By Woodmanone copyright September/2011

There are no descriptive sexual scenes in this story.
Constructive comments, critiques, and emails are very welcome and are appreciated.
Thank you for taking the time to read and comment on my work.

********************

Deputy U.S. Marshal Thomas Boone dismounted in front of the Marshal's office in Tucson Arizona. He raised both hands over his head, leaned backwards and stretched. He was 30 years old but felt much older. Too many outlaws, too many long trails, and too many gun fights, he thought. I can't make these long rides like I used to.

Boone turned to the horse that he'd led into town. Jenson Stoolie was tied face down across the saddle. Boone motioned to a 12 year old boy sitting on the porch in front of the store next to the Marshal's office.

"Run down and fetch the undertaker for me son," he requested and tossed the boy two bits. The youngster caught the coin and took off at a run.

"Who you got there Tom?" U.S. Marshal Ted McCoy asked as he walked out of his office.

"Jenson Stoolie. He said he'd just as soon die as to go back to Yuma Prison." Tom tied his horse to the hitching rail. "I obliged him."

"Put up a fight did he?" McCoy said not expecting an answer. "You know if he'd stopped at shooting that cowboy in the saloon he might have claimed self defense and got away with it." The Marshal shook his head. "But the damn fool had to go and steal a horse. That's what caused the circuit judge to put a warrant out on him."

"Jenson never was the smartest man," Tom replied. Looking down the street he said, "Here comes Sam now. Soon as I turn the body over to him I'm gonna get rid of this trail dust. See y'all in the morning."

Tom handed the reins of Jenson's horse to Sam Johnson, the undertaker. He mounted and rode to the saloon. First a whiskey and a beer and then a bath, he said to himself. Rubbing his hand across his face he thought, reckon a shave wouldn't do any harm either.

"That's a hard young man," Johnson said to the Marshal. "Not a speck of remorse in his eyes after killing a man."

"He didn't used to be that way Sam," McCoy replied. "Time was Tom would have talked to Jenson for hours trying to get him to come peaceful. Oh, he'd have still killed him if necessary but only if there was no other choice. Five years as a Deputy Marshal in this country will surely change a man."

********************

Thomas Jethro Boone came to the Arizona territory as a boy of 17 with his father in 1866 just after the end of the Civil War. Tom worked with his father on their small cattle ranch for five years. The folks about Tucson often remarked that there was no doubt that the Boones were father and son. Both men were tall for the times at 6'1, had the same light brown mane of hair and piercing dark eyes. The older Boone, James, was the heavier of the two at 200 pounds but young Tom showed signs of filling out as he matured. The Boones were well liked and respected by the townspeople they came in contact with.

Early on a spring morning a band of renegades, thieves, and outlaws known as Comancheros made a raid on the Boone ranch. The elder Boone was killed and Tom was shot. The Comancheros, led by a man called Texas Jack Billings, stole all the live stock that could travel; they killed the three pigs and a dozen chickens that couldn't take the trail. Billings took anything and everything of value. They left Tom face down bleeding from the gunshot wound in his shoulder.

After the doctor patched Tom up, Justin Wren took him in and helped the boy recover. Wren said he was a retired lawman but most of the folks in Tucson said he'd been on the wrong side of the law for more years than he'd been on the right side. They said a few years earlier Wren might have been riding with the raiders. Of course they never said it to his face.

It took three months and lot of work for Tom's shoulder to heal up and get back to full strength. The first time that he could ride, Tom borrowed a horse from Justin went back to the ranch. He dug up the strongbox that his father had buried behind the house. Inside was twenty gold Double Eagles; a total of four hundred dollars. Tom took one last look around at what had been his home and rode into Tucson. He went to the gunsmith, bought a Remington .44 pistol converted to metal cartridges and a Winchester 73 repeating rifle. He also bought a good horse from the livery.

For two months Tom honed his skills with the Remington and the Winchester under the tutelage of the retired "lawman". Justin taught the youngster the things he'd learned in a lifetime of handling and using weapons. Finally Tom felt he was ready and he started on the cold trail of the Comancheros.

"I could go with you," Wren offered. At 5'8 he had to look up at Tom to see his face. Justin Wren looked more like someone's grandfather than a lawman. He was 40 years old, rotund and didn't look like he'd missed many meals. Justin's hair was steel gray and was just a fringe around his bald head. In spite of his looks, there was no doubt that the man could be a force of nature by the look in his eyes. Justin Wren was not a man that anyone crossed; not more than once that is.

"You could, but it's not your fight Justin," Tom replied. "I believe this is something I got to do myself."

"Trails near six months old boy. You'll never pick up their tracks."

"Don't have to follow them, just got to find out where they lit. Reckon they headed down Mexico way so I'll start my search toward the border." Tom shook hands with Justin, mounted and looked down.

"You're a good man Justin and a better friend. Thanks for your help."

"Y'all come back if you're able Tom. I've always got a place at my fire for ya."

Tom touched his hat in a salute and turned his horse south toward Mexico.

The journey south wasn't an easy one. The harsh desert, lack of water holes and the vast distances between settlements made for a hard trail. In addition Tom twice ran into bandits who thought the young man would be easy pickings. They found they had made a bad decision when they tried to rob him. Both times Tom left men dead behind him on the desert floor as he continued his quest to find Texas Jack and the Comancheros.

Tom wasn't having any success in finding the raiders. He'd been on the trail for better than a year and a half and was no closer to finding Texas Jack than he'd been when he started. Tom would ride into a small town and ask questions but got no information about Billings or his band. Oh everyone knew who he was talking about and said the Comancheros had passed through but none would offer any idea of what direction the gang took or how long it had been.

It was in the border town of Nogales that a senorita, seven or eight years older than Tom, working in a cantina told him why people wouldn't talk about Billings. "He is a dangerous man Niño," Theresa told him. "All the people are afraid that Texas Jack will come back and punish them if they help anyone trying to find him. But I will help you."

"Why would you help me? Aren't you afraid of him too?"

"Texas Jack and his men killed my husband and my son. What can he do to make my life worse?" Theresa asked. "I'm alone; I work as a whore in this miserable town just to get food and shelter. I'm a toy to be used by any vaquero with a few dollars and then thrown away. What can he do to make my life worse?"

"Why don't you leave?"

"Where would I go? I have no family left except an aunt and my sister down in Magdalena and no money to get to them. There is no work there and I'd just be another mouth to feed." Theresa looked down for a bit and added. "So I'll stay here until I get to old for the men to want me. After that, quien sabe...'Who knows?"

Theresa brought another plate of beef and beans to Tom and poured another glass of tequila for him. "Texas Jack came through here last month. One of the pendejos told me they were headed down to Santa Ana. Wanted me to go with them." Theresa touched Tom's shoulder as she sat down at the table. "Niño, that's four or five days hard ride through country that makes this place look like a garden. You will end up a pile of bleached bones in that desert. Please don't go?" Theresa pleaded. "There will be another time for Texas Jack. You are young, wait for your time."

Tom continued eating for a few minutes. He downed the tequila, threw two dollars on the table and stood. "Come Theresa, it's time for you to leave this damn place." At the questioning look on the woman's face Tom said, "I will take you to Tucson and we'll find you work and a place to live." He smiled and added, "Something different that what you're doing here."

Theresa had little worth packing and was soon ready to travel. Tom bought a horse for her. The animal wasn't a beauty but he felt it could make the hard journey back to Tucson. The landscape north of Nogales was an improvement. There were several waterholes and a few lush valleys like Green Valley. Tom and Theresa rode easy. They would start just before first light, ride until the heat of day, and make camp. Usually they were able to find a stand of Mesquite or Palo Verdes for shade. Around five or six they would continue until it got too dark to ride and they would camp again.

It was early morning of the fifth day when they rode into the clearing at Justin Wren's place. Tom stopped about a hundred feet from the ranch house.

"Hello the house," he yelled. "Like to ride in if we can."

"C'mon in youngster," Justin yelled back. "You sure ride noisy. Been waiting for you for the last twenty minutes." Justin stepped into the yard in front of the ranch house. When Tom and Theresa got closer, Justin's eyes opened wide.

"Who's your friend?" He asked Tom.

"I am Theresa Sanchez and I can speak for myself," she replied with a nod of her head.

Justin swept his hat off his head and nodded. "Sorry ma'am didn't mean no disrespect. I'm Justin Wren."

"You are the Senor Wren that taught Tom how to shoot. He has spoken of you often."

"Please step inside out of the heat Senora," Justin said and pointed to the door of the house.

"Thank you Senor, you are most kind," Theresa said.

"Ahem," Tom cleared his throat. "Can I come in too?" Tom asked with a smile.

"Oh, sure Tom. It's good to see you. Come in, both of you." Justin stood at the door waiting for Theresa and Tom to enter his house. He followed them in and put a pitcher of spring water on the table. After a few minutes he stood and said, "I'll take care of the horses."

"I'll go with you Justin." Turning to Theresa he said, "Why don't you wash the trail dust off and we'll be back in about 30 minutes."

Walking to the corral, leading Theresa's horse Justin thought about her. He gauged her height at 5'4 or so. Ain't many people shorter than me, he thought. Fine looking women though. Got that long black hair and those big dark eyes that make a man want to run around in circles. Course the fact that she's got a fine strong body don't hurt none neither. She's not a youngster but she's not as old as me, he continued his thoughts. From the look in her eyes, she's seen some hard times.

Justin was too short to look over the back of Theresa's horse as he curry combed the animal. He looked under the horse's neck at Tom. "Where'd you partner up with senora Sanchez?"

Tom smiled at his friend. Justin don't know it yet but if Theresa's of a mind she's already got him roped and hogtied, he thought.

"Met her down in Nogales. She was the only one in a year and a half that would talk about Texas Jack." Tom brushed his horse for several seconds. "Theresa is a friend; she kept me from makin a bad mistake."

Tom told Justin about the gang going south to Santa Ana and how Theresa had warned him about going after them. "Maybe I could've got there but I don't know ifin I'd a made it back or not. She told me there would be another time for Jack and his boys. Figured she was right, so we come home." Tom stuttered a little and added, "I mean back to your place."

"Home's close enough boy," Justin replied with a grin. "Glad you're back."

"There's something you ought to know about Theresa." She was a whore in Nogales. Didn't have much choice in the matter but I thought you should know."

"Why would that matter to me? She's your friend Tom and that's good enough for me."

"Friend I said, and that's all I meant," Tom told Justin. "I never partook of her services, but I did listen to her advice. Damn good advice it was too." He walked over to Justin. "I can see that you're taken with her. If something comes up between you two I just didn't want you to be surprised later on."

Justin looked at Tom for almost a minute. He smiled and said, "There's things in my past that I'm not real proud of either. Reckon everyone deserves a second chance to get things right. We'll say no more about this."

Yep, roped and hogtied, Tom thought as the two men returned to the house.

Theresa had washed up and changed out of the split riding skirt she'd been wearing. She had put on one of her two gingham dresses and brushed her hair. Tom and Justin could smell the bacon cooking and as they entered the kitchen and saw her cooking flapjacks on the griddle.

"Sit down please and I will get your coffee," Theresa said. "Breakfast will be ready very soon."

Near the end of breakfast, Tom sat back with the last piece of bacon. "I'll make a run into town in a few days if you like Theresa and we'll see what kind of work we can find for you. Justin and me know a few people that might be able to help." He stood and walked toward the door. "Guess I'll take a look at my horse. He looked like he was getting a sore hoof; might have a stone under his shoe."

"Niño is a good person," Theresa said to Justin watching Tom leave. "He was always respectful to me; he did not treat me like a puta, a whore." Turning to Justin she added, "Don't worry; I know he told you of my life. Niño told me of how you took him in when his father was killed. Of how you nursed him until he regained his strength. He also told me you taught him how to use that big pistola he carries; he is fortunate to have a friend like you Senor Wren."

"No need for that Senor business," Justin said with a smile. "Name's Justin if you care to use it." He scratched his chin. "As far as Tom, he needed a hand about then. Been there myself and someone helped me so I thought I'd just pay it back." Justin smiled again. "Maybe Tom will do the same one day and pay it back."

"He did 'pay it back' as you say when he helped me," Theresa replied.

Tom re-entered the kitchen about ten minutes later and sat down. "Justin I had a thought just now."

"Did it hurt Tom?" Justin teased with a big laugh.

Tom grinned. "I've about used up the money from Pa's strongbox and I can't keep living off you. Reckon I need to find work for myself as well as Theresa."

"Got any ideas?"

"I thought I might talk to the stage line; get a job as a guard. Or maybe ride guard for the payroll shipments to the mines. No need to do anything real quick. I want to rest up after that ride from Nogales."

"If it would be no problem, I would also like rest," Theresa said. "When you go to town to see about work I could go with you."

"I wouldn't mind some company for a few days," Justin said. "Y'all rest as long as need be."

Tom, and Theresa, 'rested' for a week. During that time Theresa took over the cooking duties and kept the ranch house clean.

Saddling the horses as he and Theresa prepared to go into town, Tom said, "Sure gonna miss your cookin Theresa. I ain't ate that good in a long time." He fingered his clean shirt. "Nice having my clothes cleaned and pressed too. Thank you."

"I'll be goin with you," Justin said leading his horse out of the barn. "Got some business to take care of. Gonna need your help."

"Sure, be happy to give you a hand. What business you need help with?"

"Going to see the Justice of the Peace; need you to be my best man." Justin laughed at the surprised look on Tom's face. He walked over and took Theresa's hand. "Me and Theresa have got real used to each other this week and want to make it permanent like."

Tom looked first at Justin and then at Theresa. "Si Niño, it is true. This is the first home I've had in many years; I don't want to leave." She smiled and touched Justin's cheek. "And Justin will be a good husband."

"Well I'll be danged," Tom exclaimed. "I was right the day we got back." Justine raised his eyes brows with a puzzled look. "Said the day you met Theresa that if she wanted you that you were already roped and hogtied."

Theresa laughed and hugged Justin. With a smile on this face Justin said, "I reckon you were right youngster."

The three road into Tucson and went to the county court house. Justine gave the county recorder two dollars and got a marriage license. While Justin and Theresa were busy at the court house, Tom tracked down the Justice of the Peace. Tom took him to the hotel to meet the happy couple where the wedding ceremony took place.

Leland Chambers, the owner of the hotel and Justin's good friend, walked Theresa down a hastily made aisle to where Justin and Tom waited. Tom thought he was going to have to put a lead rope around his neck to hold Justin in one place because he was so nervous.

Chambers had a special wedding supper prepared for the newlyweds and as a wedding present gave them the best room in the hotel for the night. Tom went to a boarding house for the evening. He was sitting on the porch of the hotel the next morning waiting for the newly married couple to make an appearance.

Tom was young but he had better sense than to go knock on their door. I'll just wait a spell, Tom thought. Got nothin pressing anyway.

Sheriff Will Jenkins stopped to talk to Tom on his morning rounds. "Heard Justin and that lady you brought home with you got hitched yesterday. Sorta quick wasn't it?" Jenkins saw the hard look that came in Tom's eyes. "No disrespect meant Tom; but you only been back about a week or so."

Tom relaxed and let a smile grow across his face. "Sometimes it just happens that way Sheriff. I'm no expert bout things like that but I saw the look on Justin's face when he first saw Theresa." Tom chuckled, "Fact is I wondered what took them so long cause Theresa had the same look about her."

"You gonna work the ranch with Justin?"

"Nope, done my share of workin with cattle," Tom answered and smile. "Think I've seen all the butt ends of steers that I care to. I'll look around for something else to work at."

"If you don't mind the work, I heard that John Seager is lookin for men to ride guard for his payroll shipments to the mines. Could be easy work."

"Until someone tries to steal the payroll," Tom replied. "Then things could get rite interesting and you'd earn your wages right quick."

"Yep, there is that possibility. Guess that's why the pay is pretty good." Jenkins gave Tom a small grin. "But I heard your pretty good with that hog leg and can take care of yourself."

"Better than most, well better than the ones I've run into so far." Tom leaned back in his chair. "Being good with a sidearm don't matter if there's someone shooting at you from two hundred yards." Tom looked thoughtful for a few seconds. "John Seager you say? Suppose I could talk to the man."

"He's over to the Molly's Cafe having breakfast."

Tom went into the hotel and left a message with the desk clerk for Justin and Theresa. He walked the fifty yards to the cafe and stepped inside. At a table against the back wall was a man that had to be John Seager. He was wearing a black frock coat, stripped gray pants and a shirt with a button on collar with a string tie. If it wasn't' for his size and his hands people would think he was a merchant or drummer.
Seager was bigger than Tom. Got to be 6' 4 or so, Tom thought. His hands have seen a lot more hard work than most. They're scared and rough. Those crooked fingers show they've been broke. No sir, this ain't no normal business man.

"You be John Seager?" Tom asked as he walked to the table.

"I am."

"Sorry to interrupt your breakfast. Sheriff Jenkins said you'd be looking for men to ride guard. Like to talk to you about it if I can. I'm Tom Boone."

"Sit down and have coffee with me Mr. Boone and we'll talk." He motioned and the waitress brought the coffee pot and a cup for Tom. After she left Seager said, "You'd be the youngster that Justin Wren took in a while back."

"Yes sir. Justin took me in and helped me heal up right after my Pa was killed."

"Understand after you got saddle ready you went after the gang that killed you Pa and shot you. That true?"

Tom nodded. "Never could cut their trail though; looked for a year and half. Last I heard they headed down to Santa Ana. Got some good advice about not followin them and decided I'd come back." He took a sip of coffee and scratched his ear. "Texas Jack won't go away. He'll be back in these parts one day and we'll settle what's between us."

Seager looked at the man sitting across from him. He's young, Seager thought. But he's got bottom to him. And from what folks tell me he's better than average with that .44 and his Winchester.

"In partners with an English lord you know. We got holdings and mines all over the southwest. The ones I need you for are over to Steven's Mountain and up near Benson." Tom nodded to show he knew the areas.

"Rode over to Steven's Mountain with my Pa when we first came out here," Tom said. "Never been but I've heard of Benson. Pretty well know where it is."

"I send payroll and supplies to Steven's on the first of the month. It's near 40 miles; usually takes five days there and back. It's faster comin back with an empty wagon." Seager looked at Tom and saw him nod again. "On the 15th I do the same for Benson. It's about 50 miles, through rougher country. That trip takes seven days, depending on the trail and the weather. You interested?"

"So far, but I ain't heard about wages yet," Tom answered with a grin. "Got to be worth a lot for a man to be on the trail that much."

Seager laughed. "Got your head on straight anyway," he said. "You're right; I pay better than the stage line or freight companies. Pay is $50 a trip; that's $100 a month for about two weeks work. I'll also provide a room at Mrs. Duncan's boarding house while you're in Tucson. You provide your own horse and gear. I'll supply weapons or if you want to use what you got I'll pay for your ammunition. I need two men; you're one of them if you want the job."

Tom took another sip of his coffee. "That's a lot of money for two weeks a month Mr. Seager."

"Yes it is but each payroll is between three and four thousand dollars," Seager replied. "I reckon the expense is worth the outlay to make sure that payroll gets to the mines."

"Well sir, you just hired yourself a guard Mr. Seager. When do I start?"

Seager smiled and extended his hand to shake with Tom. "This is the 20th. First trip will be to Steven's Mountain at the first of the month. Get your gear together and come to my office, it's over the bank, on the morning of the first."

Justin and Theresa entered the café as Tom stood to leave. "Wondered where you run off to," Justin said.

"Thought I was gonna be sittin on that porch all day," Tom replied and watched as Theresa and Justin's faces turned red. "Had to talk to Mr. Seager there about work. I start on the first of the month as a payroll guard."

The three friends ate a late breakfast and started back to the livery to get their horses. Tom was a little concerned about sleeping arrangements and said so but Theresa put his mind at ease.

"I will move into my husband's room and you can stay in the same room you've been using," she told Tom. "Don't worry Niño, we won't make you sleep in the barn," Theresa added with a smile.

As they got to the livery, Tom explained his new job, the traveling, and the destinations.

"Better find a good horse between now and the 1st," Tom said. "Mine's still a little stove in from all that hard riding for better than a year. He needs to rest for two or three months with good feed and nothing to do but chase after the mares."

"Tell you what. I like that horse of yours," Justin said. "I got a spare horse here at the livery. Brought him in to be shod just before you got back and he's been here ever since. I planned to take him home with me today. Let's trade horses. You get an animal that's fresh and can handle the trails you'll be riding and I get a good looking animal to breed to a couple of my mares."

Tom looked at his friend for about 10 seconds. "If that's what you want Justin, we've got a deal."

"Don't you want to see my horse first?"

"Nope. You say he's a good animal and I trust you and your judgment." Tom handed Justin the reins to his horse. "Where's my new horse?"

Justin held up his hand for Tom to wait and went into the livery barn. He came back leading a big Appaloosa stallion that was prancing with his head held high and his ears cocked forward. Justin handed Tom the lead rope.

"This here's Cochise," Justin said. "Look him over and see if he suits you."

Tom took the lead rope and held out his hand so the horse could get his scent. As Cochise settled down Tom stroked his muzzle and spoke in a low soothing voice to the horse. He stepped back and gave the animal a good look.

Cochise coat was a chocolate brown from the midpoint of his barrel to his head; right down to his nose. The rear of the horse was an almost dazzling white with chocolate colored spots. That horse has to be sixteen hands, Tom thought. He's got real strong legs and a deep chest. This is a horse you could ride for days and days and he'd still be strong and ready to go some more.

"Reckon I got the best of the bargain," Tom said. He started switching his saddle and gear to Cochise. "Why'd you name him Cochise?"

"I got the horse from a horse breeder from Nebraska. Said the animal was born the same year that the Apache Chief Cochise died on the reservation. The man said when he was in the Army; they'd chased Cochise and his band all over Arizona and New Mexico. Said he had a lot of respect for Cochise, so that's what he named the horse." Justin scratched his head. "Don't know if all that's true but sure makes a good story."

Tom finished changing his gear and mounted Cochise. He gave the horse several seconds to get use to how Tom sat his saddle and then rode him slowly around the open area in front of the livery.

Reining the horse back in front of Justin, Tom looked down. "He'll do," he said with conviction.

********************

Tom Boone started his career as a payroll guard for Seager Mining. On his first trip he was the only guard. Seager didn't like sending just the wagon driver and one guard but he hadn't found another man of the caliber he wanted. That changed before Tom made his first mid month trip to Benson. Seager hired a former lawman from central Arizona.

John Templar was close to 50 years old and had been a town marshal in the central Arizona mining town of Wickenburg for over 10 years. Templar had been a lawman in Texas for many years before that. He sure didn't look like a lawman. John was only 5'5 and whip cord thin; his dark hair was streaked with gray and his face was leather like from the weather. But one look into his eyes you knew that he was a man to respect. His hands were large for his size and his right thumb had a callous from cocking the hammer on the big Colt .45 he carried.

During his time as town marshal, he'd scouted for the U. S. Army on some of their campaigns against Yavapai Indians. Returning from one such campaign John got into a vicious fight with a young Army Captain. It took four men to pull him off the captain; Templar decided it was time for him to move on.

"I faced down outlaws, rustlers, and lynch mobs," John told Tom on their first duty together. "I've tracked and fought Indians, Apache, Comanche, and Yavapai; I don't mind using my gun if necessary. But I had to leave Wickenburg or I might have shot that young horse's ass."

"You brought it up so I'll ask. What was the trouble with the captain?"

"We were on a scout looking for some Yavapai that had just raided a ranch outside of town," John replied. "This young fool, Captain Stacy was his name, insisted we go use a pass through the Buckhorn Mountains to shorten our trip back to Wickenburg. I told him the Yavapai knew that was the only way through them hills and they could ambush us if we rode through. I suggested he and the troops wait for a couple of hours and let me do a scout to make sure the pass was clear."

John spit out the chaw of tobacco in his cheek, cut a fresh piece from his tobacco plug and put it in his mouth. "Nasty habit boy, don't get started on it," he said with a smile. "Where was I? Oh yeah, Stacy said we could ride over any Indians in the pass. Then he told me he was in charge and that I'd follow his orders or he'd charge me with sedition and have me put in the stockade."

Looking at Tom, John said, "That pass was narrow, not more than 30 feet across or so with jagged rocks on the floor. It meant the troop would have to ride single file. Dangerous way for a unit to travel in hostile territory."

John stopped for so long that Tom turned to look at him. "What happened, John?" Tom asked in a gentle tone.

"We started into that pass with 42 men, countin me and the Captain. The Yavapai were waitin for us. 28 of us made it through." John shook himself. "We left 14 men dead or wounded on the floor of that canyon. Stacy wouldn't let me lead a force back for the wounded. When we got back to Wickenburg, I made my report to Major Dixon, the company commander. As I left the Major's office I met Captain Stacy comin in. That ass had the nerve to say, 'I told you we could make it through'.

John gave Tom an evil grin. "I hit that man so hard I think his pa got a headache. Got to say this for the boy, he weren't no coward. He got up and charged me. Took four men to pull me off him. Glad they did; I'd of probably beat him to death."

"Sounds like this Stacy got off easy," Tom offered.

"Yep he did. Was a time I would have just shot him and walked away. Knowed if I stayed around we'd run into each other so I decide to leave before I had to kill him." He turned to Tom and added, "And that's how come you get graced with my company youngster."

"Well I'm glad you're here John for whatever reason."

"So what's your story Tom? Why are you out here in this God forsaken country ridin guard?"

Tom told John his story, from the time he and his pa moved to the area until he hired on with Seager.

"Smart move, not following Texas Jack down that far into Mexico. I know the area and it's a hell hole."

There was no trouble on that trip to Benson, or on the next trip to Steven's Mountain. On the following trip to Benson, six men attempted to rob the payroll. The wagon carrying supplies and the payroll was going along a ridge line; the ground fell steeply away on each side of the trail. Three men climbed up onto the road from behind some rocks. The other three came out of their hiding place and stood behind the wagon.

The driver pulled the wagon to a stop. John motioned with his head toward the men at the rear of the wagon and Tom turned to face them.

"We aim to have that payroll," one of the men yelled. He and the others had their pistols drawn. "You guards throw down your guns and ride off."

John didn't answer the bandit; instead he drew his pistol and started shooting. Out of the corner of his eye, Tom saw John pull his Colt. Tom drew his Remington and traded shots with the three men at the rear. In less than five seconds, the six men were on the ground. John got off his horse and examined the three that had been facing him; Tom did the same at the rear of the wagon.

Tom had hit two of the men in the chest and the third in the head; all of them were dead. John rode back to join Tom.

"Those three are dead," he said to Tom. "Them?"

Tom was reloading his pistol. "Reckon they won't be robbing anymore payrolls," he answered.

They pulled the men off the trail and continued to Benson. "Should we contact someone about them?" Tom asked.

"Ain't no law out here," John replied. "Don't know who we'd contact."

For the next year Tom and John rode guard together. Two other attempts to rob the Seager payroll were made, resulting in more outlaws being left dead on the trail. One of the men in the second attack was wounded but escaped. The word got around that facing the two guards that protected the Seager payroll wasn't a good idea.

Tom went into the saloon after returning from a trip to Benson. I deserve a beer to wash down the trail dust, he thought. He saw the U. S. Marshal, Ted McCoy, with his back against the rear wall. Three cowboys faced the Marshal with pistols in their hands.

"Put down your guns boys," Marshal McCoy said. "No need for anyone to get killed."

"You ain't takin my brother in Marshal," the man on the left said.

"Clint, your brother stole a horse. He's got to answer for it."

"Not by you McCoy. I'll shoot you before I'll let you take him."

"Shoot him Clint," another man said.

"Shut up Vince," Clint ordered as he looked at his brother. "If you hadn't of stole that horse we wouldn't be here." Turning back to the Marshal he said, "Give us your word you'll let us ride out and we'll leave Marshal."

"Can't do that boys so we might as well get to it. I've got to arrest Vince either here or out on the trail." Marshal McCoy paused for a bit. "Put down your gun Clint and I'll forget all about this."

"Shoot him Clint," Vince yelled. "Don't let him take me in."

"I don't want to kill no Marshal," Clint said almost to himself.

"That's good thinkin Mister," Tom said walking up behind the three cowboys.

Clint, Vince, and the other cowboy turned and saw Tom with his .44 in his hand.

"Do what the Marshal said," Tom ordered. "Drop your guns and step back. Don't," he said to the third man that started to turn toward him. "You ain't that good."

Vince yelled in frustration and thumbed back the hammer on his pistol. He brought it up to point at the Marshal but never got it above his waist. Tom shot him in the back of the head. McCoy had drawn his Colt when Vince yelled and he shot the third man. Clint turned toward Tom and got a bullet in his chest.

McCoy kicked the men's pistols away and examined them. "Send your swamper for the undertaker Charley," he ordered the bartender.

Standing up, he faced Tom. "You'd be Tom Boone," McCoy said. "Ride guard for Seager." It was a statement not a question. "Obliged for your help."

Tom nodded and reloaded his pistol. "You're welcome Marshal."

"Let me buy you a drink," McCoy offered. Tom nodded and the Marshal motioned to Charley to bring two whiskeys to a table.

"You like ridin guard?"

"Not much to like or not like," Tom answered. "It's a job, doing something I'm good at."

"Plan to stay with Seager for a spell?"

"Don't see doing it for ever but its okay right now. Why the interest Marshal?"

The undertaker came into the saloon with his helper. Marshal McCoy pointed to the dead men at the back of the room. "Bury em Sam. If they don't have enough for your fee on em, send me the bill. I'll see that you get paid."

Shortly the dead men were carried from the saloon and began their last journey. A journey that would end at boot hill.

"I need a deputy. Area's too big for one man to cover. Offering you the job."

"Why me? I mean you don't know me."

"Well I know what Seager says and I know what John Templar says about you." McCoy smiled, "John and I worked together for a spell down it Texas. He says you're a good man to have at your side. And then there's Justin Wren. I've know Justin for close to 20 years and I trust his judgment. He says you'd make a right good deputy." McCoy paused, motioned for two more whiskeys. "The pay is $75 a month plus room and board. You can stay at Mrs. Duncan's if you like."

"I just never thought about being a lawman," Tom responded.

"You'll make more than with Seager I know, but I could use a good man Tom."

"If I take the job Marshal, money don't come into it." Tom thought for about a minute as he stared at the wall. "I'd need to give Mr. Seager some warning; give him time to find another guard."

"Month be long enough?" McCoy asked and Tom nodded. "Give him the notice, you've got the job. Pick up some nicer clothes and I'll meet you at my office in one month and swear you in."

Tom hadn't spent much of his wages from Seager. His room and board at Mrs. Duncan's was paid for and riding guard he ate food from the wagon or mine supplies. Tom bought some good whipcord pants and a few shirts with button on collars for town. He got some new boots and a new hat; there ones he'd been wearing weren't fit to wear when he had to deal with the public.

Tom was able to wear his new boots around town between his last two guard duties to get them broke in. He added one more piece of new equipment; a short barreled 10 gauge Greener shotgun commonly called a coach gun.

One month after that evening in the saloon, he presented himself to Marshal McCoy at the office and was sworn in as a Deputy U.S. Marshal.

********************

"I'll go or you can but one of us has to stay in town," McCoy said to Tom.

McCoy was talking about going after a man that had tried to rob the Wells Fargo bank. The attempted robbery wasn't a success because one of the clerks pulled a gun on the bandit. The clerk was shot for his trouble and the thief jumped on his horse and rode away.

"Guess I'll go after him," Tom replied. "I'm still not used to dealing with the townspeople."

Tom had been a Deputy U.S. Marshal for three months and was still trying to learn to be diplomatic and tactful in dealing with people. He'd been somewhat of a rough cob when he rode payroll guard for Seager Mining. Tom hadn't had much to do with the people in town except for store clerks and the like. If they didn't bother him he let them alone.

Now as a Deputy, people sought him out to tell him of grievances: real or imaginary. Tom had to listen, offer suggestions, or take action with each complaint or request. People should handle their own problems, Tom thought to himself. Let Ted and me handle the crooks, rustlers, and horse thieves.

Ted McCoy smiled at his new Deputy. He knew Tom wasn't comfortable talking to one of the women from the church complaining that the cowboys from the cattle drive used salty language. Or a store owner complaining about people tying up their horses in front of his business so his customers didn't have a place to hitch their animals. Or the pastor of the church preaching that the Marshal's office should do something about the wages of sin that the saloon represented. But the boy is a damn good Deputy and he'll learn, Ted thought. He never steps back from trouble and he's a good man to have at your back.

Tom saddled Cochise, stowed some trail supplies in his saddlebags, and rode off in the same direction as the bank robber. The man was identified by another clerk as Rafe Timmins. Timmins worked as a cow hand or general helper when he wasn't too drunk to show up. From what Tom knew about him, Timmins had fought for the Confederacy during the Civil War. Guess he never go used to being a civilian, Tom thought. Lot of boys like that in Texas, New Mexico, and here in Arizona.

Timmons wasn't an experienced or accomplished thief and Tom cut his trail late afternoon of the first day out. Cochise was impatient and wanted to run but Tom held him close. He made a cold camp just before dusk, eating some beef jerky and drinking water from his canteen for supper.
"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.
"Figure we're about a day, day and a half behind them," John offered just after dusk. They had camped at one of the few water holes in the area.

"Drivin the cattle and maybe leading some horses will slow em down," Justin remarked. "Got any idea where they're headed?"

"My guess is they're headed for Perdition." John replied.

"What the hell is Perdition?" Justin asked.

"Funny you should ask that way," Tom said with a laugh. "Perdition means eternal damnation or hell." He chuckled again. "It's an outlaw town in the Alvarez Mountains," Tom answered. "Comancheros run the place and Jack runs the Comancheros."

"The law just lets it be?"

"Too hard a nut to crack I guess," Tom said. "Perdition sits in large box canyon back in the mountains. Only one way in or out of that canyon and there's forty or fifty men down there." He took a drink of coffee. They'd made a fire and had a hot meal that evening. It would be cold camps with beans, biscuits, and jerky for food from now on. "Can't wait em out either. They got enough food to last a year or more and there's a good spring right at the base of the canyon."

"Take a full company of cavalry to root that many out," Justin said. "I know we're about as good as there is in the territory but how do you expect just three of us to do much?"

"When you can't use the front door you go around to the back," John said. Looking at Tom he asked, "Right Tom?"

Tom grinned and nodded. "I've got an idea that's just crazy enough to work. Tell you more when we get there."

"Sure gonna miss my evenin coffee," John said. "Course we have to travel light to catch them."

"We should cache some supplies here at the water hole. We may be in a bit of a hurry comin back this way. Tom suggested. "There's a little village called Aqua Fria bout five miles from the trail head into Perdition, We'll resupply there on the way in. May not have the time later."

Aqua Fria's name meant "cool water" but the name was misleading. The sleepy little village did have a spring and the water was indeed cool but it tasted horrible because of the sulfur content. The rocks around the spring were stained yellow and green. A man or animals could drink the water and it was preferable to dying of thirst, but just barely.

As they rode into Aqua Fria at dusk the next evening they could smell the sulfur spring and see a dust trail still hanging the air. "Almost caught em before they got here," Justin said. "Too bad we didn't, cause from what you say Tom it's gonna be a bear goin into that canyon."

"I've been thinkin," John said. "How do you know so much about Perdition Tom?"

"Been scouting it off and on ever since I became a Deputy. I want Texas Jack real bad but there's no way I could go in there alone. Thought if the Army or the Arizona Rangers ever decided to go in, I'd be able to give them the lay of the land."

"But there's only three of us now," Justin said. "I don't see how two more men's gonna make a difference."

"It won't, but you two ain't going in; just me." Tom saw the surprised look on his friends faces. "Weren't no reason for me to force the point before; thought I'd catch Jack away from Perdition one day. Now I don't have a choice; I've got to get Etta out of there."

"But..." Justin began.

"What I need from you two is covering fire when I come up that trail with Etta. I tell you about it tonight when we get to the rim. I know a spot where we can see the floor of the canyon. Get some rest; we're pullin out at dusk."

Just after 11:30 that night the three friends stopped their horses about a hundred feet from the rim of the canyon. Tom dismounted as did Justin and John. They walked bent low until near the rim and then went down on their hands and knees.

The box canyon was spread out below them like a big hole in the ground. On the open end of the canyon a wagon trail had been built and it wound between piles of rock and brush. It forced wagons or riders coming into the outlaw hideout to ride back and forth around them. There was a small stream from a fresh water spring meandering along the far side of the canyon. On the floor below was a sort of town; mostly lean-tos and shacks but there was one large two story building made of adobe. There appeared to be two wells near this ramshackle collection of buildings.

Quietly Tom pointed out the features of the settlement. "That narrow trail in means any attacking force would only be able to ride two or three men across. Jack's men could sit back and mow them down as they came in. That big place is Jack's. He and two or three of his most trusted men live there. The shacks and such are for the rest of the gang. There are usually 15 to 20 of Jack's men down there. There are another 15 or so living down there that aren't part of Jack's band but they're just as bad."

As Tom talked he used a telescoping spy glass to look over the outlaw camp. There were several large campfires burning so the area was almost as bright as day. "Somebody holed up here, several years ago had some education. He named the place 'Perdition'. Heard tell he was gonna call it 'Hell' but there was already a town by that name in Texas and it had been wiped out by the Texas Rangers. He thought it would be bad luck to use the name again." The three slowly crept back to their horses.

"So how do you plan to rescue Etta with just three men against, what 30 or 40 guns?" Justine asked.

Tom took off his hat, pulled a serape over his head, and added a very wide brimmed sombrero. "Got these back in Aqua Fria to wear when I go into that canyon. "Did you notice anything special when we scouted the place?"

John was the one that nodded and responded, "Seemed to a party going on. Must have been going all night because there's a lot of drunks laying around."

Tom smiled and replied, "That's right. I figured they would have a big shindig after a successful raid. Fact is I was countin on it. "I'm gonna pull this sombrero down low, ride in and act like one of the Comancheros. Have a drink or two, maybe dance with one of the women, then I'll mosey over to the house. When I find Etta we'll start up the trail. If any of them catch on I'll hang back and cover her."

"What happens if you can't get out?" Justin asked.

"If Etta comes to the head of the trail without me, y'all ride. Don't wait on me, don't try to come get me; just get her safe." Tom shook his head as the men protested. "McCoy and the others should be right behind us. If you can get to them, you'll be safe and so will Etta. The Marshal told me he was going to put together a 30 or 40 men posse or get a troop of cavalry if he could." He hesitated, looked his friends in the eye and added, "If they get past me and catch you, y'all don't stand much chance. Don't let them take Etta back in there."

John slowly nodded understanding what Tom was asking. Justin looked back and forth between Tom and John, and then he too understood. Heaving a big sigh Justin nodded. "We won't let them have her again; you've got my word on it."

Nodding at Justin, Tom said, "I need to switch horses with you until I get out of there. Cochise is too good an animal for one of those bandits to be riding; if I rode him in they'd know I wasn't one of them." He held up his hand to stop Justin's protest. "I know Blackie is a fine horse, but Cochise is a mite showy and will stand out."

As Tom mounted Justin's horse he said, "Boys I'm not tryin to get killed but it's my job, Hell, it's my duty to get Etta back home. If she comes out by herself, put her on Cochise and tell her to ride. Y'all will need to ride rear guard. That big horse will get her back to McCoy or if necessary back to Tucson; no one will catch him. See you in a couple of hours." Tom nodded at his friends one last time, rode to the trail head, and started the winding path into the canyon.

He passed one look out, grunted, and waved riding as if he were drunk. The man laughed and said something about not falling off your horse. Tom rode on toward the big house. The open area in front of the main building was littered with people in various stages of drunkenness. Lying on the ground, draped over chairs, or leaning up against lean-tos and shacks, several men, and women, were passed out. There were still about ten or twelve people drinking and raising hell.

Tom tied Blackie loosely to a hitching rail beside two other horses. Blackie turned his head toward the other horses and sniffed. He moved sideways away from them as if he didn't want to associate with the outlaw's horses.

"Didn't know you were so particular," Tom whispered and smiled at the big horse as he rubbed its nose. "Don't worry, I'll be back to get you soon so you behave."

He turned and slowly made his way toward the rowdy crowd. He saw a half full bottle of tequila by a sleeping drunk and picked it up. Tom took a long drink, spilled some of the liquor down his shirt and playing drunk staggered to join the celebration.

"Have a drink amigo," Tom said offering the bottle to one of the men watching a Mexican woman dance in the center of the group as two men played guitars. The man nodded and turned to bottle up and took two big swallows.

"Where's the patron?" Tom asked.

"Over to the house, guarding that woman we took outside of Tucson."

"Guarding her or playing with her?"

"Naw, he's guarding her. Toby over there," the man pointed to a man lying face up in front of the big house with blood on his face, "tried to get friendly with the woman and Jack near beat him to death."

"Jack's saving her for himself I guess," Tom said.

"Not that way. He said he's gonna trade her to some Mexican bandit down in Sonora for a lot of gold. Gonna leave tomorrow sometime. Jack told us all to leave the woman alone. Said the Mex would want a fresh woman not one that's been picked over." The man took another drink from the offered bottle. "But Toby didn't listen, thought he could sneak in there and have some fun without Jack finding out. Considerin how he looks, I reckon he was wrong."

Tom nodded, took a drink, and gave the bottle to the man. When he turned up the bottle to drink, Tom walked away. He took a roundabout path to a side wall of the house and followed it to the rear. Two guards, leaning against the back wall, were talking about how bad Jack had beaten Toby.

"Now Jack's got her up in that second floor room in the back," one said. "Got a man outside the door and us down here to make sure no one gets to her. I haven't seen her but she must be a real fine filly for Jack to go to all this trouble."

There was a wooden balcony steps leading up that ran the whole length of the second story of the house. The guards were stationed at the foot of the steps and faced away from the corner of the house where Tom stood. He pulled his pistol and quietly made his way closer to the guards. When he got within three feet Tom hit the man on his left over the top of his head with the pistol. As that man fell, Tom backhanded the man on the right. The pistol acted like a club and both men went down. Holstering his weapon, he threw their weapons into the darkness and pulled the men closer to the building under the balcony.

Tom went up the stairs and saw two windows, about ten feet apart, facing the balcony. There was light showing through one of them. He stepped lightly and walked over to that window and peaked around into the room. Etta was sitting on a bed with her hands and feet tied. Other than a bruise on her cheek she seemed to be okay. Her clothes were a little dirty but not torn or ripped and her hair was coming out of the bun she normally wore when she rode. Etta's eyes were bright and there was color in her cheeks.

"You're a real brave man," she yelled at the closed door. "Took three of you to tie up one woman. I bet your mothers are very proud of you."

"Shut up or I'll put a gag on ya," a man's voice came from the other side of the door but he didn't open it. "You won't be so feisty when the Mex gets done with ya."

Tom smiled and thought, Etta ain't hurt she's just mad as hell. He looked around, listened for several seconds and climbed through the window. Etta turned toward the window saw Tom and took a deep breath to scream. Tom swept the sombrero off and she recognized him. She smiled and started to speak. He held up his hand to quiet her, walked to the door, and listened. Turning he came back to Etta, pulled his knife from the sheath on his belt, and cut her loose.

"I thought you were another of the bastards that wanted to attack me. Their leader, Texas Jack they called him, beat a man half to death earlier this evening for trying it."

"You okay?" Tom asked in a very low voice as he softly touched the bruise on her cheek. Etta nodded and put her arms around Tom's neck.

"I didn't think anyone would come to help me."

"Etta, I'll always come for you. You have to believe that. How'd you get the bruise?"

"I fought them when they grabbed me off my horse and one of the men hit me." She leaned over and kissed Tom for the first time. "Thank you."

Tom smiled at the kiss. "We can talk about this again when we get out of here. I'll find another horse and we'll ride up the trail slow like. If hell breaks loose you ride on out; I'll fight rear guard until you get to the top. John and Justin are waitin up there for us."

"I can't just leave you," Etta protested.

"You can't help me and the whole idea is to get you safe back in Tucson. Be sorta dumb to let you get caught again. Please Etta do as I say."

She nodded and Tom led her across the room and out the window. They made their way down the stairs and when they reached the bottom Tom walked over to the two men on the ground. He took a serape and a hat off one of them and gave them to Etta.

"Put these on. We'll look like the rest of them dressed like this." Tom put his sombrero back on and led her toward Blackie.

He adjusted the stirrups on Blackie. "This is Justin's horse Blackie, you ride him out. I'll just borrow one of these horses." He helped her mount, got himself up on a sorrel, and they slowly rode toward the trail. About half way through the wagon trail, the hell Tom talked about broke loose.

"Guess they found the two guards," Tom said when he heard the noise coming from the Comancheros camp. "Go Etta, ride out. I'm right behind you."

They put their horse into a fast lope and soon got came to the end of the wagon trail. Justin and John were waiting for them.

"I think we're gonna have company," John said. "They're running around trying to get horses saddled.

"Best we ride," Justin suggested.

"Etta switch horses with Justin," Tom said.

"This is your horse, Cochise," she said as she mounted the big Appaloosa. "Why aren't you riding him?"

"We didn't come all this way to let you get caught again. Cochise is the best horse in the county. If we have to run far, he'll get you home." Tom rode closer to Etta.

"If they catch up to us, one of us will be rear guard. No matter what happens you keep riding. Don't stop just keep riding. Marshal McCoy and a posse should be close by now. Get to them."

Etta started to protest and Justin said, "Don't do no good to argue with him Miss. He's as stubborn as a Missouri mule."

"We gonna sit here and talk all night or are we gonna ride?" John asked. "I say we ride and argue about all this when we get Miss Etta safe."

"Least we got a Hunter's Moon," Justine said looking up at the full moon. "Got light enough to ride by."

"Gives them light enough to follow us too," Justine said.

"Lead out John," Tom said. "I'll cover our back trail."

John, followed by Etta and Justin, kicked his horse into a high gallop and rode back toward Aqua Fria. They would ride hard for the first 30 minutes or so and then slow to a ground swallowing lope. Tom gave them a two hundred yard head start and followed, looking back over his shoulder.

About ten minutes later as Tom topped a small rise just before they came to Aqua Fria and looked back. The light from the full moon allowed him to see the riders coming after them. Some of the riders carried torches. They spotted the little group and turned toward them.

Tom closed ranks with the others and shouted, "We got company. I'll hang back and discourage them some."

As the others rode on, Tom dismounted, pulled his Winchester, and knelt behind an adobe wall on the outskirts of the small village. He used it as a support for his rifle and waited for the followers to get into range. The horse he'd taken from the hitching rail wasn't as good as the ones his friends were riding. It was already showing faint signs of fatigue from the ten minutes of galloping. Reckon I should have stole a better horse, Tom thought with a grim smile.

The raiders were at 150 yards when Tom opened up on them. The range was too great for accurate shooting but he was just trying to slow them down; if he hit anyone so much the better. The bandits pulled up their horses and dismounted. They fired back at Tom and he could see their bullets strike the ground about 50 yards from him.

One shot hit the wall in front of Tom. Damn, he thought, one of them has a long barreled Sharps or a buffalo gun. Hadn't counted on that. He fired, off and on, for another ten minutes and then mounted and rode away. For the next two hours the cycle was repeated. Tom would stop, fire a few shots, and ride on. Each time the outlaws would dismount and return fire. Most of the bullets were short but every once in a while the buffalo gun would hit close to Tom. Each time the bandits didn't wait as long to remount and they made up ground on Tom as he fought a rear guard action.

Can't keep this up much longer, Tom thought. My horse is about done in and they're getting closer. Best find a spot to make a stand. If I can hold them off for another hour, Etta and the others can get away.

After two more stops, Texas Jack and his men had closed to within a 75 yards. Now Tom's shooting began to pick men out of their saddles before they could dismount and find cover. But the raiders were also in range and it was getting more dangerous to stop. He'd shoot and get them to stop but their return fire peppered whatever cover Tom had found. Bout one more run before they overtake me, Tom thought as he mounted. Need to find a stand.

The horse Tom was riding was really laboring and had slowed down considerably. Don't have much left in him, Tom thought. He saw a rock outcropping and decided that was the place to settle and try to hold off the Comancheros. I need to hold them for about another 30 minutes, he thought. Tom looked over his shoulder and his followers were close enough that he could make out features of the men.

He kicked the horse in the flanks trying to get one more burst of speed out of the tired animal. Tom got to the rocks and dismounted. He quickly set up a defensive position and waited for the bandits to top the rise leading up to his position.

The outlaws topped the rise lead by a man with long hair that streamed behind him as he rode. Tom shot at the leader and saw his horse go down. "Don't think I hit him but I got his horse, Tom muttered.

The man with the hair quickly mounted another horse that had belonged to one of the men Tom had shot. Tom could see and almost hear the man yelling at his men to continue. They regrouped and rode at toward the rocks. Tom continued to make them pay for following him. He'd hit another three men when shots erupted from behind him. He turned and saw McCoy leading a troop of U.S. Army cavalry. Thirty soldiers joined by McCoy charged the Comancheros. Justin, John, and Etta stopped by Tom's position. John handed the young deputy a canteen and Etta jumped off her horse and hugged him.

After taking a big drink from the canteen Tom said, "Sure took y'all long enough. What'd you do stop for coffee?"

"Didn't think you'd like us spoiling your fun," Justin teased.

"If we'd waited another hour you'd probably been settin here waiting on us all alone," John said with a laugh. "There were about 20 men came out of that canyon after us. Looks like there's only about ten left." He sobered a little and added, "Don't reckon it pays to chase after Deputy Boone now do it?"

"I'm right glad to see you boys, I was about done in," Tom replied in a serious tone. "My horse couldn't have gone much farther."

The three friends shook hands, sort of embarrassed by their feeling for each other. It was also awkward because Etta was hanging on to Tom's right arm and didn't seem to want to let go.

"There goes Texas Jack," John said pointing toward the outlaws. "He's the one with the long hair on that buckskin."

Jack and four of his men had left the others to fight the cavalry and rode back at a gallop back toward Perdition.

"Cowardly," Justin said. "But smart. Using the others to hold off the soldiers while he gets away."

"He's not getting away, he's just delaying it," Tom said. His eyes were cold and hard. "Not this time Jack," he added as he watched the leader of the Comancheros escape. Stepping past Etta Tom mounted Cochise.

"Tom, let the Army take care of him," Etta said as she touched his leg.

"He got away after killing my Pa; he's gotten away with a lot but no more. I'm going to finish this today. You boys make sure Etta gets home, I'm going after Jack."

"Don't think so Tom; we're going with you," John said and Justin nodded in agreement. "Figure I owe that bunch too. Never did like being forced to run from a fight and now I don't have to."

McCoy came back to join them as the soldiers had surrounded the bandits and the few that were left were surrendering. "Howdy Tom. Looks like we got here in time. Now tell me son, would an extra two or three days have made that much difference?"

"Yes sir, it would have. Jack was planning on taking Etta down to Sonora today. We'd been too late to stop him if I'd waited."

"See your point. It's good that other than a few Comancheros nobody got hurt bad. Etta is as mad as a wet hen but she's fine otherwise."

"Please get her a horse and take her back with you Ted," Tom requested. "How's your horses boys?" He asked Justin and John. "They ready for some hard riding?" Both men nodded and Tom kicked Cochise into a fast lope back toward Perdition.

The sun was rising over the Alvarez Mountains when Tom, Justin, and John got to the trail head leading into the box canyon. On either side of the narrow entrance to the canyon, the rock wall of the mountains rose almost vertically over two hundred feet in some places.

They stopped their horses behind the first pile of rocks blocking the wagon trail. The rump of a horse was just disappearing behind the next obstacle. "We're a little late; they got here before us. How we gonna work this Tom?" John asked as he checked the loads in his pistol.

"Been thinkin on that as we rode. The first look out is usually bout half way down the trail there. They usually ask your business before they raise a fuss. None of the people left are Texas Jack's men so we might be able to talk our way in; considering the beatin Jack and his boys just took."

"We'd still be in the middle of a hornet's nest once we got in there," Justin said.

"May be but if we tell those left that there's a troop of cavalry following and all we want is Jack; they might just let us have him. Then it'd be Jack and his four against us. Don't like the odds none but don't know any I'd rather face them with than you boys." Tom checked his Remington and then his Winchester. "What'da you think?"

John reached over and pull Tom's 10 gauge coach gun from its scabbard. "I say if you let me use this scatter gun I'll ride in with you." He gave Justine a feeble smile. "I ain't much on fast draw but with this I don't have to be."

"That's okay John," Justin threw in. "Tom and I are used to a fast draw and fast shootin. You do what you need to and we'll take care of the rest." Turning to Tom he said, "Let's ride; we got a long trip back to Etta and Theresa."

Tom led the way as they slowly rode around the obstacles in their path. As they approached the half way point, a guard challenged them. "What do y'all want and who are you?" He yelled from his hiding place.

"I'm Deputy U.S. Marshal Tom Boone. We've come after Texas Jack and all that follow him."

The guard peeked over the rock and saw the Marshal's star on Tom's dark shirt. "I can't rightly let you in Marshal. Boss would have my hide."

"You got a way to get him out here to talk to me?"

"I got this big dinner bell here. If I bang on it, he and the others will come running."

"Bang on the bell Mister. I got a proposition for your boss and the rest of you."

The guard picked up a miner's hammer and beat on the large bell. The sound bounced off the cliffs and echoed down the canyon. It took less than three minutes for ten or so men to ride to the guard station.

"Who are you?" A heavy set man with an eye patch yelled.

"He's a Deputy Marshal," the guard said before Tom could answer. "Says he's after Texas Jack. Says he's got a proposition for us."

"Shut up Zeb." Turning back to Tom the boss man asked, "That right? You the law?"

"Deputy U.S. Marshal Tom Boone. Like your man said, we're here for Texas Jack. And any of his men that come back with him."

"I've heard of you Boone. I'm Ned Stevens." Ned scratched at his beard for a few seconds. "Jack and his boys looked rite beat up when the rode in. You do that to em?"

"Me, these two, and 30 or so U.S. Calvary. The soldiers are an hour or two behind us headed this way."

"What's your proposition Marshal?"

"Let us come in and get Jack or you send him out. If you don't interfere y'all can go on your way. Makes no difference to me but I aim to have him before the day is over."

"What about those Army boys?"

"There's enough of them to root you out but once I get Jack and his men, they won't come after you. At least not this time. I give you my word. After that, quien sabe...You're on your own."

"Not wishin anything bad on you Boone but what happens to your word if Jack kills you. Where would I be then?"

"Marshal McCoy is ridin with the Calvary. I'll write a short letter to him explaining your part in this. He'll honor my word."

"Could you write that letter before the shootin starts Boone," Stevens asked.

"Get me some paper and something to write with and I'll do her right now."

Stevens turned to one of his men. "You still writin in that journal of yourn?" The man nodded. "Give the Marshal a page out of your book." The man rode over and handed Tom his journal and the stub of a pencil.

Tom crossed his right leg across his saddle forward of the horn and rested the book on his leg. He picked a blank page and wrote a short message to McCoy. Tom motioned and the owner of the journal took it back to Stevens. Ned read the note and nodded.

"Give us a few minutes to get Jack on his way Boone," Stevens said. "And good luck; never did cotton much to Jack and his orders." Stevens turned his horse and with his men following him he rode back toward the village. The guard was now sitting on the rock he'd hid behind watching with wide eyes.

"It's been fifteen minutes Tom," John said. They'd been sitting almost motionless on their horses.

"I think Jack is trying to talk his way out of this." Tom looked up at the sounds of horses coming their way. He pointed with his chin beyond the last pile of rocks. Texas Jack and his four men were being herded at gun point toward the trail. "Don't look like he won the argument."

Stevens called a halt in the last open area before the obstructions on the wagon trail. "Don't come back," he instructed. "Jack, if you and your boys get past the Marshal, don't come back."

"Damn you Stevens. I've brought a lot of money and supplies to this town," Jack protested. "Hell I shared everything we'd get from our raids and such. You'll just dry up and die without me."

"You also brought a lot of attention to us and now you've brought the Army down on us. Perdition was here before you came and it'll be here after you go." Stevens pulled his pistol and pointed at Jack. "Ride out Jack, while you still can," he ordered.

Jack turned his horse back toward where Tom and his friends waited. His men spread out with two on either side of their boss. For the first time Tom got a close look at the infamous Texas Jack Billings.

He was a big man standing well over 6 feet. Jack's horse was a big animal because at 250 pounds a smaller horse couldn't carry Jack's weight. He had dark, almost beady eyes and wore his dirty, greasy, black hair long down to his shoulders. On his head he wore a flat crowned wide brimmed hat. Jack carried two pistols; the one on his right was worn low and tied down, the left pistol was at his waist with the butt facing forward.

"Jack Billings, you're under arrest," Tom called across the space separating the two factions. "Drop your pistols."

"I like the name Texas Jack a bit better sonny," Jack replied. "Whose gonna take me in? You?"

"I'm Deputy Marshal Tom Boone and that is my intention. You and you're men are coming with us; on your saddles or face down across them. It doesn't make a difference to me but you are coming with us."

"You're out numbered Marshal," Jack's voice was full of scorn. "We'll shoot you down and ride over your bodies on our way out."

"I'm done talkin Billings. One last time drop your guns and surrender."

"To hell with you," Jack screamed and pulled at his pistol. His men went for their guns at the same time.

On Tom's left, John fired one barrel of the coach gun knocking the man across from him out of the saddle. On the right Justin drew and fired. He hit the man on the end of the line in the chest and quickly turned toward the next man. Before that man could fire, Justin put a bullet through his head.

Sitting between John and Justin, Tom drew his Remington and shot Texas Jack twice; once in the chest and the other in the head. He fired at the next man and hit him just as John's second blast from the scatter gun also hit him. The man crumpled and fell off his horse; dead before he left his saddle.

"Everybody okay?" Tom asked. "Anyone get hit?"

"Think I'm nominated," John replied. He was holding his off hand over a wound in his side. "Ain't bad though. Nothing that a little whiskey wouldn't cure."

Tom turned to Justin and his friend smiled and nodded. "Can we go home now Tom? My wife is waiting for me. She was really mad when I decided to come with you and I'd like to start makin it up to her."

Stevens and his men had sat on their horses and watched the small battle from behind a big pile of rocks about a hundred feet away. He rode closer to Tom. "Reckon I'm glad it was Jack facin you and not me Marshal. I think y'all might be a hand full." He laughed a little and asked, "You gonna keep you word about those Army boys?"

"Yes sir, I will," Tom answered. "But I heard that the Arizona Rangers were thinkin of coming to see about Perdition." Pointing at Texas Jack and his men Tom said, "With the Comancheros gone, they could figure taming this town might be worth the effort. Were I you, I'd be thinking about movin on."

"Fair enough Marshal. Maybe it is time for Perdition to die. Maybe time for us to move down into Old Mexico." Stevens tipped his hat at Tom. "Good luck to you Boone. Nothin personal but I hope I never see you again."

"Could I get you to bury these men before you go?"

"You kilt em; you bury em if you want. Makes no never mind to me," Stevens replied. "If you leave em we'll just ride around em. Adios Marshal."

Stevens and his men, including Zeb the guard, rode back to Perdition.

"Looks like all the funs over with," John said with a grin. "Guess it's time for us to head home. He had made a bandage out of his bandana and used a piece of rawhide to tie it against his wound. "I'll have that old Mexican women back in Agua Fria tend to it."

"You want to bury those men?" Justin asked Tom. "They never stopped to bury any of the people they robbed and killed. Heard tell they even burned some of the bodies. Far as I'm concerned they can lay where they are." He spit on the ground near Texas Jack.

Tom heard the sound of a horse and looked back toward Perdition. The guard they knew as Zeb was trotting his horse back toward them. He was carrying a large burlap sack.

"Ned said to give you these oats for your horses. Said you could water your animals at the spring branch yonder. Said it was a thank you for keepin your word." Zeb dropped the sack, turned his horse and returned to the village.

"Looks like you made a friend" Justin joked to Tom.

"Not his friend," Tom replied not liking the joke. "I see him or his men tomorrow and I'll arrest them."

"Take it easy Tom," John said. "Justin was only joshin you."

Tom hung his head a little and his face got red. "Sorry Justin; must be more wore out than I thought. Let's water the horses and head out.

They rode to the stream flowing along the rock bluff to their right. There was a small pool where the water collected before the stream went under the wall. As they watered and fed the horses, Tom looked back at Perdition. It was a bee hive of activity. Stevens and his men were loading everything of value onto wagons, on to pack horses, and filling up some two wheel carts. A dozen horses and twice that many cattle were being gathered for a drive.

"Looks like Stevens decided to heed your warnin," John remarked.

"Never saw so many people makin such a fuss," Justine said.

"Let's get back to Tucson," Tom suggested. "I've had about enough of the Alvarez Mountains."

The three friends mounted and made their way along the meandering trail back to the mouth of the box canyon. Tom looked at the bodies of Jack and his men as he rode past. "Guess we'll just leave em here. It's all they deserve," Tom said and rode on.

They rode at a slow lope for a half an hour and then slowed to a walk to rest their horses. About an hour from the mouth of the canyon they saw McCoy and the soldiers coming their way; riding hard. In the middle of the soldier's two by two formation, Etta rode with a grizzled old sergeant.

"I tried to send her with a couple of soldiers back to Tucson," McCoy said in greeting and pointed his chin at Etta. "She wouldn't go. Said she wanted to wait for you." He chuckled. "She's almost as stubborn as my wife."

"Sounds just like Theresa," Justin offered. Turning toward Tom he said, "Y'all gonna have your hands full with that one."

Tom grinned and replied, "Maybe so, but it'll be worth it. Don't you think?"

Etta rode her horse out of the protective formation and came over to Tom. "Are you alright?"

Tom reined Cochise so he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Etta's horse. He took Etta's hand. "I'm fine, John got nicked but not bad. I'm just glad that you're safe."

Etta grabbed Tom's shoulder and pulled herself onto Cochise, sitting on the saddle in front of him. "You rescued me, in spite of all those men in that horrible village, you rescued me," Etta said. She put her arms around Tom and hugged him.

Tom returned the hug and then pulled back a little. "Best get on your horse; we need to head back to Tucson."

The young Lieutenant, one Miles Purdue, leading the troops turned to his men. "Sergeant, we're going to destroy Perdition and rid the countryside of those murdering scum. Column of twos, rifles at the ready. When we get into that canyon, we'll spread out into a skirmish line and charge."

"Hold on Lieutenant Purdue," Tom requested. He pulled the Lieutenant aside then explained what had happened in the box canyon and the help that Ned Stevens had been. "You boys chewed up those Comancheros pretty good out on the desert flats the other day. And me and my friends took care of the rest. Texas Jack and what was left of his Comancheros are dead."

Tom paused for a few seconds and continued. "I gave Stevens my word that he and his men could ride on. I'd appreciate you honoring my promise."

"But this is a chance to clean out that hell hole," the Lieutenant protested.

"Stevens and his men are headed down to old Mexico right now. By the time you get back they'll be mostly gone and you'll end up watchin em ride across the border. Let em be Miles." Tom smiled and added, "There'll be other chances for you to make a name for yourself."

"Remember if it hadn't a been for you and your men Lieutenant, we'd a never been able to rescue Miss Bronson," McCoy said. "That should be a satisfying feeling and folks will hear about it. You mark my words."

Purdue thought for a little while. "New orders Sergeant. Let's get these people safely back to Tucson."

They made camp at Agua Fria that evening; they would make the final push back to Tucson the next day. John had his wound tended to by the old lady who worked in the cantina.

"C'mon boys, I'm buyin," he said as he walked to the makeshift bar. Tom and Justine accepted a glass of tequila and they toasted each other.

"Must be gettin old," Justin said. "These shoot outs aren't as much fun as they were ten, fifteen years ago."

"Not gettin old Justin," Tom replied. "You've just got someone at home to care about and who cares about you. Wish I did."

"You know this village ain't exactly a paradise," John said to lighten the conversation up. "It's in the middle of miles and miles of nothin and it's got bad water. If I owned Hell and Agua Fria, I'd live in Hell and rent this place out to the Devil."

"Maybe so, but the tequila's good," Justin replied. "Think I'll have another before I turn in."

The men returned to the camp and turned in for the night; they would be getting an early start the next morning. Tom spread his bedroll a little away from the others, using his saddle to rest his head. Be the first night in a while that we don't have to stand watch, he thought. Got a whole troop of soldier boys to take care of that.

He was almost asleep when he sensed someone coming toward him. Tom had put his pistol belt near at hand and he slowly reached over to his Remington.

"Tom, you awake?" Etta asked in a whisper.

"Am now."

"Could I sit with you a spell? I had nightmare that I was still with Texas Jack and his bunch."

"Sure you can." Tom replied and sat up.

Etta quick stepped to Tom's side and dropped down on his bedroll. She pulled his arm around her and laid down, bringing Tom down with her. Putting her head on his chest she snuggled up against him and went to sleep.

The next morning Tom woke at dawn and looked at Etta sleeping on and next to him. He gently pulled his arm from under her and stood up. Damn, he thought, arm's asleep. Tom rubbed and shook his arm as he went to check on Cochise.

The troop got organized and shortly after sun up they started on the trail. It would take the soldiers over a day to make it back to Tucson. McCoy had left a couple of the townspeople in charge but he didn't want to leave the town unguarded any longer than necessary. Tom and his little group along with McCoy pushed their horses a little harder. They would arrive just before dusk.

They were at a walk to rest the horses and Tom had to smile at Cochise. The big horse had made a hard run to Agua Fria and on to Perdition. Then he carried Etta back to meet McCoy and the soldiers. Tom had pushed the horse trying to catch Texas Jack before he returned to Perdition. In spite of the hard riding and difficult trails Cochise didn't like being held at the slower pace of the other horses.

"I know you want to streak up the trail and show everybody how fast you are," Tom said in a low voice as he leaned over Cochise's neck. "But take it easy. When we get back and get everyone settled I'll take you out for a run."
Etta had been riding by Tom's side; she hadn't been more than an arm's reach away from him the whole time. "He's a strong horse," she said as she watched Tom talk to Cochise. "John and Justin had a difficult time keeping up with him when we rode back to meet Marshal McCoy. I tried to rein him in, but he's a stubborn animal." Etta smiled at Tom and teased, "Just like his owner."

The sun was setting as they stopped in front of the Marshal's office. "Beds gonna feel good tonight," McCoy said as he dismounted. "I'm gettin too old for this I guess." He walked his horse to the livery stable and returned to his office. "Got to do the damn paperwork before I can turn in. See you boys tomorrow."

"Thanks for the help boys," Tom said to his friends. "Reckon it would've been a mite more interestin without you."

"Yes, thank you so much," Etta echoed.

"Think my credits good at the saloon?" John asked. "Feel like a whiskey or two."

"Tell the barkeep I'll stand good for it," Tom answered. Turning he asked, "You headed back to your ranch Justin?"

"Planned to, but look comin down the street there," he replied and pointed at his wife Theresa walking toward them. "Believe I'm gonna be a guest at the hotel tonight."

Theresa broke into a run when she got closer. She threw herself into Justin's arms, kissing him on both cheeks and finally the lips. "Come with me Corazon, I have a room for us at the hotel. You need a bath and some time with your wife."

Justin smiled at Tom and Etta over Theresa's shoulder. "I'll see y'all in a day or two. Don't know how long this is gonna take." Etta giggled and Tom laughed as Justin and Theresa walked toward the hotel.

"I could use a bath and some rest too. Will I see you tomorrow?" Etta asked.

"If you like we can get breakfast at the café in the morning," Tom suggested.

Etta nodded and said, "See you at eight." She turned and followed Justin and Theresa to the hotel.

********************

The spring weather in southern Arizona was perfect for two young people who were courting and falling in love. Cool mornings and warm afternoons were perfect for them to explore the desert and mountains surrounding Tucson by horseback or buggy.

It was obvious to everyone who saw them, where Tom and Etta were headed. McCoy, more than once, wondered if he would lose his deputy when the couple got hitched. Be hard to find a man to replace Tom, he thought.

Tom and Etta had planned on going to a church social and he was on his way to the hotel to meet her. As Tom stepped up onto the boardwalk in front of the hotel he saw Etta in the lobby talking to a tall, dark haired man. She had tears in her eyes and shook her head. The man took Etta's hand and continued to talk to her. Tom watched for two or three minutes and walked into the hotel lobby.

Etta turned and saw Tom. Her eyes opened wide and she put her hands to her face. "Oh no," she said and run up the stairs to her room. Tom and the man watched her leave.

Tom was straight forward type. He turned to the young man and asked, "Who are you and what do you want with Etta?"

"What business is it of yours?"

Pulling his frock coat to one side, Tom showed his Marshal's star pinned to his shirt. "I'm a Deputy Marshal and the man that's about to put a whippin on you if you don't answer my questions."

The man saw the hard look in Tom's eyes and felt the anger rolling off of the deputy. "My name's William Sanders."

"You're the one that Etta was engaged to back in Texas," Tom said, more a statement than a question.

"Yeah. And letting her leave is the biggest mistake I ever made." William sighed, swallowed hard and continued, "I told my folks I was going to find Etta and marry her and it didn't matter what they thought. It took me awhile to find out where Etta had gone but now that I found her I'm going to ask her to come back and marry me."

Tom had what was known as a poker face; he seldom let his emotions or what he was thinking show on his face. But this time it was all he could do not to let his feelings show. His first reaction was to pistol whip William, drag him outside and put him on a stage back to Texas. Then Tom calmed down. He realized that if he and Etta were going to be together, it would have to be her decision. Not a decision he'd made for her by getting rid of William.

"Go into the hotel bar William. I'll go get Etta." Tom took the stairs to the second floor, went to Etta's room, and knocked on the door.

"Etta, open the door. You're gonna have to face this sometime. Might as well be now." Tom waited for a minute and Etta opened the door.

She had tears in her eyes and was shaking. Tom patted her on the shoulder.

"William explained what he's doing here. I think we need to talk a bit."

"Oh Tom. He asked me to go back and marry him. William said he told his folks he was going marry me no matter what they thought."

"I know. He told me that. What are you going to do Etta?"

One of the guests came out of his room and walked down the hall. "Evening Deputy," he said as he got closer.

Tom nodded and turned back to Etta. The guest had no idea why but he could feel the tension and quickly hurried down the stairs.

"I don't know Tom." Etta sighed and leaned against the door jamb. "I loved William, maybe I still do. I know that if he'd stood up to his parents back then, I would have married him. Now I've met you and my feelings are all mixed up."

"Don't want to throw more at you Etta, but I got to tell you that I love you. Was gonna ask you to marry me tonight." Tom gave her a small wiry grin. "Guess that's a little more for you to think about." He showed her the ring he'd just bought that day.

"Oh Tom," Etta responded and started to cry again.

"William's down in the hotel bar. If you want, go talk to him. I'll tell him to leave you alone until you want to see him. I won't bother you until you're ready to talk to me." Tom leaned over and kissed Etta's cheek and left her standing in her doorway.

Once down stairs Tom went into the saloon. William was leaning against the bar staring into a glass of whiskey. Tom walked over to him and motioned to the bartender for a drink. He took a sip of the harsh whiskey.

"Hell of a mess, ain't it?" Tom asked. William looked at Tom in surprise.

"Etta and me, well it's been Etta and me for awhile," Tom said. "Right now she's all mixed up. Don't know what to say or what to do." He took another drink. "So here's how it's gonna play out William. You're not to bother her until she wants to see you. Understand? You don't go near her until she asks for you."

"Marshal or no, you got no right to tell me what I can do with Etta," William replied heatedly.

"Son, Deputy Marshal's got nothing to do with this. I'm Etta's friend and I won't have her put upon." Tom was only a couple of years older than Sanders but his presence was of an older much more experienced man.

"And what will you do if I don't agree?"

"I'll pistol whip you so bad even your Ma wouldn't recognize you. That's not the law, that's just man to man. Now leave her alone. If I hear you bothered her, it won't go well for you." Tom finished his drink, left the room and returned to the Marshal's office.

No one was in the office; McCoy was making his before supper rounds of the town. He'd stop at the café and eat before returning so Tom had an hour or so to himself.

He got a cup of coffee from the ever present pot and sat behind the desk.

"Well hell," Tom said to the empty room.

********************

Marshal Tom Boone sat on the boardwalk in front of his office. His chair was leaning back and one boot rested on the rail in front of him. He was relaxed and watched as people moved up and down the main street. Town's growing, he thought. Gonna have to hire another deputy fore too long.

It had been a little over a year since Etta had decided to go back to Texas and marry William Sanders. She had tearfully kissed Tom one last time just before she got on the stage with Sanders.

"I'm sorry Tom," she said softly.

"Don't be Etta. You got to go where your heart leads you girl. Have a good life." Tom turned and walked away, not wanting her to see the tears in his eyes.

If Deputy U.S. Marshal Tom Boone had been a terror to rustlers, bandits and thieves before, he was Hell on an Appaloosa after Etta left. The Marshal's district that encompassed Tucson quickly became the area with the least amount of outlaw activity in the Southwest. The lawless decided that rather than have Boone on their trail, there were better places to ply their trade.

Marshal McCoy felt his statement "I'm gettin too old for this" was true. He retired shortly after Etta left and Tom was promoted to Marshal.

Sometimes Tom thought about Etta and what might have been but for the last two months those times were fewer and farther apart. Justin's wife had a younger sister that had been living in Magdalena. Pilar came for a visit and never went back. Once Pilar decided to stay, the first thing Theresa did was invite Tom out to the ranch for Sunday supper.

Pilar was a younger version of Theresa. She had the same long dark, almost black hair that hung down to her waist; she had the same slender but strong build and the same flashing eyes.

Theresa was his friend and Pilar was so much like her that Tom was taken with her at that first meeting. That supper led to others and Tom spent a lot of time out at Justin's ranch.

She sure is an eyeful, Tom thought sitting on his chair. He stood and walked into his office to write the notice for the newspaper about hiring another deputy.

He kept losing his thought because he kept thinking about Pilar. Got to do something, Tom thought.

"Hell, maybe I'm not supposed to be alone after all," he said to the empty office.

The End