The Hunt for Clyde Borders

It was late in the afternoon when Jake Sullivan started looking for a place to stop for the night. He figured he was about ninety miles from San Antonio, Texas, the place where his information indicated Clyde Borders would likely be headed, and maybe ten miles from Bastrop. Jake didn't intend to stop until just before the sun went down, but the area didn't have many streams and trees and Jake needed both.

A stream meant water, grass, and trees, and trees meant firewood. Jake needed water for his horse, Jim, and for his packhorse, Jenny. They'd graze through the night on grass while Jake slept by his fire. He also needed some trees close to the road to serve as cover because he was going to sit behind that cover and wait for Clyde Borders to ride by.

Jake was looking for Clyde Borders for one reason and one reason only. Clyde Borders had shot and killed his younger brother, Aaron, and Jake intended to track him down and take him back to Nacogdoches to stand trial. Jake wasn't a lawman but after enduring so much killing during the War Between the States, he was going to let the law take his revenge for him.

Borders had killed Jake's brother on their ranch just outside of Nacogdoches, almost a hundred and seventy miles from San Antonio. A cowhand who worked on the Sullivan ranch and was working in the barn had seen the shooting and knew the shooter. That should be enough to get Borders tried, convicted, and sentenced to hang.

Jake didn't think Borders deserved the luxury of spending time in a jail, then going on trial, and finally being sentenced to hang. Borders hadn't given Aaron even a chance to fight back. Jake was taking Borders back to Nacogdoches because he figured the Circuit Judge would sentence Borders to hang within a week of the trial.

Jake figured watching Borders hang would just be making up a little for what Aaron had done for his older brother. Aaron had broken his leg when he was ten and it had not healed right. The Confederate Army wouldn't let him enlist, so Aaron had run the ranch by himself while Jake was off fighting the Union during the War Between the States.

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Jake had been home from the war for a year and was out riding the fences when Borders showed up at the ranch house. According to the cowhand who witnessed it, Borders asked Aaron if he had any jobs. When Aaron said he'd never give anything to Borders, Borders pulled his revolver and shot Aaron in the chest. When Jake got back to the ranch, he found Aaron dead on the front porch and the house ransacked.

Jake knew Borders as well. Borders was twenty and since he was eighteen had worked sometimes as a cowhand for the Murphy ranch, but had been in trouble most of his life. The only reason Alec Murphy let him work on his ranch was that Alec Murphy was a devout Baptist and refused to believe any man was incapable of being saved from a life of crime.

Alec would sigh when Borders was sentenced to spend a week in jail for being drunk or for starting a fight.

"Well, what can you expect from a boy whose mother and father both died when he was just fifteen? Boy never had any proper upbringing. He'll come around if I keep working with him."

Alec's opinion of Borders changed the day Alec came back from town in his wagon early and found Borders riding Alec's personal cow horse down the lane from the ranch. Alec stopped his wagon and asked Borders what he was doing. Borders tried to make an excuse.

"Mr. Murphy, Rex here looked like he was limpin' when he walked but I couldn't be sure there in the corral. I'm jest takin' him fer a walk so's I can watch him walk."

Alec frowned.

"I gave you a horse to ride. Why are you so concerned about Rex and why did you need him saddled with my new saddle and bridle to watch him walk?"

"Well, Mr. Murphy, I figured maybe it was when he was totin' a rider or a tight place on the saddle that was causing it. That's why he's saddled and I'm ridin' him."

Alec didn't mince words.

"You got a bedroll tied behind my saddle and there's a gunnysack filled with something tied to the saddle horn. Looks to me like you intend to do more than watch my horse walk. Looks to me like you don't plan on comin' back.

"What I think is you're stealin' my horse and my new saddle and bridle. I can forgive about anythin' except for thievery and murder. You get off my horse and start walkin' and don't come back. I'll shoot you if you do."

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Borders hadn't been seen in the area since, but after that incident, several things had happened that weren't usual.

At first, they were things that might happen on any ranch. It was possible that a cowhand had been taking a nap and didn't see his horse wander off. That's what Jacob Riley had done. He'd been repairing a fence and after eating his noon meal of bread and cheese decided to take a rest. He didn't take the saddle and bridle off his horse because he only intended to close his eyes for a few minutes. His Henry rifle was in the scabbard on the saddle because Jacob had left it there. He'd also hung his gun belt with his Navy Colt over the saddle horn so it wouldn't keep him from sleeping comfortably.

When Jacob didn't return to the bunkhouse that night, Alec sent another cowhand, Luke, to the pasture where Jacob had been repairing the fence. When they came back the next morning, both riding Luke's horse, they said they hadn't seen the horse anywhere, but they had to stop and fix the fence where the barbed wire had been cut.

David Morse, another rancher in the area, found one of his four-month old steers dead in a remote pasture. At first he thought maybe a cougar or coyotes had killed the steer. The steer had been dead for a while and the coyotes and buzzards had torn it up pretty badly. After some careful examination though, David saw what looked to him like a bullet hole in the steer's shoulder. When he looked at the carcass some more, it looked like the steer's left hindquarter had been cut away with a knife rather than gnawed off by a coyote. Someone had shot his steer and helped themselves to some meat.

After that, those unusual happenings became more frequent in occurrence and worse in what they were.

Someone went into Alec's house while he and his cowhands were rounding up his some of his cows to bring them back to the barn. When he came back, he found that he was missing three hundred dollars that he'd kept in a coffee can in the pantry. It was from this coffee can that he paid his cowhands every week so they all knew what it was and where it was. Every one of Alec's cowhands was with him that day, so that left only one person who knew about the coffee can and that was Borders.

Mrs. Grady, a widow who lived in town, went to her chicken coop to feed her chickens one morning and found two of them gone. Though she checked the coop for any holes, there was no way those two chickens could have escaped. Someone had opened the coop door and taken them. She told Marshall Owens that she thought she'd woken up about midnight because her chickens were cackling, but then they stopped. Marshall Owens looked around the chicken coop and found the hoof prints where a horse had stood for a while. Mrs. Grady didn't own a horse.

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It was a week after that when Jake found Aaron lying on the porch in a pool of blood with Tilman Roberts, one of Jake's cowhands, standing over him. The cowhand looked up at Jake.

"Mr. Sullivan, it were Borders what done this. I seen him from the barn. I heared Borders asking if Aaron had any work because he needed money and Aaron telling Borders to get off the ranch. The next thing Borders did was pull his revolver and shoot Aaron. I was afeared he'd kill me too so I waited until he went through the house and then left. Don't look to me like it'd made any difference anyway. Aaron was dead soon's he hit the ground."

One day later, Jake had buried Aaron in the family cemetery next to their mother and father. That afternoon, he asked Alec Murphy to look after the ranch while he was gone. Jake saddled Jim, his cow horse, then put the packsaddle on Jenny, hooked on the panniers, and filled them with what he thought he'd need. A few minutes later he was riding into Nacogdoches.

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Jake knew of only one person in Nacogdoches who seemed to actually like Borders, so he stopped to talk with him.

That person was Harold Wilson, the owner of Wilson's Saloon. Jake figured Harold liked Borders because of the money Borders spent there. He also thought Borders might have told Harold of any future plans he might have had.

Harold shook his head when Jake asked him.

"Sorry Jake, but he never said a word to me except to ask for another whiskey. Seemed like something was bothering him before he disappeared, but when I asked him, he said it was nothing."

Harold thought for a second, and then frowned.

"He did once say he wanted to go to San Antonio. He said too many people knew him here and he couldn't make a decent living. Claimed he had relatives there. I told him if he'd stop drinking so much, he'd have a better chance at a good job. He just shrugged and said he reckoned he'd just go to San Antonio.

"You might ask Ruth Ann Conners, down on Hayes Street. She seemed to be his favorite."

Hayes Street in Nacogdoches was the location of a row of small houses where the women lived who worked the saloon with the intent of enticing some man to go back to her house with her. Once there, she would "entertain" the man for a small sum. Ruth Ann Conners was one such woman.

When Jake asked Ruth Ann about Borders she sighed.

"Usually came to the saloon about every other week. Haven't seen him in...must be a month now."

Jake asked if he'd ever told Ruth Ann about wanting to go somewhere else. She smiled.

"Yep, all the time. Said he had kin in San Antonio and he'd like to visit them. Don't know if that was true or not, but that's what he always said."

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Jake started down to road from Nacogdoches to Crockett. He wasn't all that confident in what Harold or Ruth Ann had told him, but it did make some sense. Borders was probably all right with spending a week in jail for being drunk or for causing a fight. In fact, he might have done both because jail was a place to sleep and he got three good meals a day from the kitchen in the hotel. Robbery and murder were a different story. Robbery would have put him in jail for a long time and murder would mean he'd swing from a gallows. He'd want to get as far away from Nacogdoches as he could.

He might have family in San Antonio or he might not, but San Antonio was far enough from Nacogdoches and big enough that it might feel safe for Borders. San Antonio was also not that far from the border with Mexico. If Borders got to Mexico, it would be nearly impossible for anybody to bring him back for trial.

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There weren't a lot of actual roads between Nacogdoches and San Antonio, but there were some. Jake figured Borders would take the easiest way and follow those roads so he did as well. When he came to a town or a settlement, he'd stop and ask everyone there if they'd seen a stranger on a black horse with four white feet traveling alone, or if anything unusual had happened in town lately.

He got the first information that he was on the right track at a farmhouse about thirty miles from Nacogdoches. The farmer said he'd seen a man on a black horse with four white feet ride down the road the day before. He hadn't thought much about it until the next morning. When his wife went to tend her chickens, she found two hens missing.

Jake figured that was Borders stocking up on meat. He could only carry what he could sling over his saddle horn or put in his saddle bags, so he wouldn't have been able to take a lot of food with him. Two chickens would last a man for a couple days and wouldn't take up a lot of room on a saddle.

Jake's next information he found in Crockett, and Jake knew some people in Crockett. Crockett had been the site of a training camp for conscripted Confederate soldiers and Jake had been one of those soldiers. He'd spent enough time in Crockett to know the owner of the general store and the livery stable since he'd been on several details sent for food or to get horse feed.

From the owner of the general store he learned that someone had broken a back window of the store sometime the night before, came inside, and took a hundred cartridges for a Henry rifle and a side of bacon.

That made sense to Jake if that someone was Borders. The cartridges would fit in a saddlebag, and Borders probably needed them if it was him that took Murphy's cowhand's horse and rifle. A cowhand wouldn't carry a lot of cartridges because he only had the rifle to take care of a predator or to put an injured cow or horse out of its misery. He wouldn't need many more than were already loaded in his rifle. The bacon just saved Borders the time it took to steal chickens.

On a hunch, Jake rode to the livery stable and talked to Hiram Meadows. Hiram did know of the man.

"Yep, rode up about nightfall last night and paid me to feed his horse. Must have left again sometime that night because when I come here at daylight to get started, his horse was gone. Nice horse too, all black with four white feet."

That information fit the pattern Borders seemed to have adopted. It appeared to Jake that Borders was probably stopping at dark, waiting and watching somewhere until an hour or so before daybreak, then going to get what he needed to keep traveling wherever he could find it. What that also meant was Borders had to be bedded down and sleeping during at least part of the daylight hours so he wasn't riding many miles each day. He couldn't very well ride very far during the night unless there was a full moon because he wouldn't be able to see.

That meant Jake could probably catch up to Borders. If Borders was doing what Jake suspected, he was probably able to travel for about eight hours a day, maybe thirty miles, thirty-five at best. Jake knew he was pushing his horses, but he was riding from daybreak until almost sunset so he was making about fifty miles a day and he'd been cutting across some of the bends in the road. Borders had had a one-day head start, but had apparently wasted that in stealing two chickens and robbing the general store. If anything, Jake was probably very close to where Borders was lying somewhere asleep.

From Crockett to Boonville Jake rode slowly and scanned both sides of the road for any indication of someplace where Borders might be holed up. He didn't find any towns, but he did find a couple ranches. At one of those ranches just outside of Boonville, he learned that a man who called himself Stephen Borden had asked if there was any work. The description the ranch owner gave Jake sounded a lot like Borders.

The ranch owner said the man had showed up the afternoon before on a black gelding with four white feet. The man had asked if there was any work and the ranch owner had told him there wasn't. The ranch owner said the man then frowned and said that he'd just ride on to the next ranch. That night, someone cut the barbed wire fence on the rancher's south pasture and it had taken his men all morning to find all the cattle, herd them back into the pasture, and then fix the fence. They also found one three-month old calf that had been half butchered and the rest left for the coyotes and buzzards.

Jake figured he had to be in about the same location as Borders but he didn't go looking for him. If Borders was still following his same pattern, he'd be riding down the road from Bastrop to San Marcos sometime the next day or the day after that.

Instead, Jake rode on toward Bastrop. He figured he was at least a day ahead of Borders now and maybe a day and a half. Jake set up his camp ten miles from Bastrop next to a stream and about a hundred feet off the road. About twenty feet from the road he found a fallen tree that would give him cover. Then, he sat down with his Spencer rifle to wait.

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Jake waited all that day and late enough he couldn't see the road, but saw no riders. It was the next morning about an hour after daylight that he saw a black horse with four white feet walking down the road. Jake couldn't see the rider's face, but the man was about the same size as Borders and wore the same bowler hat Borders usually wore.

Jake waited until the man was nearly abreast of his cover and then fired a shot from his rifle in the air. When the man stopped and looked in the direction of the shot Jake yelled, "Clyde Borders, get off that horse and don't do anything that might make me think you're going to shoot me or I'll shoot you out of that saddle."

The man didn't get off his horse. Instead, he yelled back, "Just who the hell are you? I ain't Clyde Borders and I ain't gitten' off'n this horse until I can see you."

Jake slowly rose from behind the fallen tree with his rifle pointed at Borders. He said, "I'm Jake Sullivan and you shot my brother Aaron. I aim to take you back to Nacog -- "

That was all Jake managed to say before Borders drew a Colt pistol and fired it at Jake. Jake felt something slam into the side of his head and he fell back behind the fallen tree. Through the pain in his head and the ringing in his ears, Jake heard two more shots and then the sound of a galloping horse. Then everything went black.

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When Jake woke up he felt someone doing something to his head. His first thought was that Borders was trying to finish what he'd started. Jake tried to get up to defend himself, but was pushed back down. It was then he heard the woman's voice.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll stay on your back until I get done with you. If you don't, you'll start bleeding again and I liked to have never got it stopped the first time. Once I get done, I'll help you stand up and we'll go to where you're camped. I need to eat something and I'll bet you do too. I hope you brought some food with you because I didn't."

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After Elizabeth helped Jake stand up and pick up his rifle, they walked to his camp. Jake had brought some bread and cheese for his noon meals and both were in Jenny's packsaddle.

"Bread and cheese will have to do unless you want to start a fire. They're in one of the panniers on the pack saddle."

The woman smiled.

"I don't need to start a fire. What I need is to get some food in me and then get started after Borders again."

Jake needed to know some things first.

"Who are you and why are you here."

The woman frowned.

"I'm Elizabeth Ronsen, and I'm here because I'm going to kill Clyde Borders. I'd have done it if you hadn't stood up and made him move. Who are you and why are you here?"

Jake smiled.

"I'm Jake Sullivan, from a ranch near Nacogdoches, and I'm tracking the same man so I can take borders back to Nacogdoches where he'll stand trial for killing my brother. How do you know Borders? What'd he do to you? Must have been something pretty bad if it makes you want him dead."

Elizabeth's voice got louder and a lot angrier.

"He told my mother his name and he didn't do anything to me except for burning down the house where I lived."

Jake shook his head.

"That's enough to make you want him in jail, but not enough for you to want him dead."

Elizabeth sat her plate on the ground and then looked at Jake.

"My mother, my father, little brother, and I were in that house when it burned. We got out, but they still got burned a little. If I hadn't woken up, we'd all be dead now. Is that enough for you?"

Jake needed more information.

"Where was this and how do you know it was Borders that burned your house?"

Elizabeth sounded even angrier.

"Our ranch is about five miles from here. Borders rode up yesterday afternoon on a black horse with four white feet and asked my mother if she could spare any food. My mother had no idea who he was, so she said she couldn't. Borders said that wasn't something he'd expect from a Christian woman and that she'd probably be sorry when she got to Heaven.