Free Sidewinder by Jory Sherman

the pipe and did the same thing, blowing smoke in four directions.
    “The Mexican sheepherders who bring their sheep to the mountains in summer bring much tobacco. We buy, we trade.” Wading Crow passed the pipe back to Gray Owl. “We have much tobacco. We buy the old sheep from them.”
    “Wading Crow does not like sheep much,” Gray Owl remarked. “He likes the beef.”
    “But we do not have beef anymore. If you have beef, Sidewinder, I would like to buy some cows from you.”
    “I have beef,” Brad said. “I suppose I could sell you a few head. How will you pay?”
    “I will pay in gold.”
    “Gold?”
    “My people have much gold.”
    Julio’s eyebrows arched in surprise.
    “Dust or nuggets?” Brad asked.
    “Some dust. Some small nuggets. We have a scale as well.”
    “Do you know where my ranch is?” Brad asked.
    “Do you not live in the valley below where the Mexi cano Albert once lived?”
    Brad exchanged a look with Julio. Felicity looked puzzled. She wore a quizzical expression on her face.
    “Who is this Albert?” she asked. “Why have I never heard of him?”
    “Julio, did you show her the burned house?” Brad asked.
    “Yes. I did not tell her who had once lived there.”
    “That was Albert’s house? Who was he? What happened?”
    “Seguin,” Wading Crow said. “Albert Seguin. He and his woman, his two sons were killed by a very bad man, a stealer of cattle. There was an American boy living with him also. He, too, was killed. I did not know his name. He said he had run away.”
    “He was from Denver, I heard,” Julio said. “The white boy. I had forgotten about him. His father rode down from Denver, took his body back there to be buried.”
    “Do you know who the rustlers were?” Brad asked.
    Gray Owl passed the pipe back to Wading Crow. He puffed slowly on it.
    “We know the stealers of cattle,” he said. “Two brothers. They are called Coombs. The leader is Delbert. His brother is called Hiram. They are very bad white men. They are much feared.”
    Brad looked at Julio.
    “I did not know who the rustlers were. I did not want to know. I did not ask.”
    “How horrible,” Felicity said. “To murder those poor people over a few head of cattle.”
    “The bad men live in Oro City,” Wading Crow said. “They steal from good men.”
    “What do they do with the cattle they steal?” Brad asked.
    “They are what you call butchers,” Wading Crow said. “They sell the meat to those who cook and sell food in the towns.”
    “Why hasn’t somebody stopped them?” Felicity asked. “Why doesn’t the law arrest them?”
    “I do not know,” Wading Crow said.
    “Julio?” Brad looked straight at him.
    “I think people are afraid. And it is said that they pay the town marshal and the sheriff. There is much money to be made in selling cattle that cost no pesos to the thieves.”
    “Damn,” Brad said. “Somebody ought to do something. Back in Missouri, they would be hanged.”
    “They do not hang such men in Oro City,” Julio said glumly.
    They all sat silent for a time, listening to the soft patter of rain on the spruce-laden shelter. Felicity wondered if she ought to tell Brad about the horse tracks down by the creek. She could not help thinking about them now, especially after learning about the Seguin family. Maybe the Coombs brothers were scouting out their ranch, counting heads, with an idea to rustle their entire herd, some two hundred cows. No, now was not that time. They were stuck up here in the storm. She would tell him on the way back or wait until they got home.
    “Wading Crow,” Felicity said, after a time, “why did you call my husband ‘Sidewinder’? His name is Brad. Brad Storm.”
    “Indian name, Sidewinder.”
    She looked at Brad. “Your Indian name? When did this happen?”
    “This morning, I think. Last night maybe. It’s just what they call me.”
    “Him good medicine,” Gray Owl said. “Strong medicine. Kill sidewinder.” He made a