Homer Bolton: The Sheriff of Duncan Flats, Page 2

  Sitting next to me was a Native American Indian who I assumed was one of the fishing guides. I asked him where the Sheriff’s office was and was told I could find it on Main Street right next door to the bank. Said his name was Running Fox and he’d be glad to show me the way.

 

  I never knew any Indians before and I found Running Fox to be quite a pleasant fellow. I asked him how he came to be called Running Fox and he explained to me that he was always chasing foxes as a child. That’s why, he said, he had a scar on his left cheek. It was where a fox had clawed him when he had caught up with one. He laughingly said that most of the time the foxes were too swift for him.

 

  When we got to the Sheriff’s office, Running Fox tapped his fist lightly against mine and said “Comiko” which I later learnt meant “friend“. He told me he had a small room above the doctor’s office and if I ever wanted to chat with someone, that’s where I could find him. He was always there in the evenings and during the day he hung around the Twisted Tree where he always had his meals.

 

  Chapter 5 - I Meet the Sheriff

 

  To be polite, I knocked on the sheriff’s door before entering. I heard a big thundering voice tell me to enter. There, with his feet up on his desk, sat the biggest black man I had ever seen. Even the biggest slaves that I saw working the cotton plantations when I once was in Alabama looked like midgets compared to this man. I was quite taken aback at seeing a negro in a position of authority. Sure, I was now in a Northern State and I knew they had better opportunities than those in the Southern States but this was hard to believe, even with the proof right before my eyes.

 

  I told him who I was and that I was looking for a job and had heard he needed a deputy. Before responding, he got up and walked over to me, walked around me and had a good look at me, from head to toe.

 

  “So, do you know anything about the law?”, he asked.

 

  I had to admit that I never studied it but I knew right from wrong.

 

  He smiled and told me it was not the best answer I could have given him but it was a good enough answer. His name was Abraham Williams. He had me sit down and we talked for close to an hour. I suppose, looking back, it was in a sense an interview but it did involve a lot more. At the end of it, he asked me when I would be ready to start work. That was the only point at which I knew he had even been considering giving me the job. Never did I expect that the hour talk we had was being used by the sheriff to asses my ability to be his deputy.

 

  I wanted to start right away but first I needed to find a place to live. Abe, that’s what he told me everyone called him, suggested I go over to Elm Street and speak to Polly over at number twelve. That day was one of the luckiest days of my life as one of Polly’s boarders had just left two days before and she had a room to spare. We agreed on a monthly board, at a price that was fair to both of us.

 

  I returned to Abe’s office to share my news with him and inform him that I could start the next day. We shook hands and I left, grateful that my life seemed to be getting back in order.

 

  Chapter 6 - I Become the Deputy of Broken Hearts, Wyoming

 

  After a hearty breakfast of cornbread, sausages and a big pot of black coffee, I went on over to the Sheriff’s Office, which I knew was going to my office too. Abe was just taking a pot of coffee off the wood stove and handed me a cup which I politely refused. He gave me a rundown of what to expect in town.

 

  There were a lot of fights over at Joe’s Bar, especially on Friday nights. Most of the fights involved the Confederate Deserters who wanted to be accepted in the town but couldn’t quite hide their Southern attitudes. They still regarded blacks as inferiors and that didn’t bode well with the fifty or so who lived in or around town. Blacks were just as welcome in Joe’s as the whites and if the southerner wasn’t fighting with a black, he was fighting with a white whose friend was a black man.

 

  Another thing that Abe said would keep me busy was watching out for travelling salesmen who tried to sell their tonic water claiming it would cure all kinds of sicknesses. The citizens of Broken Hearts had been fleeced many times by those people and they and the Sheriff all agreed that they were not welcome in town. The Sheriff and the Mayor had come up with an easy plan to persuade them to leave. It was simple. The salesman was allowed to ply his trade as long as he purchased a license from the town office. It cost $2 and was good for 24 hours. Such a ludicrous price! The word spread amongst the salesmen that the license had to be bought or else if caught, the salesman would find himself behind bars for seven days. Despite this, one of them would come into town every now and again.

 

  Abe asked me what kind of gun I would like. I showed him the 45 colt that I recovered in Sam’s Saloon. He looked it over and seemed to be satisfied with it. I had to admit I had never fired it. In fact, I really didn’t know much about guns. I carried one on the cattle ranch back home but things were always quiet there and I never had to use it. The only firearm I ever used was a shotgun to scare away the crows from the small cornfield we owned.

 

  We spent an hour drawing our guns against each other. We were careful that our guns were not loaded. It didn’t make much sense to me for either one of us to shoot the other when we were supposed to be on the same side. After a week I was able to outdraw Abe almost half the time.

 

  Chapter 7 - My First Call to Duty

 

  Three days after I became Deputy, I had my first real altercation. Sure, there were minor incidents in the first few days but nothing to really speak of. My “baptism by fire” came on Friday night, no surprise there - a fight over at Joe’s bar. It all started when three Southerners began cursing and throwing beer bottles at the bartender because he had just served two black men who came in for a drink after finishing their shift at the paper mill.

 

  By the time Abe and I got there, one of the black men had a broken nose and the other had a gun pointed at his head. We both drew our guns and made our presence known. The assailant knew he was outnumbered and dropped his gun to the floor. It fired on impact but thankfully the bullet only hit a mirror on the wall, shattering its glass all over the bar. Luckily, nobody was hit by the flying glass. Two of the Confederates high-tailed it out of there before anyone could stop them. We would get them the next day with no problem as we knew who they were - the Gatlin brothers. The third, the one whose gun discharged wasn’t so lucky. Jeremiah Jones was about to be apprehended by Broken Heart’s new Deputy.

 

  I told him to put his hands behind his back. I was planning to tie him up. He never made any attempt so I grabbed him and decided to make a dent in a supporting beam in the bar by using his head. It was not a problem to tie him after that and take him to jail.

 

  The next day, Abe brought him before Judge Harris. We wanted to charge Jeremiah with attempted murder but the Judge wouldn’t agree. He cited the fact that Jones was intoxicated and wasn’t fully responsible for his actions. He didn’t believe a murder was ever contemplated. Harris did agree that an act that was a danger to the public had been committed and found Jeremiah Jones guilty. He sentenced him to 30 days in jail. What that meant for Abe and me was that one of us would have to go down to the General Store and buy extra coffee and supplies so our guest wouldn’t starve in our custody.

 

  In the early afternoon, I went in search of the Gatlin boys but there was no sign of them. I was told by some of the locals that they had seen two riders leaving town right after the fight at Joe’s. I figured there was no point in tracking them down as it had been raining that morning and the road out of town branched away in three different directions.

 

  Chapter 8 - Having a Coffee with Running Fox

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  I headed back to the Twisted Tree to give myself a little break. I was getting to know a few of the townsfolk by then and had hoped to socialize a little. All the real company I had had in the last few days was Abe. I needed more.

 

  I was in luck. Running Fox was sitting over at a table all by himself. I bought a pot of hot coffee and went over to sit down a spell with him. He seemed genuinely glad to see me. He had just come back to town after acting as a guide for two fishermen up from Kansas. He said he had another job tomorrow with the same two. They were paying him $3 each trip so he was quite proud of himself.

 

  Ever since I arrived, I had wondered how the town got its name but I was too concerned with other matters to ask anyone. Now I finally had a chance and I asked Running Fox about it. He told me that many years ago, an Indian tribe had lived here before the white man came. The gods were angry with the tribe and sent an unknown illness to them. Twenty children died and there was heartache everywhere. He thought that happened somewhere around 1820 but nobody knew for sure.

 

  I was told the white man only came six winters ago. An old prospector found some gold and then others came. They brought their families and some businesses followed. It didn’t take long before the town became one of the biggest settlements in Wyoming. The gold didn’t last long. Seems the old prospector hadn’t hit a mother-lode. But most of the people had stayed on as the soil was good for farming, the rivers and lakes were good for fishing and there was lots of timber. A large sawmill was built and it was able to employ many of the folk who didn’t turn to farming.

 

  Running Fox had been living here for the last four years and was making a decent living as a fishing guide.

 

  It was getting past four in the afternoon when I bade farewell to my Indian friend and went back to my office. Well, I mean to say the Sheriff’s office. He said things were pretty quiet and told me to call it a day. If he needed me, he would have somebody go and fetch me. So off I went to 12 Elm Street to relax for the night.

 

  Chapter 9 - Missing Family and Old Friends

 

  Back in my room, I began to think of the many things that had happened in my life since I left Texas. I started to miss my family, Sam and Mary. I decided it was time to write to them all and let them know where I was and that I was fine. I was really proud of myself and wanted them to know I had become a Deputy.

 

  By 10PM I was all tuckered out and went to bed. The damn rooster next door woke me at 5AM. I managed another hour’s sleep and then got up in time to have breakfast with Polly. Another satisfying breakfast as always. Polly never let me go to work hungry.

 

  I stopped at the Post Office and mailed my three letters and got to work before eight. Abe wasn’t in yet but had left me a note from the night before. Said he had to see the dentist in the morning and probably wouldn’t be in until noon. That seemed funny to me because Abe never mentioned having a sore tooth or anything. I gave Jeremiah his breakfast but didn’t bother to speak to him much. He hadn’t accepted the fact that he would be staying with us for a while and wasn’t really what you would have called friendly. I thought maybe of having Amos drop in and serve him his lunch later that day. Amos was one of the workers over at the sawmill, one of the black workers. I thought that would have been a judicial slap in Jeremiah’s face, so to speak.

 

  In came Abe, just before lunch. I never had seen him cranky before but was he ever cranky that morning! It wasn’t a toothache at all. It was another fight over at Joe’s, a fight when nobody from the Deep South was even in the bar.

 

  Two of the locals got arguing over an unpaid debt and were already rolling around on the floor when Abe got there. When he tried to pull them apart, he got an elbow in his jaw for his troubles. The result - a broken tooth which he had to have the dentist pull. The dentist was the person the people of Broken Hearts feared the most. It was no wonder he had been known as “The Bull“.

 

  Chapter 10 - Time to Say Good-Bye

 

  I spent another three years learning the ropes with Sheriff Abraham. He had been a very patient teacher and I would miss him but the urge to move on had come. The Civil War had ended a year earlier. The North had prevailed but President Lincoln had been assassinated. I expected there would be a lot of changes down south. I was a bit curious to see what was going to take place.

 

  In those three years I had run some thirty-or-so travelling salesmen out of town, arrested ten others for seven days free lodging in what Abe and I referred to as The Heartbreak Hotel. There was never a robbery when I was Deputy there. There was an arsonist we arrested after tracking him down for five days. He was found guilty of burning down the hardware store and was sentenced by Judge Harris to two years in jail. I was the one who escorted him to Cougar Gulch, Montana, where he served his full twenty-four month term.

 

  On Jeremiah’s final day in jail, I did have Amos serve him his last supper. He refused to eat it and left the jail hungry. Amos, Abe and I all had a hearty laugh over that.

 

  As for the Gatlin Brothers, they were never seen in town again. There was a rumour that went about town that they had tried to rob a bank in San Francisco but were caught in the act. One of them was gunned down in the shoot-out in front of the bank and the other was captured and was serving time in a prison somewhere in California. I figured it was probably true. I suspected that they had changed their names after they had left our town and that was what accounted for me never being able to confirm the rumour.

 

  There is one thing I’ll never forget and it happened a week before Christmas when Santa Claus came into town with a sack over his shoulder. Absolutely drunk he was, and the bag kept moving back and forth as though there was something inside it. Abe stopped him just before he went into the Twisted Tree. Santa had six live chickens in the sack and he was intending to sell them to the owner of the Twisted Tree. I guess he figured it was time for the locals to have some barbecued chicken for supper. Luckily Santa told us who he stole the chickens from and we took them back home to their owner. We put him in jail overnight and in the morning, after giving him a stiff warning, let him go on his way. After all, it was Christmas. We never did know his name, what he really looked like, and we never saw that particular Santa ever again.

 

  I had kept in touch with everyone I had written to by exchanging letters back and forth every few months or so. My family was fine, So were Sam and Mary. I was saddened to hear though that Mary was married and had started a family. I was happy for her but it reminded me that I was still single and might always be so. I hoped not.

 

 

  Thankfully in those years I never got hurt except during one fight which I was trying to break up, I did suffer a broken finger on my left hand. Thankfully, I am right handed. There was also a black eye or two but I really don’t count those.

 

  Chapter 11 - On the Road Again … To Duncan Flats

 

  After I packed up my things, gave my badge back to Abe, I went east to . My intent was to go back to Texas for a spell to see my folks. In , I was able to catch a train to Houston and there my Pappy would come and get me. It was going to be his fiftieth birthday soon and I was bringing him a nice Indian blanket. The day before I left Broken Hearts, Running Fox and I had gone on a fishing trip together and it was then that I told him I was moving on. He knew I would be arriving in time for Pappy’s birthday and on the way back to town we stopped at his mother’s, Silver Moon, and there he gave me an Indian blanket which had never been used. I had never seen wool woven into such a beautiful pattern as I saw in that blanket. My Pappy would be very pleased.

 

  It took me four days to arrive in Houston from. There was no direct train and I had to make sever
al changes, one of the trains I had to take was a freight train which was no hardship. After all, it was one of the trains that I took on the journey that brought me to Broken Hearts.

 

  Pappy arrived right after sunrise. I had only been waiting in the station for an hour or so. His birthday was still a week away and I never even mentioned it. I wanted him to think I had forgotten. With me I also had some flowers for Mama and a box of candy for little Sis.

 

  The cattle ranch wasn’t as big as when I used to help out five years ago. Pappy was down-sizing and planning to retire soon because of his sore leg. He banged his knee one winter during a round-up and it never completely mended. When I arrived, both Mama and Bess were happy with the little gifts I gave them. I told Father that I couldn’t find anything that I thought he would like. He was really surprised and pleased with the blanket when his birthday arrived.

 

  I stayed for another three weeks and then said farewell. I was going to travel east to Alabama, Louisiana and maybe Florida. After that, I planned on going north again to start the next phase of my life. I figured finding a job wouldn’t be all that hard with the experience I had acquired over the years.

 

  Mobile was getting to be a big town but I found it too noisy and I didn’t stay more than a day. I travelled further on to Louisiana and partied a bit in New Orleans. Well, I must admit, I partied a lot and spent a week there. It took me forty-eight hours just to sober up. I think I may have made the acquaintance of a lady or two but I can’t remember. Today, many years later, I’m still not sure.

 

  I did manage to spend some time in Florida. The beautiful beaches that were on the Atlantic Ocean were in sharp contrast to the Everglades. It was there, in the Everglades, I saw my first ‘gator. There was a fair in town. I think the name of the town was Muddy Waters (or something like that). They had a cash prize of $10 for anybody who could wrestle George, a pet ‘gator that was used to raise money for the town every year. Just because he was a pet didn’t mean he was tame. Not at all. He was 12 feet in length and was mean looking. In order to win the $10, I had to tie his feet together.