American library books » Biography & Autobiography » the Gentleman Gunfighter by C. F. Allison (which ebook reader .txt) 📕

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a man of my word.” He told Jack, and then rode off ahead out of sight.

Just over the next ridge Clay came into view of a campfire. He tethered his horse to a near by bush and eased up on it as quiet as a church mouse. It was them all right. He could tell from the description of the men Jack had given him the night before. Clay snuck his way back to his horse and rode back to his own camp to get the others.

When he got back to his own campsite John was still setting things out that would be needed for camp that night. “Don’t bother little brother, let’s mount up.” Clay ordered. With out a word or a question, the three of them climbed on top of their horses and followed Clay’s lead. “The men we’re tracking have a camp just over the next ridge.” Clay told everyone. “What I want to do is cover it from four corners so we can get the drop on ‘em. I’ll walk into their camp, and when you see me slap leather, I want you three to cock your rifles. That will get their attention enough I won’t have to kill ‘em right then and there. Everybody got it?” Everyone acknowledged the plan in confirmation. Clay asked if there were any questions before the plan went into action, and everyone said it was perfectly understood.

Again, Clay tethered his horse at the small bush he had tied to before and the three partners did the same. Clay showed each of them where exactly he wanted them to be positioned before calling out to the camp. Then he called out to the men around the fire. “Hey you in the camp there. Mind if I come in?” One of the men called back to him, “Yeah, we mind.” Clay walked into the light anyway and said, “Now that’s not very neighborly of you mister.” The two men grabbed for their pistols but Clay had out drawn and cocked his before they had even gotten their hands on the butts of theirs good. As they heard the sounds of rifles cocking all around them Clay said, “Now that’s really not very neighborly of you boys.” The two men decided they weren’t fast enough to win so they raised their hands in surrender. “Now you two, put them pistol belts on the ground real slow you hear me. I want to count them hairs on your hands doing it.” Clay ordered. The two outlaws complied reluctantly. “Come on in boys!” Clay called out to the others. They sent Mario to go and get the horses, and Clay wandered off in a different direction in search of something else. All he would tell anyone was that he would be right back and for Jack and John to tie the two men up and wait until he returned before doing anything.

Mario had already returned with the horses, and John had made some coffee when Clay returned to the campsite. He was holding a couple of short tree braches. John gave him a cup of the coffee and asked what he intended with the branches, but Clay just grinned and whittled on them as he sipped at his cup looking towards the two tied up woman killers every once and a while. Jack went and sat beside him. After a short while he asked, “What’s the plan now Clay?” Clay smiled and replied to him, “Patience my friend, you’re going to like it, I promise you.”

It took twenty minutes before Clay finished making the two newly fashioned arrows. “Get a horse and drag that big log over there into the light.” As John did what he was told, Clay told Jack and Mario to yank the britches off of the two prisoners. “And you two good for nothings let ‘em!” he ordered. One of the men shouting out in protest, “What you fixing on doing? You aint bending me over no log you sick bastards!” He shouted in desperation. Clay hit the man in the mouth with his rifle butt knocking out a few teeth with the move, then pointed the barrel straight at the man's head saying in a low calm voice, “Not another word, you hear me. You two are the only sick bastards around here. I got some good news though. We’re the cure for what ‘ails ya.”

John had gotten the big log into place like Clay had instructed him to do. Clay told Mario and Jack to walk the two bottomless men over to it. The men didn’t try to resist. Neither one of them wanted to taste the rifle butt again. “Now boys, I want you to sit on that big stick like it’s a horse back to back and about a foot apart.” Clay ordered the men. He then had John tie their ankles together so they couldn’t dismount the wooden steed. Then he handed Jack the two short hand made arrows. He had Mario, and John hold the prisoners still one at a time as he and Jack took a pistol butt and nailed each one’s manhood to the giant log. He kept telling the two men, “Shut up you cry baby! You weren’t whining when you were raping and killing this mans family you cowards!” Slapping each man in the head while he was yelling at them. Sometime during all this the two men passed out from the pain being inflicted on them. After Jack was finished nailing them to the log, the four avengers sat around and drank some whiskey they had found in the two men’s supplies and discussed what was to be done next while they waited for their prisoners to come too.

“You sure were right Clay, I liked the shit out of what you did. Are we gonna cut ‘em off after those boys come too?” Clay smiled a big evil looking grin and said, “Nope, they are.” Jack just couldn’t imagine in his wildest thoughts how Clay was going to manage to get them to do that with all the fuss they made about being nailed to the log. “You’ll see.” Clay said stabbing a large Bowie knife in front of each outlaw. Then he untied their hands and went back to waiting for them to wake up while he drank more whiskey.

The prisoners started to come around with the help of John throwing some water on them from a nearby creek. They saw the knives stunk into the log in front of them and began to wonder what to expect next horrified at the thoughts running through their minds. Clay called Jack to one end of the log, and Mario to the other handing both of them a match. Then he dowsed each end with Kerosene snickering and looking at the rapist while he did it. After a brief moment, he told Jack and Mario, “Light ‘em up boys and you two can cut ‘em off or burn.”

The four of them sat around the campfire drinking what was left of the whiskey and watching in anticipation of what the two outlaws were going to do. They could hear the two men cursing and whining about their situation, but had no compassion for them. The fire was getting real close to the men when one of them, now getting burns suddenly grabbed the knife in front of him and plunged it into his own chest killing himself. “I didn’t see that one coming.” Clay laughed. Right then the other man shouted, “Well Shit!” And sliced off his manhood crying out in pain. Clay laughed out even louder at this development and looked at Jack saying, “Brings a whole new meaning to the term weenie roast don’t it.” Then he turned his attention to the second rapist quickly drawing his six-shooter and putting a bullet between the man’s eyes.

The four executioners only dug one hole and threw both scoundrels into it. In their opinion these two didn’t deserve a grave of their own, or a decent burial. They made a sign to mark it though that said, “Here lie’s two rapist / murderers. They don’t deserve a tombstone with their names on it. Piss here to water the grass. May their souls rot in hell.”

The next morning came, and the four of them had overslept from having such a late night the evening before. The four of them decided to keep traveling together, and they all started off towards Dodge City late in the afternoon in hopes there was still a need for trail hands there. Clay and John’s new friends were quiet for most of the day. Clay figured it was because they had never been involved in killing a man before. That sort of thing takes getting used too, and some men just aren’t made to handle doing it. That was nothing to be ashamed of. It was just how things were. Justice was served, but it had left a bad taste in Jacks mouth. It just wasn’t as satisfying as he thought it would be. He had a sick at his stomach feeling and thought he was going to throw up at any time. He didn’t really know how it was going to make him feel, but he certainly didn’t think it was going to be a feeling like this.

The day was starting to pass on by fairly quickly and the uneasy feeling in Jack’s stomach was starting to ease somewhat. At least, it didn’t seem to be bothering him like it was earlier in the day. A small town was beginning to come into sight and Clay suggested they rest there for the night before pressing on. They could sell the two horses and personals they had picked up the night before, and re-supply their selves. Then get a fresh start in the morning.

They arrived in town and made their way toward the local hotel. They got checked in and decided to get something to eat. Clay wanted to get a quick drink before dinner so he went to the local saloon. As he walked in, as usual he looked around to scope the place out. It looked like your average small town poker hall. Poker tables, Piano, a Bar and furnishings such as that. Behind the bar was a large mirror. You could see everything going on behind you in it while you enjoyed your favorite drink and relaxed. Clay liked that. He had gotten into the habit of never leaving his back open for anyone to sneak up from behind him and shoot him in the back. A habit most gunslingers got into. A good practice to be in if you had very many notches on your pistol too. It seemed there was always a son, brother, or cousin looking for revenge. Clay knew he had his share of those to look out for. This seemed like a friendly sort of town though, and Clay wasn’t too worried about it.
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