Frontier Justice

Welcome back, stranger.

Sorry I’ve been gone for awhile. Some things came up that I weren’t expectin’ and I had to deal with ‘em. That’s how it goes in the sherifin’ business sometimes.

Anyway, I’m sure you ain’t here for idle chitchat. So let me tell you how things played out in the feud between ol’ Gentleman Chris and Two Gun Tommy.

If you remember, there was some tension between Chris and Two-Gun. They were stealin’ horses and cattle from each other. Then Chris went and kidnapped Two-Gun favorite cowpoke, an orange-haired kid named Elmo. Two-Gun retaliated by swipin’ Gentleman’s favorite horse. That’s when things got plum out of hand. Their cowpokes were buyin’ up all the ammunition in town, and folks were gettin’ nervous. Word was the two brothers were gatherin’ up toward the fence dividin’ their spreads. I knew I couldn’t let this go on no longer.

So I saddled up my big white stallion, strapped on my gunbelt, stowed the Winchester in the saddle holster, and headed out to settle this thing my own way.I was ridin’ out before dawn. The sun hadn’t yet cleared the horizon, but them clouds were already red. I remember my daddy tellin’ me a story once about a red sunrise. He said:

“Red sky at night, sailor’s delight.
Red sky at mornin,’ sailors take warnin’.”

Well, I ain't no sailor, and there ain’t no kind of water for sailin’ in these here parts nohow. But I didn’t need no nursery rhyme to tell me that this was lookin' like a bloody mornin’ indeed.

I came up over a small rise, and sure enough, I see Gentleman’s ‘boys all mounted up and armed to the teeth. And ridin’ up slow from Fireplace Butte were Two-Gun’s crew, their hardware glintin’ in the mornin’ sunlight.

It looked like they was aimin’ to settle this thing once and for all. Right here, right now.

Well, so was I.

I rode up over towards Gentleman’s crew, pulled up about forty yards short. I let my duster fall open so’s them boys could see my weapons, let ‘em know I meant business. I sat there for a minute, starin’ em down, waitin for someone to draw.

Nobody did.

With that settled, I called out, “Gentleman, you aughta come out here and take a little ride with me.”

There was some movement among the men, and Chris came to the front of the group.

“Now, Sheriff,” he said, a big, warm smile on his face, “This here’s just a little disagreement between me and Mr. Two Gun. You surely don’t need to be involved in this.”

That’s Gentleman for you. Always smooth, a real diplomat.

But I’d seen enough of that over the years. I adjusted my duster, placed a hand on the stock of my Winchester, and said, “Gentleman, I suggest you take a ride on over here, let’s just visit about this for a moment.”

Then, a bit firmer – “Right now.”

Well, he didn’t like that one bit. He turned, talked with his ‘boys, turned back and stared at me.

I just waited. There weren’t nothin’ else to say.

Finally, he tapped his spur to his horse and slowly rode over.

As he was comin’ I glanced over to see where Two-Gun’s men were. They had paused when they’d seen me and stopped about 200 yards away. Now they were just sittin’ by, waitin’ to see how things played out.

Gentleman rode up. He said, “Ain’t no need for you to call me out in front of my men, Sheriff Mann.”

It was time to set the tone for this meetin,’ and for the rest of the mornin’ as well.

I said, “Chris, I’m the law in this town. I ain’t callin’ you out. I’m just tellin’ you what you’re gonna do here. You give orders to your men. That ain’t callin’ them out, that’s just the way it is. And right now, you’re takin’ orders from me.”

I leaned over my horse, hand still on the stock of the Winchester, and glared at him.

“You got that?”

His horse backed up half a step. Gentleman didn’t say a word, but after a moment, gave just the slightest nod of his head.

“Now, let’s you and me take a ride over and have a chat with Two-Gun.”

We cantered over toward where Two-Gun’s boys were waitin’. We paused a ways out from them, stopped still. I turned to Gentleman and said, “I ain’t gonna make you throw down your guns. But I want you to put both hands on your saddlehorn where everyone can see ‘em.”

He didn’t like that one bit. His eyes got all fiery hot and his mouth started movin’ like he was gonna say something, but he thought the better of it. Slowly he raised his hands and put ‘em on the saddlehorn, turned his horse so Two-Gun and his boys could see him.

It was time to talk to Two-Gun.

This was the tricky part, and that’s why I had to get Gentleman first. Ol’ Two-Gun’s a young hothead. There ain’t no way he’d a done what Gentleman just did. And I wasn’t sure he wouldn’t ride on out here and start blastin’ at both of us. But this way the only way I had a chance to make this work.

And even Two-Gun couldn’t outdraw me.

So I called out, “Hey, Two-Gun, take a ride out here, would ya?”

He called back right away. “Now why do I want to do that, Sheriff?”

I waited for a second before I said, “Because if I have to ride in there and get you, it ain’t gonna be pretty for either of us. But you’ll come one way or another. I’m just givin’ you a chance to ride out like a man.”

Two-Gun don’t like to be insulted. He said, “If you were a man you’d come get me.”

Before the last word was out of his mouth I had my Winchester up and out of the saddle holster, and fired off a single shot that took the hat right off the head of one of his cowpokes.

There was a long moment of silence. I wondered if they were all going to start blasting away. Gentleman looked at me like I was crazy.

I said loudly, “Two-Gun, if I come in there and get you, I’ll be takin’ you straight to the undertaker.”

Nobody moved.

Then, slowly, Two-Gun rode out from his pack, and ambled over to where we was waitin.’

As he got closer I said, “Both hands on the reigns. I see you go for a gun, you’ll be dead before you hit the ground.”

Turning to Gentleman, I said, “Don’t you even think about drawin.”

At last Two-Gun rode up.

“Boys,’ I said, “Let’s make this quick. I don’t know who started this, and I don’t care. But it ends right now, and it’s goin’ down like this. Gentleman, your boys are gonna bring Two-Guns cows back, and that boy Elmo too. Right now. Two-Gun, your boys are gonna bring Gentleman’s horses back, every last one, includin’ that big Brown he calls Chocolate. We’re gonna make this exchange right here, and when we’re all settled up, your ‘boys are gonna ride back off, and the three of us are gonna talk about your punishment.”

Well I could see neither one of ‘em like the idea. Two-Gun started to reach for his belt, but thought better of it when he saw my big Winchester pointed right at his chest.

“Do we have an understandin’?”

They nodded.

“You ride off to your ‘boys,” I said, “tell ‘em what to do, and ride back here. Right now. Any funny business, you’ll be eatin’ lead for breakfast.”

They did what I said, rode back. We sat there in silence for about 20 minutes. The cowhands from both sides came back, and the exchange was made to everyone’s grudging satisfaction. When Gentleman’s boys brought out that cowhand Elmo, with his dang orange hair, he rode up to Two-Gun and gave him the a big hug.

Frankly, it made me a bit uncomfortable. But Two-Gun clearly had a soft spot in his heart for Elmo. To each his own.

Elmo turned, pointed out toward Two-Gun’s spread by Fireplace Butte, and said “That’s Elmo’s World!”

O-kay.

The cowhands rode off. Now it was just me, Gentleman and Two-Gun.

I said, “Boys, you disappoint me. This is a big valley. It should be big enough for both of you. But you just can’t seem to play nicely together without fighting and stealing.”

“So you’re each going to have to go to your room until I tell you to come out.”

Gentleman started to argue, saying it wasn’t his fault, that Two-Gun started it, but I’d heard this all before and wasn’t having any of it. I simply pointed up the stairs and said, “Go.”

Two-Gun just started to cry.

“Go,” I said to him as well.

He left without a word.

And that was it.

Frontier Justice. Takin’ the boys off the frontier until cooler heads prevail.

It ain’t always easy bein’ the Sheriff.

As I watched them boys walk off, I took in the whole Berber valley. Them boys had worked hard and created two very nice ranches. I was proud of them, despite their behavior. They’re going to be fine men one day.

You see, stranger, them boys are MY boys.

I told you at the beginnin’ of this tale them two were brothers.

They are also my sons.

And that’s just about the end. You see, that night a terrible storm swept through the Berber valley. It raged for hours. When it was over, the townfolk called that storm the most ferocious storm these parts have ever seen. It scoured every last trace of the ranches, buildings, cattle and fencing right off the land. When it was over, the valley looked brand new.

After awhile people referred to that storm as simply the Mighty Big Windstorm.

MBW.

Someday those boys’ll come out of their rooms. Maybe they’ll rebuild them ranches. Maybe they’ll build a trainyard instead, or some settler’s cabins with those pre-cut logs folks have takin’ to callin’ Lincoln Logs. I even heard some talk about buildin’ something called an airport.

Airport – ain’t that the dangest thing you ever heard?

Well, stranger, that’s it. That’s the story of the Range War. Or more exactly, the range war that wasn’t.

Hope the story was worth your while.

Feel free to drop in anytime you’re in town. Pull up a stool, have a drink, and I’ll tell you some tales. I’ve got a few.

See ya around, stranger.

Yep, it’s great to be Sheriff Mann.