Short Stories
“Mending Broken Bow”
A “Ross Peters - Texas Ranger” short story
by C. D. Myers
A note from the author
“My desire has been to write historical fiction, and such is this story. This story is the fictitious account of an actual feud that went on in Custer County, Nebraska in the fall of 1878.
“I. P. Olive lived in Plum Creek, Dawson County but had his office in Custer County. He, and his brother, Robert, who had assumed the name Stevens, were the primary instigators in an attempt to remove homesteaders from the area because of missing cattle. Ami Ketchum, a local homesteader, was too courageous and too good with a gun to be moved, and so a strong argument ensued.
“Later on, Stevens would be killed by Ketchum when the Olive’s attempted to arrest him. Ketchum would then be hanged by I. P. Olive - but that’s another story. I hope you enjoy this one!”
I lay in the musty, smelly, hay of the livery stable waiting for the men outside to discover my location. I knew I was in trouble. My body contained the holes of at least two bullets in my back and side. I was losing a lot of blood, of that I was quite sure. I felt as though I could pass out at any time. The men that had shot me were gunmen; mean, and - as one - they hated me, so unless something drastic happened in a hurry, I was dead!
I wondered where Garren was. Could he help me? Was he pinned down, or out of action? Garren Rader and I had uncovered the cruel actions of this local gang over the past couple of days, and now they were dead set to destroy us.
I thought back to the events that had led up to our being in this out of the way little community, and it was an amazing story. I would never have guessed that I would be lying in an unused horse stall, in a town I wouldn’t even have known the name of a few days before, waiting for a large group of men to kill me.
* * *
For weeks Broken Bow had been under siege by a gang of ruthless, wicked men. Shootings, knifings, and fist fights had become a nightly activity. In the last two weeks five people had been killed. Even worse was the fact that whenever someone would try to help one of the victims they would take their own life in their hands. One of the five victims had been doing nothing more than trying to help a badly knifed man. One of the gang had shot him in the belly and left him to die a slow, agonizing death.
Even the local doctor was not allowed to help. While the shooter sat in a chair, under the overhang of the saloon, the doctor yelled from his office window.
“You’ve got to let me help those men.”
“I don’t have to do nothing.”
“I must go out and check on those men.”
“You do and you’ll get a slug ‘tween the eyes.”
“You can’t be serious.” The doctor was having a hard time understanding how anyone could be so callous.
“Just step out the door, and ya’ll see.” The man lifted his gun, aimed at the clinic window, and fired a shot as the doctor ducked back behind the wall.
The doctor decided that the man was more than capable of doing exactly what he was claiming. The next hour was the hardest of his life as he was forced to watch two men die before his very eyes. What he didn’t know was that the man’s young son was watching the whole thing from a nearby alley.
The ranches in the area were struggling as well. Hundreds of cattle were missing, and more disappeared every night. Everyone knew who was behind the thefts, because the gang made it quite apparent that they were untouchable.
The town sheriff was at a loss as to what to do. On several occasions the men he had rounded up for a posse were out-manned, outgunned, and out-smarted. They had lost men on each occasion. The last time he had asked for men, no one had been willing to go. It was not that they were scared as much as they were not equipped for this. Broken Bow was firmly in the grip of a gang of men with no morality, compassion, or fair play!
* * *
Jackie, the nine year old son of the man killed trying to save the knife victim, stood alone in the street. Even as he grieved the death of his father he wondered what would become of him. The preceding year had been bone dry and hard. Most of the farmers and ranchers in the area were struggling to survive. To take in another young child was difficult for anyone to comprehend. There was one family that had offered to take him in, but he was scared of the man known to backhand his children at the slightest provocation, and work his kids like miniature farm hands.
The funeral over, Jackie stood alone in a small group of people who had come to pay their respects. He stared at the well dressed men who stood off to one side. They were not from town, and seemed to be in complete control of themselves. They wore cowboy hats rather than the cheaper bowler hats, leather dusters over black vests and bow ties. These vests and ties contrasted vibrantly with the white silk shirts they wore with style.
One man was tall with broad shoulders and a thin waist. His face said “laid back and easy-going”, but his eyes showed something else. The dark blue eyes never ceased their vigilance; it was almost as though this man expected the most unlikely thing imaginable to suddenly take place. He seemed to be at ease with those around, but carried an unmistakable air of authority - almost to the point of being removed from his surroundings.
The other man was much shorter but exuded a sense of natural, and massive, strength. The Irishman wore his hat at a rakish angle, and had smile lines around the corners of his mouth.
Jackie wished he could sit down and tell these two men his problems, sensing a innate compassion in the eyes of both. There was no way these were members of the gang; he would not, could not, believe that! But why were they here?
* * *
I was the taller man that Jackie saw at the funeral in Broken Bow. My name is Ross Peters. I’m a Texas Ranger, stationed in St. Louis; and I one of those approached about helping out with a situation in Nebraska.
I lay in that horse stall, waiting for those men to come for me and continued to think back to that day in my office when this had all begun. I am captain of the Ranger Forensics Team in St Louis, Missouri. On the desk in front of me had been one of the stranger requests I had ever considered. Where was Broken Bow?
Captain Jim Smith, in town from Dallas, had entered my office just minutes later with the words, “You up to a unique job?”
“I don’t know.” I said. “I was just considering that.”
“We need a team of two men to go with Judge Jerry Hunt to a small town in Nebraska. He has received word that a gang of rustlers is buffaloing a town there. He wants to go shut down the gang and bring the leader back here for trial.”
“Where is this town?” I asked.
“Right smack dab in the middle of nowhere.”
“But I have a telegram right here asking for help in Nebraska as well. Could they be from the same place?”
“I really don’t know where this town is.” Jim said. “It’s a town named Broken Bow, somewhere south of the desert there.”
I was staring at my telegram in disbelief!
“Judge Hunt received a telegram from his friend, who is sheriff there, asking for some help...” the captain was continuing.
“You’re not going to believe this...”
“It appears things have gotten out of hand!”
“You’re not going to believe this, Boss!” I said.
“What?”
“Boss, I’m holding a telegram from that very town. Bess Wortman, Ann’s best friend, says she felt compelled to contact me about that very issue.” I said this quietly as I marveled at the miraculous Providence of God. “I guess we don’t have much of a choice, do we?”
“I guess not!” Jim said with a broad smile.
Captain Smith and I had a unique relationship. He struggled to think of me as an employee, and I thought of him almost as a father. When Ann and I had been married, Captain Smith had stood up with me. Jim had embarrassed me on occasion by making comments along the lines of, “Ross is one of the bright gems among many jewels in the Texas Rangers system.”
I was forced from my revelry as Captain Smith continued. “...leave in the morning? I asked Garren if he’d be willing to go with you. He agreed.”
“Great!”
“I figured you’d want to have him with you on this one.”
“Thanks, Boss! With Garren we can’t help but be successful.” I said. “And, of course, we will be praying that God will be bringing things to a successful conclusion.”
“I think that’s a good idea. Let’s end our time with prayer. We’ll need God’s help on this one.” Captain Smith said these words as we bowed our heads.
A week later found us preparing to leave Omaha. We had run into a man that could tell us how to get to Broken Bow, and he informed us that it would take about three days to make the one hundred and fifty mile trek.
We then went to the local office of the Council Bluffs and Nebraska Ferry Company for horses. The company had started Omaha by selling plots for $25 per lot. Now, they were interested in land to the west; so they agreed to loan the three of us horses - if we would allow a company agent to go along.
So it was that four men had ridden into Broken Bow together the day before the funeral for Jackie’s father. Jackie had lost his mother and three sisters a couple of years before when Indians had attacked their ranch a few miles west of Broken Bow. Now, with the loss of his father, he was truly alone in the world.
Bess did not live in Broken Bow. She had come to Broken Bow to see relatives and when she had seen what was taking place in town she was prompted to send the telegram to me.
When we arrived in town we met Bess because she had come back to visit relatives again. One of those same relatives had informed her of the plight of the small boy sitting by himself at the funeral dinner. She had quickly moved over next to him to see how he was doing. While she was sitting there trying to get Jackie to talk about his pain, I walked up behind her.
“Excuse us for interrupting,” I began with a smile, “but we heard you tell the boy that your name was Bess. You would not happen to be the magnificent friend of a certain lovely young lady from St. Louis would you?”
Bess turned around to find her best friend’s husband standing there. She sprang to her feet as she said, “I know a lovely young lady in St. Louis who is married to a flattering young Texas Ranger, but I don’t know that ‘magnificent’ would describe me.”
I introduced the men with me, except for Garren, who she knew from the wedding.
“Thanks for coming so quickly Ross.” she invited us to sit down, and as we began to talk, Jackie listened closely.
After several minutes, Jackie burst out, “Can you men help me? My father was killed by some bad men, and I think I’ll need some help getting them! I want to kill the man who killed my dad!”
I instantly realized that I needed to spend some time with this young boy. The issue of revenge and bitterness could tear a boy apart, and Jackie was headed down that path. While I could understand the pain and hurt he was feeling, I knew that if the lad could not move past the point of wanting revenge he would be in danger of destroying himself. Jackie would need to come to understand that hurting someone else when you are in pain does nothing to remove your own pain.
“How would you like to help us out while we’re here?” I asked Jackie with a quick glance at Garren. I knew Garren would pick up on what I was doing. “We always try to have a local resident help us with things in the area we are working.”
“We’ll need someone to tell us about the community, identify people who aren’t part of the town, and possibly do some spyin’ for us.” Garren picked up on my idea very quickly. “We always try to protect our informants, but it might be dangerous!”
Jackie’s eyes lit up as he understood what we were asking him to do. “Are you going after my dad’s murderers?”
“We think the rustling and your father’s murder are tied together.” I said.
Jackie immediately wanted to know what he could do, and Garren left with him to get started. They would move around town with Jackie pointing out anything of interest. Garren could draw anyone into conversation and a lonely boy would probably give Garren more information than he could comprehend.
I remained behind to talk with Bess. Two hours later she had given me as much information as she could, along with a little of the background of the town. We had concluded our conversation by talking a little about Ann and how she was adjusting to life in the ‘big city’.
“I think Ann’s adjusting quite well...”
“I’m glad to hear that!”
“But I think she’d be a lot better if you would come and see her sometime. Consider yourself to have an open invitation any time you can get there.” I said as I rose from the table.
* * *
The next morning Garren and I began our work in Broken Bow. After visiting with several people in town, we decided that the rustling must take precedence. By focusing on the rustling we would have a much more concrete case. We would begin by making the rounds of the ranches that had lost cattle.
The first outfit we visited was a small one on Mud Creek. People in town had informed us that this lonely man, along with his son and daughter, had been hit the hardest. When we sat down at their table for coffee, we were met by faces that told us that these three were just about done. The grizzled man with white in his untrimmed beard and a slight limp, informed us that he would be more than willing to take the fight to the gang if not for the fact that he felt compelled to try to keep his son and daughter safe.
“I spent twenty years in a running battle with a group down in Texas. I just don’t want to put my family through that again. These young’uns lost their mother in that battle, and I still carry some of the lead from that fight.”
“That’s a wise decision.” I said.
The boy was a young man of fourteen; walked with a decided limp himself, and quickly informed us, “I’ll get those murdering skunks.” He was a frail boy, but had a look of determination in his eyes.
“I think it would be best if you left that job to us.” I said. “While you obviously have the determination, we have the authority to do what needs to be done.”
“I guess we’re glad you’re here, then.” The pretty daughter with freckles across her nose mentioned quietly. She was the most discouraged of all. “My brother thinks he can conquer anything, but his leg should remind him of the last time he tried that.”
We dismissed ourselves shortly after that, as the two siblings began a heated exchange. Tom, the father, had told us that they would support anything the Rangers could do.
After visiting a couple of other small spreads on the west side of town, we rode back into town for dinner before heading east. Judge Hunt informed us that he would be doing what he could in town just as soon as we gave him something to work with. We knew that he was doing more than he implied; but until we gave him some useful information, his hands were pretty well tied. The judge was using Jackie to gather information on the murders that had taken place. Jackie was friends with the son of the knifing victim, so Jerry had plenty to do.
The largest outfit in the area was the ranch of I. P. Olive. He had several thousand head of cattle in various locations around Broken Bow, but had been struggling due to the hot, dry weather. When we got to the main ranch house that afternoon we were immediately impressed with the cold efficiency of the place; but we also got the impression that this was a mean outfit. The man who met us at the front gate informed us that he was the foreman of the ranch, and we were not welcome there. He was a hulking man with beady eyes and a long, drooping mustache. In his hands he held a .50 caliber rifle. His rifle never flinched as we came closer. When we informed him that we were members of the Texas Rangers, he exploded with a number of expletives and then yelled, “Get off this ranch now or I’ll cut ya down where ya sit! Ya have no authority here!!!”
“You don’t need to get huffy.” Garren said. “We were just wanting to know if you’d lost any cattle recently.”
“No one would be dumb enough to try to take cattle from our spread.” The man snarled back at us. “If there’s going to be any cattle taken, we’ll be the ones taking, not the ones taken from. Get off this land!”
As we rode back toward town Garren was convinced that we didn’t need to look any further. “Ross, this is the group responsible for the rustling.” I was tempted to agree offhand, but knew that we would need more evidence.
There were two other major ranches in the area, and several smaller ones, and we were told at each one that the rustling had become so bad that they would be unable to weather this attack. If Garren and I were unable to get this under control a lot of people were going to have a very tough fall and winter.
We got back to town and I immediately met with Judge Hunt and told him what we had found. Jerry informed me that everyone he talked to would clam up when he asked about the murders. He was convinced that people had been frightened into keeping their mouths shut.
Garren found Jackie and asked him if he had met the man we had run into at the Olive spread. When Garren described him Jackie quickly replied, “That’s the man who shot my dad when he tried to help Steve.” The judge immediately began questioning the boy about the attack, the shot itself, and the young man’s ability to take the stand during the trial.
“I’d do anything to get this guy in jail.” Jackie replied. “If I need to tell everybody what happened, I’ll do it.”
“Well, it sounds like we need to begin gathering information out at the Olive Ranch.” I commented. “I think we had better plan on spending the night out there.”
“We’ve got the right guys, Boss.” Garren said. “It’s time to earn the big money.”
We waited until dark and rode out looking for a spot overlooking the Olive Ranch, and hoped that we could also find a place that was higher up the hillside. We had spotted a potential area that afternoon and were more than satisfied with the position as we looked it over more closely.
I immediately settled into place and began the painstaking job of gathering information about the ranch while Garren napped so that he would be ready later. We would stay in this spot for as long as was needed. It didn’t take long to realize that the choice we had made was a good one.
Before midnight twelve men rode away from the ranch. Two hours later the same men rode back in the front gate with fifty to sixty steers. They were driven into a pen on the south side of the main house and a half hour later six men came back out and left with the cattle. This time Garren and I went with them!
The drive continued until shortly before daylight. We rode off to the side of the herd, so it was not surprising when we topped out on a rise and heard the sound of many more cattle than those we had followed. We barely had time to hide as the sun came up in a shower of dazzling color (I had always loved the sunrises in Nebraska). The rays of sunlight slid down the western wall of the canyon and we saw hundreds, maybe thousands, of cattle. The canyon had been closed off on both ends and the six men drove the cattle in, closed the gate, and rode away.
“I can’t believe how confident these men are.” I said to Garren.
“They don’t even post a guard!” Garren replied.
“Doesn’t it surprise you that they’re leaving this group together?” I asked.
“I was thinking the same thing.”
Garren stood guard while I rode down among the cattle, sure of what I would find! There were cattle with at least ten different brands within 200 feet.
We had what we needed to arrest the gang! I signaled Garren on the way out and we headed for Broken Bow as quickly as we could get there. We found Judge Hunt in his hotel room.
“We’ve found the stolen herd.” I said. “Olive is rustling cattle and moving them six miles east to a little valley in the middle of nowhere.”
“Show me the valley.” Jerry said. “I’ve been a bit busy too, and I found these maps at the courthouse. Let’s begin by nailing down the location of this valley itself.”
We decided that the cattle were being kept in Goose Valley. From there we worked our way back to the ranch and got a pretty good idea of the route they took to and from the ranch. We headed for the hotel for a short nap before heading back to the valley that afternoon. We assumed the gang would either doctor the brands or move the cattle. We also assumed that, since the cattle had not yet been moved, the gang had some reason for keeping the herd together. We were hoping to take a couple of hides so we could prove that the brands had been doctored. That would give us a couple of good pieces of evidence on which to begin our case against the gang.
We arrived at the valley to find three men working with the herd. They were not changing the brands - there was no fire going; rather, they appeared to be dividing the various brands into smaller herds. As we whispered back and forth, trying to decide what they might be doing, it came to us - they were not going to sell the herd. It appeared they were keeping the herd together in order to use the cattle later.
For the next fifteen minutes we discussed how we could get close to the three without giving ourselves away - and having to shoot it out with the men. We finally decided on a bold plan: Garren would approach the men from the front while I came upon them from the rear. Garren had not been seen by these three, as far as we knew; and if they did identify him he would attempt to keep them distracted with his innate ‘blarney’.
The plan worked like a charm and we were able to arrest all three men without firing a shot. Unfortunately, the three men clammed up and would not say a thing about what was being planned. Of course we could easily hold these three on rustling charges, but we wanted the head of the snake.
It was time to head back to the ranch! We needed more evidence against the ring leaders. First we took the three back to town. Sheriff Harder was a hard-nosed man with limited gun ability, but a strong sense of justice combined with an inborn lack of anything resembling a willingness to “backup”. He quickly took control of the prisoners with a solid speech about behaving themselves and staying quiet.
We stopped by the hotel to find Judge Hunt and were surprised to find that he was not there, and no one seemed to have any idea where he was at. He had left the hotel that morning, and had not been seen since. Even Jackie was only able to tell us that the judge had told him to wait at the hotel.
“He told me, “I won’t be gone long, but I think we’re getting this thing under control.” Jackie said.
Garren and I decided we would need to split up and find Judge Hunt as quickly as possible. While Broken Bow was not exactly a thriving metropolis, it would take some time to search it all. We had have Hunt talk to these three and see if we could break this case.
Half an hour later I wandered into the livery in an attempt to find Judge Hunt, only to receive a hail of gunfire. I entered the building just as several shots came from behind. In a second I felt two shots, and heard a third one whistle by my ear. One shot hit me in the shoulder spinning me part way around. It probably saved my life, because the second burned my back instead of going directly into my chest. The burn I felt in my back nearly obliterated the pain in my shoulder, but the wetness covering my entire left side reminded me of my severe problem. I was laying on my back in one of the stalls, and could hear at least three different men calling back and forth as they began to work their way toward the building. It would only be a matter of minutes until they stumbled across my hiding place!
* * *
All this rushed through my mind as I lay in my own blood and smelled the horses, leather, and hay around me. I was in real trouble! Nobody in town knew where I was - as far as I was aware. Three vicious killers were closing in on me, I was wounded (it appeared quite badly), and I was totally alone.
Suddenly I remembered something important, I was not alone, and there was Someone Who knew exactly what the situation was! I closed my eyes and reminded my Heavenly Father of just what the situation was: “Heavenly Father, it’s me again! I’m in trouble, no one knows where I am, and I’m wounded. You have the ability to do something amazing, and that’s what I need. Please do as You see fit, but my desire would be that You perform a miracle on my behalf. Amen!”
I didn’t know what to expect as I opened my eyes, but I didn’t expect anything like what I saw. There, in full view, was a man holding a gun; but he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking through the window on the other side of the barn. He seemed to have forgotten me completely!
Seconds later I saw the miracle God had done! Converging on the barn were various members of the town. The men in the livery were not worried about me because they were being surrounded by people with weapons of every sort. There were pitchforks, clubs, sledgehammers, and simple sticks, along with guns of every make and size. There were even a few women in the crowd, seen through the small knothole near my face.
When I glanced around at the interior of the livery again the man was gone. The men, that just moments ago had attempted to kill me, were now trying to get away.
“There’s people everywhere!” one man called out from the back. “Where did all these people come from?”
“There’s no way we’re getting out of here!” another voice yelled. “I guess we’ll see how many we can take out with us.”
“Take it easy you two.” a third voice chimed in. This voice was much more relaxed and at ease. “They don’t know what has happened in here.”
“That crowd out there isn’t here to chat!” the first man responded in a shrill voice. “That’s crazy talk. We’re going to have to shoot our way out.”
“Don’t be stupid!” the same calmer voice replied.
“I’m going to make a cemetery of the street outside!” the second voice cried out.
Even as the voice died away a shot rang out. There was a scream from outside. Suddenly there was another, louder, shout. “If there’s another shot like that, we open fire. You’re surrounded, and if there’s another shot you die. Think about it! Is that what you want?”
“Billy’s an idiot!” the calm voice shouted. “We’re coming out. We haven’t done anything, but if someone was shot you need to know that it was Billy done it.”
Three minutes later the building was empty. The three men were in custody, and the crowd was milling around as if waiting. Sheriff Harder was already thanking the crowd for their help, and asking them to go home. I saw all this through a haze, and then everything went dark.
* * *
Two days later I awoke to the rest of the story. We had not been able to find Judge Hunt because he was speaking to a large group of citizens. He was informing them that he had enough information to take care of this problem, if they would help. He was sure that enough had happened so that they could give testimony against the gang. He had also informed them that the Rangers could protect them while they were here; so this was their best chance of getting rid of the gang.
It was then that the shots rang out, and a young boy came running in to say that he had seen three men follow the Ranger into the livery. He went on to say that the shots had come from the building. Under the supervision of Sheriff Harder they had surrounded the barn. The rest Ross pretty well knew.
The trial that followed took place right there in Broken Bow. Many of the people from town turned out to testify against members of the gang. While Olive was not convicted of any crime, a large number of those that worked for him were. By the end of the trial only three men, besides Olive and his brother Bob were left. Bob had been the relaxed one in the livery stable. He had known that all of the killing had been done by others, and the big, surly foreman had not been nearly as formidable as Jackie took the stand.
“That man,” Jackie said, pointing right at the foreman, “shot my dad in the chest as he was trying to help Steve.”
There was one other thing that happened during the trial. The first, and most vocal, witness had been a man named Ami Ketchum, a homesteader who had come into conflict with the Olives on several earlier occasions; Olive had whispered that he would get even with Ketchum, as he left the courtroom. We would later find that the whispered threat would be carried out, and I would be headed back to Broken Bow - but, that’s another story! For now, we were able to leave knowing that Broken Bow had been mended!
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