Tales of the Arizona Rangers
by Timothy Fogg

Chapter Eleven -- Night Moves

Leon's story about J.D. being in this town for over twenty-five years was a revelation. It was possible that the man was guilty of much more than he was even suspected of. "When I get back from Tombstone," the ranger told himself, "I'm going to get to know Jones better than he knows himself. I hope."

Linda had more plans than just coming to town to check up on him. "Why don't we all ride with you, at least to our ranch? You almost have to stay over somewhere, and you'll have a nice safe place to stay."

"Safe? In the same house with you? You scare me."

"I'll bet. What I bet is that you have a woman in every town in the territory, except maybe this one."

"Why, you're here. That counts."

"Oh my goodness thank you, I didn't think you had noticed. Who have you got in Tombstone? Big Nosed Kate?"

"Don't even joke about it." Hagan had become serious. "She is Doc Holliday's woman, and he is a gunfighter who just won't quit."

"Is he really that dangerous? How come?"

"Simple. He has tuberculosis. He knows he hasn't got much time left, so he is not afraid of dying. That makes the most deadly combination in the West; a gunman who is not afraid of death.."

Linda shuddered. "Ugh, it is awful to think about."

"Don't. Holliday doesn't. And he is not an evil man; he just lives in a dangerous situation. He's a good man to have on your side."

In the morning they loaded up and headed out, bringing along a very unwilling prisoner. Twombly was absolutely nasty.

"Hey Ranger, what are we, going on a picnic? You and that little..."

"TWOMBLY! Shut your mouth or I'll do it for you. When there is a lady present you will say please and thank you."

"She ain't no lady, not if you.."

Faster then the eye could follow the Arizona Ranger drew his Colt and slammed the barrel alongside the outlaw's head. "Twombly, I'll tell you one more time. The sight of blood doesn't bother me much, especially if it's yours. When the lady s present you will mind your manners. Or I will hurt you. Savvy?"

An answering grunt from Twombly passed for a yes.

When they rode out of town a face was glued to the bank's rear window.

"Did you see him, Leon?" asked Bud.

"Yeah, I saw him. I wonder what's going on in that head of his."

"Probably nothing good." 

The Arizona Ranger was right. J.D. Jones didn't have any good thoughts, at least none that anybody knew about. From the time he was a small child nothing had happened to make him feel otherwise. His father had been a banker who decided he wanted to emulate John Jacob Astor by getting wealthy through the buying and selling of furs. He was years too late.

When the old man sunk all his money into a proposed rendezvous at Yellowstone his wagons full of dry and wet goods were attacked on the Platte and the valuables all lost. It didn't really matter, for none of the remaining mountain men were coming anyway. Astor held a similar event at Taos and that is where they blew their last year's wages.

Mr. Jones was devastated and his bank immediately closed. What he did for the rest of his life is not known, certainly not by J.D., for he left to save himself embarrassment. To him the word failure was as bad as it gets, and that is what egged him on for the remainder of his time. He never saw or heard from any member of his family again. Or, to be exact, except for the once when he had cleaned out the very last of his father's money from the vault. He had been outside when his father had shown up, and his last memory of him was the pasty white face pressed against the window. "Loser," was all he thought of the incident.

J.D. traded with all the dishonest elements he could find for the next few years. He wanted to build a big stake and he didn't care how he did it. When the War Between the States came along he traded with barbarians like Quantrell. Be they Northern or Southern, if stolen goods came along he was ready to buy them for pennies on the dollar. He was sorry when the war ended, for he had made a small fortune in its duration.

He tried his hand at carpet bagging but his results were poor. He did not have any friends in high up places to give him absolute authority. When he wrangled a position in Texas he was nearly killed. The Texans didn't care if a man was a judge or a banker; if they found him to be crooked his life was in danger. J.D. left Texas looking for a different line of work.

When the transcontinental railroad was completed it was a revelation to him. He could now run crooked operations all over the country. If he was questioned he could simply say that he was just passing through on the train so how could he be involved? It turned out that he never was even questioned, for a man in a business suit is usually the last one to be suspected.

J.D. shipped whiskey from the East and cattle from the West. His whiskey was destined for illegal sale to the Indians and his beef was some of the heaviest know to history. The reason was he was buying pilfered ore from mine workers and stuffing it down the gullets of the cattle. He rode with them to make sure he lost nothing when these beeves were slaughtered.

How anyone caught on he never knew, but one day as a train approached the stockyards a trio of Pinkertons was waiting. J.D. wasn't even sure if they were onto his scam or another. He simply buried his face in a newspaper and kept riding. He had taken a small loss on that trip. It was time to move on to a more promising forte.

He went back to Sierra Vista and opened his own bank. He was done with the railroad and this town was far enough away from it that he felt secure. One of his earliest and more profitable heists had been made very close to this town. He wondered if Leon Applebee had ever suspected him of being there when his partner was killed. It didn't seem likely, or the man would have come calling. No, the Indian disguises had worked admirably.

That Arizona Ranger had him worried. He was sharp. It was obvious that the visit to his bank was because of some suspicions, not for a need of an account. Wes Smith had stumbled around past the truth for years and never picked up a clue. Hagan was different. In just a couple of days the fellow knew more about this town than Smith had learned in years. J.D. didn't like it.

A while back J.D. had done a little business with a man by the name of Johnny Ringo. That had been profitable at the time, but it was doubly so because Ringo had given him an idea. An idea that, if pushed to its fullest, could indeed make J.D. the crime lord of the Southwest, and nobody would be the wiser.

At least that's what he hoped. That Ranger made him nervous. He was too smart for his own good. Maybe it was time to do away with him. 

Twombly was not only fit to be tied - he was tied. A rope ran between his horse and the one of the cowboy in front of his kept him moving. To his rear another had carrying a double-barreled shotgun watched his back. There was no chance of escape on this trail. "Maybe tonight at the ranch," he thought.

Ahead of him Hagan and the Applebees joked and laughed as they rode along. The ranger looked like he didn't have a care in the world, and with Linda by his side he certainly had no worries.

"Couldn't I ride along with you to Tombstone, Bud? I can shoot as well as most, and you would be safer." Linda knew she would be vetoed, but she had to try.

Leon couldn't resist the opportunity. "Now, Linda, I don't think Bud would be very safe if you got him alone on the range."

"Oh, you, you just mind your own business. What do you think, Bud, can I ride along?"

"I'm sorry, kid, but not this time. I am on duty, and if he escaped people would. think it was because my mind was on you. And they'd be right," he smiled. "Not only that, but it would be scandalous. I won't be the cause of any talk about you."

"In this territory? You know as well as I do that a lot of girls from the cribs are marrying cowboys and making them good wives. Nobody gossips about them."

"Apples and oranges. Your positions are totally different."

"He's right, Lindy," put in her father. "You come from a better background and have a lot further to fall. And that is the end of the matter."

To her credit, Linda accepted his last word and still kept her cheerful mood. "At least you can stop on your was back and spend a day. You deserve a day off, and when is the last time you took one?"

The ranger looked a bit sheepish. "Tell you the truth, I can't remember."

"Then it's settled. You will stay for a whole day, and I'll show you all the interesting things we have on the ranch."

When they arrived at the ranch it was way before dark, and after jailing the prisoner securely in a storage shed and posting a guard they rode around the spread a bit to show Bud the lay of the land. The normal route of travel was from the east and he knew that well. To the south lay broken hills that sloped down to the desert sands.

"Leon, do you think Lost Canyon could exist down there?"

"Sure it could," said the elder man. "I've never seen a lot of the land that I lay claim to. Beyond that, who knows? It's like everything else in the west - full of surprises. Look at all the gold and silver that the prospectors are still discovering. Just when you think there is nothing new, there it is, right under your nose."

"You have a point. You know, I'm going to find it. When I do I'll bet it will be the end of these night time robberies."

Word had just come down to the very canyon that the ranger was looking for. The man in charge read the instruction, than quickly read them again. It made no sense, for there was no mention of what they were to steal. What was the sense of a raid if one didn't steal?

No matter. He was a loyal man as long as the money was coming in. He picked the raiders he wanted and told them to saddle up. Then he took two men with him and wrestled a harness on an animal that was truly alien to this territory. When all was ready he led them off with instructions to be very quiet until the actual raid. 

Their dinner had been great, as had the singing afterwards. Now Mrs. Applebee made an announcement. "Well, it's time for us old folks to turn in. Linda and Bud, you folks will have the parlor to yourselves."

"I'm not tired. I'll stay up with 'em," said the woman's husband.

"Leon, we are tired. Now come along."

"Yes, Dear." He finally got the drift of what she was saying.

Linda laughed as her parents left them alone. "Now too subtle, is she?"

"She's nice. They both are. That must be why you're so nice." He put his arm around her shoulders.

She turned to kiss him, but before she could a strange sound came from the edge of the ranch yard. A sound that might seem to be a demon to a superstitious person.

"What is that?" they cried in unison.

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