Read Online Once a Ranger by Dusty Richards - Free Book Online

came from.”
    Noble shook his head. “I hadn’t either.”
    â€œShe may come to the dance too, you said,” Dan put in.
    â€œThey all said they might. Now you have all the gossip we learned,” Guthrey teased her and smiled.
    â€œWill we go to the dance this week?” she asked.
    â€œCertainly. I am going to check on things at Soda Springs and come right back.”
    â€œGood.” She hugged his shoulder. “Nice to have you all back. I’ll get busy and bake some pies.”
    â€œWhew, we sure saw lots of country not to have gotten them horses back. Those two that stole them went over into New Mexico and we quit. I don’t like it one bit.”
    She nodded, understanding his concern. “Maybe they won’t be back.”
    Guthrey stopped. “No. They got by with it once. I’d say they’ll do it again.”
    After breakfast, he saddled a big bay ranch horse called Jim Green. He’d chuckled several times at what cowboys named horses in their remuda. Many times he’d picked a different name for the one he rode, but to the rest this horse would still be Jim Green. As Shorty Harris told him one time when he was Rangering down in the Waco area, “The damn horse won’t come when you call them by it anyway.”
    Jim Green had a running walk he could hold all day. And he always shortened the ride over to town and back. So Guthrey set out and arrived in midafternoon.
    Things must be quiet.
Teddy Baker was behind the desk and reading wanted posters. He stood up and shook Guthrey’s hand. “How are you doing? We had word you’d gone fishing.”
    â€œI wish.” Guthrey laughed. “Thayer, a rancher in the Dragoons, had four horses stolen. Dan, Noble, and I rode our butts off over to a place the other side of the Chiricahuas called Portal. They’d gone on to New Mexico. So we came back.”
    â€œHe’s the man that married the woman that was an Apache hostage and she walked, I heard, on foot all the way back from the Sierra Madres.”
    â€œYes. Nice lady. What’s happening around here?”
    â€œSome big outfit bought the Whitmore Ranch, or they said they did. The ramrod is pretty much a big mouth. His name is Walter Pierson. He came in here demanding to see you and said the small ranchers were eating his beef and he wanted it stopped. I asked him if he had any proof and he simply went on talking about what he was going to do to them, spouting off about running the other ranchers out or shutting them down. I simply told him there was law here and he was not the judge or jury. I don’t think he liked it, but I think we have more trouble—like you had before.”
    â€œShould have put him in a box and shipped him back to where he came from.”
    â€œI damn sure wanted to. I have the funeral home report on the Carlson bodies.”
    Guthrey took it from him and read the report. The missus died from being beaten over the head with a club. George Carlson died from two .44 bullets in his chest. The girl had been raped and smothered to death. The paper had been signed by the doctor and funeral man. They’d done a thorough job.
    He put the paper down. “I have a boot print of a large boot. It’s a real big one. And a goatskin glove with a star on it drawn with indelible ink.”
    The glove, retrieved from Guthrey’s vest pocket, he handed to Baker, who examined it. “Nice job of sewing it. The woman who made that was a real craftsman. You know anyone makes them like that?”
    â€œNo, but we need to find her if she’s in the area. You think a woman made it?”
    Baker nodded. “Those small stitches took lots of care and time. We’ll find the maker if she’s around here, plus she hand worked lots of sheep fat in that leather to ever get it that soft.”
    â€œShe’s probably made hundreds and she won’t recall him, but the star may be a lead. Put it