The Trail to Perdition

"Take it easy you big baby," Tom said to his horse as he fed and watered the animal. "You gotta learn to be patient and not go chargin off like a whirl wind all the time. Timmons doesn't know the country or how to hide his trail. We'll spot him tomorrow morning and then you can run his horse down." He patted the big Appaloosa fondly. "Ain't a horse in the territory that can best you in a long go. We'll have him before mid day."

Tom used his saddle as a back rest and his long duster as a cover. He quickly fell into a light sleep, waking a couple of times during the night at the sound some animal made. At first light he drank some water, ate another piece of jerky and watered Cochise. Within twenty minutes he mounted and continued on Timmons's trail.

An hour later Tom and Cochise topped a small rise. "There he is," Tom said with satisfaction.

In the distance on a ridge line Timmons was pushing his horse hard. He'd seen Tom too.

"Okay, go get him," Tom said aloud. He nudged his Cochise in the flank, sat back in the saddle, and gave the horse its head. In four or five strides Cochise was at a full gallop. Tom was alert and watched the landscape but sat easy and rocked with the motion of the gallop. We'll catch him in no more than an hour, he thought.

Other than a few rises and some small hills the country was flat with lots of mesquite, sage brush, and creosote bushes. It was a dry and arid landscape with few water holes and no real trees except for an occasional Palo Verde. The only inhabitants were lizards and rattlesnakes; even the prairie dogs shunned the area.

They came up out of a shallow arroyo and spotted Timmins no more than two hundred yards in front of them. Cochise bellowed out a challenge to the other horse and increased his speed. It seemed like the big horse was saying 'how dare you run from me' to the other horse.

Down into another arroyo and out again and they had closed the distance by half. Now Tom could see Timmins looking back over his shoulder. He could see the man's wide open eyes and the grimace on his face. Timmins knew he couldn't out run the deputy and his big horse.

Their path led around a small rock butt. As Timmins came abreast of some fallen rocks, he sawed on the reins and jumped off his horse. He took shelter behind one of the bigger boulders and fired his rifle back at Tom and Cochise. Tom quickly pulled Cochise to a halt and took cover behind a stand of mesquite trees.

"Give it up Timmins," Tom yelled. "You can't outrun me, my horse is better than yours; I've got food and water so you can't outlast me. Best thing you can do is give it up. No need for anyone to die today."

"If I go back, they'll hang me," Timmins shouted in reply.

"That's not set in stone Rafe. The clerks gonna be okay so it ain't murder. You'll have to go to prison but at least you'll be alive."

"I'll still be alive when I get away from you."

"You're not getting away from me Timmins. You're going back with me; on your saddle or tied across it, but you are going back."

Timmins didn't respond. At least he's not shootin," Tom thought.

"C'mon Rafe, it's too damn hot to sit out here," Tom said in a calm voice. "Throw out your rifle and let's head back. We'll make camp later. I've got food and water enough for both of us."

Tom had been creeping closer to Timmins' hiding place as they talked. He was behind another of the big rocks about twenty yards from the outlaw. He stood up and walked forward as Timmins threw his rifle over the big rock to the ground.

Timmins waited until Tom got several feet away from the rocks, pulled his pistol, and shot the deputy. He stood to watch Tom go down. It wasn't a smart move.

Tom had been hit in the side and spun half way around from the bite of the .45, but as Timmins stood Tom pulled his own pistol and fired back. He was a better shot than Timmins; he hit the bank robber in the left eye. Timmins fell and didn't move. He would never move again.

Lifting his shirt, Tom examined his wound. The bullet had passed though his right side just under the skin. It wasn't a wound that would kill him but he needed to stop the bleeding before he passed out. Tom walked back to his horse and got an extra shirt out of his saddlebag. He used his canteen to wash the area and picked a broad, leaf like spine from an Aloe plant. Tom squeezed the sap out of the plant and rubbed it on the wound. Then he made a bandage out of the shirt tying it around his waist.

Tom walked over, grabbed the reins of Timmins' horse, and led the animal back to the body. Grunting from the effort he put Timmins' body across his saddle. He put the ground cloth from the bedroll over the body and tied it to the saddle. Tom gave water to both horses being careful that they didn't drink too much. Then he mounted Cochise, turned his head back toward Tucson and kicked the horse into an easy lope that the horse could maintain for hours.

Got to ride and keep riding before I stiffen up," he told himself. If I don't keep movin I won't be able to ride at all. Stopping a few times to water the horses, Tom rode almost nonstop back to Tucson. He pulled Cochise to a halt in front of the Marshal's office.

"Hey Ted, give me a hand," Tom yelled.

Ted opened the door to see Tom swaying in the saddle with bloody cloth on his right side. He quickly stepped over and took the lead rope of the horse carrying the dead man and tied it to the hitching rail. Ted turned to help Tom just in time to catch him as he fell out of the saddle.

Holding Tom by his shoulders, Ted looked up and saw the barber at his front door across the alley way. "Jimmy get the doctor for Tom. He's been shot." Jimmy nodded and as he turned Ted added, "On the way back you ought to tell Sam Johnson to come by too."

The doctor patched Tom up and told him to stay off his feet for three days and to take it easy for the next ten. "Then you can go back to work, but no long rides," the doctor ordered. "Let Ted make the trips out of town for a couple of weeks."

Tom had told the Marshal what had happened when he caught Timmins. "I would have brought him back if he'd let me," Tom said. "He out smarted me. I didn't think he had a sidearm and got careless I guess. It won't happen again." The last words were said with hard, cold conviction in his voice.

The incident changed Tom Boone. He would still give rustler's, bandits, and horse thieves the chance to drop their guns and give up but he never again tried to talk a man into coming back. It was drop you guns or use them. All that tried to use them, died on the spot. Those that had the good sense to surrender were treated decently.

In one instant Tom shot and killed a man and his two sons. They had been rustling cattle and graduated to robbing the Wells Fargo stage coach. That was when Deputy Tom Boone got on their trail. When Tom caught up with the bandits in Sahuarita, the old man pulled his pistol and his two sons followed his example. It was an action that cost them their lives. Quicker that it took for the witnesses to tell about it, the man and his two sons lay dead in the street of the little village.

Tom didn't always shoot the men he went after. Several times the outlaws realizing who was on their trail would drop their weapons, put their hands over their heads and give up. As one man said, "I may go to jail or prison but I'll still be alive. I wouldn't be if I drew down on Deputy Boone."

These stories and others made the rounds and Tom got a reputation as a man and a Deputy Marshal not to fool around with. The common wisdom was "do what Boone told you or die". One other story was also told around campfires and in saloons.

One Billy Boy Jackson fancied himself as another Billy the Kid of the Lincoln County Wars fame. Jackson shot a man that refused to give up his horse. The man's wife stepped off the boardwalk yelling at Jackson; he shot her too. Looking at several bystanders, he calmly mounted the dead man's horse and rode away.

Tom Boone was sent after Jackson. Billy Boy had a two day head start and made it to a border town called Casa Piedra. Thanks to Cochise Tom had closed the gap and as he rode into the little village he saw Jackson pass the border marker and cross into Mexico. About fifty yards after he crossed the border Billy Boy turned to taunt the Deputy.

Pulling Cochise to a stop just a few feet on the U.S. side of the border, Tom pulled his Winchester. "Come back to this side Jackson," Tom yelled an order.

"The devil with you Deputy," Jackson responded. "You can't touch me now that I'm in Mexico."

"I'll warn you one last time Billy, come back," Tom repeated.

"Go to hell Boone," Jackson yelled back.

Tom pulled back the hammer on the Winchester, put it to his shoulder, and shot Billy Boy Jackson right between the eyes. He calmly worked the lever action to put another shell in the chamber, let the hammer down and put the rifle back into the saddle scabbard. Tom turned Cochise back along the trail to Tucson.

McCoy understood Tom's thinking and didn't say anything to his young deputy. Fact is, I'd a probably crossed into Mexico after Jackson, he thought. Tom just saved a lot of trouble with the U.S. and Mexican governments.

"Did you really shoot that man after he'd crossed into Mexico? Etta Bronson asked as she and Tom took a buggy ride the day after he'd returned from tracking Jackson.

Tom Boone had met the new school teacher, Etta Bronson, when her horse got away from her. He caught the animal and led it back to her. Tom handed her the reins, nodded his head, tipped his hat and turned to leave.

"Thank you Deputy Boone," Etta said. "I'm Etta Bronson."

"Yes em, I know," Tom replied. "I've seen you around town."

"Were you following me?" She teased. Seeing that she had embarrassed him Etta quickly said, "I'm sorry. I was just teasing you. After you caught this danged animal I shouldn't embarrass you."

"Didn't embarrass me ma'am," Tom said. It wasn't the truth but he didn't want to embarrass Etta either. "Matter of a fact, I asked Marshal McCoy about you."

"Now that's funny. I asked him about you too." Etta smiled and said, "I supposed we should talk to each other instead of other people."

Etta was a 26 year old schoolteacher. She came from Texas to get a new start and to leave behind bad memories. Rumor had it Etta had been engaged to the son of a wealthy rancher. His parents didn't like Etta, thought she was a gold digger, and they put pressure on their son to break off the engagement. When her fiancé wanted to postpone the wedding, Etta threw his ring in his face and came west to Arizona. She'd been in Tucson for two months but hadn't shown an interest in any man during that time but Deputy Tom Boone sort of drew her to him. Etta didn't know why, but she felt she wanted to get to know the young deputy better.

For Tom's part he'd watched Etta walk the streets of Tucson from her first day in town. He of course noticed that she was a very pretty woman but it was more than her looks that caught his interest. She's about 5'6, slender but looks strong, he thought as he watched her walk from store to store. The first time he saw her up close he saw Etta's cornflower blue eyes. Her strawberry blond hair hung down her back almost to her waist and bounced from side to side as she walked.

Over the next few days Tom saw Etta several times. He was in the general mercantile when she came in one morning. Tom watched and listened to her for a couple of minutes as she talked with the clerk. When Etta left and went toward the livery, he watched her for a minute or so. Tom started back to his office having forgotten what he'd intended to buy.

As he neared the office he heard Etta yelling at her runaway horse. That was the morning they finally met. That runaway was surely good luck, Tom thought at the time.

"Yes I did," Tom replied to her question as he pulled the buggy to a halt on a rise. "I didn't want Jackson to shoot another man and wife so I stopped him."

"Was that legal? Will you get into some kind of trouble?" Etta was concerned for him.

"Don't really know about legal. Book says you can do what's needed to catch a criminal." Tom gave her a hard little smile. "I did what was needed; the rest of it don't bother me none."

Etta took Tom's hand, one of the few times she had done so, and said, "I'm glad Jackson won't be able to kill again. I feel much safer."

It was the do gooder pastor of one of the local churches that raised an objection to Tom's handling of Billy Boy Jackson. "You executed that poor man without so much as a fair trial," Pastor Jinks said to Tom.

"That poor man shot and killed a man to steal his horse," Tom responded in a cold voice. "Then he killed the man's wife for havin the nerve to yell at him about it." He gave the Pastor a hard look. "We put down sick animals and Jackson was a rabid dog. Good riddance I say."

"Vengeance is mine sayeth The Lord," Pastor Jinks quoted.

"An eye for an eye," Tom quoted right back. "Pastor, you're not my boss and you're not God. So until you're one or the other I suggest you get out of my way." He pushed past the Pastor and entered the Marshal's office.

A week after bringing Jenson Stoolie back, Tom decided that he and Cochise needed a rest. They'd been on a trail almost every week for the last three months.

"Need to take some time," Tom told McCoy the next morning. "Cochise is tired and so am I."

"Where you headed?"

"Remember when I got those horses back for Senor Otero over to Tubac? Well he invited me to come to his ranch and spend a few days with him and his family. Think I'll head down there. Maybe do some fishing in the Santa Cruz River." Tom laughed. "Ain't been fishing since I was a boy back in Missouri."

"Well have a good time. You deserve some rest," McCoy said and shook Tom's hand. "Hope to get the okay to hire another deputy next month. Make things a mite easier on both of us."

Tom was sitting on the patio with Otero and his family on his third evening at the ranch. A rider came into the yard in front of the hacienda at a high gallop.

"Deputy, you're needed back in Tucson," the rider said. "Raiders hit the bank and killed some people yesterday. Marshal McCoy said for you to get back as fast as you can." The man stepped down as one of Otero's vaqueros brought him some water and took his horse to water him. "Deputy, they took Etta Bronson with them."

The man stepped back when he saw the look that came over Tom's face. Even Senor Otero saw the change in his guest. Tom turned to Otero.

"Gracias for your hospitality Senor. You have been very kind but I must return to Tucson, as you heard. Would you extend your hospitality to this man? He's come a long way at a hard ride. Both he and his horse need to rest."

"Of course Senor Boone," Otero replied. Turning to the rider he said, "My house is yours Senor for as long as you need to stay."

Tom went to the stable and saddled his horse, wishing he had ridden Cochise. He'd left the Appaloosa at the livery stable so the big horse could be pampered for a few days. The full moon, often called a Hunter's Moon, gave plenty of light to ride. Tom didn't wait for daylight but mounted, waved at the Otero's and put his animal into the same ground covering lope that he used when running down outlaws. It was near 40 miles back to Tucson and Tom arrived at the Marshal's office just before noon. He'd ridden through the night only stopping to rest his horse three times.

McCoy looked up as Tom stomped into the office. He watched as Tom took his coach gun from the gun rack on the wall. Tom got a couple of boxes of ammunition for his Remington, the Winchester, and for the scatter gun.

"What happened?" Tom asked as he made preparations to go after the outlaws.

"Group came into town in ones or two, I reckon," McCoy answered. "Least ways no one noticed a gang ridin in. They robbed the bank and shot a teller that sassed them; they shot another man out on the street that raised the alarm." McCoy hesitated. "This is the hard part Tom, they took Etta. She was just at the edge of town, coming back from a ride; they grabbed her up and took her with them. Pulled her off her horse and rode away toward the west.

"We know who they are?"

McCoy nodded. "It was Texas Jack Billings and his Comancheros. Recognized him from the last time he came through here and from the wanted posters."

Tom's face got a hard look and his eyes were cold and lifeless when he looked at McCoy. "I should have killed that son of a bitch when I was on his trail."

Young Jamie Stone, a boy of fourteen, was sweeping the boardwalk in front of the office. Tom stepped to the door.

"Jamie, run over to the mercantile and tell Jacob I need trail supplies for four or five days. I'll stop by on my way out of town," Tom ordered. "Tell him to hurry." Turning back to McCoy he said, "I'm going to the livery to saddle Cochise, be back in a few minutes."

"Tom, wait a bit," McCoy suggested. "Let me put together a posse to go with you."

"A posse of store keepers, bank tellers, bartenders, and clerks wouldn't stand a snowball's chance in Hell against Texas Jack."

"Neither can one man," McCoy replied. "I can't leave until the Sheriff gets back from Phoenix. Can't leave the town with no law. Sheriff will be back tomorrow or the next day; we'll put together a posse and leave then. It'd be better if you waited until we can go in force. I can get a troop of cavalry from over to Fort Lowell in a day or two."

Tom sighed and said, "I can't wait; they've already got a two day lead on me. I need to get going." Tom turned to walk to the door.

"I could order you to wait," McCoy said. "You're the deputy, I'm the Marshal."

Tom walked back to McCoy's desk, pulled his Deputy Marshal's star off his shirt and tossed it down in front of McCoy.

"Ted, I quit," he said and turned to leave.

McCoy waited until he got about half way to the door. "Tom," he called. When Tom turned around, McCoy tossed the badge back to him. "If you're gonna be a damn fool, you might as well be legal."

Tom caught the star, pinned it back on, nodded, and left the office. By the time he got to the livery stable, Cochise was saddled and waiting just inside the barn. Ethan Smith, the stable master, came from the back as Tom put his Winchester and the coach gun into their scabbards.

"Figured you'd be headin out," Ethan said. "Loaded your trail supplies, I knew you wouldn't wait for no posse so I thought I'd save you a little time."

Tom nodded his thanks, checked the saddle cinch, and mounted. He nodded again and put Cochise into a trot. When he got to the edge of town, Justin Wren and John Templar sat on their horses waiting for him.

"Reckon it's a good day for a ride," Justin said.

"Thought we'd ride along with you for a spell," John added.

In spite of the anger at the Comancheros, Tom couldn't help but smile. "Ain't gonna be a picnic. We'll be outnumbered three, four to one, maybe more. What's Theresa think about you going Justin?"

"Hell, I'd of stayed at home gettin fat and sassy but that woman of mine said I should go with you." Justin gave a little laugh and added, "It was more like an order than a suggestion."

"Riding guard ain't been as enjoyable since you've been gone Tom," John said. "The new guard Seager hired don't know one blamed thing about Texas. Besides, I'll be damned if I'll let you go off and have all the fun."

Tom started to argue about them going but Justin spoke first. "We're burnin daylight. Let's ride." He and John turned their horses and rode west. Tom shook his head, smiled again, and rode after them.

They cut Billings trail about a mile outside of town; Tom counted sixteen horses and about a dozen head of cattle. A trail that big was easy to spot so they kicked their horses into a lope and followed.