Lou Silt Read online

  LOU SILT

  A TALE OF THE OLD WEST

  Also by Steve Shadow Sin-Ema

  On The Grift Stumbling Through Wilted Streets

  LOU SILT

  A TALE OF THE OLD WEST

  BY

  STEVE SHADOW

  A SHADOW PRESS BOOK © Steve Shadow 2014

  Cover by Vince Larue

  (

  www.vincelarue.blogspot.fr)

  Book designed by Ariel Amsden ([email protected])

  Published by Shadow Press All Rights Reserved

  DEDICATION

  To A. B. Guthrie Jr, who lit a fire in my soul for the old west that still smolders

  To the Dogo To the small but supportive Phoenix area writing community that meets each month at the Poisoned Pen Bookstore. A special big thanks to Scott McDonald, Charles Kelly, Jim Thane, Kurt Reichenbaugh and Patrick Millikin

  And finally to my first and best reader, my wife Angela, who everyday teaches me the meaning of the fierce nature of love.

  PART ONE

  LOST PATH

  CHAPTER ONE I sat sideways to the swinging doors. My eyes were on my cards and on the entrance. I was jumpy as all get out. I knew they were coming as sure as I knew I was playing with cheaters.

  I threw down my cards, stood up and pulled my .44 out of my waistband. “I warned you bunch of heathen scum about tryin’ to cheat me. Now fess up to whose palming the cards or, by God, I’ll put a hole in all three of you.”

  The bar room became quiet as the three cow hands I was playing with scraped back from the table with their hands in the air. The drinkers, the gamblers and the soiled doves that worked out back slipped to the side of the room.

  “Hell, Lou,” said Billy Boyce, a short and dumpy but genial fellow. “No one is cheatin’, why you acting so strange tonight?”

  The other two cowhands kept edging away from the table. None of them were armed. I heard the hinges on the swinging doors squeak and swung around to see the Larue brothers, Josephus and Haydn standing in the doorway. They were wearing heavy coats and carrying scatter guns.

  “We come for you Silt. No one murders our kin and lives.”

  I spun around while fanning the hammer I spun around while fanning the hammer 40 bullets into them and then tossed it aside as I leapt forward. I got my Bowie knife out as I rushed at Haydn. He was bad wounded and I got my arm around his head and turned him to face his staggering brother. I pushed him forward while bringing the huge blade across his neck. Blood sprayed out drenching Josephus as he tried to stay erect while fighting off the effects of my bullets. I threw Haydn onto him. I kicked Josephus’ shotgun aside and stomped on his head. I did not know if he was dead or alive. I turned to the room while yanking my doublebarreled derringer out of my boot. The three ranch hands had run out the back; everyone else stood in silence. Al Berg, the saloon owner, leaned over the bar with his shotgun, scanning the crowd for movement. He was an old friend of Pappy’s and like an uncle to me. The smell of gunpowder lingered in the smoke-filled air. The sudden quiet seemed like a heavy weight. All I could hear was my own raspy breath.

  “Put it up, Al,” I said. “I believe this conflagration is at an end. Send someone over to Doc Tallis and tell him he has some business to attend to. The rest of you get back to losin’ money and drinkin’. Claude, start playin’ that piano.”

  I got a couple of locals to help me drag the Larue boys outside. Josephus was still breathing. I guess that thick buffalo coat he was wearing helped him to survive the lead I had thrown his way. Haydn lay in a pool of blood with his head barely attached to his body. He was not a pretty looking corpse.

  Violett, the Black Dog’s hostess and singer and the girl I was sweet on, climbed down from the piano and came out to my side. “Oh my, Lou,” she said. “What have you gone and done now? Those Larue boys got a lot of kin up that mountain. Weren’t killing one of them enough for you?”

  “I had no choice, Violett. They come a gunning and it was them or me. Sure I killed their little cousin, Rafe, but he was a varmint and he had it coming. When he could not have the girl he wanted, he went after the first one he saw. He had tried to violate that little girl and meant to do her more harm. If he had come along quietly I would not have had cause to shoot him. But he was a nasty little piece of shit like all them Larue boys. Don’t you worry about me.

  My breathing had returned to normal. We stood in the twilight as the air cooled and the crimson hills glowed in the distance. I was reloading my Colt when Doc Tallis came shambling down the wooden walk with his black bag. Doc had been the physician here since I was a boy. He never seemed to change. He always looked old and worn. His glasses hung off his nose and he had a slight stoop. He was bald except for bushy sideburns. His face was creased and often red. He long ago seemed resigned to human folly and took all our ills and sinning in stride. He and his wife, Miss Camille had lost a child to fever long ago and they never seemed to have gotten over it. Meanwhile Josephus was wheezing and looking none too good.

  “Well, what have we here? More of your handy work I assume.” Doc took a quick glance at what was left of Haydn and then bent down and lifted Josephus’ huge head. “We need to get him to my office as quickly as we can. He is in a bad way and I need to get these clothes off him and inspect the damage. Get some of those men inside to carry them both to my office.”

  I tipped my hat to Violett and did as the Doc asked. We got Josephus to Doc’s and he set to work. His wife and nurse, Miss Camille, shooed us out the door.

  “Thanks for your help, men,” Doc said, as we all filed out of his office.

  I told the Doc to keep me informed on his patient’s condition. I then turned to my bearers. “Come back to the Black Dog, boys, and I’ll buy you all a drink.” That brought a smile and a cheer from the men. They either did not know the Larue’s or had little regard for them. We set off for the saloon. I however was not in a drinking mood. I knew this was just the start of something that would bring us all to a dark place.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Black Dog had settled down from the shooting and the evening returned to normal. Frenchy Claude played the piano and Violett was perched atop it singing songs that only she knew. Coming from back east she had wanted to sing in the opera and brought music with her that she shared with Claude. On some nights she regaled us with songs from French or Italian operas. It weren’t the usual kind of bar room tunes but her voice was so sweet that everyone liked them anyway. The gambling, having been interrupted by the gunfire, continued apace. Shootings in Lost Path were a fairly common occurrence and not taken to heart unless you happened to be the one involved. I sat in one corner eyeing the crowd. This marshalling job was becoming a worrisome thing. I had never meant to be a lawman. It just seemed that after my pappy, Big Bill Silt was murdered by the mine owners and I run them out of town minus a few of their regulators, I ended up with a badge on my vest.

  Lost Path, Montana Territory was a rough and tumble place but had been my home since I was a tadpole. Big Bill Silt was the rock man for the mines. He got in trouble with them owners when he spoke up against the abuse they was piling on the miners. They thought they could shut him up with a few threats and some hired gun hands but they did not figure on the kind of grit my old pappy was made of. I was only 18 at the time. I was out cowboyin’ all over the West when I heard about the trouble back home. I lit out for Lost Path but got there a might too late and Pappy was already dead.

  With the help of some old pards of his and considerable time and effort, we cleaned out them owners and sent them packing. After awhile what was left of the town asked me to be the law and I agreed. Despite and because of my youth, I did not realize all the little things a marshal was asked to do. But I liked being in town and was tired of the endless trail and mo
therin’ all them beeves. Plus I had gotten real sweet on Violett. She was a woman with a past and was some years older than me but one look at them big brown eyes and I was smitten. Al Berg had brought her to our town in an attempt to put a little first class presence in his saloon. Al knew that with a chance of the railroad coming our way this might bring a lot of prosperity to Lost Path and he wanted to be ready. She and I took up right off and although we were living in sin, no one seemed to mind. I do believe she was waiting for me to make an honest woman out of her but I was not quite ready for that.

  New people from Scotland came in and reopened the mine so the town was doin’ all right. It was a nice life for awhile and then the ruckus between the Larues and the town set in. What had begun as a dispute over a couple of elk and a love sick young girl would lead to bloodshed and a chain of events none of us ever saw coming nor could ever have imagined. It all happened this way.

  CHAPTER THREE

  When we were youngsters, me and Hitch, my pal, was always getting in scrapes with them Larues whenever they come to town. Mostly they all stayed up the mountain with their kin. They only come into town for goods. They was always lookin’ for trouble and we aimed to oblige them. My pappy said they was no account trash from the old south. They surely was a nasty lot. The whole passel of them was led by fat old Dorcus. Her man was head of them all but when he died after a bear ate on him, she took over the reins. We was always getting in fights with the youngun’s until Old Dorcus stopped it. I really had not given them much thought for years. I had asked around about them after the ruckus with the mine and Pappy’s funeral. It seems Dorcus was still alive and ruled with a firm hand but she was getting on. No one in town had seen her for years but her kin said she was still in charge up there. I had no idea how many of them Larue’s was around. But like I said, they caused no trouble until earlier in the year.

  It was near the end of a long winter and the cold, hard winds had softened a bit. Spring was due any moment now. I was passing a pleasant afternoon with Hitch, drinking whiskey and planning a hunting trip when two local muleskinners came through the door of my office in the jailhouse.

  “Hey, Lou,” Jess Waldo said. “We got us a problem.” The other man, who I only knew as Busy nodded in agreement.

  “What seems to be troubling you boys?” I said.

  “Well, we was out huntin’ for elk and we got us two fine bucks. We was set to start skinnin’ when 3 of the Larue boys come up. It was Josephus, Haydn, and that little bastard Rafe.

  We had run across them before but never had no problem. They told us we were on Larue land and had no right to them elk. They said the elk was for them and we better clear out. They was sittin’ astride them big pony’s of theirs and holdin’ shotguns. We argued with them but I could tell we was not goin’ to come out of those mountains in one piece.”

  “Yup,” Busy said. “That there is what happened. I was rightly terrified, them is no people to fool with.”

  Jess strode up to my desk. “Lou, you got to do something about this. They don’t own the mountains. Them elks was ours.”

  “OK, boys, calm down. I will surely look into it. I been thinkin’ on them Larue’s some. They have been trouble for as long as I can remember.” I looked at Hitch. “What do you know about that misbegotten clan and what they been up to?”

  He hesitated and then answered me in a worrisome tone. “Not much. I do not often have truck with them, what with them considerin’ me a redskin varmint, and all.”

  “Oh yes, I forgot what a heathen savage you are.” We all laughed. “Hell, anyone can see by that red hair and those blue eyes what an Injun’ devil you are.”

  Hitch’s family had been murdered by Injun’s and he had been kidnapped and then sold to the Crow’s. He was held captive for 10 years. He was rescued during an army raid. He had been adopted by a local family here in Lost Path. Some ignorant people still held his Injun ways against him. He had to relearn white ways and white language. As a youth he worked in the stable and was always told to “hitch ‘em up, boy.” That’s how he got his name. His real name is Lucius Weedle and he told me his Injun name is Sun That Rises, due to his red hair. A lot of people did not take to him because of his past but we ran together as boys and I trusted him with my life. While he had no badge, he was a sort of unofficial deputy. When we did have dealings with the Injuns he was valuable for knowing their ways and could palaver with them in their own lingo.

  I turned back to Jess and Busy. “I will let you know what I find out. Time I paid a visit to that clan and find out what the hell is going on up there. It has been a long time since I laid eyes on Old Dorcus.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  In the morning I got to the stable early. The sun was just peeking out and the air was cold and crisp. Spring was on its way but taking its own sweet time. Up north here the weather was always tricky and we could still be in for a snowfall. I got my mare, Bella, out of her stall and was preparing to saddle her up when in walked Hitch. He was dressed for traveling, what with his slicker and shotgun.

  “Hey, Lou,” he said. “Are you still fixin’ to head up to see the Larues?”

  “Yup, no time like the now. I want to see what is goin’ on up there and have a pow-wow with Old Dorcas.”

  “I guess I better come along,” he said between guffaws. “Seein’ as I got all the real experience when it comes to powwows. No telling what you might run into out there.”

  “Hell Hitch, I’m only going up for a talk. Don’t expect any trouble. Besides I don’t reckon you are too popular with them men up there.”

  “The hell with them and their high fallutin’ ways, they are just a bunch of

  backwoods mountain folk with no learning and fewer teeth.”

  “Well, well,” I grinned. “Look who got up this fine morning gunning for bear. If you want to come along, I could use the company. Get your gear and saddle up.”

  I cinched up Bella, slipped my new Winchester repeating rifle into its scabbard and hooked a full canteen over the pommel. I swung up onto her and rode slowly outside. I walked her around the corral until Hitch was ready. He sat astride a large gelding wearing his old bowler hat. I found his headgear to be quite comical but he thought it looked just fine. I had a pouch of pemmican and handed him a stick to gnaw on as we set off for the mountains.

  As we rode across the open prairie the sun rose at our backs. You could feel spring in the chilled air. Game tracks were everywhere but barely visible in the morning mist. The

  mountains ahead glowed from the sun and the smell of buffalo grass filled our noses. I

  sometimes wondered if all this beauty was only spoiled by our presence. All the placer mines and their tailings along with our petty squabbles seemed out of place amidst natures wonders.

  “What you musing on now, Lou? I see that far away look in your eyes. You had best keep your mind on matters at hand. For an instance, what do you mean to say to old Dorcas? You gonna’ go in there and accuse her nephews of wrong doing? I do not imagine she will take kindly to that.”

  “I only mean to talk to her and ask her about what happened. Could be them mule skinners was telling a tale. Maybe they got old scores with the Larues. Hell, I don’t know. But I aim to keep it peaceful, no use stirrin’ a pot that don’t need no more stirring.”

  “Well, I think the pot has been a stirring. I done heard that some of them Larues was out trying to buy brides from the Flatheads. I guess they got some boys getting a mite itchy for women. They got a lot of folks been marryin’ kin up there and Dorcas been thinking that ain’t to good an idea and maybe they need some fresh blood, even if it is Injun blood. Surely ain’t going to find any white women hankerin’ to marry into that clan.”

  I looked at Hitch. “And how would you know about that?”

  “You always seem to forget, Lou, that I am still part Injun. I ain’t forgot the lingo and I am still part of the tribe. I may have been rescued but I will always be part Crow. It would be hard to return to the vil
lage after all these years but some times I am sorely tempted. Living in two worlds is hard. You can see, even after all this time, folks in town still look at me funny. The women around ain’t interested and I ain’t too het up over them whores at the Black Dog. I mean no disrespect to Violett but them ladies she looks after ain’t for me. I been thinking of taking a wife, if I can find one who will have me. Hell, we ain’t getting any younger and maybe it’s time to settle down a bit.”

  I stared at Hitch with my mouth hanging open. “You are something else, child. We are cowpokes; we ain’t needing no settling down. Yes, I love that Violett but marriage; I ain’t ready for that. Hell, this Marshal business is fine for now but I may get an itch and be off tomorrow. Are you goin’ soft on me? You don’t sound like yourself. What ain’t you telling me, pard?”

  “It ain’t that, Lou, I was just musin’ on things. Life is a mystery and I ain’t got but a handful of clues. I left the Injun life too soon and got into the white mans ways too late. I ain’t neither here nor there. By god, you get the itch to move on and I will be right behind you. Maybe a fresh start somewhere else will do us good.”

  “Well, you may be right, but now I got this matter to attend to.” I turned in my saddle and grinned at Hitch. “Remember them battles we had with them Larues? We had some real rassles with them boys. I recall that one time Dorcas and Pappy threw us all in the horse trough. We was all sputterin’ and swearin’ and chokin’. Hell, nearly everyone in town was laughin’ themselves silly. I had that black eye for a week plus my back side was raw from Pappy’s whippin’.”

  We both had a good laugh over that bit of history. Riding along with Hitch was a real pleasure but as well as I thought I knew him, I guess I really didn’t. I had never given much thought to his time as an Injun but it sure seemed to weigh on him now. Funny how you think you know things and then you find out you don’t really know much. Too often I found my eyes closed to what was in front of me and only saw what I wanted to. Pappy told me that wisdom was hard come by and especially hard if you can’t see clearly. I was a cocksure fella’ but I knew I had a lot to learn.