Gold on the Hoof Read online

  Gold on the Hoof

  Peter Grant

  Sedgefield Press

  Copyright © 2019 by Peter Grant. All rights reserved.

  * * *

  Cover image cropped from A Dash for the Timber

  by Frederic Sackrider Remington

  Cover design by Beaulistic Book Services

  * * *

  This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise – without prior written permission of the author and publisher, except as provided by copyright law in the United States of America.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

  This book is dedicated to my wife, Dorothy.

  She’s my strong right arm,

  and I rely on her support every day.

  Thanks, darling.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Books by Peter Grant

  1

  The hands gathered around the corral, exchanging quiet remarks as Jeb, the stablehand, saddled the big black bronc. The horse snorted and quivered, clearly wanting to rend limb from limb the puny human who dared to put so alien a burden on his back. However, he was securely held by the rope around his neck, pulling him tight against the snubbing post, and the blindfold over his eyes prevented him from seeing his tormentors.

  “You say he hurt Jaime real bad?” Walt asked as he studied the big mustang.

  “Si, señor,” Vicente, the leader of the band of mesteñeros, replied softly. “That horse is the toughest we’ve ever caught. I know our agreement is that we bring you only horses we have three-saddled, but this one… I thought about shooting him after he threw Jaime so hard, but then I realized you might want him as a stud stallion. His offspring can be tamed young and early, before they become too much like him. He is all heart, and determined to be free; but he is also a killer. Even so, I have seldom seen a horse this good.”

  “He’s not bad-looking, for sure. Still, Nate wants to wring him out. He reckons he can ride any horse ever foaled, so we’ll see if he’s right.”

  “You do not wish to try him yourself, señor?”

  Walt held up the steel hook on his left wrist. “Before this, I would have, but with only one hand, that’d be taking a foolish risk.”

  Vicente sighed. “I had not thought of that. You are right, señor Ames.”

  Nate Barger, Walt’s ranch manager, strode up to the corral and stepped through the bars. Crossing to the horse, he checked the bridle, reins and saddle cinch, then said, “All right, he’s ready. Leave the blindfold on, hobble him, and lead him to the dam.”

  The small crowd of onlookers followed as the big black stallion was led out of the gate by a rider. He did not struggle, having learned the futility of fighting a rope around his neck.

  Bringing up the rear, Walt said to Vicente, “You only brought a dozen horses. I’d expected a lot more.”

  “Señor, I am sorry to say it, but the herds of mustangs are not what they once were. Even worse, that is our fault – people like me.”

  “Huh? Seems to me there’s still plenty of wild horses out there.”

  “Yes, señor, but their quality is much poorer. For years, mesteñeros such as I have driven herds of wild horses into capture chutes, picked out the best to three-saddle and sell, then driven the culls out again. It would have been better for the rest of the mustangs if we had shot them. All the time we were taking the good breeding stock out of the herds, while the culls went on breeding more like themselves. Now, there are few really good mustangs left. Most are spavined, narrow-chested, cow-hocked, knock-kneed, pigeon-toed… all the things no buyer will accept. Where I used to capture two hundred or more good horses each trip, ten years ago, now I am lucky to find twenty to thirty. That means I must charge more for them if I wish to make a living, but few buyers will pay higher prices, because there are so many cheap cow ponies coming up from Texas. For buyers like you, who want quality stock, it is different; but few of the animals I capture today will meet your standards. I was lucky to find twelve for you.”

  Walt rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “When you put it like that, it makes sense. What’ll you do when it’s no longer worth going after the mustangs at all?”

  Vicente shrugged. “That time is very near. I shall try to make a living breeding better-quality horses, but it will be difficult, and I will not be able to keep all my men. Some of them may become vaqueros – what you call cowhands – or transport riders.”

  “Waal, as it happens, I may be able to help you there. Talk to me tomorrow morning. I may have work for you and some of your men through the winter.”

  Vicente nodded, a smile appearing on his face. “I shall, señor.”

  The dam was a fold of land some distance to the right of the buildings. It had been widened and deepened by convict labor during the summer. Walt had found that the prisoners, usually despised and distrusted by potential employers, had worked amazingly well after being assured that, for every week the work went well, he’d provide a full-on barbecue for them on Saturday night, with plenty of meat and all the trimmings. He’d also promised to pay each of them a bonus when the job was completed, instead of just paying the prison its labor rate. The dual incentives had persuaded them to work hard for him. The dirt they dug out had been used to construct a retaining wall, and a layer of clay had been laid in the dam bed. An irrigation pipe led from a stream in the hills, two miles away, to the rear of the dam, to keep it filled. An extension from the pipe led to a railroad-style water tower that supplied the compound’s buildings, leaving the dam water for irrigation and for animals.

  The onlookers gathered on the shore as Nate and the stablehand removed the hobbles, then led the stallion into the water. It snorted and trembled as it was led deeper, until the water was halfway up its body, covering the saddle’s stirrups. Nate waited until the rope had been removed, then clambered into the saddle, took up the reins, and settled himself. The horse quivered with fury as it felt the hated man-presence on its back; but, still blindfolded, it could do nothing but wait until it could see once more.

  “All right, Jeb. Pull off the blindfold and get the hell out of the way!”

  “Yessir!”

  There was an explosion of spray as the big stallion, vision suddenly regained, erupted into a series of high, straight bucking jumps, trying to dislodge the rider from its back. Jeb dived clear and half-ran, half-swam to the bank, where he was hauled out of the water by his friends. They watched in awe as the black crow-hopped, sunfished, and twisted its body in half-moons to left and right.

  Nate held on for dear life. The depth of the water prevented the horse from using its full strength and agility, so he was able to stay astride for a couple of minutes. However, the black managed to edge closer and closer to the bank, until its body was clear of the water. Suddenly it launched a high, straight buck, and wrenched its haunches hard to one side at the peak. Nate was thrown clear in a soaring arc, splashing into deeper water and disappearing beneath the
surface. The black whirled and tried to run clear of the dam, but was instantly lassoed by a waiting, mounted wrangler. Trembling, snorting, it halted just clear of the shallows, and stood still, panting and puffing with exertion.

  Nate surfaced, blowing water from his mouth and snorting, grinning broadly. “Yaaa-hooo! That’s a fightin’ hoss, I’ll tell a man! Blindfold him again, and lead him back into deeper water.”

  He was swiftly obeyed. He climbed back into the saddle, and the fight recommenced. The big horse crawfished, crowhopped, wormed and spun, but Nate held it in deeper water where its strength could not be fully exerted. For almost ten minutes it threw itself in all directions, but could not gain enough momentum to eject its rider from the saddle.

  At last it slowed, then stopped moving, standing still in the water, sides heaving. Nate slid from the saddle, standing chest-deep in the water, and moved slowly to the horse’s head, speaking in a soft, soothing tone, stroking its mane, then its nose. The animal clearly wasn’t happy with being touched like that, but it was too exhausted to do anything about it. Nate gentled it for a few moments, blowing lightly into its nostrils.

  At last he signaled to Jeb. “Put the blindfold back on, then lead him back to the paddock. Let him dry out in the sun, and make sure he’s got fresh hay and water. Put the saddle out to dry, too. We’ll do that again tomorrow morning. After a few days in the dam, he should have calmed down enough that we can try him on dry land.”

  “Yessir! What’re you gonna name him?”

  “That ain’t my call. Ask the boss.”

  The stablehand turned to Walt. “Boss?”

  “I don’t know yet, Jeb. I don’t even know if I’m going to buy him. Let me think on it.”

  “Aw, come on, boss! You gotta buy this one! He’s too good to let go!”

  “Not if his temper’s so bad that he takes it out on a rider, or a stablehand. How’d you like him rearing up and hammering those hooves into your head?”

  Jeb flinched visibly. “I guess I wouldn’t like that at all.”

  “Neither would we. Let’s see if Nate can break him to the saddle. That’ll help. Meanwhile, you move real careful around him, you hear? Make sure you’ve always got a way to get clear if he goes wild on you. Never let him pin you where there’s no way of escape, like a closed stall.”

  “Yes, sir! I’m gonna treat him like he was made o’ pure dynamite, with a blasting cap in each hoof!”

  Nate laughed. “Yeah – and one up his ass!”

  Laughing, the small crowd broke up, turning to head back to the ranch buildings.

  2

  As they walked past the barns, Walt peered towards a rider approaching the main gate. His face broke into a grin. “If that ain’t Jim Dunnett, I’ll eat my hat! Vicente, see to your other horses. I’ll dicker with you about them tomorrow morning. I’ve got to greet this man.”

  “Si, señor.”

  By the time the new arrival reached the gates, Walt and Nate had made it down to the administration building. Walt waved and called, “Hi, Jim! Must be almost half a year since we last saw each other.”

  The rider rode up and dismounted, grinning, offering his hand, which Walt shook firmly. “About that, I reckon.”

  “This long drink o’ water here is Nate Barger. He’s one of those who helped me take down Parsons and his men. He stayed on to be my manager here on the horse ranch. Nate, this is Jim Dunnett, the Colorado Ranger who helped us find Parsons.”

  “Howdy, Mr. Barger.” The two men shook hands.

  “Nate, please. I’ve heard a lot about you from Walt. I’m sure not more than half of it was true, though!” They chuckled.

  “Knowin’ him, it was less than half of a half! You’re all wet. What happened?”

  “Been breakin’ a new horse to the saddle, up at the dam. They can’t use all their strength in deep water – it slows ’em down. I reckon I’d better get some dry clothes on.” Nate nodded to Walt, then headed for his quarters.

  The visitor sniffed appreciatively, looking across at the fire pits where two whole oxen were turning on spits over coals. “Them beeves sure do smell good! What’re you celebratin’?”

  “We’ve got men arriving today. We started barbecuing two oxen yesterday evening. They should be ready by suppertime. You’re just in time to help eat ’em.” Walt indicated the grinning boys who were turning the carcasses on spits over beds of coals, basting them frequently with sauce. “Their sisters are helping their mommas get the rest of the food ready in the cookhouse.” He gestured to the central building behind them, which was bustling with activity.

  “You’ve built a nice place here,” Dunnett observed. “Got a bed for me tonight?”

  “For you, anytime. You can join Nate and I in the headquarters building. We have guest rooms. What brings you out here?”

  “You do. I’ve been hard at work tyin’ up all the loose ends you handed us over the Parsons affair. Turned out to be a whole lot more complicated than anyone expected. You did me a helluva favor when you brought back all that evidence and gave it to me.”

  “I did?”

  “Yeah. First off, after sortin’ through all the title deeds, bearer share companies an’ other papers, the Territory’s recovered more than a quarter of a million dollars through sellin’ off all Parsons’ stolen property.”

  Walt whistled. “That’s a whole lot more than I figured.” This horse ranch had been established on another of Parson’s former properties, more than sixteen square miles of the Wet Mountain Valley, after Dunnett had given his blessing. Since Walt had spent upwards of twenty thousand dollars of his own money to get Parsons, the Ranger had reckoned he’d earned it as compensation. “Did they let you keep any of the money?”

  “Ha! No chance o’ that! It did me a power o’ good in another way, though.” Dunnett glanced at Walt. “Remember that big ledger you gave me, with details of everyone Parsons had bribed or blackmailed for information?”

  “Yeah. I reckoned it oughta come in useful.”

  “It sure did. Thing is, after what happened to the first batch o’ papers you handed over, I figured it’d be smart to keep the ledger safe.” Both men frowned at the memory of how Parsons had used his political connections to shut down Dunnett’s initial investigation, and confiscate and destroy the evidence Walt had provided. “I had the ledger copied, and handed in the copy, keepin’ the original. I got it here in my saddlebags for you.”

  “And did anyone try to interfere with it?”

  “Oh, hell, yeah! I had politicians crawling out o’ the woodwork, running scared in all directions. I wasn’t allowed t’ file charges against ’em, although some clerks an’ bureaucrats got busted. Thing is, they knew they couldn’t just make the ledger ‘disappear’. I ended up havin’ a private interview with someone important, who I ain’t allowed to name. He told me straight up that he couldn’t act against everyone I’d identified, ’cause it would cripple the Territorial government. It might even affect our chances o’ becomin’ a state soon. Even so, he said he was sorry he couldn’t turn me loose on ’em. We made a deal. I gave him enough to seize an’ auction off the rest o’ Parsons’ properties. He saw to it that all the money went into the Territory’s account, rather than get stolen all over again. I double-checked, to make sure he did.”

  “An’ what did he give you?” Walt asked.

  Dunnett grinned, and flipped back his vest to expose the badge pinned to his shirt over his left chest. Last year, it had been a star within a shield, labeled simply ‘Colorado Ranger’. It was now a six-pointed silver star, with the words ‘Deputy’ and ‘U.S. Marshal’ inscribed, respectively, above and below central text reading ‘Colorado Territory’.

  “You’re a U.S. Marshal now?” Walt exclaimed. “How’d you fix that, movin’ from Territorial to Federal law?”

  “The man I talked to sent me to see the Territorial U.S. Attorney. He got real interested. Told me the federal government’s plannin’ to go after corrupt Territorial officials across
the West, an’ the evidence you an’ I got between us might help ’em do it. Don’t talk about that to anyone else – not yet, anyway.” Walt nodded. “Y’see, the federal gummint can do things that’d be political suicide for a territorial Governor, an’ that’s just what they’re fixin’ to do. Upshot was, I resigned as a Ranger, an’ took both copies of the ledger with me. I started work as a Deputy U.S. Marshal the very next day. Got a nice pay raise, too, which didn’t hurt none. Gave my new boss the copy of the ledger, and brought the original back here to you.”

  “Why me? I can’t do anything useful with it.”

  “Not right now, maybe, but by killing Parsons and busting up his criminal network, you exposed a lot of politicians an’ businessmen who ain’t got any reason to like you. They may make things difficult for you in future. If anyone does, look up his name in Parsons’ ledger, and see what you find. If he’s mentioned there, he might back off if you tell him about it.”

  Walt grinned. “If you weren’t such an honest lawman, I’d reckon you’d been taking lessons from Parsons’ ghost about how to handle politicians! I’ll be sure to do that. Come on. Let’s put your horse in the stables, then I’ll take you to the guest room.”

  Jim led his horse after Walt, looking around with interest. The ranch buildings formed a deep U shape. At the base was the big central building, housing the cookhouse, dining hall, living quarters for the kitchen staff, and general storerooms. A big bathhouse, with a lean-to structure containing a boiler, occupied one end. To the left stood a long bunkhouse, able to accommodate up to fifty men, divided into four sections. It was matched on the other side of the U by an equally long building containing the ranch offices, residential apartments for Walt and Nate, an armory, and several more storerooms. Three big horse barns stood behind the U, each with a hay barn attached, and a blacksmith’s forge and leatherworker’s shop beside them. Corrals stood on either side, with sheds, open at the sides, protecting wagons, horse-drawn mowers, and several large stacks of firewood against the elements. Worker’s cottages had been erected nearby, and tents were pitched in a row beyond them.