Original Work The Stuarts of Texas

Col Stuart completed the basic list of clothing his wife would need on the trip to Texas. Knowing without a doubt that she would consider it totally inadequate and try to at least quadruple the amount. Calling Samantha in, he handed her the list and watched with amusement as she scanned the list, looked bewildered, and read it again.

With color rising in her cheeks, she asked. “What is this supposed to be? I thought we were taking as much as we could to Texas, this isn’t even enough for a week much less a long trip into the wilderness!”

“It’s what we will have to get by with for the time being.” He said with a slight smile. “Besides, we can get more when we arrive.”

“What about my gowns, frocks, shoes, hats, furs, and unmentionables? I do not see them on the list, and again, this is only enough for a week or so, NOT a long one way trip to another state to take up residence. This list is unacceptably short!” She fumed.

“Look my dear, this is more than you will need until we reach Texas. Once there, we can send for all your other things to be shipped out there. And as I said, we can purchase new items once we get there.”

“It will take months for us to reach the Texas border, and I absolutely cannot make do with this meager supply of clothing. I will decide what I’m bringing along as you do not understand a woman’s needs” Samantha said.

“Dearest, you must trust me. We will be traveling very light, and making very good time. You will not need more than this. Please keep your dark green dress ready for wear, as that is what you will need when we leave.”

“I will not wear that drab dress anywhere, much less when we leave. I’ve been planning on wearing my gray riding outfit on the first day then daily changing clothing as the mood or situation suits me.” She replied with a pout.

“We can’t do that. Everything on that list covered what you will need for the trip and you simply must wear the green dress. I can’t tell you why, you have to trust me on this. Have I ever done anything that wasn’t in your best interest?”

Samantha stood pensive for a moment then searched her husband’s eyes for any hint of more information. None was to be had. “What is to become of all my beautiful clothes?” She asked.

“Like I said, we can box up everything and have it shipped to us later. What is on the lists is more than what we will need for the trip. I can’t tell you anything more than that. Everything must be done with the utmost secrecy, even our destination must be kept secret lest an accidental slip be the ruin of us all. Please pack all of your and Angeline’s stuff into the smallest trunk you can, and I will pack for my self and the boys.”

 

Rummaging around in the plantations hidden Arms Room, Col. Stuart found what he needed, a heavily used and a bit rusty Colt’s .36 Navy revolver. Disassembling the revolver, he inspected its condition and found that it would suit his needs. The good Col. then placed the cylinder open end down on a piece of paper and traced the circumference with a pencil and placed the tracing in his pocket. Picking up a small file, an awl, and a piece of fine wire he went to the table . He then made a single wrap around the cylinder at the alignment notches then held it up to the light for inspection. Finding the wire wrap acceptable he took the awl and made a scratch around the circumference, carefully inspected it, then removed the wire and began hand filing a groove around the cylinder. It took the better part of an hour to accomplish this to his satisfaction.

Next came the hard part. Col. Stuart removed the cap nipples, two on each side leaving them separated by nipples on opposing sides. For the better part of 30 minutes, Stuart vigorously filed the back of the cylinder over the two sets of nippleless cylinders leaving a space that would expose the replaced nipples making them very easy to strike all at once.

Col. Stuart then took the long length of wire leaving the end about six inches long, began to wrap it around the cylinder into the groove and did not stop until the wire wrap formed a ring about 1/4” wider than the cylinder. He then cut the excess wire off and tied both ends together firmly. Testing the wire ring to ensure its rigidity and finding it satisfactory, he clipped the ends short then laid the cylinder on the table.

Going into the kitchen, he picked the two worse looking cast iron Dutch Ovens and carried them out to the blacksmith’s shop where Bart was busy making iron tires for the wagon wheels stacked up outside against the wall.

“Bart, do you have time this week to do a small favor for me?” Asked Stuart.

“You know I do Colonel, anything you want.” Replied Bart.

Lifting the two Dutch ovens to a work bench Col. Stuart said. “ I need you to hammer these two pots into small pieces no larger than about 1/4” or so in size. Not going to hold your feet to the fire on this, just get them uniform as you can without spending more time than needed on it.”

Withdrawing a folded diagram from his pocket, Col. Stuart handed the paper to Bart and said. “I also need you to make this for me, either from iron or steel. It has to be strong, and that bottom should be forged welded onto the upper but no gaps allowed. I want it to be roughly the size of your moonshine jug without the handle. It will need an inner liner made from just about anything but leaving 1/2” space between the liner and container wall all the way around. Please leave a hole in the top of the liner the diameter of this circle, and make an identical top the diameter of the container containing the same diameter hole in the center.”

Bart looked at the diagram for a moment then looked Col. Stuart in the eye, and said.” I can have these jobs completed in a week with all the stuff I have on hand now. Looks to me like you are planning something for someone.”

“That will be our little secret.” Said Stuart with a wink as he turned walked away heading for his next project.

 

That project sounds real interesting! I know what I'd do with it, just add two more items to make it complete and then SUPRISE! Very interesting indeed!

 

The Col. went to his basement and removed the junk that was in front of the cluttered book case, and swung it open on its hinges to reveal a hardened door that lead to a safe room. He entered and began carefully breaking down part of a brick interior wall on the backside of the safe room that had been constructed long ago when the mansion had been first built Col. Stuart carefully removed the bricks and stacked them along the side wall of the safe room. Inside the wall was revealed a strong box, heavily padlocked and sitting on a layer of bricks to protect the box from water had it entered the wall, which it did not. Hauling the strongbox out, Stuart placed it on a table then unlocked the padlocks. Flipping the lid up he examined the contents and was glad he had traded almost all of the silver for gold when the first rumblings of war began. He’d left only enough gold and silver for this possible emergency. The bulk of his fortune had been shipped to French banks and secured from the reach of the Federal govt. A trusted friend and lawyer in France had operational control of his shipping and business interests.

The Col. then removed the 50 lbs of gold ingots and replaced them with bricks. Then replacing the padlocks, shoved the strongbox back onto the stack of bricks. Carefully securing the area, he pushed the hinged book case back against the wall and laid dusty boxes and junk in front of it. Satisfied with his work, Col. Stuart dusted off his clothes and went upstairs to change clothes.

 

Not advocating or condoning any illegal or immoral activities, or the killing of protected species. Totally fictional events and people.

This is a jump forward in time and a bit of a test to see if it is interesting enough.

One year prior to Present Day Cross Roads, Texas.

The family reunion was going well, and everyone, family, friends, and a few associates were having a good time at the Stuart ranch. Being the first week in October made the weather pleasant and clear. The BBQ pits had been running constantly for the last three days and would continue until the week had completed. A Bluegrass band was in full swing with several people dancing, especially the children who seemed to take great delight in the tunes. Bagpipers would come later during their break.The dance tonight would be the standard Country music mixed with a little classic rock so everyone could have a varied experience. Morag, Charlie’s mother was the official hostess with backup from his sister Eileen, and cousin Kathy. Charles Jr. Charlie’s father was official host and was occupied with the male guests drinking coffee and discussing things like cattle prices, rodeos, and military subjects. Most all of the men were prior or current military service, and most were combat arms. Charles Sr. The patriarch of the family was holding court with the ranching oriented members in attendance.

Charlie disengaged himself from some of his idolaters and walked over to a shaded area and lowered his muscular frame into a chair. Seeing Eileen watching, he tilted his hand near his mouth requesting coffee. She stepped to the outdoor sink and poured a cup, eyed it dubiously then tasted the coffee. Finding it bitter and burnt she poured it out and started another pot, then turned and looked at Charlie tapping her watch. He nodded as he was very familiar with the Stuart women’s trait of testing everything to see if it was good enough to serve the recipient. The respect went both ways.

Charlie’s cousin Sean was dark where Charlie was blonde but also ruggedly built from the outdoor life came sauntering over and dragged a chair next to Charlie.

“How’s it going cuz?” Asked Charlie.

“Not bad, just been loafing around waiting for my next assignment.” He replied.

“How many did you get?”

“Took out three packs, totaling forty three, and got almost a dozen coyotes.”

“Good, that ought to help the elk population. Did anyone stay up there for the winter?”

“You know how Elmer hates the cold? Danged if him n Luke didn’t volunteer to stay thru the winter. I hate them Canadian greys too, but not enough to wade thru that snow all winter to kill ‘em.”

“Do they have enough supplies and money? We can send whatever they need. What about the Park Service, are they on to what’s been going on?”

“They have everything they need, and we linked up with that army buddy of yours so they have a place to stay when they need to thaw out. Outfitters and ranchers have been keeping tabs on the Park Service busybodies. I’m beginning to think they hate ungulates as they don’t seem too worried about their survival, just those damned wolves. I killed three wolves that were out killing fawns for fun. It kinda surprised me when the rest of the pack started coming my way and began encirclement.”

“What did you do?” Charlie asked in amusement.

“I stuck a fresh mag in the rifle, checked my pistol and changed position so they couldn’t get around behind me. Then stood up with my rifle at low ready”

“I assume you weren’t eaten.” Charlie calmly replied.

“Nope! The Alpha and Beta males came on like gangbusters followed by the pack and I dropped ‘em in their tracks. The rest of the pack scattered. Both those old boys weighed close to 150 lbs. Looked like 250 when they were running at me.”

“Police up all your brass I take it?”

“Yep, every piece. You were right about the .243 with special loads, I hit one at close to 1,200 yds as per the rangefinder. Most of ‘em were Bang Flops.”

“Good, while I don’t like to see anything suffer, I don’t like to see a joyous killer escape either.”

“Eileen is watching us.” Sean remarked while not looking directly at her.

“Yeah, she’s making some coffee, but is probably nosey concerning our present confab. I expect she’ll bring over two cups when it’s ready. She knows I’m not just taking care of regular business and it’s really bugging her as to what kinda monkey bidnez it is.” Charlie smiled.

“Speaking of which, you got anything for me to do?” Sean asked.

Charlie thought a moment before answering. “You’ve been pretty busy this summer between hauling livestock, recon, and shooting. Why don’t you and the boys take a couple of weeks off? Do some fishing, BBQing, drinking n chasing wimmin? The rest would do you good, as you’re starting to look a might feral right now. Non family members are starting to get a might nervous around you, especially the cops.” Charlie said pointedly.

“And here I was smelling flowers, thinking rainbow thoughts, and giving everybody the peace sign to no avail.”

“Pretty much.” Agreed Charlie.

“What’s going on down on the border, any news?”

“Much the same. Illegals and drugs flooding across worse than ever. Had to have been millions of them by now.” Stated Charlie.

“The boys told me that they’re ready to hit the border any time. We feel like we’ve been on vacation anyway.”

“I’m sure you do, but right now the Feds are on the lookout for Homegrown Vigilantes. You gents would stick out like rat sh—t in a sugar bowl. We need to let our gents from San Antonio handle it.”

“Makes sense, but I’d still like to head down thataway. Might be that something could pop up so to speak.” Sean said looking at Charlie with a hopeful eye.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but we have to be careful. There is more at stake than our vanities. Low key, slow and easy, then let ‘em try and figure out what exactly happened and who might have done it. It’s the only way.” Charlie finished.

“I understand.” Sighed Sean. “Unchecked speed would be the death of us all. Had to ask though.”

“I will have something for you some place below Austin in a couple of months. Narcos filled the vacuum we caused last spring, and we need to do a little background on them prior to contact. Once we get what is needed, you can take in a mix of old and new guys for the operation, it should be good experience.”

“Are we gonna take ‘em or something else?” Asked Sean.

“Take ‘em if you can, we need the info, at least two if possible. The rest can be left secured with the drugs and weapons for the cops, we’ll take the cash. Money is needed to cover operations so….”

“And here comes the coffee!” Said Sean.

 

Still Rebels!

 

And flying the flag too.

 

Col. Stuart sought out Flavius, his carpenter and general repairman. Flavius was a steady solid man that could be trusted to work alone and always got the job done and was very good at saving Stuart money from waste. With a sharp eye out for things that needed fixing Flavius was always busy. Stuart found him busy repairing a bad place on the utility shed roof. “Flavius, do you have a moment?”, asked Stuart.

“Be right down Colonel.”, came the reply. Flavius bounced down the ladder and stepped up to Stuart. “What can I do for you Colonel?”

“Flavius, I have a possibly dangerous job for you if you are interested. It contains a measure of risk, but has a nice payoff if you are interested” said Col. Stuart.

Flavius’ face lit up with a smile. He was always looking for extra money and had saved quite a nest egg. “Danger and a nice payoff huh? How much of a payoff will this be?”, he asked.

“It’s worth 100.00 to me if you can do the job right, and I will pay you in advance.”, said the Colonel.

“You wanting me to kill somebody?” , Flavius asked with a dubious look on his face.

“No, I want you to accidentally deliver some information to the Yankees for me. You may well get roughed up for your trouble though, and I want to make it worth your while.”

“OK, what do I need to do?”

“You and Bart will go to town in ten days, get “drunk” and sit under a certain window and hatch a plot against me. I have it all written out and you need to rehearse this until it sounds natural”, he said handing some papers to Flavius. “You gents need to practice this on the sly where no one can hear you, and get it down perfectly as my life and that of my family may well depend on it. You will notice that there is mention of hidden treasure in the house, but there is none there at all. Nothing. The Yankees won’t know that, and that’s what will count. If either of you go digging around something of great misfortune will happen to you I assure you. The carpetbaggers and some locals think I kept a great deal of money at home, and they will try and get it, only it ain’t there. Only a very nasty surprise awaits anyone foolish enough to go snooping around. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yessir you do. You’ve always been a man of your word, and I don’t expect that will change now.” , said Flavius.

“Good, I’ll get with you in a couple of days and work out some details and listen to you rehearse my little play.”

The men shook hands on the deal, and went their separate ways.

Note.
I did a minor change to post #93, next to last paragraph at the end so it would match up better to the direction I’m taking.

 

Jimbo, where are you?

 

Most of Col. Stuarts relatives had been easing quietly out of the area and on their way to Texas. None had been caught or stopped by Yankee soldiers. Had that happened, they would have found little or nothing. Only some old clothes, hand tools, and paltry food stuffs. No one would bother taking black eyed peas and cornmeal from destitute Southerners deserting their unsold farms and headed for greener pastures. If they did, it wasn’t a problem as Col. Stuart had arranged for money to be picked up in towns along the way to supply their needs.

Col. Stuart and his immediate family were on the coast having arrived two days prior in their light buggy with little more than the clothes on their back and the small suitcases indicating a short stay with relatives if they were questioned. No arms were carried save two older used Baby Colt revolvers of the sort used for self protection. If confiscated, it would be no big deal as they were easily replaceable, and had no martial air about them. The gold and silver were in a false bottom of the buggy that was so well hidden it was doubtful if it could be discovered. They would wait hidden in the small dense grove until nightfall when their escape vessel was scheduled to arrive. Plenty of heat, humidity and skeeters, but it was only for a short time.

A moonless night was prefect for their purposes, and along 12:00 AM the Colonel moved to the shoreline and lit the candle in the shielded lamp he had modified. The light was omitted in a narrow beam from the small opening and could only be seen from dead on. Nothing happened for a few minutes until Stuart saw some stars blotted out on the oceans horizon. He then rotated the lamp that direction exposing the light for a few seconds then covered the hole with his hand. A small light soon flashed three times across the water and Stuart replied with two short then one long light emission. The single short authentication light came from the ship off shore, so Stuart hurriedly moved to the small grove to retrieve his family and buggy. The family and baggage were moved to the shoreline, the horse turned loose, and Stuart opened the hidden compartment, removed the precious metals and cash, stuffing all into a thick bag then walked back to the shoreline.

Mrs. Stuart looked at her husband and nervously asked “I’m so scared! Are you sure we haven’t called in some pirates or Yankees bringing doom down on us all?”

“We’re alright my dear. Jean Pierre is the only one with the code that I arraigned for over two years ago. We are safe and our escape is at hand.” He said as he patted her trembling hand. Still with the jitters, she and the family waited for whatever was coming. Soon the sweep and clunking of oars was heard, followed soon after by the sound of the bow sliding into beach sand.

Col. Stuart made a kissing sound on the back of his hand that was used by squirrel hunters to get their attention and bring their heads around a branch for a look at the source. The sound was immediately returned and everyone relaxed.

A 6’4” athletic Frenchman whispered in a low voice “Allo my friend, it has been far too long! Hurry, there is a union ship in the neighborhood that almost saw us, but we evaded in the fog.”

The two men embraced and shook hands then they and the four sailors loaded everything into the boat and began rowing back to the waiting ship.

“My friend, we have much to talk about, but that can wait until we clear these waters. By the way, how is your French?” Asked Jean.

“Better than your lumberjack English you old pirate!” Came the whispered retort.

“HA! You must speak in a more respectful manner to an officer such as myself. Otherwise, I may have to shoot some of my men to maintain discipline!”

“Since when did pirates display discipline?” Asked Stuart.

“Sir, I am not a pirate! I am an officer of the line in the French navy!”

Stuart stared incredulously for a moment then asked. “When did that happen? I had no idea that the French navy was so short of men.”

“And why should I not take full advantage of that? There comes a time when a man must decide to change directions. To begin another life. A little contrition and a little gold can work wonders if shown to the proper person.” Jean said with a wicked smile.

 

Clambering abort the French vessel was an easy task, so the Stuarts and their scant luggage were soon deposited on the deck.

“I have a room set aside for you and your family. It is not fancy, but is adequate. You will be dining with myself and the other officers, and while the food is adequate it is not up to the quality one would desire” said Jean Pierre.

“I’m sure it will be more than sufficient, and I am grateful for the chance you are taking and all efforts made in our behalf” replied Stuart. “Were you able to acquire the documentation I requested?”

“Oui, all is in order. Our cargo/naval ship has all kinds of paperwork required for whatever situation we may find ourselves in. You are a former French Armee officer that is moving to Texas for your health: Bad lungs you know. Has everyone been studying their French language, history and geography lessons?”

All chimed in unison in French, effecting commonly known French mannerisms.

“Excellent my friends. I and one of the officers from a little known area near the German border will be working with you daily to cover your tracks as Southerners. We can’t have those uneducated louts detaining or arresting you out of spite. We will take our time getting to Houston so that you can easily pass any likely interrogation those traitors to the Republic might impose upon you. A complete wardrobe for each of you has been deposited in your room. We will hide your current clothes in the hold until arrival. Standard French weapons to include a well used Sabre and saddle have been supplied. Your money, all of it, is in Francs and nothing is new but either gently or heavily used as one would expect. No use giving a nosey officer an excuse to probe eh?” finished Jean Pierre.

Colonel Stuart replied in the affirmative in French and was awarded with an evil smile and nodding head from Jean Pierre.

“Now, look at me like a haughty French minor nobleman that is irritated by a lowly subordinate.”

Col. Stuart rose to his full height, looked down his nose and replied in perfect French and broken English, a blistering tirade covering the man’s incompetence, stupidity and lineage. JP danced with delight and ushered them to their room,.

 

Settled into their room, with the children in theirs, Col. Stuart was writing at the small desk against the wall and stopped when he realized that Samantha was watching him. Turning, he gave her a measured look, smiled and asked “What?”She looked at him a moment longer then asked. “What have you been up to the last two weeks? You were moving about like a spy, busy with many nefarious plans, then you began to look pensive and somewhat guilty. Now, you’ve changed and are more your normal self minus the concerns you have about this huge move to the wilds of Texas. What have you been up to?”

“My Dear, It seems I cannot keep much secret from you can I?” Stuart asked with a smile.

“Confession time you old outlaw.” She smiled.

“Well, I almost let my anger at the carpetbaggers get the best of me and I started out on a dangerous course of action that would have caused great trouble for me perhaps, but for our neighbors and relatives for sure. I had constructed an “Infernal Machine” and intended to lay a trap for some white trash carpetbaggers blowing them to Hell, not that they weren’t already preordained for that anyway. I had paid Bart and Flavius to plant the seed and let that insidious County commishioner Rafe Butler reap the harvest. However, I could not follow through with my murderous plan, as it would inevitably give our oppressors the excuse they’ve been looking for to commit further murder, rape, and pillage. All the locals would pay a horrific price for that action. So, I cancelled the agreement with the men letting them keep the payment, just prior to our departure. In our prior life, I would have never dreamed of doing such a thing, but having lost The War of Northern Aggression, Constitutional rights, property, part of our fortune, and being run roughshod over by the dregs of the northern cities, was more than I could stand. I became foolish and vindictive, something I did not realize was in me.” Stuart finished.

Samantha sat for a moment watching her husband staring at the floor angry and frustrated. He was still the man she had married in spite of the war induced changes. She was proud of him that he had managed to put aside his righteous indignation and still make decisions based on the betterment of others. Rising smoothly, she crossed the floor and gently sat in his lap. Kissing his face several times she leaned forward placing her forehead against his then said “You are an amazingly good man, and I am proud to be your wife. You are the best man I’ve ever known or heard of, and I will follow you to the ends of the earth, even to certain death.” Samantha finished.

“Dearest, I cannot imagine life without you. I will do my best to restore our position in life for you and the children.”

“I know you will, but it’s not that important as long as we’re together, and healthy, we’ll make do.”

Meanwhile, Back in Texas

 

Damn, this is good! I've missed my regular installments of "The Stuarts of Texas". Still, it's a damn shame about that "Infernal Machine", all of that planning and work for nothing.

 

Al turned to look behind them and see if they were still being followed. They were.

“He’s still back there. Almost skylined himself on that last ridge.” Spat Al. “None too good at his trade I reckon. Don’t seem too good for a Yankee cav scout, I’d have expected better!”

“I’d think that was a good thing.” returned Glass. “We’ll let him tag along until this evening. If he don’t turn back because of the Comanche, then I’ll take care of him after we settle in for the night.” Glass finished with a cold smile.

That look always made Al feel funny inside. Cold chills and a slight nausea. “You seem to be looking forward to it. That is plumb unnatural. Most folks aren’t eager to kill and drag their feet at it. You comfortably slide right into it. Plumb unnatural.” He stated shaking his head.

Glass smiled and replied good naturedly. “Most folks wouldn’t have survived where I grew up either. Couldn’t mess around at all. I barely survived my first Comanche raid at the ripe old age of twelve. Two brothers didn’t.” He completed somberly. “I learned back then that sometimes it’s dog eat dog. Between them and the banditos, life has been rough.”

“I can see that. If you weren’t so kind and generous, I’d be too scared to ride with you. No offense intended, you been right good to me when you could have just bypassed me and not been slowed down. I do appreciate that, and the fact that you shared the stage coach money with me even up.”

“You know, I had never stole nothing from nobody until the war. Then to get by, I had to steal horses and supplies here and there from the Yankees. That didn’t bother me none, and truthfully, I kinda enjoyed it. Knowing what that devil possessed Sherman did, I’ve got no conscience at all now. Any bad I can do to ‘em is better than they deserve. Besides, four years fighting with no pay to speak of, makes that stage coach money rightfully mine by my way of thinking.” Said Glass

“I don’t reckon the blue bellies would agree with you. If they ever figure out who we are, then the jig is up! We’ll be dancing the Striangulation Jig iffin we ain’t shot outright!” Said Al flatly.

“I reckon you’re right Al. One more stage coach or train then we’ll be finished, and can settle down on the family ranch a raise cows. An, shoot the occasional Yankee, burning a railroad bridge or two here and there.” Glass smiled.

“Crazy youngun is gonna get us both killed.” Thought Al with a shake of his head. “He probably told someone where he was going and gave a description of us.”

“Then I have to make it look like the Comanche got him.” Offered Glass easily. “Or maybe help them find him.”

Al’s stomach turned over a bit and he looked at Glass for a moment. “You’d really do that to him?”

Glass thought for a moment then replied. “No, I couldn’t do that. I’ll just have to kill him or leave him afoot. Either way works for me.”
Glass thought for a moment then his face lit up.”Oldtimer, I just came up with a good solution to our current problem.”

 

That poor bastard was born a Yankee, and things just keep getting worse for him. I almost feel sorry for him...almost.  "Three-hundred thousand Yankees lie stiff in Southern dust; we got three hundred thousand before they conquered us. They died of Southern fevers, and Southern steel and shot. I wish they were three million instead of what we got...". I wonder how Glass plans to do it? 

 

About an hour before dusk Dave and Al pulled up to a small copse of trees that offered them a good view of the surrounding area without exposing their presence. Dave dug out a small hole at the bottom of the tallest tree then brought up some very dry wood, filled the hole using the smallest pieces first then progressing to the finger diameter pieces. He ringed the hole with enough stones to help get a good burn from chimney effect and to hide the flames, lit the fire, then placed the small coffee pot on to begin heating the water. Placing the small frypan on the other side of the fire, he sliced some of the salt pork to go with the biscuits they had brought along. Dave tossed the salt pork into the pan and retrieved the sack of biscuits. These sourdough biscuits were the best he’d had in years, so he had bought a sack of twenty five for a quarter. An exorbitant price for sure, but Dave figured he was getting the best of the deal. These biscuits tasted like Manna from Heaven after four years of weevil laden hard tack. Four hard boiled eggs had finished out his purchase, and these would be breakfast for tomorrow.

Al had been left a short distance away down the trail to watch for their shadow. As Dave sauntered up Al looked around and shook his head no to the unasked question.

“I was hoping that he might make it easier for me and blunder into us beside the sendero here. I guess the sneaky SOB ain’t as stupid as I had thought.” Stated Glass.

“Maybe he is and maybe he ain’t. What are you going to do?”

“I figured while you minded the fire and the cooking I’d ease on down our back trail and see if I can find him.”

“Then what, you aim to cut his throat or something?” Asked Al with a disappointed look on his face.

“Nope, I was thinking of bringing him along with us.”

“That was a serious question David!” Snapped Al.

“And you got an honest answer. I aim to do exactly that if I can catch him off guard. I figure if he is that interested in us, then we might as well let him tag along for a while. The exercise will do him some good. Don’t let the bacon burn while I’m gone.” He finished as he began his stalk.

A short time later, Dave caught a slight whiff of cigarette smoke and froze in place for a moment. Seeing and hearing nothing, he moved and took up position behind a Spanish Oak and waited. After a few moments he heard a man cough then a horse stamp its foot. He ain’t gonna last too long out here being this careless, the Comanche will see to that. He thought. Moving up slowly, Glass finally heard the man moving around while he set up camp. Loud, clumsy, and careless he was paying no attention to his surroundings area. He might be in the Union army, but was a rank amateur for sure. Glass removed the lead shot loaded sap from his boot, moved up and surveyed the area for his attack position. Nothing close, but there was a large oak tree between the horse and his camp fire.

Glass moved up behind the tree and picked up a few small rocks, checked the Yankee’s position again finding his back turned to his horse. Glass threw a small rock at the horse causing the animal to snort and dance around pulling at the tie down rope. The northerner did nothing so Dave repeated the action, and the horse almost broke free. This startled the man causing him to charge up toward the horse. As he passed the tree Dave cracked him behind the ear with the sap and he crashed to the ground. Moving quickly Dave tied the man’s hands behind his back with a piggin string then blindfolded him. Dave had just finished breaking the man’s camp when he came to with a moan.

Glass hauled him to his feet and pushed him toward his saddled horse.

 

He didn't kill him? Oh well, might make for an interesting story twist and Dave can always kill him later.
I don't think cigarettes were a thing during the Civil War, however cigars, pipes and chewing tobacco were popular.

 

Thinking back I believe you are correct about the tobacco, thanks!

 

I knew that because many fellow Civil War re-enactors that smoke cigarettes switch to cigars, pipes or chewing tobacco when trying to remain in character during an event.

 

Getting the Yankee scout to his horse, Glass removed his newly purchased lariat from the saddle, and put the noose over the man’s head who instantly started swearing in an extremely obnoxious manner and tried to kick Glass where he thought Glass might be, but missed.

“That’s enough of that foolishness, one more ra-zoo like that and I might drag you all the way to camp. You were going to ride, but you’ve earned yourself a walk.” Said Glass

The Yankee tried to spit on Glass and began yelling again. “I know your murdering kind! You cowardly traitors are good for nothing and we ought to hang every last one of you, or maybe burn you alive! We’ll keep your wimmen for whores though, at least they can earn a honest living for a change and know what a real man is!” Said the Yankee with an evil sneering grin on his face. “I’ve already started some of the young ones on the right trail. It’s surprising what you can get for a piece of hardtack or the threat of killing some of their white trash family!!!” Spat the man.

An enraged Glass delivered a savage punch to his stomach, doubling him over and was only held up by the rope in Glass’ hand. Glass then slapped the Yankee back and forth several times causing him to lose consciousness and go limp. Glass let him fall to the ground and stood over him in a killing rage, being so angry that he became light headed. Once Glass cooled down enough to recover, but still seething with anger he decided what must be done with this vile wretch. Jerking the disgusting bit of inhumane debris to his feet, he hissed, “You’ve sealed your fate you snake. I was going to let you go with a good beating, and a long walk back to Waco, but that ain’t happening now. Your end is going to be quite different.”

Dave heard a step off to one side and turned to see Al walking slowly toward him with an anger clouded face. “I followed you to see what you might do, and heard everything this scum had to say. Killing is too good for something like him.” Concluded Al.

“Followed me to see if I was going to murder this disgusting pig?”

“No, I knew you didn’t come here for that, but I wasn’t sure if he might goad you into doing something you’d regret. I guess regret is outa the question now that I’ve heard what he had to say. A clean death is far too good for something like this one, He has to pay, only question is how.”

Having recovered slightly from his just desserts, their prisoner brayed at the top of his lungs “Heeeeelp! He” Dave delivered a kick to his side that landed with a loud whump and the loud mouth rolled over on his side in spasms, and gasping for air. Al looked on impassively .

“This fool is going to bring the entire Comanche nation down on us with all this yelling.” Stated Glass.

“I didn’t know there were any Indians around here at all” replied Al

“We’re about 20 miles west of Waco and in Comanche territory. The union army has already repeatedly violated the truce Texas had with the Comanche, and so they either are on or will be on the warpath soon enough. All three of us would make for some prime entertainment for them gents. That is why we have been keeping off most of the trails and going cross country. They’ll find us if they look, but if nothing is obvious, then we should be alright. Let’s gag this idiot, remove his boots,and get him back to camp.”