Strongheart by Don Bendell Page A

known locally by the nickname Gold Tom, because of some money he made in the area doing placer mining. Gold Tom had traveled a lot in South America, and the hard rock ridges around Cototpaxi really reminded him of that place, and he shared that information with everybody. Cotopaxi would eventually become the official name for the small settlement where these gulches came together on the fast-flowing Arkansas River.
    E. H. Saltiel was a bigwig, and he had been visiting Cotopaxi a good bit and already made offers to buy Gold Tom’s mine. He eventually would, but had not by the time Strongheart arrived. In fact, Gold Tom had just founded the mine earlier in that year, but already people who passed through the area knew who he was, as he was one of those salty characters that seemed to permeate the West. Unfortunately, seven years after Joshua Strongheart passed through Cotopaxi, Gold Tom would be shot and killed in a ridiculous argument over a dog.
    There were only a few buildings in Cotopaxi in the early 1870s. Harry Hart and his wife, their two sons, Harry Jr. and Myer, and their two daughters, Addie and Phoebe, had moved to Cotopaxi and felt its location might be a good spot to build for the future. They built a general store and a hotel right there a stone’s throw from the churning, bubbling Arkansas River and adjacent to the large wagon bridge across the river, connecting to the north bank.
    The general store was run by another character, Zachariah Banta, who had a twinkle in his powder blue eyes, a head like an ostrich, and a mischievous half smile ever present on his wrinkled countenance. He would become for Joshua the source of information that might put him on the track of the killers.
    â€œWal,” Banta said, “I reckon you don’t live around here. You may wanna ask me how I reckon such?”
    Joshua grinned. “How did you figure that out, sir?”
    Zachariah Banta picked up a small wooden barrel of potatoes and moved them to a different part of one of the shelves.
    He turned and grinned, saying, “Wal, that was purty easy to deduce. Ya see, in Cotopaxi—that’s what we call this area—wal, there ain’t much to see in a place so small, but what ya hear makes up fer it.”
    Strongheart chuckled while Banta continued on. “Now, mind ya. I personally ain’t a gossip. But I am informative.”
    Joshua laughed aloud.
    Banta continued. “So since I ain’t ever seen ya before, and I heered no gossip about ya, I reckon ya must be new ta Cotopax. Possible jest passin’ through.”
    Strongheart said, “Actually, maybe you can help me.”
    Banta chuckled. “All a them bullet holes and bandages on ya, somebody sure as hell needs ta help ya.”
    Grinning, Joshua said, “My name is Joshua Strongheart, sir. I got shot up during a stage holdup on Copper Gulch Road.”
    â€œHell,” Banta growled. “Any folks kilt?”
    â€œYes, several,” Joshua said.
    Zachariah poured him coffee, and Joshua told him about the holdup and described the gunmen.
    â€œThet is the McMahon boys,” the oldster said. “Jeeter and Harlance are brothers and rattlesnake mean. Sounds like ya kilt Long Legs Westbrook. Thet’s his horse yer ridin.’ Thet’s why I was probin’.”
    Joshua said, “He gave Gabriel to me before he died. Made me promise to take good care of him.”
    â€œWal, he shore did take care a Gabe. Only good thing about Long Legs,” Zachariah said, “he took durned good care of thet purty painted up critter. Never bought me a horse fer color, but thet is about the best horse I ever seen, and I have seen plenty a horses thet have crunched lotsa gravel under their hooves.”
    â€œI have to catch up with those killers fast,” Joshua said.
    Banta said, “Alone?”
    Strongheart said firmly, “Yes.”
    â€œWal, I reckon ya better have ya a good education on how to put