A Cold Hard Trail - Softcover

Chapter 1

If you ever heared a me atall what you mighta heared is that I run off from my home in Texas when I was just only fourteen year old 'cause a the fact that I had done kilt me a man. The man what I had kilt was named ole Joe Pigg, and I kilt ole Pigg 'cause a the pure and simple fact a the matter that the son of a bitch had shot my poor ole dog Farty. I kilt him with a ax handle, and then my ole paw give me ten bucks and a swayback horse and tole me to get the hell outa Texas.

Well, that was all a few year ago, and in the course a me traveling all through them years, well, I learnt me a thing or two. First off, I learnt me how to be a good cowhand, but only I never could seem to keep hold of a job. Seems like ever time I was to get me a good job, along come a Pigg what had it in for me 'cause a what I had did to ole Joe. So I had to kill another Pigg. Oh, yeah. The other thing what I learnt was how to handle a six-gun pretty damn good, and I really had to learn that, 'cause I ain't got much size on me.

Then somewhere along the way come another family, this one called the Hookses. I kilt me one a them, and it was all for a good enough reason, I guess, but then the rest of them Hookses never seemed to agree with me on that matter, so they got after me too, and for a whilethere it seemed to me that the whole damn world was populated with nothing but Piggses and Hookses. Seemed like ever'where I went up popped another one a them bastards. Anyhow, come a time when I final figgered I had done got rid of all of them, so I could kinda relax just a little bit.

Another thing you mighta heared if you heared about me atall is that I partnered up with an ole boy what called hisself Zeb Pike but only I come to find out that the real Zeb Pike was long dead and gone and my Zeb Pike just only used that name 'cause he liked it, I guess. Anyhow, he was my pardner, and his main and only real ambition in life was to sniff out a big bonanza a gold, and I learnt something about gold sniffing from him too.

And then of all folks to pop back up into my life was my own ole paw what I had never thought really give a shit about me till he give me that ten dollars and that old swayback and told me to get outa Texas for my life. But he come around after folks had done got to calling me a regular Billy the Kid, what I kinda resented till ole Paw seemed to be so proud a my new reputation. I damn near even carved notches on my gun butts, but a wiser head come along and stopped me from doing that. Hell, I even cut out keeping a count a the folks I kilt. I guess I figgered out that killing folks ain't nothing to be too proud of.

But anyhow, circumstances had worked around me in such a way that I was riding along with ole Zeb and my ole paw, what I really wished had never come back into my young life. You see, I never had no real love for Paw, 'cause he had never really showed it that he had none for me. Not till he seed it that I was coming to be knowed as a real bad gunslinger, and a course, Maw never had seemed to keer too much about me neither.The last thing I remember about Maw she had slapped me real hard across the face.

Well, I was all outa jobs, and I didn't really have nothing special to do with my young life, so when ole Zeb said he wanted to go sniffing again, I said that I didn't mind too much. We rid up into the hills and commenced to panning a little just for what old Zeb called pocket money, and we was piling up some too, but it come to be too much work for Paw. We was setting at our little camp late of a evening, sipping some coffee around our campfire when Paw commenced to bellyaching.

"Why the hell don't we get down outa these damn mountains?" he said.

"We're a-making money, Paw," I said.

"There's heap better ways a doing that," he said. "Hell, I ain't seed a woman or a bottle a whiskey in so long that I wonder would I know what to do with either one if I was to see it again."

"You don't need to go seeing no women," I said. "Not unless you go on back home to Maw where you had oughta be anyhow. I ain't never yet figgered out what you're a-doing away out here in Colorady when Maw's home all by her lonesome."

"Well, now that ain't none a your damn business, Melvin," Paw said.

That set me off like nothing else could. I had told him before that if he ever was to call me that name again, which really by the way is my name what they had give me when I was borned, that I would kill him dead. Well, I never kilt him dead. He was my paw, but whenever he said that after I had told him what I told him, I just kinda went crazy like, and I whipped out my Colt six-shooter, and I shot the lobe right offa his left ear. I was some mad, I can tell you. Melvin ain't no right name for agunfighter or for a cowhand neither. 'Course, I weren't really being neither one a them just then. I were out a-hunting gold. Still it pissed me off considerable.

Now, before you go to thinking that I'm bragging about that there shot, I should oughta tell you that ole Paw had real big ears with long hangy down earlobes, and so it weren't no real special shot after all, and I did scratch his neck just a wee bit too. But anyhow, whenever I done that I kinda felt bad about it, 'cause he was my paw.

Well, Paw went to screaming and hollering, and he clapped a hand up to the side a his head. He come up on his feet a-dancing around and a-howling, but all that done was it made him sling all that blood around him 'stead a just letting it run down his neck and all. I put my gun away. Ole Zeb, he just set there a-waiting to see what was a going to happen next, I guess. Final, ole Paw got tired out a-dancing around the way he was doing, and he come back to where he had been setting before, and he set down again. He brung his hand down from the side a his head and held it in front a his face and looked at it all bloody with his eyes real big like something weird in the night. Then he looked over at me.

"Boy," he said, "you like to a kilt me. Your own paw."

"I shoulda," I said. "I done told you that I would if you was to ever call me that name again. Didn't I? You recollect that time? I told you."

"Well, yeah, but I--"

"I woulda, too, if you wasn't my paw. And something else. I never like to a kilt you, 'cause if I'd a meant to kill you, you'd be dead right now. I shot a man's ear off once before, and I done that a purpose. I done exact what I meant to do with that there bullet. Your damn earlobe was too long anyhow."

Well, ole Zeb, he couldn't hold off no longer on that one. He bursted out a-laughing and went to rolling on the ground. I could see that made Paw some angry, but he was a-holding back, 'cause he knowed what I thunk about ole Zeb, and he weren't about to do nothing to piss me off again, knowing that he still had one good hangy down earlobe for me to shoot at. It's a good thing too. Facing a man and being right-handed, it's a mite tougher to pick off a right lobe than it is to nip the left one.

Pretty soon ole Zeb quit laughing and set back up and went to wiping the tears out a his eyes. Paw was setting still with a heavy pout on his face, and I was feeling bad on account a what I had did. I figgered I had best say something.

"It'll scab over here in a minute or two," I said, "and it won't hurt too much neither. A earlobe ain't much of a loss."

Ole Zeb musta decided just then that he'd oughta help out in calming the whole situation down some. He stood up and walked over to his pack and shoved a arm way down in it. He kinda scrambled around in there for a while. Then he come out with a whiskey bottle. It was nearly full too.

"I been hiding this here back for emergencies," he said. "I reckon this might be...