or two' If he made a mistake now it would get him killed. It had sounded like just one to him, so he waited another half hour before moving.

When he did move it was just to inch his way up the dry streambed. His progress was painfully slow, but such was the price of safety. When he reached the shadow of a small rock he inched his head up over the rim to look for sign of a pursuer.

It took Hagan a second to make him out, for the man in back of him was dressed in tan clothing and blended into the scenery like so much more sand. His dress along with his careful movements gave out the fact that he must be a skilled hunter. And the ranger was the hunted!

"Not for long," Bud said to himself. He took his time, for he wanted to capture his hunter and question him. He saw now that the fellow was wearing buckskins. When he came to where the ranger had jumped for cover he took a quick look up the hill and then dove into the streambed. There was a bend forty yards below Hagan, so he couldn't see what the other fellow was doing.

The ranger stuck to his present position to make sure the hunter didn't leave the ditch. More waiting, and then the sound of a dislodged rock came to his ear. So, the man was following him. Hagan pulled out his Peacemaker and waited.

Bud Hagan now faced a dilemma. The odds on capturing the man unharmed were getting slimmer. He decided the best bet was to wait until the guy came around the bend and holler that he had the drop on him.

Any second now. Yes, there came the brim of his hat!

The ranger caught himself just before he made a greenhorn's mistake. The buckskinner was pushing his hat ahead of him around the bend, hoping to draw the other's fire. Hagan still waited. In a minute a swarthy face followed the hat, and the ranger's voice rang out.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:00 EST

"Hold it right there. This is Arizona Ranger Hagan. I want to..."

Two fast gunshots cut short his speech, and he cocked his forty-five and drove a shot down the streambed. It hit the buckskinned one in the chest and the man's head slumped down to the ground. There was still a pistol in his hand, though, and Hagan was very careful as he made his approach.

I was well that he was, for that hand came up and they both fired simultaneously. The other man's shot went flying up the hillside. The ranger's bullet broke the outlaw's wrist. He was now safe to approach.

Hagan found the man to be gravely wounded. He plugged his chest wound as best he could. The man was still alert, so the ranger asked him, "Who is behind all this" Is it Ringo?"

"You'll never learn anything from me. I just wish I could be there when you see the beast," and with that he shuddered and was quiet. Hagan felt his neck, but there was no pulse. The man was dead.

When he saw the beast. Had the man really thought Hagan would be afraid of what was probably a horse costume? Or was he just referring to the old mountain man's term of seeing the elephant' He would find out sooner or later. No sense to worry about it now.

The pockets of the buckskins were devoid of any identification. The only thing of value was the pistol that the man had carried. At first glance it looked like a Smith and Wesson Russian model, but closer inspection showed it to be a Belgium copy in 44-40 caliber. It had seen a lot of use.

Finding a deeply cut bank, the ranger dragged the body into it and covered it over with rocks and sand. He hoped that the coyotes would leave it alone.

The ranger started walking in the direction that his roan had taken. The horse was not a very skittish animal and Bud hoped he would be waiting just out of sight. Walking in the sand was difficult for his feet slipped a little with every step he took. "Should have taught him to come to a whistle," he thought.

When he finally came up to him the horse had stopped at a pool of water to drink and munch the grass that grew at the edge of the hole. Hagan put the 44-40 in a saddlebag and mounted up. He decided to keep on heading west. Maybe he would stumble upon something.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:00 EST

The last time he was through here he had noticed a prospector's cabin on the opposite shoulder of a canyon. He hadn't gone over on that day because he wasn't looking for anything in particular. He remembered it to be about ten miles from his position, but it turned out to be only half that distance. He had gained a lot of elevation, and there were a lot of thickets that looked like they would harbor deer and cottontails.

When he reached the cabin he stayed in a fringe of pinion pine and hollered, "Hello the house."

A woman's voice answered, "Hello, yourself. I'm not alone here, if that's what you're thinking. I've got Betsy to keep me company. Come on up."

Hagan walked his horse up to the fallen oak that served as a hitching post. "I take it that shotgun is Betsy."

The woman was holding a twelve gauge double, and she didn't look like she was having any trouble holding it up.

"That's right, Betsy Greener, if you want her full name. I'm Sarah. You can light and sit, if you want. I can give you a little grub, but that's all you're getting from me."

"I won't bother you, Sarah, but I would like a little information."

This made her stop and look closely at him. "What's that badge you're wearing" What kind of a lawman are you?"

"My name is Bud Hagan, and I'm an Arizona Ranger."

"Arizona Ranger" I never heard of such a thing. What are you trying to pull, anyway?"

"Ma'am, I assure you, I am an Arizona Ranger. A lot of people haven't heard of us, but you can be sure that we are real. You've heard of the Texas Rangers, haven't you? It's the same idea."

She stared at him again. He realized that she was near sighted. If her vision was that bad, how did she hunt for her food" He had the feeling that this was no time to be asking personal questions.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:01 EST

She served him a cup of coffee that had the unmistakable taste of acorns in it. There was no disguising that flavor. A lot of people used the oak nuts to stretch their coffee, but Hagan preferred chicory for the same usage. He savored it, though, telling her how good it tasted.

She smiled at this and went about dishing him up some stew. This really was good but he couldn't quite figure what the main ingredient was. It wasn't beef or venison. When she gave him a second serving he just had to ask.

`"Sarah, I've had just about everything in this neck of the woods that there is to eat, but I don't recognize this. It's simply delicious. What is it?"

She gave him a sly sideways glance. "Mountain lion. That old cat was coming around here trying to get my chickens, but now I'm eating him." She cackled like it was the funniest joke she had ever heard. Hagan realized that company must be very rare for her and she was enjoying his visit.

"I have heard that the old mountain men ate them, but I never tried one before this. It's delicious."

"You bet. I know a lot of things that people don't suspect. There's a lot goes on in the night." As she said this she gave him a sly sideways glance, and an alarm went off in his head. Somehow, something about her just wasn't right.

"What kinds of things, Sarah"'

"I see a lot when I go down to he desert. I walk down there when the moon is full. I see riders coming and going to Mexico, and I've seen the devil's monster."

There it was again! Why did people immediately think they had seen a monster when there were many more logical explanations" He didn't want to scare her off track so he said simply, "Aren't you afraid to go down there by yourself, Sarah' Even with Betsy?"

"No, I'm at home in the wild. I lived with the Apaches, you know. They taught me how to live outdoors."

"Did they capture you?"

"Yes, I wandered out from a wagon train and they grabbed me. I was ten years old. I don't know how old I am now. I had to marry an Apache warrior, but he was killed in a battle with the Mexicans. I claimed grief after that and they let me be. Then I started to act crazy. After a while I got pretty good at it. Maybe too good." She cackled again.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:02 EST

"After a while they let me wander off, and I found this place. The Indians won't harm a crazy person; I'm not sure why. Anyway, they don't bother me any, and sometimes I see one peaking at me from the other rim, just keeping track of me, I guess."

"Would you like to back and live with people in a town?"

"NO! I want to stay here. I'm safe and I don't need anything. Sometimes a quarter of deer or elk appears in the yard and I know it's the Apaches that left it. I want to stay here."

"Sure, that's fine, Sarah, you can stay here. It's a pretty spot. It must be real nice in the moonlight."

She looked at him sharply. "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, boy," thought Hagan. "She's really gone." To her he said, "Why, you just told me you like to walk in the desert in the moonlight, Sarah."

"Oh, yeah, I guess I did. I forget sometimes. Did I tell you about the nightriders on the desert' Americans trying to steal Mexican silver and Mexicans trying to steal American cattle. Everyone running around for nothing."

"The cattle are heading south?"

"They always used to be. Now they could be going anywhere. Sometimes they head west past this canyon. Sometimes they head north to the mines. I don't know what?s going on now."

"What about the monster, Sarah' Do you know where it goes?"

"No, it might show up anywhere. It used to be alone, but now it has men riding with it."

"What is the reason for that' Any ideas?"

"I think the men feed it. They are scared of it when it roars and they go and get whatever it wants for food."

"What does it eat?"

"I think it eats beef. The men go out and gather up cattle for it." Then she leaned over to him so that he would be sure to hear, "I've seen it, and I know what it is."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:03 EST

The ranger barely dared to breathe. This strange woman might hold the answer. "So what is it, Sarah?"

"It's a big seal."

"It's a WHAT?"

"If you heard it you would believe me. I don't know how it survives here, but it does."

"Sarah, a seal has to live in the water. It can't live on the desert."

"Why' They breathe the air, don't they' And they can walk on their flippers. I tell you, the creature is a seal. Maybe he is a new species."

"One that eats beef?" asked the incredulous ranger. He had gathered that she was a little off, but now he revised that belief. Sarah was downright nuts. It was time to go.

She saw that he was going to go. "Be careful out there, ranger. Watch out for Lost Canyon. The Indians avoid it, and I think it's because the creature lives there. Stop by when you come back this way."

"Thank you, Sarah. I will. Is there anything I can bring you?"

"No, the Indians bring me everything I need. Watch out for them, too. You've got a nice scalp."

"Thanks, I guess. See ya."

As he rode off it occurred to him what was missing. She said that cat was after her chickens. He hadn't seen a trace of a bird around the place.

Hagan was getting nowhere fast. Crazy women and creatures of the devil were not in his normal line of work. Lost Canyon! As far as anyone knew for sure that place was just imaginary. It was supposed to have a year round supply of water, and was frequented by desert bighorn sheep, pumas and small Sonoran whitetail deer.

It sounded like an idyllic place, but to the best of his knowledge it didn't exist. The mountain men and then the ranchers had been here for over fifty years, and they hadn't seen it. The Spaniards had frequented this area for the last three hundred, and while their lore of lost places was rich they didn't know of its whereabouts, either.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:04 EST

A mythical creature in a valley that didn't exist. It was the perfect match.

No sense looking for that. The outlaws he looked for must congregate somewhere. It was the nature of the beast. In general outlaws liked to gather in some saloon and spend their ill-gotten gains as rapidly as possible. The town of Sierra Vista was the most likely place Hagan could think of for such frolicking.

Marshal Wes Smith kept Sierra Vista walking the straight and narrow. He was a good man that Hagan had met before. Smith only concerned himself with what happened in his town, though. No matter what a strange rider was reputed to have done, once in Sierra Vista Smith only asked for peace and quiet. If trouble occurred the marshal was well prepared to handle it. A veteran of the War Between the States, he had since fought Apaches and outlaws on a pretty much full time basis. It would take quite a bit to surprise him.

Not a soul was stirring as the ranger rode down the dusty street and hitched the roan in front of the jail- house. The marshal was stretched out in his chair with his feet up on his desk. Hagan looked at him for a minute, then slowly picked up a shotgun off the wall rack.

"I heard you coming when you were half-way from Tombstone," said Marshal Smith. "But if you're looking for a shotgun that's a good one to take. It's an eight gauge and I couldn't tell you where you might buy some shells for it."

"You should try to calm down, Wes, you're just a bundle of nerves."

The marshal now stood up and proffered his hand. "How are you Bud? I haven't seen you since we chased Sancho three years ago."

"That's right, it has been a while, hasn't it. If we hadn't have run down that Mexican when we did I think I might have given up the law and became a gambler."

"What' You can't even play Slap Jacks without losing your shirt."

"Yeah, I know. It's a good thing we caught that Mexican."

"There will be more of them. There's always a new outlaw south of the border and usually they come over here for easy pickings. The Mexican pack trains carry a lot more valuables, but they have a lot more guards, too. Around here we put ore on a stage and send it out with one man riding shotgun. No wonder they come up and try their luck."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:04 EST

"But look at the men we use for shotgun, Wes. One of our gunfighters is as good as a squad of half trained soldiers."

"He is here, because his reputation is known. A lot of Sonoran outlaws don't know about those reputations."

"They learn about them fast, or they die. Of course, they did get Jack Halloway last month."

"And six months ago it was Tom Kerrigan," added the marshal. "I would hate to be a shotgun rider."

"Yeah, right, you prefer to face down an ugly crew while standing in the middle of the street."

Smith had to grin, "Nobody said being a lawman would be easy."

"Or safe. How about showing me some hospitality and buying my breakfast?"

"I might have known. The first time an Arizona Ranger shows up in town in three years, and I have to spring for his food."

While they walked down to the Last Chance saloon the marshal filled Hagan in on the troubles of the town.

"I'm on the lookout for three Twombly brothers," he confided. "I caught their brother Luke when he was high tailing town with the loot he had taken when he robbed a gambler. He wasn't killed in the shootout, but I wounded him good enough to take the starch out. Now he's doing fifteen years in Yuma and his brothers blame me for it. Like I took him by the hand and made him pistol-whip that gambler. Anyway, I heard through the grape vine that the other brothers wouldn't have been half so mad it I had killed him. They figure it's inhuman to send a man to Yuma. Come to think of it, they may be right."

"I did hear the devil gave up Yuma because it was too hot," said Hagan. "And speaking of the devil, have I got a story for you." With that he told Marshal Smith the story of the robberies on the desert and the strange creature that people claimed they had seen and heard.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:05 EST

"That, my friend, is one strange story," put in the marshal. "There must be something to it if more than one witness said the same thing. Perhaps you're right when you say it's two men in a horse costume. That would be an eerie sight in the moonlight."

"Have you seen anybody that seemed like a good candidate for the rear end of a horse" No, never mind, the saloons are full of them."

"You've got that right. I'm going back to wait in my office."

"They are coming, then" I'll try to be close by to lend a hand," offered the ranger.

"Thanks, I just might need it."

Bud Hagan went down the street to another saloon and sat at the bar. This was the best way that he knew of to pick up information. The man that could just sit and listen heard a lot more than one that was talking and asking questions. The ranger grinned to himself. Maybe that was just his excuse for being lazy.

When the bartender came over Hagan ordered a whiskey. The ranger didn't drink much, and he could sip on that drink slowly enough that it could last two or three hours. It was only ordered so that he would blend in with the rest of the patrons.

One of the tables was engaged in a serious game of stud poker and only necessary calls for cards came from that direction. Down the bar a couple of old timers talked about the possibility of another big mining strike waiting to be found in this area.

The ranger's interest picked up when a band of three riders hitched their horses out at the rail and walked up to the bar. Each one rode a better cayuse than a regular cowboy could afford on ranch hand wages. That was the first reason to look them over twice.

The second was that they were obviously gunmen that were always ready for trouble. Their weapons were always ready, and the men sat at the corner of the bar. In this manner one could watch the rear door and the other two the front. This was not spur of the moment - this was an ingrained action.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:06 EST

Each of the men checked Hagan out in the back bar mirror but there was no recognition. He had slouched forward so that his vest would cover up the Arizona Ranger's badge. To the casual glance he looked like a tired man having a drink after a long ride.

Once they had drinks in their hands the men started to talk. "Did you ever think it would go that smooth?" asked the blond headed man that watched the rear.

"Easy with what you say," commanded the tall man in the center, who must have been the leader.

"Ah, don't sweat it, Ed. There's nobody in this room who cares what we do. Or in this town, for that matter, as long as we don't have any fights here."

"I guess you're right. I'll never figure Wes Smith out. They say he won't even bother a man with a price on his head, but I know for a fact that he's hell on wheels with a six-gun."

"That is a blessing for men such as ourselves. All living things need occasional shelter from the storm." This was from the well-dressed man closest to the rear entrance. He sounded like a more refined fellow than the other two.

It hit the ranger a second later. This must be English Dan! He was one of the lesser know legends of the west. As a lad in England he had engaged in one too many duels, for that method of settling disputes had been banned some years before. Therefore he was remitted off to America with his clothes and enough money to finish his education.

Whether Dan had done this or not was anybody's guess, but he did discover that he was a good gambler. When on a Mississippi riverboat he also discovered that dueling was still practiced here, although in a very different form. Being naturally adept, he practiced daily and succeeded in becoming a very dangerous man.

He did hunt trouble, and not many men cared to keep him company. The fact that these men were with him showed their caliber.

"However, there has scarcely been a storm to take shelter from. I know this was supposed to be a foolproof plan, but rarely do such operations succeed so admirably.

In fact, this step of my career has become filled with ennui. Perhaps it is time for a change."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:06 EST

"Dan, you're bloodthirsty." This was the tall leader speaking. "For once in your life you're in on the perfect crime, and you complain because you can't plant some poor soul on Boot Hill."

"Let's get on with our drinking and forget about shooting," said the towhead. "What's the use of sitting out there in the desert if we don't have a good time with the loot' King paid us well, and I aim to burn up some of my share." With that he motioned for another round of drinks. He waved down the bar and included Hagan in his generosity.

When the ranger turned to nod his thanks his vest opened up. The eyes of all three outlaws were on his star!

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:11 EST

The ranger had once spent some time with a partner that hailed from Vermont, and he had often used the expression, "Between a rock and a hard place." Hagan had just learned what that saying meant.

The tall leader spoke up. "You looking for somebody?"

"Nope. Wes has his own rules, and I abide by them," replied the ranger. "Your friend is right - this is neutral territory."

English Dan thought he saw his opening. "Is that the correct situation, or do you have a case of poor circulation' That is to say, an attack of cold feet."

"Don't you worry, Dan, I know how to warm them up." He turned slightly so that his right side was free to draw. English Dan was behind the end of the bar. He would have to go through some gymnastics to get his pistol into action. The ranger followed up on his advantage.

"What do you think, Dan' I'm willing to break the marshal's rule if you are. Is this a good time?"

"No, no, I meant nothing. Another time and place will arise, I'm sure."

"One that's more to your liking, hey, Dan' Well, listen up. You're not good enough, and you never will be."

"That prediction may well prove to be wrong. In the meantime, enjoy your drink."

"Thanks, I will." Hagan turned back to the bar and let the others talk amongst themselves. Their conversation slipped totally away from crime after seeing him and he knew he was now wasting his time. The clatter of horses running into town disrupted the relative calm of the saloon.

Three men, and they hitched their horses at three points of the compass from the front of the jail. They must be the Twombly brothers!

Hagan responded quickly. Turning to the three outlaws down the bar he said, "Drop 'em, and move to the other end of the bar. Pronto!"

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:11 EST

"But what about..." started one of the men. The ranger gave them no time to talk.

"I don't want you men for anything, but I want you to stay out of this fray. You stand at that end of the bar and everything will be hunky dory. If you move I'll take that as a sign you are getting involved, and I will shoot you. Savvy?"

With that he stepped to the batwing doors and looked out. The Twomblys were spread out. One was directly in front of the jail. The other two were thirty yards out on either side. Talk about a crossfire!

Now the leader spoke up. "Hey, Marshal, come out. We're the Twombly brothers and we have a bone to pick with you."

Wes Smith stepped into the doorway of the jailhouse. "What do you want' I caught your brother red handed and it's a wonder he isn't dead right now. I can't see where you have any beef."

"Then you're blind. You sent him to Yuma. That's worse than death. We should stake you out somewhere in the sun. Instead we're just going to kill you."

"Might be I've got something to say about that," responded the brave marshal. As he stepped forward the other three men visibly tensed, ready for action.

"Take the one to you left, Wes," spoke the Arizona Ranger. "The other two are mine." A noticeable hush fell over the street.

The man Hagan was in back of became nervous, looking over his shoulder and then to the front. The one farthest away could see him anyway and probably figured that he was out of range. The one facing the marshal stood his ground. It was obvious he was going to finish his job no matter what the outcome.

In a split second he drew and shot. The marshal's Colt instantly roared back and that Twombly lay face down in the street. The one closest to the ranger turned and started to draw, but Hagan's forty-five slug broke his shoulder before he could finish. The far one shot at the marshal, and both lawmen shot at him. The impact of the big bullets spun him around and sent him crashing to the ground like a freshly cut tree.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:12 EST

The ranger rushed over and removed the revolver from the holster of the man he had wounded. The middle brother was starting to stir, and Hagan was surprised to find that the marshal's bullet had merely grazed his skull. He had just been knocked out for a while, and the ranger was quick to put the handcuffs on him.

The third brother was dead as Atlantis. When Hagan glanced up at the marshal he was surprised to see a spreading stain of blood on his shirt.

"How bad are you hit, Wes?"

"I'm hit pretty good. I'd better head for the Doc's. Wrap things up for me, will you?"

The marshal hadn't taken more than two steps when he collapsed to the ground. Hagan hollered for help and was soon surrounded by townspeople. They gently carried Wes Smith to the doctor's office for treatment. Others watched over the wounded man in the street until his turn came up.

The ranger took the Twombly brother with the grazed head into the jail and locked him in a cell. Apart from a headache the man was okay. His wound certainly didn't affect his mouth.

"You are going to be sorry about this, Ranger. I'm going to get out and you will get yours."

"When you get out of here you will be going to Yuma. Look at the bright side. You'll get to see your brother. Maybe then you'll have the time to see the error of your ways."

You're funny, you are. Well, listen to this. It's a long way to Yuma." Once again Twombly uttered his threat, "You'll get yours."

Hagan shook his head in disgust. Some people were not just slow learners - they didn't learn at all. He headed out of the jail to see what he could find out about the marshal's condition.

The ranger stopped short on the boardwalk. Across the street on a bench in front of the saloon sat English Dan. He was obviously waiting for Hagan to appear. Had the man worked himself up to a pitch where he wanted to try to shoot the Arizona Ranger"

"You waiting for me, Dan?" inquired Hagan.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:13 EST

"No, I was just enjoying the show. It is the most excitement I have received in six months. Perhaps I should have followed a career in law enforcement."

"Instead of having the law following you?"

"I believe you said that you were not looking for us."

"That's right, Dan. Not yet, anyway."

"That is just as well. You are quite good, but I do believe I am just a tiny bit more rapid."

"Could be. I hope we never find out," said the ranger.

"Ah, that is where you and I differ. I quite look forward to the day when you and I shall meet in the street. A clash of the Titans, one might say."

"You are a strange man, English Dan."

"So I have been told. Good day."

The ranger breathed a sigh of relief when Dan turned and went back into the saloon. Hagan wasn't afraid of him, not by a long shot. It was just too soon after this recent shoot out to be going into a gunfight for no reason. Dan might have his own reasons, but to Bud it was just plain foolish.

He took a walk the long way around the street so as to check the brands on the three outlaw's horses. One never knew when such information might come in handy. All three steeds had different brands. Two were out of Texas and the other was unknown, but looked to be Spanish. Hagan filed them away in his memory.

At the doctor's office he was told that the marshal's condition was serious and to check back in the morning. With time to kill he went back to the marshal's office and thumbed through a stack of wanted posters. He expected to find one issued for English Dan but the man was absent from the wanted list. A moment's reflection told him the reason why. Dan was so bloodthirsty that there would be no witnesses left after his forays.

He would stay here tonight while he waited for news of the marshal; then decide on his next course of action. When he brought his prisoner an evening meal the man was surly and repeated his threat that it was a long way to Yuma.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:14 EST

The cot of Wes Smith was surprisingly comfortable and Hagan expected to get a good night's sleep. He was mistaken. Apparently Twombly did not feel the need for shuteye.

"Hey Ranger, you know what I'm going to do' These tables are going to turn; you wait and see. When they do I'm going to treat you the Indian way. I'm going to stake you out in the hot sun and tie your arms and legs with wet rawhide. As it dries it tightens up. You're going to find out what heat and pain are. Just you wait and see."

"Twombly, if you don't shut up I'm going to bend my gun barrel over the good side of your head. Now BE QUIET!"

This kept the piece for a while, but then Twombly was at it again. And so it went for the rest of the night. More threats and more admonitions, with the ranger catching only a few catnaps. When morning came he was in a surly mood.

"I'll ask the bartender across the way to bring you some breakfast. Whether or not he does I just don't care.

"You're not worth caring about."

He stopped in the saloon to order up some breakfast and to ask what had happened to the three outlaws that were here the previous evening.

"It was the funniest thing. I expected them to stay and get a load on or spend all their money. Usually the two go hand in hand. But along about ten o'clock the tall one told them to drink up - it was time to go. The other two began to argue, but then the leader said, 'Remember what King said,' and they left. Whoever this king is must have some power," said the expansive barkeep.

"Yes, he surely must have," replied the ranger thoughtfully. "Say, have you heard any stories of strange creatures in the desert, ones that people hear when they are being robbed?"

"Now that you mention it, there were a couple of Mexicans in here talking about some such thing. They were pretty far gone on tequila and I didn't pay the story any mind."

"Do me a favor, will you, and remember any such stories that you pick up. I don't believe there really is any creature out there, but there could well be one smart crook."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:15 EST

"Like this King, for instance?"

"It sure sounds that way. If you get a chance, could you send over some food to the prisoner in the jail" I'll pay for it if need be."

"No need. The town gives me a flat thirty cents per meal delivered. I can't complain."

With this chore done, he walked down to the doctor's office to check up on Wes. The doc was in good spirits when the ranger entered.

"I got the bullet out last night and the wound looks clean. He's going to pull through."

"That is great new, Doc. Wes was never one to lay around. He'll be up before we know it."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. The bullet passed very close to the aorta and I want it to have plenty of time to heal. He has got to rest for at least a month. Two would be better. The marshal is awake. Why don't you go in and try to make him understand."

"I'll see what I can do, but he is a stubborn man."

Marshal Smith was wide awake when the ranger entered, and was the first to speak.

"Bud, I have a favor to ask of you."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:16 EST

"You're quick on the draw this morning, Wes. You've got to take it easy."

"So the sawbones tells me. I think he's full of you know what, but I heard you fellows talking and I see he's got you convinced."

"Now, Wes, it's just common sense. You're lucky to be alive, and here you are complaining about taking a vacation."

"Vacation' It's not my idea of a vacation.

"However, it does leave me with a problem. Not a lot goes on in this town, but when it does it demands attention. I do have a part time deputy, but he is in St. Louis for his sister's wedding. I don't know when he'll be back. I need to find some coverage until I can get back on the job."

Bud let his eyes wander over the room. He knew what was coming, but darned if he was going to volunteer. Sure enough, Wes now spoke his piece.

"Bud, can you look after Sierra Vista for me while I'm laid up" You have no problem of jurisdiction, although I don't remember of a ranger running a town before. You won't have any problems. You know how I treat the riders that are passing through. I let 'em be as long as they behave. If they don't there's a sawed off ten gauge in the closet, and that one does have shells with it. But it will be your show - you can run it however you want to.

"The payroll for the Lucky Dollar does go through here on Fridays. If there should be a robbery attempt here in town, that would be it. It will pay you to keep an eye out for strangers on Thursdays and Fridays. That is, if you take the job."

Hagan was still hedging. He knew he would end up doing it; he just wanted a little more time to think. "How does the ore go out?"

"The original owners are the Rodriquez family in Mexico City. Somehow through the land grants and the American takeovers they managed to keep control of the mine. They pack the metals down to Mexico."

"Through the desert. Sounds like a cause for concern, what with the concentration of outlaws in that region. I've been thinking that there has to be a better reason for animal noises in the night than to scare a few punchers and steal a few head of beef."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:16 EST

"Perhaps somebody really does want to take over southern Arizona. This King, perhaps" Stranger things have happened."

"True enough. Okay, I'll stay, at least until your deputy comes back."

"Thanks, Bud, I owe you."

"No you don't. It's all line of duty."

The ranger walked down the main street and surveyed the make up of his temporarily adopted town. It was a blend of Spanish and American cultures rolled into a unique blend that spelled Arizona. Here a one room Mexican caf" made all kinds of delicacies rolled in tortilla shells. Beside it was the red and white striped pole which indicated the proprietor was a barber and a blood letter. Next door to a hall with a sign that just said "Saloon" was a Spanish shop that had a sign saying "Cerveza."

The storeowners nodded and said "Howdy," and an occasional Mexican girl in traditional dress looked coyly at him over her fan.

His town! Bud Hagan had often wondered what it would be like to be a marshal in just one town. His own years had been spent going wherever he was needed. He had never settled down for more that a week and here was a chance to get a taste of the other extreme.

The ranger took a tour of the stables and corrals around the little town. His memory was good, and he wanted to be able to spot strange horses if any should show up. He stopped at each saloon and store, not asking questions; just getting acquainted with the owners. If they like him he wouldn't have to pump them for information - they would be eager to help.

Hagan had company when he got back to the jailhouse. Three well dressed men were there to greet him.

"We understand you will be taking over the job of marshal while Wes Smith is recuperating. Did he say anything about compensation' Our town has a limited budget, and ....."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:27 EST

"I'm just doing this as a favor for Wes. As far as payment goes, I am an Arizona Ranger and Sierra Vista is a part of Arizona. No further wages will be necessary."

"Oh, well, I was just worried about the burden of taxation on the common men," said the apparent spokesman of the group. He was dressed in a black broadcloth suit despite the heat and had the air of a New England banker about him. "Frankly, I'm not sure that we need a replacement for Smith. We haven't had any trouble here to speak of in a long time. I don't see why that should change now."

Hagan was puzzled. This was certainly odd behavior for a town father. Well, he wasn't going to stand here and argue about it. He had given another lawman his word, and he was going to keep it.

"As I mentioned, I am an Arizona Ranger, and I have free rein anywhere I go in this territory. There is nothing to talk about, for I will be taking over for the marshal until he is ready to work again. Understood?"

"Oh, yes, of course, I was just looking at all the angles before committing the people to anything. I see that I was over zealous, and I apologize. Good day, I must return to work."

The two sternly dressed men left but the third man stayed. He was wearing a striped shirt and suspenders. He had the air of a working man about him. He was also polite and he extended his hand to shake.

'My names is Cody Wells and I'm the blacksmith in these parts. I joined the town council to make life here a little better, but I'm not too sure of my two departed friends. I sometimes wonder what their motives really are."

"I've got to admit that they made me feel as welcome as the typhoid," admitted the ranger. "I wonder why they are so dead set against my taking this job?"

"They could be covering up an illegal act and they're afraid you will find out."

"But what about Wes? Surely he would see as much or more that I would. Unless.......No, I don't know him that well, but I would stake my life on his honesty. He wouldn't be a part of anything shady."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:27 EST

"He has been here a long time. Maybe he's become so accustomed to the status quo that he doesn't know any crimes are being committed. That is, if there are any crimes. I've been jumping the gun, haven't I?"

"You should be a lawman. We all think that way. Tell me about the last two visitors. Are they as much fun as they act?"

"Even less than that. The spokesman is J.D.Jones. I don't believe I've ever heard what the J.D. stands for. He is the owner of the bank and also the mayor. The other one is Jim Calkins. He runs the general store, or at least he owns it. His wife and daughter seem to do the actual work there."

"Perhaps I should get better acquainted with their establishments. There must be something I need from the store, and I might even open up a small bank account."

"You might take a look at the loading dock while you're there. My place is just down the street, and I have noticed deliveries and shipments seem to be at odd times. Of course, there is probably a good reason for that. I just haven't picked up what it is."

Hagan grinned at Wells. "You don't miss too much, do you? Thanks for the tip."

The ranger entered a store that simply said "General Store" on the sign over the door. Behind the counter was a woman that must have been Mrs. Calkins. She had the look of someone who has bitten into a lemon and was surprised by it sour taste.

Bud put on his cheeriest smile. "Good morning, I'm Arizona Ranger Bud Hagan."

She cut him off with an actual sniff. "Oh, the ranger. Yes I've heard about you." From the way she said it he knew that she had heard nothing good.

"I see. Well, I could use some pistol primers."

"We don't sell them. Just loaded ammo. My husband says we wouldn't make any money if everyone loaded their own ammunition."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:28 EST

"I hadn't looked at it like that. All right, could I have a box of .45 Colt ammunition' And throw in three pair of socks too, please." He wanted to look out the back and spotted a display of boots near the rear door.

"I've got to think about buying a new pair of boots," he told the woman. "Mine are getting pretty run down at the heel."

The woman's ears picked up at this, for it might be a chance to make a sale. "You won't find any better ones," she offered. You can buy them cheaper but these are made by a man from Texas who is really good at it. You can't go wrong."

"I'm sure you're right. I get paid in two weeks and then maybe then I can buy a pair." Her interest waned at that news and she went over to help a woman buying a bolt of cloth.

The ranger was now free to look out the back. There was no fence. There was a visible row of wagon tracks heading straight out instead of around to the street. To the left was a faint path going to the rear of the back. A lot of business could be conducted back here without ever being seen from the street!

Hagan paid for his purchases and left. Now he went to the back and told the teller that he would like to make open an account. The teller told him that Mr. Jones was absent, but would be back tomorrow. Bud thanked him and went on his way.

That was odd. The ranger wondered what news would bring the banker to leave the building on a weekday morning. Bud took a walk down to the livery stable to check his mount. The liveryman was shoveling stalls, so Bud stopped to ask him if the banker had ridden out recently.

The ranger could immediately see that he had raised a red flag. The liveryman must have been cautioned to be on guard about any question concerning the banker.

"It's not my day to watch him," said the old man. He tried to put on an air of bravado but it fell short. "I just clean the place and mind my own business."

"Thanks, just asking." Hagan left and went back to his office. From the rear cell window he could see the back of the stable. Sure enough, in a few minutes the old-timer rode out of there like his tail was on fire.

The ranger went down to follow him but when he entered the livery he was in for a shock. His own horse was missing!

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:29 EST

Hagan looked inside and outside the livery, but his mount was nowhere to be seen. Finally he found the side door that had been left ajar. That was a convenient mistake for somebody, and it wasn't hard to figure whom. Looking around the street and in back of the stores brought no results, so he went back to the office to wait.

Sure enough, by mid-afternoon the oldster from the livery stable rode up with the ranger's horse in tow.

"Found him about three miles out of town. Don't know how he got loose. Must have been kids fooling around."

There wasn't much that Hagan could say. He knew that the man had driven his mount out those three miles, but to the passer by the old timer had done him a big favor. He decided to play that angle to the hilt.

"Why thanks, I'm sure glad to have that horse back. It's darned poor country to do much walking. Come on in. There must be something I can do to thank you."

"No, no, that's okay. You'd do the same for me." It was easy to see that the oldster wanted nothing to do with any jailhouse.

?"Sure I would, but that's my job. You took it a step further and helped me out of the goodness of your heart. Tell you what, if you don't want to come in and sit here we'll go to the caf? and get a good meal. I haven't eaten since breakfast and my gut is starting to complain. "

The ranger took a firm grip on the old man's elbow so that he had to go along with him. From a distance it would look like they were best friends walking arm in arm. Sure enough, the white of a face showed in the window of the general store. By nightfall everyone in town would know about it.

"So, my new found friend, what?s your name, anyway' I don't believe I caught it before."

"It's Elijah, but most folks just call me Oats."

"Well, then, Oats it is. You can call me Bud. Looks like there's plenty of room. Let's take this table right here in the front."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:29 EST

Hagan deposited the man at a chair right in the window, for he was still steering him by his elbow. "Looks like the menu is just the same as yesterday. Beef and beans. Well, I never get tired of those, as long as biscuits come with them. How about a cup of coffee?"

Now Oats had been dreaming of a beer for the last two hours, but the ranger had him nervous and he didn't dare speak up. "Sure, I guess so. Kind of hot for it, though.?"Cools you off better. At least that's what the dirt farmers say. Do you know this country very well, Oats?"

"Oh, sure, I've been here for years. Used to do some prospecting before I took this job."

"Ever hear of Lost Canyon?" Hagan was watching the man closely. He saw a flash of recognition and of fear in the man's eyes. So, the place did exist!

Oats tried to smooth it over. "I've heard the stories. I don't believe 'em."

"Strange things happen in the desert. I've even heard stories of some strange creature being seen out there. Some people have vivid imaginations."

Now the hostler showed a look of smugness. "Yeah, they sure do. A lot of them are downright stupid."

"I agree, but what makes you say that' "

"Well, I mean, er, look at all the stories you hear. I heard J...I mean, Jim say that superstition rules the desert. He had a point."

Hagan kept watching him closely. The man had started to say J.D., of that he was sure. Bud asked him some more questions, but the stable man had now clammed up because he knew he had let on too much all ready.

Hagan walked out onto the boardwalk with his guest. As he had expected, up the street the storeowner was in front of his place, ostensibly sweeping off the walk but really watching the unlikely couple in the caf". As soon as the banker returned he was sure to have this story handed to him.

As the ranger watched Oats walk away it occurred to him that he had not heard his prisoner for hours. Previously Twombly had making such a racket that you could hear him all the way to the end of town. Hagan spun on his heal and headed quickly for the jail. It was well that he did, for he found the man working diligently on removing a second bar from the window.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:30 EST

"Going somewhere, Twombly?" Hagan had crept in so silently that the prisoner hadn't heard him enter. He just about jumped out of his skin.

"You're a smart guy, ain't you? " said the uncouth Twombly. "You wait and see. It's like I told ya, it's a long way to Yuma."

Hagan checked another cell and found the bars to be more secure. Then, handcuffing Twombly so that there was no chance for escape, he transferred the prisoner to new quarters. As a safeguard he left the handcuffs in place.

"I can't do anything with these cuffs on," whined Twombly.

"That's the general idea," answered his jailer.

The ranger needed that deputy back. One man could not watch a prisoner and do his duties as well. He went over to the doctor's house to see Marshal Smith.

"So, Bud, how are you doing on your first day' Have they got you buffaloed yet?"

"Nope," Bud smiled, "but I sure could use that deputy back." He told the story of Twombly almost busting out. "When does the circuit judge come through, anyway' I'll be glad to have an empty jail."

"He should be in Tombstone next Tuesday. He'll stay there for a day or two, depending on how many cases there are."

"Tombstone? I thought he came here."

"No such luck. You will have to move the prisoner over there. Maybe you can pick up a different deputy for the trip."

"I'm not worried about the trip. I just don't like leaving the town unprotected while I'm gone. There seem to be some strange goings on."

If such a statement bothered Wes Smith he didn't show it. "Are you telling me I missed something" The big J.D. and associates" That backer is involved with more than loans. There's no question about that. But I haven't been able to find him engaged in anything illegal. Yet. Maybe you will have better luck."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:31 EST

Inwardly the ranger breathed a sigh of relief. He had been afraid that Smith was involved. in some shady dealing. He should have known better, he thought to himself. "What were you able to figure out?"

"Not much. I figure that J.D. is financing some shady deals, probably buying illegally into government contracts for mining and for feeding the Indian reservations. That's the only thing I can figure."

"You are probably right. I'd like to get a look into his books. "

"Watch out if you do. If he should catch you in there after hours he'd shoot you, and I doubt if a jury in this territory would convict him. Arizona Ranger or not, you would be in a heap of trouble."

Hagan smiled. "I'm not that anxious to get shot. But I might go in tomorrow and open a savings account. You ever know what I might see in there."

"Good luck, Bud. You'll need it."

The night was a repeat performance of the last one, with the prisoner threatening and whining off and on through the wee hours. The ranger periodically arose and made threats but Twombly did not seem to take them seriously. He knew that Hagan wouldn't hurt an unarmed man.

Bud had three cups of coffee and took a walk around the main street before he felt human. Then he returned to his office, shaved, and put on his best clothes. He wanted to present a good appearance at the bank.

Just after opening time he went back to the bank and presented himself again to the teller. This time he was met with fawning courtesy. Why the change" It must be because of his lunch with Oats. These people didn't know what to expect now.

"Good morning, Ranger. Mr. Jones is in this morning, and he will be happy to see you."

He was led to an office in the rear, where J.D. himself met him.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:31 EST

"Good morning, Mr. Hagan. Sorry about that business yesterday; I was just trying to protect the money of the taxpayers." The ranger almost broke into laughter. This fellow wouldn't be happy until he had the taxpayer's money in his pockets. He managed to keep a straight face.

"I quite understand. I am interested in depositing some money in your bank. Naturally I would like to see that it remains safe."

"To be sure. Our bank is one of the safest in the territory. We have never been robbed."

"Could I inspect your vault' I will only take a minute."

J.D. Jones looked at him carefully. The ranger did not look like a wealthy man, but in the West you never knew. A lot of men out here made their fortunes and it didn't change their style of dress one iota. Since this man was a lawman perhaps he was open to accepting money for favoritism. It was worth remembering. He got up and led Hagan to the vault.

He made sure the ranger did not see the combination as he unlocked it, and then he stood to the side and motioned the other in. Hagan stood in the center and took a look around. He was startled to see Jones now had a sawed off shotgun in his hands.

"Locks are good, but I like a good line of defense," said the banker. "This scattergun could clean out this place in a hurry."

"Amen to that. What is that, a Purdy?" The shotgun was engraved and inlaid with silver filigrees. The side locks were detachable. Why someone would cut back the barrels on such a beautiful gun Bud didn't know.

"No, but you're close. It was made by Joseph Manton. The ends of the barrels were mashed in a train wreck, so I bought it and use it for a sweeper."

As the man talked Hagan surveyed the vault. Some unmarked ore sacks were stacked along one side of the room. Jones saw the direction of his gaze.

"I store some metal for the small miners, and o course I buy it myself when the price is advantageous. For a small bank we do a lot of business."

"So I can see. All right, I'll open an account."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:32 EST

"Very good, have a seat here in the office while I get the papers."

Hagan was alone, but he only had a few moments to himself. He quickly shuffled what papers that he could reach. One dealt with a herd of beef critters bought from a party in Sonora and resold to the government for reservation use. The agent in charge of the operation was Jones. Talk about a license to steal!

"Here we are, Mr. Hagan. Now, before we fill this out, are you looking for any work on the side" Something, er, different from your usual line?"

"I am always open to suggestions," said the ranger. "After I transport my prisoner to Tombstone next week my venue is wide open."

"Very good, we will talk then. Now, how much do you wish to put in the bank today?"

"Twenty three dollars."

"Twenty three dollars! I thought you were talking about thousands."

"On a ranger's salary' I figure I'm lucky to have the twenty three."

"I see." The banker looked like a kid who dropped his candy down an ant hole. "I'll have the teller fix you up with a savings book."

The ranger put on his best smile. "Thank you so much for your help, Mr. Jones. I now feel that my money will be safe tonight."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:32 EST

The ranger was feeling quite pleased with himself as he walked down the street. For only being on the job for one day he felt he had made a lot of progress. As he passed the blacksmith shop an idea came to him. Cody Wells had struck him as an upright man who was interested in assisting the law. Perhaps he would work odd hours as a deputy.

"Why sure, Ranger," Cody responded when Hagan presented the idea. "I was going to ask if you could use a hand."

"That's great, Cody, I've got to take Twombly to Tombstone in a couple of days and I didn't want to leave the town alone." He told him about the nights in the jail with the prisoner making a racket.

"I'll stay the nights with him," volunteered the blacksmith. "I'm not married, so it won't make any difference."

"Thanks, Cody, I owe you one."

With Cody to watch the prisoner when Hagan was away the ranger had greater freedom of movement. On the weekend the crowds were boisterous but for the most part harmless. Some local ranch hands did have a run in with some Mexican punchers. Hagan was able to nip this in the bud. He finally picked the most warlike spokesman from both sides and hauled them off to jail. Both men were full of threats about what they would do to him but these words he ignored. They were both liquored up and such empty talk was to be expected.

The local man was asleep as soon as he found the bunk in his cell. The Mexican kept up with his threats, though, telling the ranger that he had better watch out when he met the monster of the desert.

The odd thing was that the man did not seem to be afraid when he said it. Other vaqueros had said such thing with a superstitious look over their shoulders, perhaps crossing themselves when they mentioned the creature. This man was not like that. The ranger was sure that this Mexican knew some of the answers. Since the new prisoner showed no signs of going to sleep Hagan decided to go into his cell and interrogate him.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:33 EST

"Bud, are you sure you know what you're doing?" asked a worried Deputy Wells.

"Nope. If I did I'd be a successful rancher or maybe a blacksmith. But I am quite a bit bigger than he is."

"If he should have a knife on him he might shorten you up."

Hagan took off his gun belt and hung it on a hook. "I've always got a few secrets, myself," he said, and he showed the deputy the double derringer he had in a hidden holster under his belt.

When the ranger entered the cell the Mexican looked up in surprise. He wasn't sure what was coming, but he was sure it wouldn't be good.

"Tell me of this creature, Senor," commanded the ranger. "You do not seem to be afraid when it is mentioned.

"I am Ramone. I fear nothing," responded the proud Mexican.

That name rang a bell with the ranger. If his memory was correct then the man in the cell with him was an outlaw wanted in two Mexican states. Hagan had nothing concrete, though, so he knew he could not hold him.

"One does not fear what one knows. You know all about this creature of the night, don't you, Ramone?"

The Mexican started to speak but stopped himself just in time. This Arizona Ranger was smarter than he looked. He knew there was something fishy about the story. This man should be stopped, thought Ramone.

"You must spend some time in the desert, Ramone. I've been looking for an old friend of mine named Johnny Ringo. Have you run into him anywhere?"

The man from Sonora looked at the ranger closely to see if he was joking. There was no way that this lawman was a friend to Ringo. What would his next request be? His help in stealing the silver from a church'

"I know of no one with the name of Ringo."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:34 EST

"Oh well, I just thought I'd ask. How about King" Have you seen him lately?"

How could this ranger know these things? It was downright spooky. He couldn't be sure of these things. He must be just guessing, hoping that an unguarded answer would tell him more of the story. This ranger must die!

"You know nothing. You are just guessing. I wish I could be there when you face the beast. You would be shaking like a little girl. But you will not get the chance. Now you must die!"

With that he slipped a knife from his boot and held it over his head, ready to stab the ranger!

The click of the hammer cocking on the Remington .41 derringer stopped his arm in mid-air. "You don't have a chance, Ramone. Drop the knife or you will meet your ancestors."

The Mexican did as he was told. One look into the ranger's eyes told him that he would do just what he said he would. Ramone was surprised to feel himself start to shake as the reaction set in. That had been close!

"Ramone, I am going to let you sleep on it. I had every right to shoot you, but I didn't. I try to do the right thing. I must find out more of the desert robberies. Think about it, and tell me more in the morning."

Back in the office Hagan told Cody of what had occurred. "He knows that I would have been within my rights to shoot him. Perhaps some sense of gratitude will set in and he will tell me some answers."

"You took a big chance. I hope it pays off."

"I guess we'll see in the morning."

They were wrong. Morning just brought the grisly sight of the Mexican's body sprawled across his bunk. Day was just breaking when the roar of a shotgun ruined the tranquil silence. The two lawmen rushed into the cellblock to find that the Mexican had died instantly from a load of buckshot. There would be no fresh information this morning.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:34 EST

One small set of boot prints came up the back alley to the window at the rear of the cell. From there they went directly to the rail where the Mexican horses had been hitched. The group must have been rustlers and been worried that Ramone would spill the beans on the operation.

Hagan and Wells carried the body to the undertakers and then the ranger started to trail the remaining Mexicans. He could not devote too much time to it, but he was in hopes on at least finding a definite course to an outlaw headquarters. As usual, they split up when they headed south out of town.

"Well of course they headed south," thought the ranger, "they are from Mexico." The tracks came back together about ten miles out of town and headed straight for the border. All except for one set that headed east. Could this be a messenger? One that would carry the news of last night's fiasco' Perhaps he could find out.

Hagan rode in an S pattern, crossing the track once in a while to make sure he was still heading in the right direction. Up ahead the walls of a canyon narrowed in. He wasn't about to ride right up the middle. He cut directly north in case anybody was watching. In a thick stand of scrub oak he left his mount and walked a mile on foot, easing up cautiously to the edge of the canyon trail.

He had watch for five minutes before he spotted the watcher. Only the motion of the man rolling a cigarette gave away his position. As his eyes adjusted he could see that this was another Mexican, dressed in tan clothing and sporting a very battered sombrero.

Hagan backed up through the brush, but his foot hit a small rock and sent it clattering against another. Instantly the Mexican's Winchester was spouting lead, fanning the area in which the ranger was trapped. Branches fell on his head and bark and rock chips sprinkled him, but so far he was not hit.

When a lapse in the shooting came he eased himself further to the rear. Another half dozen shots sprayed the area. Hagan found shelter behind some large rocks and moved to his left. He was still heading to the top of the canyon when voices came to his ear.

"Did you get him' It sounded like you were standing off an army."

"I'm not sure, Senor. I loaded my rifle twice and I never had any return fire."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:35 EST

"That's the trouble with you guys. Give you a '66 Winchester and you'll shoot all day without aiming. I ought to give you just one bullet and then maybe you'd hit something. Do you know who the fellow was?"

"No, but I thought I saw the glint of the sun on a star. He might have followed Pico from Sierra Vista."

"A lawman! Why didn't you come up and tell me as soon as you knew he was trailing" Never mind, I can't stand any more stupid answers."

Now the voice started to give orders. Somewhere the ranger had heard that voice before.

"Slim and Billy, you fellows get ready to set the brush on fire. The rest of you harness up and head the outfit for the back door. Move it!"

The back door. That must be a pass at the very top of the canyon. In minutes smoke appeared and the ranger knew he was in trouble. The flames were racing to the west, directly at him. There was no time for caution now. As fast as he could he raced in the direction that he had left his horse.

Suddenly that run down sombrero popped up in front of him. Under the big hat was a pair of black eyes gazing over the brass frame of a 66 Winchester. True to form he sprayed shots from the Yellowboy as fast as he could work the lever. These bullets all went over the ranger's head. His answering shot caught the Mexican in the chest and the lever action became silent.

Smoke was becoming thicker and Hagan was on a dead run. A face appeared in front of him and the ranger's pistol barrel laid him low. When he got to where he had left the roan he found the branches broken off and the Cayuse gone. This was good, for he couldn't bear to see harm come to the defenseless animal.

He found the roan had wandered just out of range of the smoke and was drinking from a small pool in a nearly dried up stream. Looking both ways he tried to figure what the shortest route was around the fire. Hagan made the mistake of choosing the south. After he had ridden two and a half hours he realized that he had chosen the wrong way. He would have to make a dry camp for the night.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:35 EST

Finding an ancient wind cut rock he checked carefully for snakes and then laid out his camp. The smell of smoke was still so strong that the ranger shrugged "So what? " And made a small fire. A fire so small that it could quickly be smothered with a double handful of sand, if need be. On this he made coffee and a little bit of stew from some dried bits of jerky. Thus fed, he extinguished the fire and crawled into his bedroll.

Just after midnight he awoke instantly. What had wakened him' There it was again. A voice that groaned and then pleaded, "Por favor, help me Senor!"

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:40 EST

A call in the night could spell danger. The ranger didn't move a muscle. This might be a ploy to get him to move so that he could be shot down. Once again the groan came out of the night. He had to risk it. If that groan was real then a man was hurt and needed help. Hagan eased his way around the edge of the clearing and neither saw nor heard any sign of danger.

The groan came again and he rushed over to it. He eased in the last few feet in case the man was ready to shoot, but he was too far-gone for that.

"Where are you hurt, Amigo," asked Bud.

"I have been shot. Shot in the back by one who is truly ruthless," replied the wounded Mexican.

"Let me move you up by the fire, and I will look at your wound," offered the ranger.

"No, please, do not move me. I have not much time left and I wish to talk. There is money in my pocket but I have nobody to leave it to. Will you see that the church gets it?"

"Of course, it will be put to good use," Hagan promised. "Who shot you, Amigo?"

"King. I defied the King. I did not wish to go back to Lost Canyon, and when I turned to ride off, he shot me."

"Where is Lost Canyon' How do I get there?"

"It is east of where he started the fire. He wants to kill all the riders of the silver train with the help of the beast. I cannot in good faith murder my countrymen. When I told him this he said go - but he then shot me in the back. He has no, how you say....goodness in him. That one is truly evil."

The wounded man's breath was now coming in uneven gasps, and the ranger knew there wasn't much time left. "Who is this King, Senor" Do you know where he lives?"

"He lives in the town in a fancy place. He leaves his animal in the canyon."

"What is the animal" What kind of a beast is it?"

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:42 EST

The Mexican gasped for breath. "It is a ....a ...." His gasping stopped and he was gone.

So. The ranger had been wrong. There was a real beast and it was kept in Lost Canyon. But why would someone bring it to a robbery' It made no sense; no sense at all.

When daybreak came Hagan dug a grave and buried the Mexican. He had sounded like a good man who had got involved in a bad situation and wasn't able to get out The ranger realized that he had never even learned the man's name.

"Rest in peace, my friend," he said before he started his ride back to town.

Hagan knew that he had to trace the track from the head of the canyon and see if it did go to Lost Canyon. That trip might take days, though, and he didn't want to leave Cody alone for too long since he was new to his job of deputy. For a town where nothing was ever supposed to happen, Sierra Vista had shown him a lot of trouble in the few days he had been there.

When he rode back into town a voice from behind pulled him up short.

"Ranger Hagan, hold it right there."

It took a second for him to recognize the voice, and by then another joined it. "Bud, are you going to greet us or are you going to sit on your horse all day?"

It was Linda Applebee and her father, and a sweeter sound he had never heard. He leaped from his horse and the girl ran to his arms. There, right in front of the whole town, she kissed him full on the lips. Bud could feel his face become scarlet.

"You look like you stepped on something hot," quipped her father, and he and the hands with him shared a laugh. They soon had another, for Hagan's horse was not trained to ground hitch and, accepting his newly found freedom like an uncaged bird, he went down the street. He just walked at first, but as the cries of alarm came to his ears he started to trot away.

Hagan started to run after him, then stopped when he realized just how foolish he looked. Of course the hired hands found this hilarious and continued to laugh until Linda laid down the law.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:43 EST

"You guys are a sorry looking bunch of coyotes, you are. Now ride over there and get Bud's horse before I get mad." Apparently she must have been a terror when she did get mad, for they had soon retrieved the errant horse and returned it to the waiting ranger.

"Never mind about them, Bud, they've been living with cattle so long that they're growing horns. They kind of smell like them, too. So, what are you doing here" We heard stories but I didn't believe them. Everyone knows that you can't be an Arizona Ranger and the marshal of Sierra Vista at the same time."

"Well, actually I gave it some thought and I have jurisdiction any place in Arizona. This town is definitely in Arizona, so..." Too late he realized that he had been duped. She had been joking and he had taken the bait.

"Did you just come over here to give me a hard time?"

"That's right."

"Well, good, I'm glad you did. I need a little taking down once in a while," he admitted to his girl.

Suddenly she was serious again. "When I heard about a gunfight and then you acting as marshal I had to come and see how you were. I told Pa we needed supplies."

Leon Applebee was in earshot after all, for he boomed out, "Needed supplies here, when we always go to Tombstone for them. They only have half as much stuff here and we pay half again for it."

"It's closer to come here," she countered.

"It may be closer but with the rough trails it takes longer. Plus we bought supplies less than a month ago. Oh, you pulled the wool over my eyes, you did."

"If you're so smart, then you can buy us all a meal, and taking Bud's arm with one hand and her father's with the other she led the way to the caf?. When they entered the ranger was amazed to see a linen tablecloth spread on the table for them. Not only that, it looked like a good set of silver was in place. Now how had Linda been able to manage that' He had previously eaten here and the food was good, but he had never had service such as this.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:43 EST

When Hagan witnessed the greeting between Leon Applebee and the woman who owned the diner he realized his mistake.

"How are you, Maria. How are you making out?" asked Leon.

"I'm just fine. The restaurant makes a good living for me, for I work hard and my needs are few. It is good."

"I'm glad to hear that, Maria"

When she had gone back to the kitchen he told them, "Her husband Jim and I were pards when I first came out here. He met Maria and they put up a small place near the fort. This area was a lot different in those days. Seemed like we were fighting somebody day and night. The Indians were trying to drive the white men out, and I can't say that I blamed them. They lived here for centuries and wanted to keep what they had. It must have been a really good life before the white man came.

"But anyway, we did our share of fighting them in those days. Because we were young and tough and we weren't about to be driven from what we wanted. There were a lot more outlaws, too. There wasn't any law then, not until the Rangers were formed in '62, and then there were mighty few of those for the size of the territory. So every man was his own law, and we tried to act accordingly.

"I knew how I wanted my spread to be, and Jim had a pretty good idea of having one for himself. We were prospecting, looking to make enough for a good start, when we hit a pretty good strike on the upper Verde. Rumor got around that we were a lot richer than we were. Outlaws hit us on more than one occasion, but each time we were able to come out on top.

"One morning when the sky was just getting light we were attacked. Jim was on guard, and he was shot the first thing. I emptied my rifle at them but then they gave up and the fight was over. I buried Jim where he lay and then returned to civilization. It was the hardest thing I have ever done when I told Maria that her husband was gone."

He waited while Maria served plates of steaming biscuits and tubs of golden butter. "I sold our strike and gave half of the money to Maria. Later I helped her get this business and she has made out well. Better than I thought she would after losing Jim. She must miss him something fierce, but she never lets on. Always greets me with a smile and says it's going fine."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-12 20:44 EST

"Pa, you never told me that story before. How come?" asked Linda.

"It was a long time ago. You weren't even born then. It hasn't come up in conversation until now."

Hagan had listened intently to the tail. "Perhaps you will tell us some more about those days, Leon, when you get the chance. I've often imagined what it was like before I got here."

The main meal appeared, still beef, but the meat was cooked with potatoes and vegetables with gravy. Back East it would have been pot roast, but Maria had never been there. Instead she called it tender meat, which was an apt description.

When the meal was nearly over Leon hit them with a bombshell.

"I was never sure that it was Indians that killed Jim," he said. "The sign looked like Indian sign, but the attackers didn't act like it."

"How do you mean, Pa," asked Linda.

"Well, after they got Jim they almost seemed to get cold feet, like they were worried about pushing their luck too far. Indians usually get more worked up as a fight continues. I expected them to crawl up through the grass and try to rush me. There was plenty of cover for that. But this bunch stayed in the shadows for a while and swapped shots with me. Then they gave up and rode off. I have often wondered about that whole morning.

"The Apaches weren't on the warpath at that early date. Not with the whites, anyway. They kept fighting their traditional enemies in the other tribes until white men were settled in. By then I believe they knew they were too late. Geronimo still leads them to battle, but really their fate is sealed. There are just too many of us here now."

"Did they steal anything?" inquired the ranger.

"You come to the crux of the matter," answered Leon Applebee. "What does an Indian want with ore" Some tribes hammer out some silver ornaments but that's about it."

"And the white men, were there many around then?"

"Oh, sure, a lot of traffic was going to and from the goldfields in California. A couple of men had started ranches here but they moved on to the North. There is only one man left in Sierra Vista that was here in those days."

"And who would that be?"

"That, my friend, would be J.D. Jones."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:39 EST

Leon's story about J.D. being in this town for over twenty-five years was a revelation. It was possible that the man was guilty of much more than he was even suspected of. "When I get back from Tombstone," the ranger told himself, "I'm going to get to know Jones better than he knows himself. I hope."

Linda had more plans than just coming to town to check up on him. "Why don't we all ride with you, at least to our ranch' You almost have to stay over somewhere, and you'll have a nice safe place to stay."

"Safe" In the same house with you? You scare me."

"I'll bet. What I bet is that you have a woman in every town in the territory, except maybe this one."

"Why, you're here. That counts."

"Oh my goodness thank you, I didn't think you had noticed. Who have you got in Tombstone? Big Nosed Kate?"

"Don't even joke about it." Hagan had become serious. "She is Doc Holliday's woman, and he is a gunfighter who just won't quit."

"Is he really that dangerous" How come?"

"Simple. He has tuberculosis. He knows he hasn't got much time left, so he is not afraid of dying. That makes the most deadly combination in the West; a gunman who is not afraid of death.."

Linda shuddered. "Ugh, it is awful to think about."

"Don't. Holliday doesn't. And he is not an evil man; he just lives in a dangerous situation. He's a good man to have on your side."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:41 EST

In the morning they loaded up and headed out, bringing along a very unwilling prisoner. Twombly was absolutely nasty.

"Hey Ranger, what are we, going on a picnic" You and that little..."

"TWOMBLY! Shut your mouth or I'll do it for you. When there is a lady present you will say please and thank you."

"She ain't no lady, not if you.."

Faster then the eye could follow the Arizona Ranger drew his Colt and slammed the barrel alongside the outlaw's head. "Twombly, I'll tell you one more time. The sight of blood doesn't bother me much, especially if it's yours. When the lady s present you will mind your manners. Or I will hurt you. Savvy?"

An answering grunt from Twombly passed for a yes.

When they rode out of town a face was glued to the bank's rear window.

"Did you see him, Leon?" asked Bud.

"Yeah, I saw him. I wonder what?s going on in that head of his."

"Probably nothing good."

————————————————————————— ———————————————

The Arizona Ranger was right. J.D. Jones didn't have any good thoughts, at least none that anybody knew about. From the time he was a small child nothing had happened to make him feel otherwise. His father had been a banker who decided he wanted to emulate John Jacob Astor by getting wealthy through the buying and selling of furs. He was years too late.

When the old man sunk all his money into a proposed rendezvous at Yellowstone his wagons full of dry and wet goods were attacked on the Platte and the valuables all lost. It didn't really matter, for none of the remaining mountain men were coming anyway. Astor held a similar event at Taos and that is where they blew their last year's wages.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:41 EST

Mr. Jones was devastated and his bank immediately closed. What he did for the rest of his life is not known, certainly not by J.D., for he left to save himself embarrassment. To him the word failure was as bad as it gets, and that is what egged him on for the remainder of his time. He never saw or heard from any member of his family again. Or, to be exact, except for the once when he had cleaned out the very last of his father's money from the vault. He had been outside when his father had shown up, and his last memory of him was the pasty white face pressed against the window. "Loser," was all he thought of the incident.

J.D. traded with all the dishonest elements he could find for the next few years. He wanted to build a big stake and he didn't care how he did it. When the War Between the States came along he traded with barbarians like Quantrell. Be they Northern or Southern, if stolen goods came along he was ready to buy them for pennies on the dollar. He was sorry when the war ended, for he had made a small fortune in its duration.

He tried his hand at carpet bagging but his results were poor. He did not have any friends in high up places to give him absolute authority. When he wrangled a position in Texas he was nearly killed. The Texans didn't care if a man was a judge or a banker; if they found him to be crooked his life was in danger. J.D. left Texas looking for a different line of work.

When the transcontinental railroad was completed it was a revelation to him. He could now run crooked operations all over the country. If he was questioned he could simply say that he was just passing through on the train so how could he be involved? It turned out that he never was even questioned, for a man in a business suit is usually the last one to be suspected.

J.D. shipped whiskey from the East and cattle from the West. His whiskey was destined for illegal sale to the Indians and his beef was some of the heaviest know to history. The reason was he was buying pilfered ore from mine workers and stuffing it down the gullets of the cattle. He rode with them to make sure he lost nothing when these beeves were slaughtered.

How anyone caught on he never knew, but one day as a train approached the stockyards a trio of Pinkertons was waiting. J.D. wasn't even sure if they were onto his scam or another. He simply buried his face in a newspaper and kept riding. He had taken a small loss on that trip. It was time to move on to a more promising forte.

He went back to Sierra Vista and opened his own bank. He was done with the railroad and this town was far enough away from it that he felt secure. One of his earliest and more profitable heists had been made very close to this town. He wondered if Leon Applebee had ever suspected him of being there when his partner was killed. It didn't seem likely, or the man would have come calling. No, the Indian disguises had worked admirably.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:42 EST

That Arizona Ranger had him worried. He was sharp. It was obvious that the visit to his bank was because of some suspicions, not for a need of an account. Wes Smith had stumbled around past the truth for years and never picked up a clue. Hagan was different. In just a couple of days the fellow knew more about this town than Smith had learned in years. J.D. didn't like it.

A while back J.D. had done a little business with a man by the name of Johnny Ringo. That had been profitable at the time, but it was doubly so because Ringo had given him an idea. An idea that, if pushed to its fullest, could indeed make J.D. the crime lord of the Southwest, and nobody would be the wiser.

At least that's what he hoped. That Ranger made him nervous. He was too smart for his own good. Maybe it was time to do away with him.

————————————————————————— ———————————————

Twombly was not only fit to be tied - he was tied. A rope ran between his horse and the one of the cowboy in front of his kept him moving. To his rear another had carrying a double-barreled shotgun watched his back. There was no chance of escape on this trail. "Maybe tonight at the ranch," he thought.

Ahead of him Hagan and the Applebees joked and laughed as they rode along. The ranger looked like he didn't have a care in the world, and with Linda by his side he certainly had no worries.

"Couldn't I ride along with you to Tombstone, Bud" I can shoot as well as most, and you would be safer." Linda knew she would be vetoed, but she had to try.

Leon couldn't resist the opportunity. "Now, Linda, I don't think Bud would be very safe if you got him alone on the range."

"Oh, you, you just mind your own business. What do you think, Bud, can I ride along?"

"I'm sorry, kid, but not this time. I am on duty, and if he escaped people would. think it was because my mind was on you. And they'd be right," he smiled. "Not only that, but it would be scandalous. I won't be the cause of any talk about you."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:43 EST

"In this territory' You know as well as I do that a lot of girls from the cribs are marrying cowboys and making them good wives. Nobody gossips about them."

"Apples and oranges. Your positions are totally different."

"He's right, Lindy," put in her father. "You come from a better background and have a lot further to fall. And that is the end of the matter."

To her credit, Linda accepted his last word and still kept her cheerful mood. "At least you can stop on your was back and spend a day. You deserve a day off, and when is the last time you took one?"

The ranger looked a bit sheepish. "Tell you the truth, I can't remember."

"Then it's settled. You will stay for a whole day, and I'll show you all the interesting things we have on the ranch."

When they arrived at the ranch it was way before dark, and after jailing the prisoner securely in a storage shed and posting a guard they rode around the spread a bit to show Bud the lay of the land. The normal route of travel was from the east and he knew that well. To the south lay broken hills that sloped down to the desert sands.

"Leon, do you think Lost Canyon could exist down there?"

"Sure it could," said the elder man. "I've never seen a lot of the land that I lay claim to. Beyond that, who knows? It's like everything else in the west - full of surprises. Look at all the gold and silver that the prospectors are still discovering. Just when you think there is nothing new, there it is, right under your nose."

"You have a point. You know, I'm going to find it. When I do I'll bet it will be the end of these night time robberies."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:44 EST

Word had just come down to the very canyon that the ranger was looking for. The man in charge read the instruction, than quickly read them again. It made no sense, for there was no mention of what they were to steal. What was the sense of a raid if one didn't steal"

No matter. He was a loyal man as long as the money was coming in. He picked the raiders he wanted and told them to saddle up. Then he took two men with him and wrestled a harness on an animal that was truly alien to this territory. When all was ready he led them off with instructions to be very quiet until the actual raid.

————————————————————————— ———————————————

Their dinner had been great, as had the singing afterwards. Now Mrs. Applebee made an announcement. "Well, it's time for us old folks to turn in. Linda and Bud, you folks will have the parlor to yourselves."

"I'm not tired. I'll stay up with 'em," said the woman's husband.

"Leon, we are tired. Now come along."

"Yes, Dear." He finally got the drift of what she was saying.

Linda laughed as her parents left them alone. "Now too subtle, is she?"

"She's nice. They both are. That must be why you're so nice." He put his arm around her shoulders.

She turned to kiss him, but before she could a strange sound came from the edge of the ranch yard. A sound that might seem to be a demon to a superstitious person.

"What is that?" they cried in unison.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:47 EST

The sound outside the Applebee ranch house was unlike anything either of them had ever heard. "Uaaaarrgh," it bellowed again.

"What on earth is that?" whispered Linda.

"I don't know, but it has to be the same creature the robbery victims have been hearing. Robbery victims! They must be raiding the ranch!"

"I'll get my shotgun," volunteered Linda.

"Okay, but stay inside and protect the rest of your family. Lock the door behind me."

Out in the darkness chaos ruled. The horses in the corral neighed in fright and finally managed to knock down a section of poles and ran away in terror. "CaWhoops" from unseen riders urged them on. Here and there random shots were fired. In the bunkhouse the hands were now awake and shots came from that direction, searching for outlaw targets.

Seeing movement on the porch, two of the riders rushed Hagan with sixguns blazing. The ranger desperately returned fire, for he did not want any stray bullets hitting the people inside the house. The blast of a shotgun came from a window and Hagan knew he was not alone in this battle. One of the horses buck-jumped, and he knew Linda must have stung it with birdshot.

A man with a flaming torch approached the big stable. Hagan took his time and shot him cleanly. Another man ran over to drag the victim away from the torch and the ranger let him go.

Bud heard Leon hollering and before he could stop him the man came out on the porch beside him. "Leon, get back inside. I'll take care of 'em."

"This is my spread and I will protect it," Applebee shouted. As if his voice was a beacon two of the raiders turned their whole attention to it and began to advance.

"Leon, you sure as shooting ticked somebody off," muttered Hagan as he pushed the older man to the side and upended a bench, trying to find cover. The pine bench was not up to the job, and several bullets hit it and penetrated. The last one caught Leon in the thigh.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:48 EST

As the ranger stopped to reload his Colt a rider raced up to try and beat the speed of those adept fingers. His cry of triumph became one of pain when Hagan pulled his derringer and snapped a shot that lodged in the outlaw's shoulder.

As soon as Hagen had reloaded he dropped the big iron in its holster and tied up Applebee's leg with his kerchief. Then, shouting to Linda to be ready at the door, he dragged the big man inside and bade the women look after him.

"Keep a good watch," he told Linda, "I think they may try to fire the house."

Even as he ran back outside the coincidence struck him. Fire! The same weapon that was set upon him in that canyon to the south.

No time for that now. The scene had become quiet before him. Too quiet. He quickly but carefully ran around the house. Going around a back corner he nearly collided with a man carrying an unlit torch. Before the outlaw could even look up the ranger had nailed him over the head with his pistol barrel.

He waited a minute and a voice came out of the night.

"Jim, where'd you go' Jim?" A fresh torch flared and Hagan snapped a shot that hit the man's shoulder. This one skedaddled but dropped his torch when he ran. The ranger was forced to pick it up and carry it around the building and toss it in the water trough. He expected to draw fire from the light, but none was forthcoming.

A burst of gunfire came from the direction of the shed that served as a jail. When a riderless horse came in his direction the ranger was able to grab the reins and spring to the saddle. Two men were riding out the road to the east, and after a brief chase Hagan gave up on them and came back to the yard to take stock.

"Bud, are you okay?" Linda had run out to be beside him.

"Sure am, and I appreciate your help," he told her.

"How's your father?"

"He'll be all right."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:49 EST

Shouts came from the direction of the storage shed. "Hank's hurt," came a cry.

They rushed over to find the guard to the prisoner lying on the ground and a couple of cowboys wrapping his chest with a pillowcase.

"Move over and let me see," commanded Linda. "Is this a clean pillowcase?"

"Oh, yes, ma'am," answered an awkward cowboy.

The wound looked fierce, but it had actually glanced off the ribs and exited without penetrating the chest cavity. This was one lucky cowboy.

Bud suddenly remembered the man's job. "What about the prisoner" Is he still in there?"

The other cowpoke shook his head. "That's him, over there on the ground."

"What happened?"

"The fellow picked a mighty poor time to try an escape. Somehow he got loose and came out the window just as the raiders rode by. When he rushed out to them they shot him down. Hank tried to protect him but got shot for his trouble.

The ranger shook his head in admiration. This was one of the ways of the cowboy. He would fight an enemy to his dying breath, but if he found that enemy helpless and in danger he would try to protect him.

Hagan examined the method of escape. Twombly still had his cuffs on. From the looks of the inside of the shed the man must have tried everything that might move. He finally settled on a loose window. Only bad luck made his try to flee when the ranch was being attacked. Or perhaps he thought the outlaws would recognize that he was a prisoner and help him escape. It didn't matter now. It occurred to the ranger that the raiders wouldn't have helped him even if they had known.

Under Linda's watchful eye the cowboys carried their wounded comrade to the house. He was a stoic one, just clenching his jaw when they hurt him but never uttering a word of complaint.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:49 EST

"If this keeps up we'll have us a regular hospital," said the pretty girl.

"It's not going to keep up," replied Bud. "I'm going to put a stop to it."

"Want me to send a rider to Tombstone to tell them about Twombly?" Leon was up and at the table already, although it was obvious he would not be walking for a while.

"No, I'll just wire from Sierra Vista when I take the body back to town."

"Bury him here if you want. We already have a good mixture up on the hill."

"Thanks, Leon, but I'll try to notify his family. There might be somebody that cares."

The older man snorted. "Humph, if there are any more of them they're apt to come gunning for you."

"I'll have to chance it. It is the right thing to do."

"You rangers and your code of ethics," Leon shook his head. "I know you're right, but I hate to see you put yourself in danger."

"It kind of goes with the job."

Linda had been in the rear of the room, minding her own business, but now she had to speak out. "Bud, what about your day off" You need it, and I was looking forward to our time together."

"We'll do it real soon, I promise. I've got the feeling that once I find the secret of Lost Canyon I'll have this case solved. Then we can have some time together."

He pulled out by nine in the morning, with the sweet taste of Linda's lips on his and a dead body draped across the saddle of the horse he was leading. Despite the macabre load in back of him his mood was light-hearted and he whistled as he rode along.

Once he got back in town he went to see Wes Smith and tell him the story.

"Well, I'll be," said the marshal, "Talk about an odd twist of fate. To escape just in time to be shot by a band of outlaws. There's some kind of justice there, but I'm not sure if it's poetic. Live by the gun, die by the gun. Truer words were never spoken."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:50 EST

"Amen to that,. Wes. How is Cody working out?"

"Just fine, as near as I can see. Of course, you know this town. Nothing ever happens."

"So you keep telling me, Wes. So you keep telling me."

When the ranger found Cody Wells he was in for a surprise. The deputy had a black eye and a mark across his forehead that had to have been made by a gun barrel.

"Quiet weekend, Cody?"

"Yup. Of course, there was a tiny little scrap in a bar, but I easily put that down."

"Let me guess. You put your face in the way so that they could hurt their fists on it."

"You got it. Worked like a charm, too. There are a couple of drawbacks to it but it is effective."

"Looks it. Are you up to a few more days?"

"Sure, but I wouldn't mind a little change of pace. Gets kind of boring hanging around in this jail."

The ranger inquired if anybody was in the cells, and when he was told they were empty he said, "Tell you what. Do you want to ride out with me on a wild goose chase"

I want to look for Lost Canyon. I do have a lead, and we should get there by nightfall."

"Light me a shuck,' cause I'm on my way."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:51 EST

Hours later they were riding through the path of destruction that the fire had left.

There were no signs of animals, no scurries and bird songs; the only tracks were the ones they were leaving behind them as they rode. The animals had made their escapes easily, for the scope of this fire had been fairly small, compared to the huge forest fires in the northern woods. Hagan figured this area would grow back, richer than before.

"Ah, that looks like it," the ranger said, pointing to the canyon where he had followed the outlaw previously. "See that lone pine just above the burn" We'll split up and meet there. They might still have guards posted up there somewhere, so be very careful. "

"I will, and I've brought something to stand behind," joked Cody. He wasn't wrong, though. He had brought a 56-50 Spencer rifle and that was a powerful weapon. His sidearm was an 1851 Colt Navy revolver, now outdated but still formidable if the shooter made sure the caps and chambers were perfectly dry.

"Be careful," the ranger repeated. Then they rode off on their separate ways.

In a short while the ranger rode around a clump of boulders and stopped short at the sight of an old man bent over a patch of bedrock that he had uncovered with a whiskbroom. When he saw what the old timer was doing he realized that this was a prospector.

"Howdy, old timer, any colors?"

The oldster stood up and grinned. "Not yet, but I've got high hopes. In a lot of places like this one even the roots burnt out and I can check a lot of bedrock. Of course, that means dry panning, but I've done worse work."

"I didn't think there was anything worse," answered Bud, remembering the few times he had prospected and the back ache that seemed to set in immediately. These prospectors were tough old birds.

"Say did you ever hear of a place called Lost Canyon' I'm looking for it. There is supposed to be some strange beast kept there"

To this the old man started to chuckle and almost giggle.

"What's so funny?' the ranger asked sternly.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:52 EST

"If I was ever there I was also lost, so I don't know if I have been there or not."

The ranger grunted and rode on in disgust, Behind him the old man still smiled and even began to laugh. These lawmen! In such a hurry that they ride right past the obvious signs. Even when the simple facts are public knowledge. He kept laughing as the ranger rode out of sight.

As the Arizona Ranger rode out of sight the old prospector laughed so hard that he had to wipe his eyes. This crazy lawman! If he had only taken the time to talk to an old prospector then his problems would be solved. But, no, what could an old man know" Again the grizzled old timer chuckled to himself.

Hagan had forgotten about the old man as soon as he rode away. Which, it would later turn out, was not such a smart thing to do. However, a lesson learned the hard way is one that's remembered. The ranger would remember this one.

Hagan picked up a set of tracks just before the end of the burn. The rider had ridden up a sandy wash and when he got here he had no choice but to cross the strip. Apparently there were still outlaws up in the hills here somewhere and this was a messenger. The tracks went straight in the direction of "the back door," so the ranger did not follow them directly.

When he got to the point where the fire had been started the smell of coal tar was in the air, and he understood why the fire took hold so quickly. These people had been prepared for any contingency.

Were they still around" If Lost Canyon lay somewhere ahead then they must be. He crossed the trail above the rocks where the watchers had previously been but saw no sign of them. Very carefully he worked his way over to the meeting place with Cody Wells.

Apparently the deputy hadn't arrived yet. Hagan sat and waited for another half hour before he began to get nervous. He was just about to go looking when Cody showed up.

"I stumbled onto a meeting," Wells explained, "I ducked out of sight when I saw an outlaw coming, and he met somebody from town right in front of me! They talked low so I didn't catch much, but I know I heard two things. One is that they are going to hit an outgoing shipment of ore on Friday night. And listen to this. I am sure I heard one of them say the letters J.D."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:53 EST

"I figured he was involved, and that pretty well proves it. Wes Smith said the silver goes into Mexico. I wonder which trail they will use" Montezuma Pass or will they go through Douglas and Aqua Prieta" Probably the later, for they are heading for Mexico City. Cody, I need to send you back to warn the mine about the coming hold-up. This is tricky, because we don't want to tip off J.D. that we're on to him. Do you know anybody there that we can trust?"

"I think so. They shoe their own mules at the mine, but the foremen bring their horses to me. I think I know which ones are trustworthy. Or I hope I do."

"Me, too. See if you can contact someone high enough up to hire more shotgun guards for this trip. That could be a tricky thing to do without showing our hand. I know, see if they can get a crew to meet the train outside of town and escort it. Outriders have a better fighting chance anyway."

"Want me to ride with them?"

"Nope. You should be right in town, keeping an eye on Jones and Company. I should be back by then, but don't worry if I'm not. "

'Okay, see you, and Bud" You be careful, too."

Hagan was now creeping along the steep slope over the back door trail. Cody had been gone for hours, and in the interim the ranger had actually laid in the shade of a tree and slept for an hour. He had the feeling he might not get much sleep during the coming night. It was now an hour before dark and he was trying to get to the canyon while he could still see.

He realized his mistake even as he embarked on this little trek. He was heading east and the sun was setting. As the sun gets low it lengthens the shadows a great deal. He was going to have to be doubly careful.

Everything was going well until he felt a pressure just in back of his ear. In the very same instant he hear the clack of the cocking revolver. The ranger did not move a muscle. He had seen and heard of some remarkable feats done to beat the drop, but there was not even a chance here. He was captured and he well knew it.

He felt fingers loosen and remove the Colt from his holster and then a raspy voice said, "Don't move a muscle unless I tell you. This is a 44-40 and it makes a mess when it hits something. That something will be your head if you get funny. You read me?"

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:53 EST

"Sure do. I know when I'm on the short end."

"Good, now slowly get up and start walking. Never mind turning around and looking at me. Just face straight ahead and start moving."

"Yes Sir, I am on my way."

The outlaw had no way of knowing that this was even too polite for Hagan. For all he knew he always talked this way. Actually, when he became overly helpful it was time to watch out.

When they got to a bend of the trail the outlaw had him lean his hands against a rock with his feet far in back of him. It was an effective way to keep a man still. Then the other climbed up on a point of rock and motioned with a set of cavalry signal flags. In moments a horse raced up.

"Hey Vince, what did you catch' Whoeeee, a lawman. An Arizona Ranger to boot! You found yourself a prize. "

Then the new man turned his attention to Hagan. "So what are you up to' Looking for anything special?"

"Yeah, I got a little time off, and a old man I met in the desert said there was a lode of gold up here somewhere."

"That's right, I lost it when I dropped my May Basket. What kind of a fool do you take me for?"

"Is this multiple choice?" the ranger inquired in a most sincere voice.

" I'll show you..." The man's voice trailed off as another rider came up from the hidden canyon.

"Hey Trace, J's..."

"Slow down Herk. We have company."

"Oh, Yeah, I, ah, just wanted to say that there's just another rider coming in from the other way."

"Right, now go back and tell him the story. You might mention this badge."

Herk left, and in a very few minutes a voice that had to belong to J.D. hollered, "Take him out of here. Not too far. Just to that watering hole hidden at the adobes"

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:54 EST

At first Bud thought they were taking him out of here - then he realized that they must be talking about their animal, what ever that might be.

"What are we going to do with him' Shoot him?" This was from the outlaw that had captured Hagan.

The other man shook his head no. " I don't know much about these Arizona Rangers, but I'm from Texas. If a Texas Ranger gets murdered the rest of the force doesn't rest until everyone connected with it is dead."

"That's right," Hagan put in. "They won't rest until they have your hides stretched out on the sand. Plus my friends Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday will want to take a hand in it, too. I saw them last week and they were just spoiling for a fight."

"Do you really know those guys?"

"Sure do. Why, just last week Earp rode with me over to the Applebees. He was interested in some far flung story about a strange creature living in the desert. I don't think there's anything to it, myself." The ranger was quick to notice the exchanged glances of the two outlaws.

"You think he really knows Earp, Trace?"

"Sure, why not. They're both lawmen, aren't they' You watch him and I'll run down and talk this over with the boss."

Hagan caught himself just in time. He had been about to say, "You mean J.D.?"

Once alone with the ranger the remaining outlaw became talkative. "Is that true about you rangers sticking up for each other" "

"Sure, what do you think" We share a lonely and dangerous job. Nobody else can understand what it is like except another ranger. You're darned right we stick up for each other."

Hagan had no idea why, but the outlaw had neglected to tie his hands. The ranger tried to keep him talking so that he wouldn't think of it. "On the other hand, what does Arizona do for us? Not much. That's why I'm up here looking for gold. I'll bet that lode is somewhere close by. You and I could find it and get out of here without the rest of them even knowing."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:55 EST

The outlaw was thinking about it. He had no way of knowing that the ranger would not sell out no matter what. He just knew that if he was in the other's place he would have no sense of loyalty and would grab anything he got a chance to grab. That was the way he was; why shouldn't the ranger be the same way"

"Why do you hang around with these fellows, anyway' There's no future with them."

When the outlaw looked up the ranger realized he had said the wrong thing. He would soon find out why.

"I'll tell you why. Trace is my brother. The rest of them I'd throw over, but I have to stick by my brother. You know, I should go back and watch the pass. If you came through there maybe someone else will."

The idea finally came to the guard. "I can't leave you loose. I'll have to tie your hands and hobble you. If you promise to be quiet I won't gag you."

"I promise. Who would I shout to, anyway?"

"Okay, put your feet out in front of you and I'll tie them up."

The ranger could not believe his eyes. What had this fellow done, flunked out of outlaw school" When his would-be captor bent over his legs with a rawhide strap in his hands Hagan quickly drew his derringer and cocked it in back of the outlaw's ear. Now it was his turn to freeze.

"Don't even breathe," Hagan said. "Vince, you were fair to me, so I will be to you. First, with your left hand open the buckle on your gun belt and let it fall." The other carefully obliged.

"Now, you do have people in shouting distance so I will have to gag you as well as tie you up. But I'll leave you loose enough that you can work yourself out in a half hour or so. Fair enough?" The other nodded yes.

"I'll give you one piece of advice. Start with a man's hands when you tie him up, not his feet."

With that the ranger retrieved his six-gun and headed back out the trail the way he had came. When he had gone three hundred yards he was out of sight and he promptly changed direction. He had not come this far without getting a look at the canyon.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:56 EST

He found himself in a wooded and trackless stretch. Here a cottontail went bounding away, and not far away a big jackrabbit took off. The young growth was so thick he had to push his way through. After a while he could see a break ahead of him and he slowly approached it.

What he saw took his breath away.

When Bud Hagan was thirty feet from the edge of the thicket he could see that there was an abrupt change in front of him. As he cleared the wood a gasp came from him. Below him lay a verdant vista that he had never guessed could even exist in southern Arizona. Lost Canyon!

This must be it. There was no other explanation. The grass was thicker than any he had seen this side of Wyoming. A good-sized stream ran through the center, but it disappeared back into the ground. No wonder this valley was so green. All the water must be saved in its own aquifer.

He tried to guess at the size. Approximately one mile long and three miles wide, this place was literally an Eden.

"What a place for a ranch," thought Hagan momentarily. Then he smiled and shook his head. "Heck, I barely know which end of a beef critter you shovel up after." This, of course, was a large understatement. An Arizona Ranger had to know about everything that he possibly could. And he had to know it well.

As he watched subtle movements caught his eye and he counted a total of eighteen deer coming out to forage. A gobble of a wild turkey on its roost came to his ears. This was a virtual paradise. Hagan thought it was a shame that it was used as an outlaw hide out. "I'll put a stop to that," he thought.

There was no visible entrance from where he stood. At the east end a wisp of dust showed where the others must have departed with the beast. It looked like a solid wall of rock, but there must be a break in it that was used as a passage. Hagan tried to imagine the first man that had entered this canyon. How amazed he must have been at what he saw.

It was quickly growing dark now, and the ranger looked for a way down to the main floor of the valley. A thinly treed slope sufficed, and he sidestepped down in the growing dark, holding to a sapling when necessary. Once down he looked for the outlaw's camp. At first he could see no trace of it, but finally he saw the flicker of reflected flames.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:56 EST

It showed him that this was not a bunch of tenderfeet, although he had never once thought they were. They had built a small fire that was sheltered on two sides by a big rock. It was a fire to cook on, and nothing else. A greenhorn will build a roaring inferno that can be seen for miles. The smoke billows up as a signal to all the Indian nations in three territories. Then the fellow will have trouble trying to get close enough to the heat to set his frying pan. To top it off he will then stare into the flames for hours until he is so blinded that an attacker will have free run of the camp. Or the greenhorn's scalp. Hagan figured that such behavior must be traced to childhood days on picnics.

The outlaws did no such thing. They cooked a meal on their small fire, then banked it just enough that a coffee pot would stay hot for the night watch. That in itself said a lot. Not many people would post a guard in a hidden place such as this. But these did.

An aroma of roasting venison wafted to the ranger's nose and his stomach growled with hunger. All he had was a cold biscuit in his pocket, so he took that out and gnawed at it. He loved biscuits but at the moment this one didn't seem to hit the spot. It would have to do for the time being.

He located the remuda in a little stand of trees. The outlaws had run a simple rope from the branches, just enough to show the horses their place. There was one guard who showed up with a plate of food and sat down with his back to a tree to eat it. The ranger grinned. This could be a place to perform some deviltry. But first, Hagan must find out more about what the denizens of this canyon were up to.

Getting by the guard was easy, for he was totally engrossed in his meal. The ranger had worried that the horses might sound an alarm. They must have seen him, but they were so used to the comings and goings of strangers that his appearance did not alarm them.

Hagan crept toward the campfire on his hands and knees, safely sheltered in the rich grass. He stopped when he was close enough to hear them.

"How come the boss ran off in such a hurry?" This was a strange voice that Hagan had not heard before.

"Who know" He's as nervous as a madam in church since that Arizona Ranger showed up." That was Trace, Hagan was sure of it.

"He's never acted like this before, and we've done bigger jobs. This silver train should be easy. We just show 'em old Hiram, kill all the guards and make off with the silver. What could be simpler?"

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:57 EST

"You are bloodthirsty, but in this case I would guess you're right. It should go smooth as silk Just as long as we keep it quiet so that the ranger can't get together an army to meet us."

"We ought to just shoot him. Then we wouldn't have to worry."

"Are you nuts" We would have every ranger in the territory down on our backs. When one of their own is shot down these rangers just don't quit. No, we'll keep him tied up until the job is done. Then I suppose we will have to move. Of course, the guy could have an accident or something."

"I thought you just said we couldn't kill him."

"We can't, here in camp. But if his horse was to step in a ground squirrel hole, or he picked up a stray bullet in town, then who would know the difference?"

"Hey, yeah, I see what you mean. I hope he doesn't get loose up there"

"Nah, we'll double up the guard tonight. We'll keep him safe and sound."

High above them, the guard was just now removing the ropes that bound him. It had taken longer than the half hour that was suggested. He knew that his voice wouldn't be heard at camp, so he did the next best thing. Retrieving his belt and holster, he drew his sidearm and fired three shots into the air.

The men in front of Hagan were good. The ranger would be the first to admit that. The fire had been smothered with sand before the echo of the last pistol shot stopped ringing. Every man in front of him had found the cover of a sheltering rock. Then they were stone silent.

In a few minutes the guard came riding down the hill and to the campsite. "Hey, the ranger got away! He had a hideout and he got the drop on me."

"I swear a baby could get the drop on you with his rattle! I can't believe you let him get away."

"I tell you he had another gun. I almost got killed."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:57 EST

"That would be a shame. If King were hare he would probably kill you himself. I wouldn't blame him."

"Now, come on. This could happen to anyone."

"No, it couldn't. Now, listen closely. Get back up on top and try to stay awake. If that lawman comes through again, shoot him! Never mind about his buddies, just shoot him down."

"You can count on me."

"I wish. Now get going."

When the guard had gone back to his position the others talked among themselves.

"Do you think he'll come back?"

"Yeah, I do. He knew he was close to Lost Canyon and he suspects what is going on. He knows darned well that we're outlaws because we held him at gunpoint. Yeah, he'll be back. The question is when" And will he come alone?"

"Billy, you'd better ride into town and tell J.D. about this. Tell him we could move Hiram nearer to the Mexican trail and camp there. We should probably stay out of this place from now on. Now that the ranger knows about it he'll come back."

Hagan sat in the darkness and tried to make sense of what he had heard. The robbery sounded like just what he had expected, but who was this Hiram they kept referring to' It might be the unknown animal, but still the question remained - why bring it to a robbery"

All in good time. Right now he must figure out the best way to leave. His horse was loosely tied to a small branch back at the edge of the burn, and he knew it could break away if it wanted. The ranger's curiosity was getting the better of him, and he wanted to see what the east entrance of Lost Canyon looked like. No better time than the present.

Hagan back tracked out of range of the outlaws by the dead fire. He cautiously moved between rocks and trees to break his silhouette as best he could. It was a long way to the end of the canyon, and he went so slowly that two hours had elapsed by the time he hit the eastern rock face. Here he was stymied.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 16:58 EST

There was no apparent exit from the canyon, yet he had heard it mentioned by the outlaws. He had also seen the dust of riders departing just before dark. They could not have flown. There had to be a hidden trail.

On his second pass along the face he became aware of what had been alerting him. It was an odor, and not a pleasant one. Obviously manure, this sampling was definitely not horse droppings. The aroma of horses was not unpleasant, at least to anyone that liked the big animals. Hagan figured that whatever this was, he did not want to be shoveling any of it.

The small was strongest at the center of the face. On checking this area again, the ranger found an angling passage leading through the rock. This must be the exit. The stink was so bad that he hated to enter. Aha! Was that the secret to this unknown animal? The fact that its odor kept others at bay' It was possible, judging by what he found here.

Hagan had no way of knowing if this passage did indeed go all the way through. Now did he know who or what might be waiting at the other end. There was only one way to find out, so, loosening his Colt in its holster, he slowly entered the rock.

The smell was nearly suffocating in here and he slid his bandana up over his nose. He had to go slowly for fear of making noise. The sides of the passage were smooth for the first hundred feet, and then rough spots indicated that portions had been blasted to widen it for travel. Hagan could see nothing in here, so he kept his left hand in contact with the wall.

All of a sudden contact was lost! Gingerly he felt around and found a natural indentation into the wall that went about four feet. He had not traveled move that ten feet past this when footsteps sounded in back of him.

Quickly he dove back into the cleft and listened. Two sets of footsteps were overtaking him. Soon he could see the glare of a torch. He was trapped!

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 17:05 EST

The sound of voices entering the rock passage where Hagan waited made him scurry back to the indentation on the left hand wall. He was trapped!

The light of a torch now flickered down the passage. The voices of the outlaws were plain as day.

"Do you think he found his way through here?"

"Nah, not a chance. To be on the safe side we'll fix up the set gun pointing to the outside entrance. Two loads of buckshot will stop anything."

"Ugh, that set gun gives me the creeps. What if one of us got into the trip wire" That sawed off shotgun would cut someone in two. I don't like it."

"Believe me, Jud, nobody cares what you think. If you're so stupid that you walk into the wire you deserve to get your guts blown out. Nobody else has had any problem."

"But..."

"Shut up. Just shut up and do what you're told. Don't forget, you know too much for them to let you leave."

A tough bunch, indeed, thought the Arizona Ranger. Apparently they would kill any member of the gang that tried to leave. Nice people.

"Whew, I'll be glad to get out of this tunnel. What a stench."

"Yeah, it's bad. That animal is making us plenty of money, though, so we had better put up with it. Don't talk until we get out of here and it won't bother you so much."

When they passed his hiding place Hagan saw a pair of scruffy characters. The hats were the first things he noticed, for they were so ratty as to draw attention. One had a hat of straw and the other was made of felt. Both looked like they had been used as shotgun targets before a herd of cattle ran over them. The straw hat had a broken feather stuck in it that made its owner look like a Mexican street beggar. He had a double looped ammo belt across his chest that verified the ranger's guess of his origin. There were two things that Mexicans liked. One was plenty of ammo in an exposed belt. The other was handguns. They seemed to put a trust in a sidearm that transcended all reason. Hagan had seen them approaching unknown danger with their rifle or shotgun forgotten but their pistol at ready.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 17:05 EST

Their clothes were so rough that the ranger wondered how they could stand them. Then the obvious reason hit him - they had been away from towns for a long time with no chance to get new ones. J.D. must have ordered these fellows to stay here no matter what. The life of an outlaw can be a tough one.

The ranger tried to melt into the rock as they passed. He needn't have worried. The pair was so sure they were alone that they strode along briskly. Hagan gave them a good half hour before following. As the light at the end of the passageway started to show he slowed down even more, for he had not liked the sound of that sawed off set gun. Gingerly his hands and feet slid over the surface, searching for a trip wire before he set it off. Fifty feet from the entrance he could hear voices.

A messenger must have ridden straight back from seeing J.D., for his voice was authoritative. "Never mind leaving a guard here. If he should come through the set gun will get him. You two go out to the other camp in the draw.

"Trace, you go up with Vince in case the ranger should come back. You other guys go into town and see if you can see the ranger. If you do, kill him! Never minding waiting for an excuse, just shoot him and we'll think of a story later. He has got to go!"

With that they rode off and Hagan was alone. The wire was at the very edge of the tunnel, covered with brush and scree. This way a man would set it off and never even know it was there. Bud was glad he had overheard that conversation or they might be picking him up with spoons.

He looked over the set gun. It was a regular 12 gauge Greener with the barrels sawed off to a foot and a half long. That length barrel would be good with buckshot at close range and fast if the shooter were trying to hit a quail. The stock had been left alone. Its owner must have used it for many duties. Bud was tempted to take it with him but left it as to leave no sign of his whereabouts.

The outlaws had vanished and he had no idea of how far away they were headed. Here he was without his horse! He resigned himself to hours of walking and started the long hike around the outside of Lost Valley.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 17:06 EST

Back in Sierra Vista J.D. Jones paced the floor of his office. Curse the luck! Why did an Arizona Ranger have to show up in this town" Wes Smith was blind in the ways of imagination, but this ranger was sharp. He could send years of scheming right down the drain. He had to meet with disaster.

J.D. Jones was a man that liked a back up plan. Just in case things went wrong he began preparations to leave. He had plenty of money and he was free to go anywhere. He knew he was the big fish in this pond and that is why he had shied from the larger cities in the past. Why go where there was competition when he had it all here" To retire? He could, and nobody could say he was a failure.

Except himself. He did not want to run. Such as it was, Sierra Vista had become his home. It was going to be the ranger or himself. That was how it had to be. He removed a Storekeeper's Thunderer from his office safe and slid it into his suit where he could draw it with his left hand. It was a neat trick, one last ace up his sleeve, and he might need it if he was to outwit this ranger. In case the battle became prolonged he filled up a messenger's bag with cash and securities enough to bankroll any three counties. He wanted to be ready for any contingency.

Then he sat down at his desk to await word of the ranger's approach to the town.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 17:07 EST

Cody Wells was also thinking and wondering. There had been no word from Bud Hagan. He had not like leaving Bud alone at the entrance to the canyon. Since then he had received no word, and he was starting to get nervous. There is nothing worse that idle worry when you are helpless to do anything about a problem.

It was past the supper hour, and Cody left the jail to take another walk around town. There were strangers in town, drifting in one and two at a time. There was an uneasy feeling on the street and the deputy thought he knew what it was. These men must be waiting for the Arizona Ranger. That must mean he had made contact in Lost Canyon and then got away.

Clay went into a couple of bars and found them to be quiet. The small groups of customers had none of the gaiety and good-natured banter of cowboys fresh off the range. Their serious faces showed that they had an onerous chore facing them. Wells felt their eyes fall on his badge and then look away when they saw that it said Deputy instead of Arizona Ranger. Their orders were clear and they had no time to waste on him.

Outside an occasional strange face was sitting on a bench, apparently interested only in watching the world go by. When Cody would ask a question all he'd receive in return was a grunt. "These guys look like they're sitting alongside a deer trail, waiting for a big one," thought Wells. He knew that big one was Bud Hagan.

He went back to the marshal's office and started loading guns. He found a total of three shotguns and he loaded all three with buckshot. There was also an 1873 Winchester, and he stuffed it full with 44-40 shells. All the time he went about these chores he was thinking. How could he warn the Arizona Ranger of the danger that awaited him' He could see no way. He could not be sure of what approach Bud would take so he could not ride out and meet him. He would just have to be ready at the instant Hagan came into town.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 17:08 EST

The Arizona Ranger was slowly riding back to Sierra Vista. He had heard the outlaws talking and knew he had to be on the lookout for an ambush. He rode with his left hand holding the reins and his right one near the butt of his Colt.

At the approach to town he walked his horse. He tried to check every rooftop for possible snipers but saw none. Far up the board sidewalk he could see a few idle forms, and then from the porch of the jailhouse Cody waved his arm to Hagan's left side. Bud immediately turned and rode down an alley.

Out on the street those idle forms came to attention. What was going on here? One of them pulled his pistol and stepped out into the street, only to hear Cody's voice say, "Drop it right there. I've got you covered."

The man was a non-believer and he snapped off a shot at the deputy, but Cody nailed him with one shot from his Winchester. This started a small war in the little town of Sierra Vista. The outlaws concentrated on Cody, and he was forced to take cover in back of the corner of the sidewalk. Two more thugs started to rush him from a difficult angle and another rifle opened up down the street. The two men were forced back.

Cody looked back up the street, trying to find out where the rifle fire had come from. Finally he saw the curtain fluttering in the open window at the doctor's house. Sheriff Wes Smith was doing what he could to help.

From out of a saloon burst three outlaws. They came with guns blazing and they were able to find positions of safety on the street. Their fire was answered shot for shot but no harm came to either side.

Bud Hagan rode quickly up the length of the town on the backside of the buildings. Now he left his horse and went up an alley on foot. He eased his head around the corner and a bullet clipped the wood right above him! That shot had come from the bank! The ranger caught a glimpse of a white face at the bank window. J.D. himself! They had him backed into a corner and he was fighting for his freedom.

Two outlaws heard the commotion and turned their attention to him. He had to duck back as a hail of gunfire splintered the corner of the building. The two blasts from a shotgun boomed out and the outlaw guns were silent. Three quick shots from the other end of town showed that the fighting was wide spread. Bud looked out in front again and saw a man trying to creep up on the deputy. Hagan snapped off a shot but had no idea if he connected or not. The outlaw was not in sight, so the ranger must have been close enough to scare him, anyway.

From the end of the street came a clatter of hooves. On a beautiful black stallion rode J.D., and he was shouting, "Gang up, men. Follow me to the canyon!"

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 17:08 EST

With the call of "Gang up, men," J.D. Jones led the remaining outlaws on a gallop to the southern trail out of Sierra Vista. Soon all that was left was a haze of dust from their rapid departure. That and the dead and wounded outlaws that were lying in the street.

Ranger Bud Hagan jumped on his horse and trailed them for three miles - and then gave up. The reason was simple. An untold number of sheep had been herded up this road and then turned to the northwest. It was not an uncommon occurrence, for the sheep had to be moved frequently to keep them from eating the graze down to the roots and killing it.

It was possible that this was planned, but Bud deemed it doubtful. Cowboys did not like sheep, and the obvious background of all the outlaws he had seen was working cattle. Planned or not, the tracks of the sheep obliterated those of J.D. and his men. It would take a lot of riding to find where the crooks had gone.

Back in town he saddled up a fresh mount and Clay joined him.

"The locals said they would look after the town. They're all up in arms now that they know J.D. is the boss of the outlaws."

"I don't blame them. I would be, too," said Bud. "I heard them say they're going to the canyon. I wonder if they mean Lost Canyon' Only one way to find out. Let's ride over there."

The two rode south out of town, but once again they were interrupted. Two riders that Hagan recognized from the Applebee ranch were approaching.

"Hola, Senor Ranger, we have come in search of you. Miss Linda was raging like the tigre to come and see you, so her father said she might come if she brings six men with her. We came by the low route and we have seen the outlaw band. We came to find you while the others watch the place where they are."

"Gracious, Amigo, lead the way."

The four riders traveled hard, and met Linda and the other ranch hands a mile before a deep arroyo. Linda was quick to greet the ranger; then she him gave the news.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 17:09 EST

"It looks like a secondary hide-out up ahead. There must be a dozen men there."

Now the Arizona Ranger took charge. "Is there a rear way out of there" There is. Well then, you three men ride around and find a good place to cover that way. We'll give you plenty of time to get placed.

The rest of us will push right in on them. One thing, J.D. is in there, and if possible I want to take him alive. He has over twenty years worth of information that would solve a lot of cases if I can get it."

"But will he talk?" queried Linda. "I'll bet he just clams up."

"If I can shove enough facts in his face he might crack. They usually do when it gets to a certain point. One other thing, Linda, could you let down your hair? I worry enough about you without you being mistaken for a man." Hagan reddened as he realized what he had said. "Not that anybody could mistake you at close range, or at long range, for that matter...."

"You'd better quit while you're ahead," she responded. "But I get your point. A man out here won't shoot a woman. Most men, anyway."

"Right. Some of these outlaws might be so bad that they would do even that. So be careful. The other men should be in place, so let's go get 'em."

With their horses running abreast in a line they galloped toward the outlaw's retreat. They were nearly there before the first shots rang out. They rode even faster and when they were well within range their guns opened up like a burst of cannon fire. Two outlaws went down and the rest raced toward the rear of the arroyo. The ranger and his friends pushed after them, driving them to the guns lying in wait at the end.

All of a sudden Linda shouted and pointed. "Look, Bud. That looks like J.D. climbing up the side. I didn't think it was possible."

Sure enough, J.D. was driving the magnificent black up the slope. As they watched he jumped from the saddle and pulled at the reins to help the animal over the top.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 17:10 EST

Hagan didn't waste time thinking about following a direct route. That black must be just about winded after that climb and would have to be rested soon. The ranger headed back out by the trail with one of the rancher's fresh horses in tow. He cut south when he got out and could soon see a trail of dust ahead.

Within ten minutes Bud knew he was catching up. The black was a lot slower now. It was a shame. That was a grand animal, but Hagan knew that J.D. would run it to the death if it were to his advantage. At that moment the chase shifted from a ranger's duty to a personal duel. A feeling of disgust had come over Hagan upon seeing the treatment of the black.

They were nearing the western entrance of Lost Canyon. The ranger had gained so much ground that he could see the sides of the great horse working like bellows in his effort to gain air. He stumbled as they cleared the edge of the burned strip but managed to continue. After another two hundred yards he stumbled again and J.D. leaped from the saddle. He grasped the messenger bag and ran forward on foot. Hagan was within twenty yards when Jones stopped and turned toward him with his hands raised.

"Drop the case, J.D." The banker complied. "Now ease the right side of your coat open."

"Okay. I haven't got a gun."

The ranger's senses were jumping. This had been too easy. J.D.'s left hand flashed, and he was touching off his 41 Thunderer. The bullet was low and just grazed the inside foreleg of the ranger's horse, and instantly the animal was shaking his hooves at the sky. Hagan had to give it all his attention so he could not shoot back. The banker turned and ran on foot into Lost Canyon.

Hagan got his mount quieted, then left him with the other horse at the top of the canyon. A mounted man makes too good a target for a man on the ground. When he ran in the direction that Jones had gone he caught a glimpse of him running between two clumps of vegetation.

"J.D.! Hold it. You're caught so you might as well give up."

A bullet sailed by as an answer. Hagan still wanted him alive and did not shoot back. He just ran down the slope as fast as he could. Near the bottom another slug hit close by and he snapped off a round just to show that he was a force to be reckoned with. Cover to cover, with an occasional gunshot; this was how they made their way down the canyon. Jones was firing less, and Hagan figured the man was getting low on ammo.

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 17:10 EST

The ranger suddenly realized that J.D. was going to enter the tunnel in the rock. "J.D., don't go into the tunnel. It's a trap." He received no answer. He ran directly for the entrance to cut off the banker but he was too late. Fifty yards before him Jones entered the rock passageway. From a safe distance Hagan followed. He didn't want to bump into his enemy in the darkness of the tunnel.

When he stopped he could hear the footsteps of the banker. "Jones, turn back. The other end has a trap."

"Do you think I'm stupid?" yelled the banker. "Adios, Ranger."

"J.D., HOLD IT." Too late, for a thunderous roar echoed up the passage, the roar of the two barrels of the set gun going off when J.D. kicked the trip wire.

Gingerly Hagan went forward and found the carnage that was left of the banker. He would never learn anything from him now.

The ranger retraced his steps, retrieved his horses and rode back to see what had happened at the arroyo. Linda rode out to meet him and he filled her in on what had happened to J.D.

"That's too bad," she said. "After all that trouble you still don't get the answers."

"No, I guess I won't. Did you get any prisoners?"

"Three of them. They were scared of the banker and now they will tell you everything that they know."

"That's good news. I'm mighty curious as to what their mystery beast is."

"You won't believe it until you see it."

"You've seen it' Tell me."

She shook her head and laughed. "No, this you have to see for yourself."

Sortas · Date: 2007-02-13 17:11 EST

She led him down the trail and slowed down when they approached a corner. "Ease around here, now, and take a peek."

The ranger went forward and then began to chuckle. Looking back at his with a look of unconcern was a camel!

"A camel. No wonder nobody could identify it. Probably there aren't more that ten people out here that have ever seen a camel. Or even heard of one."

"I wonder where it came from."

"I think I know," said the ranger. "Back along about '57 Jeff Davis had the idea of importing camels to carry mail across the Southwest. In a way it worked, but other animals were scared of them and the drivers got seasick from the rocking gait. The War Between the States was getting near and the project sizzled. A lot of those animals were turned loose to fend for themselves. This must be one of them, or one of their offspring."

What are you going to do with him, Bud?"

"Not many creatures get to be legends in their own time. I'm going to let him go."

————————————————————————— ———————————————

From the rim the old prospector watched them and smiled. His beloved beasts. He liked to see them when he could. His name was Hadji Ali, and he had come with that first batch of camels in 1857. He had never missed his old home in Abu Dhabi, but he did miss the animals. Such grand animals. He hoped they would live long after he was gone.

The End

Topic: Tales of the Arizona Rangers

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas

Sortas