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Bitter is the Dust
Chapter Four/Tobias Trouble
Scott A. Gese
Chapter 4
Tobias Trouble
It was a Saturday night. Jason, Smiley, Wes and an older trail rider who went by the name of "Tex" sat at the corner table in the Hoof and Horn. They had been playing poker for a couple of hours, and Jason, who had turned out to be quite adept at playing the game was ahead. The final hand of the night had seen the pot grow quite large. Wes and Smiley had folded, but Tex and Jason continued raising each other until Tex finally called and with a smile on his face and thoughts of sweet success, laid down three jacks with a flourish.
Jason looked at the hand and slowly laid down his own. "I'm afraid I have you beat there Tex. I have three tens…and two little ladies to boot."
"Why that can't be," cried Tex. "You're just a kid. I'll bet you don't even shave yet!"
"I may not shave, but I know how to play poker. The pot's mine! Do you have a problem with that?"
Tex was upset, but he was no fool. With Smiley and Wes sitting at the table, he grabbed up what little money he had left and called it a night. He would wait for another time and place to get his money back. "We'll meet again," he told Jason as he left the table.
"Bring more money," Jason replied as he collected his winnings and bought a round of drinks for his friends.
Not anticipating his good fortune at the table, Jason had paid for a night in the livery loft with the rest of the XO boys. It wasn't uncommon for the stableman to rent out sleeping space in the loft to whoever wanted an inexpensive place to lay their head for the night. It just so happened that Tex was sleeping in the loft that night as well.
About an hour after the card game had ended, the boys decided to call it a night and wondered down to the livery. Tex was already in the loft when the boys came in. They lit a lamp, but kept the flame low as not to disturb several others who were already asleep. Tex kept his head down so he wouldn't be noticed. He took note of where Jason hung his hat for the night before the light was put out. After what Tex figured was enough time for the men to be asleep, and hoping he had the added benefit of some heavy drinking on his side, he ever so slowly made his way over to where Jason was sleeping. Little did Tex know that over the years, Jason had developed a habit of being a light sleeper on account of he never knew when his "father' was going to come home drunk and pull him out of bed to beat him. Old habits die hard, and tonight was no different. Jason had sensed someone moving in the loft and laid still. When he realized that someone was at his side, he figured they were after the money he had won earlier that evening. As soon as Jason felt a hand sliding into his pocket, he grabbed the stranger and began to tussle with him. The commotion woke up the rest of the men in the loft. Some began to yell for a light, not realizing what was going on. That didn't stop Jason and Tex from struggling with each other. Jason was quickly on his feet and just as a match was struck to light a lamp, Jason saw who it was and gave him a mighty shove that sent him backwards over the edge of the loft and to the floor below. All of the men scrambled to the edge and peered over just as the stableman stepped out from his quarters with a lighted lamp. There at his feet lay Tex, sprawled out on the floor. Blood was running from both his mouth and a deep gash on the back of his head. The stableman examined the body, then – looking up at the heads peering over the edge of the loft – he made the pronouncement, "he's dead."
"He was trying to steal my money," shouted Jason as he looked around the room for the men to give some sign of agreement.
"I don't know what the scuffle was about, but I saw you push him over the edge," answered one.
Even the boys from the XO had to agree they had only seen Jason push the man over the edge. The sheriff was summoned and an investigation was held. After hearing the story of Tex losing big to Jason at the poker table, it was determined that Tex was indeed after the money he had lost and Jason had acted in self defense. The following morning, after a sleepless night, Jason announced to the XO boys that he was planning to purchase a gun.
"It's about time," replied Wes. "Any self respecting wrangler needs to have himself a gun, even if all he does with it was shoot an occasional jack rabbit. I think we should head over to the mercantile right now and take a look at what they have."
Zane wasn't too keen on the idea of Jason owning a gun, but he kept his mouth shut and followed along as the boys made their way up the street to the Fort Scott Mercantile. If Jason was going to get himself a gun, he wanted to make sure he got a good one.
The boys entered the mercantile just as Andy Tobias – his friends called him Toby – had finished hanging a few new lanterns from hooks in the ceiling rafters. The men had congregated around the front counter where he normally had his guns on display.
"Well, well, if it isn't the whole danged XO outfit crowding around my display case. I guess you're not here for some fabric now, are you?"
"No sir, Toby, we're here to see what you've got for sale in the gun department," replied Wes.
Toby perked right up. There was more profit to be made in selling firearms than dry goods. If a man bought a pistol, it only followed that he would buy a holster, belt and ammunition. "Gun department, well, things are a bit scarce right now. I don't have any new guns, but I do have a real beauty in a used gun. That would be the .44 Colt you're looking at right now. Young Jason here has been drooling over that piece for the past two weeks now. Why every time he leaves, I have to clean the spittle off the glass. If you boys are all going to drool over this thing today, I'm going to hand you a rag and make you clean the glass yourselves," he laughed good-naturedly.
"I'm not here to drool today, Toby. I got cash money," cited Jason.
Toby's right eyebrow arched in surprise. "Is that so? What did you do, rob a bank?"
"No sir, I won the money last night in a poker game."
"That ain't quite the way I heard it," Toby ventured. "I heard talk around town this morning that you killed a man last night with your bare hands. What do you need a gun for?"
"Hey, that's unfair, Toby," retorted Wes. "Jason here was being robbed and he just shoved the man off of him. Tex hit his head in the fall. It was an accident."
"I see," replied Toby. "Well, if you want that gun, it'll cost you twelve dollars."
"Twelve dollars? You told me nine dollars last week. Now that's robbery," cried Jason.
"That was last week, this is this week." Afraid he might be missing out on the sale, he sweetened the deal. "It comes with the holster and a box of cartridges."
"I still think it's too much," Jason complained.
"That's my price, take it or leave it." Toby said. It was clear he was done dickering.
Jason inhaled, and nodded his head. "I got the money and I'm tired of just looking at it, so I guess I'll take it."
Toby reached into the case and brought out the gun. He handed it to Jason and Jason reluctantly gave him the twelve dollars.
He took the belt and strapped it on, sliding the pistol into the holster. He adjusted it so it hung low enough to be within easy reach with his elbow slightly cocked and fingers hovering comfortably above the walnut grip. Although this was the first time he had ever worn a pistol, he found something comforting in the weight against his thigh.
Satisfied, he removed the pistol from the holster and began feeding cartridges into the chamber. The gun belt was next; and Jason took his time placing the bullets into the twenty-five loops. The cartridges that remained, he put into his front pants pocket.
As the boys all stepped outside, Jason quickly stepped back in. He looked over at Toby, yelled out, "You're a thief', and spit on the glass case before walking out the door.
Toby could be heard yelling something from inside the store as the boys headed down the street.
"What was that all about," inquired Smiley.
"Oh, nothing, nothing at all," Jason smirked.
By the time the boys made it back to the ranch, Zane was as jumpy as the horses, which was caused by Jason and Wes shooting off most of Jason's bullets as they took turns trying out the new gun.
Zane made a point of telling Miles all that had happened in town over the weekend. Miles called Jason up to the house after supper to have a talk with him.
"I hear you got into a tussle with someone over the weekend and he ended up dying at your hand," Miles began, purposely trying hard to not sound judgmental.
"It was an accident, Miles," Jason shrugged. "I shoved him off the loft and he hit his head when he hit the ground. He was trying to rob me."
"Accident or not, doesn't it bother you any that you killed a man?" Miles was watching Jason's face closely.
"He had it coming, as far as I'm concerned. No, it don't bother me."
"I hear you did well at the poker table too."
"Yes sir, good enough to buy me this here Colt." Jason pulled the gun from its holster and handed it to Miles for a closer inspection.
"It's a nice piece; I owned one of these myself at one time." He cleared his throat. "I want to be certain that you understand there's to be no shooting around the house," he finished as he handed the gun back to Jason. He felt a need to change the subject. "How's your ma doing? I hear she took a job with Ben and Doc Evans."
"Yes, but she's not there on the weekends."
"So did you go out to see her?"
"No, I didn't have time this weekend. I'll try to make it out next time. Is that all?"
"I suppose it is."
Jason headed back to the bunkhouse, drawing and reholstering his new pistol as he went. Miles watched him from the porch and wondered to himself how long it would be before Jason ended up behind bars, or worse.
The following morning, just after breakfast, Miles called Wes and Jason up to the house. "You two hitch up the wagon. Toby should have some supplies in for us and I need the two of you to pick them up. I expect you back here by noon."
The two boys hitched up the wagon and headed toward town. The ride was pretty boring until they came to a rocky spot. "Hey, look there," pointed Wes. "It's a jack, and a big one at that. Think you can hit it?"
"Well stop this crate and let me see." Jason stepped down and pulled out his gun. He took careful aim and pulled the trigger. The rabbit scampered off and disappeared before Jason had a chance for a second shot.
Wes had to laugh as he came down beside him. "You shoot that thing like an old lady. Hell, boy. All's you need to do is just clear leather and shoot. You don't need to think about it. Let your hand do the thinking. Let me show you."
The two boys spent half an hour drawing and shooting until Jason ran out of bullets. Once they got back into the wagon, they put the horses into a trot to try to make up some time. Once in town they pulled the wagon up in front of the mercantile, gave the horses some water and went inside.
"Mornin', Toby," greeted Wes. "Miles sent us to pick up some supplies for the XO. Say's you have some posts and wire for us."
Toby had his back to the door as he busied himself with a display of canned goods. When he turned to see Wes and Jason crossing the threshold; he pointed a boney finger at Jason and began to come toward him. "You young whelp, you git out of my store," he shouted. "You're not welcome in here. You're a little red headed demon and I don't want you in my store!" He began to push Jason toward the door, but Jason would have no part of it and began to push back.
"You little hellion, git out of my store now," cried Toby as he continued to shove Jason toward the opening. "I said "git out'!"
The lone townsman in the store ran out the door and headed toward the sheriff's office.
Wes stepped forward and tried to intercede. "Hey you two, knock it off." He turned to the tradesman. "What's gotten into you, Toby?"
"This ain't none of your concern, Wes. You stay out of this," insisted Toby as he and Jason continued to scrap. Finally, Jason had had enough of Toby pushing and insulting him. He let loose with a hard right hand to Toby's stomach and doubled him over, then gave him a couple more blows to the head that put the man on the floor. He pulled out his revolver and pointed it at Toby. Then, remembering the pistol was empty, he put it away.
Wes grabbed Jason and pulled him off before he did any more damage. "What the hell are you doing, Jason? What the hell is the matter with you? You pulled your gun on him. This is not good, no sir, this is not good at all."
Just then Sheriff Joe Mason came through the door. He was a big man, a good head taller than any other man in town and an ex-army officer to boot. When he gave an order, people took heed. He grabbed Jason by the front of his shirt and stood him up against a post. Putting his other hand to Jason's throat, he cautioned him. "You stay right here and don't move a muscle."
He let go of Jason to tend to Toby. Jason spoke up. "He started it, I…" The sheriff grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him up against the post a second time, harder than before; almost knocking the wind out of him. "I told you not to move a muscle; and that includes your mouth!"
The lawman went back to checking on Toby. When he was satisfied Toby was all right, he asked Wes to take him over to see the doctor. "I think he needs a couple of stitches over that left eye."
Wes and Toby headed out the door and Sheriff Mason turned his attention toward Jason. He took his gun from him and motioned toward the door. "Pick up your hat. Let's go."
Jason stood his ground. "Go, go where? I didn't do anything. He started it, I was just defending myself."
"Shut up! You're going to take a time out until I can get the facts on this little episode. Now move out."
Jason was still reluctant to move. "You're going to put me in jail for this?"
Fed up with the boy's stubbornness, Mason was having none of it. He lifted his right foot and gave the boy a nudge with the toe of his boot. "Well, I ain't going to buy you a drink, that's for sure." He paused at the doorway just long enough to hang up the "closed' sign and shut the door behind them.
******
Wes and Toby went into the doctor's office where Sarah met them.
"My goodness, what happened, Mr. Tobias? Let's get you right in here where Doctor Dunn can take a look at that cut."
Sarah began to get the utensils ready as Ben began to examine the cut on Tobias. "So, what happened here, Toby? Did you take a fall?"
"No, I didn't take no fall. That red headed devil hit me."
"Red headed devil?" Sarah asked, obviously confused. "I'm afraid I don't know who that is."
"Oh, yes you do," Toby declared bitterly. "That son of Satan XO boy, the little red-headed bastard! The sheriff hauled him off to jail."
Sarah slapped Toby across the face and ran out the door.
"What the hell was that for?" he questioned as he rubbed his cheek.
"That "son of Satan' is Jason McKinney, her son," Ben answered.
"Oh, I see."
Sarah ran over to the sheriff's office. Sheriff Mason had just finished locking up Jason as she came through the front door. "What are you doing putting him in jail like this? You let him out right this instant," she demanded.
"Ma'am?" Mason couldn't help but smile as he faced the attractive and petite woman.
"You heard me, let him out; this has got to be some kind of mistake."
The lawman shook his head. "There's no mistake, ma'am. I locked him up, and until I find out why he beat the tar out of Andy Tobias, locked up is where he'll stay. And just who are you to him?"
"I'm his mother," Sarah declared flatly.
Mason swiped his hand across his upper lip, hiding the smile. "Well I guess that explains your irrational behavior. I am sorry, ma'am, but he stays put until I sort this whole thing out."
"Go back to work, ma," Jason shouted through the bars of the holding cell. "It's all a big mistake."
"That sounds like good advice ma'am," Mason said softly. "There's nothing you can do here."
Sarah turned and left in a huff. By the time she arrived back at the office, Ben had finished stitching up Toby's cut and she met him at the door as he was leaving. He stopped and looked at her, expecting to receive an apology for being slapped, but when he realized none would be forthcoming, he continued on his way, mumbling under his breath.
Wes followed Toby back to the mercantile. "I still need to pick up those supplies for the XO."
"You'll get no supplies from me today, young man. You go back and tell your boss if he wants his supplies he'll have to come get them himself."
Wes played contrite, hoping for an end to the foolishness. "Oh come on, Toby. I didn't have anything to do with this."
"You was with him. That's enough for me. So it's like I said, if the XO wants its supplies Miles Hanley hisself will have to come and get them. Now git!"
Wes left the mercantile and started for home. He had plenty of time to think and no matter how he laid it out in his mind, there was no way Miles was going to be happy with what he had to tell him.
When Wes pulled up into the front yard it was half past three and Miles was waiting on the porch. Wes felt instantly sick in the pit of his stomach as soon as he saw his boss.
Miles stood up from the chair he was in, leaned up against the post at the top of the stairs. He took a puff off his pipe. Wes sat in the wagon waiting for the questions he knew were about to fly his direction.
"I thought I told you to be back here by noon?" Questioned Miles. "Where are my supplies and where's Jason?"
"Well, sir. I know you told us to be back by noon, but we ran into a bit of a situation."
Concerned, Miles looked up. "Situation? What sort of a situation? Is Jason alright?"
"Well, yes, Jason's alright, but he's in jail."
Miles started down the stairs. "Get down off that wagon, son. You've got some explaining to do, and it better be good."
Wes did as he was told, but stayed close to the wagon. "Well, it's like this. We went straight into town just fine, but when we went to talk with Toby about our supplies, he came unglued at Jason; for no good reason I could tell. Those two got to tusselin' and Jason up and hit him. That's when the sheriff got involved. He took Jason off to jail until he could get the matter figured out."
Miles took a deep breath. "And what about my supplies?"
"Well, Toby wouldn't let me have them. He say's you have to come in to town and pick them up personal like."
"What! Why do I get the feeling there's more to this story than what you're telling me?" He raised his hand, stopping Wes's answer, and shook his head. "I think I've had just about all I want from Jason. Now that Little Walt is up and about again, I think it's time I cut that boy loose. Go into the bunkhouse and gather up his belongings. Put them into the wagon along with his saddle. Then tie his horse to the back. Looks like I'm making a trip into town."
Wes hesitated a bit, upset with himself for having let down his employer. He finally spoke up. "You want me to come along with you?"
"No," Miles answered. "You've wasted this day. You might as well lay low for what's left of it. I'm docking you a day's pay."
"What!" Wes bit his lip, turned away from Miles and took a swooping kick at the dirt, kicking up dust as he headed across the yard. Miles could hear him cursing all the way to the bunkhouse.
As soon as Jason's belongings were loaded up, Miles headed into town. He only hoped he could get there before Toby closed up for the evening. Miles really hated to do this to Jason, but he had a business to run and it had nothing to do with babysitting. Jason was turning out to be more than he bargained for.
The rancher made good time and managed to reach town before Toby had shuttered the store. Entering the mercantile, he was surprised to see the storekeeper with a large gauze bandage wrapped around his head. He tried to put on a good face in spite of the situation.
"Good afternoon, Toby."
"Good? What the hell's good about it?" Toby vehemently replied.
Miles knew right away this was not going to be a pleasant conversation. "I understand one of my boys took a swing at you this morning."
"Took a swing at me? He damn near killed me. I've got sore ribs and a cut on my head that took seven stitches to stop the bleeding."
Miles acted surprised. "Really? I heard different. I guess I was misinformed."
"Yes sir, I guess you were. Did your informant tell you why he "bout killed me?"
"Wes said you went crazy, trying to push Jason out of the store as soon as they walked in."
"That's right. And do you know why that is?"
"No, I'm afraid I don't," Miles answered, not really caring.
"It's because I sold him a gun the other day and he didn't like the price I was askin'. On his way out, he spit all over my glass display case and left me to clean up the mess. He's a disrespectful, hot headed little runt and I won't ever allow him in my store, ever again, ever!"
"I can understand how you feel toward the boy, Toby. I hope you don't feel that way about all the boys at the XO? In fact, I'd like to give you my personal apology. You just let me know what the expenses are for any damages and for the Doctor. I'll make it right. If it makes you feel any better, I'm on my way over to the sheriff's office right now to let the boy know that he's no longer working for the XO."
Toby relented. In the back of his mind was the thought the Miles could afford to shop elsewhere if so inclined, and it tempered his response. "Well yes, that makes me feel a whole lot better. Maybe that little whelp will leave town and never come back. That would suit me just fine."
"I still need to get my supplies, so don't close up before I get back," Miles cautioned.
"Why, I'd be more than happy to load up those supplies myself. I'll have "em in your wagon before you get back," he promised.
******
Miles untied Jason's horse and grabbed up his belongings. He led the horse down the street to the sheriff's office, tied it to the hitch rail out front and stepped inside. The sheriff was busy at his desk and Jason was lying on the cot in one of the cells.
"Afternoon, sheriff," greeted Miles as he stepped in.
"Well, good afternoon, Miles. Come to pick up your boy?"
Miles dropped Jason's belongings onto the floor. "Not exactly."
"I see."
Jason heard Miles and got up off the cot. "Miles, are you here to get me out? It's all a big misunderstanding."
"Jason, I've had enough of your short temper. I put up with it for a while, hoping you'd grow out of it, but it just keeps coming. You're through working for the XO. I'll give the sheriff here your back pay. I'll even pay your bail. When you leave here, don't come out to the ranch, you're no longer welcome." Miles pulled some money out of his pocket and handed it to the sheriff. "This should cover it. If it's too much, give the rest to the kid." He walked over to Jason for a last word. "I'm sorry things didn't work out, Jason. Really, I am. You seem to be a good kid; it's just that you've got a short fuse and a bad temper. If you don't get it under control, things could go really bad for you. I hope you can work it out. Take care." He turned away leaving Jason hanging against the bars. As he passed the sheriff he softly commented, "Don't let him out until I'm well out of town."
"He'll be here for a few more hours," replied the sheriff.
After Miles had left the office, the sheriff moved Jason's belongings away from his desk. As he did he noticed the axe handle sticking out of his rifle scabbard. He pulled it out to examine it. Jason stood watching.
"Why do you carry an axe handle, son."
"Because I don't own a rifle."
"You don't own a rifle and your gun has no bullets. Other than a hot temper, I would guess you were pretty harmless, until now. This stick looks like it has blood on it."
"It does."
"And just whose blood is this, if I might ask?"
"It belongs to my ma's husband. I beat him half to death before we rode out on him. It was repayment for all the times he beat us."
"Are you sure you only beat him half to death?"
"Go ask her yourself," Jason challenged. "She's right across the street at the doctor's office."
"I think I will," replied the sheriff as he walked out the door, stick in hand.
As he stepped into the office, Sarah was busy filing some papers. "Miss McKinney, or should I say, Mrs. McKinney?"
She turned to see Sheriff Mason standing in front of her with an axe handle in his hand.
"Excuse me, Mrs. McKinney, but I have a question to ask you."
Ben heard the sheriff talking with Sarah and stepped into the room. "Is there a problem here, sheriff?"
"Oh no, no problem. I just have a question to ask Mrs. McKinney about this here axe handle. It was in with Jason's belongings Miles Hanley brought by my office earlier."
"Belongings?" questioned Sarah. "Why would Miles bring Jason his belongings?"
"Because Jason no longer works for the XO. Miles cut him loose.
"What! Miles fired him?" Sarah began to cry. Ben put his arm around her and tried to console her.
"I'm sorry ma'am, but I need to ask you a question. Jason tells me he beat your husband half to death with this stick before the two of you left home. Is that correct?"
Sarah stopped crying and dried the tears from her eyes. "No, Sheriff Mason, that is not correct. The day Jason and I left Topeka, I beat my husband half to death, not Jason.
Mason was unable to hide his surprise. "You did? Not Jason?"
"Yes, sheriff, that's correct," replied Sarah, her voice trembling. "My husband was a drunk, and when he drank he got mean. Jason and I endured his beatings for over ten years. One day I couldn't take it any longer. As he was about to beat Jason, I thought, "No, this isn't going to happen anymore." The axe handle was by the door, so I grabbed it up and went out into the yard. I came up behind him and swung it as hard as I could, hitting him over the head with it, but I'm afraid I didn't stop there. Thinking he might turn on me, I beat him until he couldn't get up and then we gathered a few of our belongings and rode off. He was alive when we left him. At least I think he was."
"Let me see if I have this right. You beat your husband senseless and then just rode off and left him," reiterated the sheriff.
Trembling, Sarah nodded her head. "I couldn't take it any longer. I needed to get us out of there."
"Even so, I'm afraid I'm going to have to wire Topeka and see if there have been any charges filed against you."
"I did what I felt I had to do sheriff, I'm sure you'll do the same. I'll be anxious to hear the reply. When will you be letting Jason out of your jail?"
Mason nodded, not completely satisfied with the situation. "His bail's been posted. He'll be out within the hour."
"You let me know, I'll come get him."
Continue Reading
Chapter Three / On the Trail to Fort Scott
Chapter Five / Good News, Bad News
Chapter Six / Trailing the Dog
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A full length novel by Scott A. Gese
The day Sarah McKinney finally escaped the clutches of her abusive husband, she and her adopted son, Jason, began a perilous journey and a new life on the run. The future hangs in the balance as their unhappy past and the man they left behind threatens to catch up with them.
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