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When I came to the light felt like a branding iron being shoved into my eyes. It was some time before I could open them just a little bit, and then what I saw made me shut them fast. After a while I tried it again. There was something reflecting light, and slowly it took the form of a badge. Darn it, that was what I thought I saw the first time.
"Don't bother with jail," I told whatever was wearing that badge, "Just go ahead and hang me right here. Put me out of my misery."
"Why would I want to hang you? Or take you to jail, for that matter?" replied a faceless voice.
"Well, 'cause I shot up Drisco and everyone that got in the way. I ain't dead certain I did the right thing."
"You did, and you did a bang up job of it, too. I was after him as well but I met a regular army in the yard. Fact is, you saved my bacon. " He gave me a drink of water and then asked, "How did you happen to be hunting him, anyway? I've been working on his case for three months."
So I told him about my job for the ranch, and what had happened to the settlers, and the oil, and on and on until he had the whole story. He nodded his head through most of it, but acted surprised when I told him about the 32-20 shooter who had shot both settlers and Indians.
"So that was how it played out. I learned about the oil and how Hazeltine and Drisco were trying to steal the land. By the way, you nailed that rifleman. He was the fellow in the doorway of the office. His pistol was in the same caliber, probably so that he could use the same ammo in both."
"What's that badge you're wearing? It says Arizona Rangers. I've never heard of that outfit."
"You've heard of the Texas Rangers, haven't you? We're different, but close to the same thing."
I must have dozed off again, and when I awoke it was dark and the lawman was watching, waiting for me to wake up. As soon as he saw me stir he ladled up a cup of soup and spooned it into me. I don't think I ever tasted anything as good as that simple soup of split peas and fatback. I could feel the strength seep back into my body and my mind clear.
I lay back when I was finished. When he saw that I was going to stay awake the man asked me, "What are you planning to do now?"
I was completely honest when I told him I didn't have a clue. My dream of being a gunfighter had faded away after learning the nature of the breed. They were a far cry from the modern knights that I had imagined.
"You did a good job defusing the Navajo Wash situation before it came to a head.
Have you ever thought of being a lawman?"
It had never even crossed my mind, but now that he had said it I liked the idea. I asked him to tell me more.
"Instincts are a big part of it, and you show good ones. Plus you need perseverance so that you work a case like a hound dog smelling out a lost track. Guts, intelligence; you have shown plenty of these. You would be doing good and you'd make wages. You wouldn't get rich but it's honest money and that counts for a lot. The Rangers could use another good man. What do you think?"
My mind was all ready made up. "I'd like that. You know, my real name is Torrence and I didn't like it because it made me sound like a lawyer. An Arizona Ranger, though, I like the sound of that."
"I think Torrence is a much better Ranger's name than Snake. By the way, my name is Bud Hagan. I'll show you the ropes before you get sent out alone."
My recovery was speedy, and I tried to exercise as much as possible to get back in the saddle. I worked on my draw, too, worried that I might have lost some skill while I was laid up. Hagan was impressed.
"I wouldn't have thought it possible," he said. "I've been around a long while and I've seen some of the best, and danged if I don't think you're faster. You really are quicker than a snake." And from that day on he would sometimes call me Torrence, and sometimes Snake.
Finally the day came when it was deemed that I was well enough to ride, and we traveled to Prescott to get me signed in all proper. At camps on the way I would practice. Sometimes Hagan would shoot with me, and he would think up all but impossible targets. I would work on them until I could hit them consistently. One evening we camped early by a spring. Bud apparently had been here before and when our make shift camp was complete he motioned me to come with him. I noticed that he carried his six-gun at ready and I whispered my query.
"Are you expecting trouble?"
"No, supper." And then I realized that we were hunting, not defending ourselves, and we walked through the tree clad area, shooting at the grouse that called this hillside home. We had each picked up two plump birds with head shots. Those grouse had of course been sitting on the ground. We were heading back to camp when a grouse flushed with a roar of wings and flew right to left in the brightness of the setting sun. Without thought my hand flashed to my holster and at my shot the bird plummeted to the ground.
"I wouldn't have believed it," was all Hagan said. And he repeated the same words again. Truth be known, it kind of surprised me, too, but I didn't let on.
The bird was shot through the chest but it was a clean hole and I ate that very bird for supper. I cast my own bullets and made them hard enough that they would not expand unless hitting a very solid object. Be it small game or a deer the slug made a clean hole that destroyed no meat. Of course, a big bore is necessary for that type of bullet to do its job. My 45 fit the bill very well, indeed.
In due time we approached town. As it came into view we pulled over beside the trail and I could tell that Hagan had something on his mind. The look of concern on the usually poker faced man was almost comic. I saved him his search for words.
"I'll just bet you're thinking we should stop and buy me some new duds. You're right. My old coat is so bad a dog wouldn't lie on it and my hat looks like it was used for target practice. I've got some money saved. You can show me what a ranger should wear." I said should because his outfit was nearly as shabby as mine. The difference was that he was an old hand and had to make no impressions.
Just goes to show what I know. We found a general store that carried everything we needed and I bought new pants and a shirt, plus a duster that matched a new black hat. I found the price of a new pair of boots a bit too dear and I decided my old ones had a lot of life left in them.
Hagan bought fancy duds the like of which I had never seen. A gold colored vest went over a white shirt and a turquoise string tie. He paid ten cents to have a boy shine his boots. The hat he picked out was a white ranchers model, and he bought a turquoise hatband to go on it.
At my stare of amazement he proclaimed, " Might go sparkin', and it never hurts to look your best when you see a lady."
"You got yourself a girl? Well, I'll be. Bet she's eighty years old and half blind anyway."
His wrinkled eyes twinkled. "Don't you believe it, boy. She's not much older than you, and you are not going to meet her."
I was never what you would call a Don Juan, but of course I didn't let on like that. Instead I gave my best tough guy impression and said, "Wise Choice."
We were a much better looking pair when we entered the Rangers' office and the captain made out that he didn't recognize Hagan. But then he quickly got down to business. Bud told him my story and I was quickly sworn in. I was given a badge and just like that, I was an Arizona Ranger.
Hagan had planned for me to accompany him and learn the ropes, but as it transpired his tutorship would have to be at a later date. The captain had a job for each of us.
"Bud, I just got in a wire. The Twombly brothers have escaped from Yuma. You can guess where they will head."
Hagan was a sight to behold. His usually calm demeanor was replaced with a frown that carried all the worry of the world. His mouth twisted downward, and he just said, "I'd better go."
"I knew you'd be in a hurry," said the captain. "I know this is important for you, and I just want to tell you to be careful. Don't let your emotions get in the way of your judgment.
"I know you were going to take Terrance with you but I have another job for him to do. From what you have told me, he'll be fine."
Hagan quickly embarked on his journey and the captain turned his attention to me. "We have an unusual situation concerning a mail order bride. Apparently one Penelope Grimes traveled out here to meet her potential husband. For some reason she changed her mind. That's not unusual. A lot of girls simply get back on the train and go back home. But when she changed her mind the man she came to meet grabbed her, through her over his shoulder and tossed her in his wagon. She screamed bloody murder when he carried her away and begged anyone to wire her father. Her potential husband's name is Neal Young.
"Her father is the mayor of Albany. Somebody did wire him and he is fit to be tied. He sent a message to the territorial governor, and you can guess where it went from there. So, as you can gather, this is important. Go find them and see what you can find out. They were last seen at Lee's Ferry."
And that was how it started. Pretty low key. I was given a badge and sent directly out on a case. I took the badge out of my pocket and gave it a closer inspection. It was a simple star with the words Arizona Rangers in the middle. Just a good target, Hagan had told me, but when I pinned it to my shirt a spring went into my step that had not been there before.
Hagan had told my one other thing- "Common sense is the most important requirement in this job." I hoped I had a sufficient amount to make the grade.
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