Chapter 9 - How the Claim Jumper was Stopped by Vegetable Stew
In spite of occasional problems with bank robbers, cattle rustlers, gunfighters, range wars and the Ladies Aid, the truth is that Broken Jaw Junction was really a mining town. More than 4,000 gold seekers were camped out all along the creek where Old Jake first found gold, and on up into the hills. They were an ornery bunch, and would sometimes fight and squabble and call each other names and throw things at each other.
But in spite of all their problems, they mostly got along pretty well—mainly because the mayor and town council in a moment of greed had finally realized that they could annex the entire mining area into the town (so they could force all the minors to pay them a bogus ‘mining tax’ every month). So if any minors got to fighting too much, or causing trouble, someone would just send for Sheriff Mitch, since the gold fields were now in his jurisdiction. It wasn't just that they were afraid of being shot with an itch bullet, or spending a night in jail--they were more afraid that if they went to jail, Mitch would force them to eat lettuce or carrot sticks and there wasn't a single one of them that could stomach the thought of that.
But then one day the claim jumper came to town.
He was a big, burly fellow, who liked to wear a thick, bearskin coat even in the heat of the Nevada desert. His scraggly beard looked like it came from the same bear as his coat, and his eyebrows were so bushy he could hardly see under them. But what people noticed first and remembered most about the claim jumper were his dogs.
He had three of them, and to say they were big would be a terrible understatement. They were like mountains of fur and fangs and teeth, and they were mean. They'd as soon bite your hand off as look at you, and all the claim jumper had to do to make them do whatever he wanted was to click some secret command at them with his teeth. Then they would growl and bare their fangs and get ready to attack.
It didn't take long after the claim jumper came to town for him to put his dogs to good use. He first spent a few hours looking over the gold claims in the creek, then picked the best three that were next to each other and took them over. He didn't say a word, but just walked up, clicked to his dogs and made himself comfortable in one of the miner's camp chairs.
Within five minutes, all three miners who had lost their claims were in Mitch's office.
"Sheriff, ya gotta do something!" yelled Mortimer Sludge, "That big galloot and his no-good dogs took over the claim I've been workin' and slavin' over for the last year!"
"Mine too!" wailed Murp Slork. "Them dogs run me off so fast I had to leave my pan o' gold behind—and it probably had fifty dollars worth of gold dust in it!"
"Them mangy mutts ate up all my food too!" whined the third miner, Mick Clunker. "They gobbled up all my pork rinds and beef jerky and everything! That's almost as bad as takin' over my gold!"
"Well," said Mitch calmly, "it sounds like we need to pay this fellow a visit."
"Did you say 'we?'" asked Cousin Elias with a crack in his voice. "When he's got three killer dogs the size of mountains?!"
"And you oughta see their teeth!" said Mortimer with a grin.
Elias' face went white as a sheet. "Count me out!" he said turning to his saddlebags. "Looks like it's time for me to start packing again."
With a sigh, Mitch said, "Now, Elias, they're just dogs. I'm sure this fellow will control them and be reasonable when he sees we're the law."
"Reasonable!" yelped Murp. "I doubt it. He took my claim!"
"And all my food!" said Mick.
"But boys!" said Mortimer with a gleam in his eye. "Don't forget--everybody's reasonable when they look down the barrel of the sheriff's gun!"
Elias stopped packing and looked up. A slow smile started to spread over his face. "That's right. Those itch pellets should work on dogs as well as people." Hitching up his pants with a twinkle in his eye, he said, "I think I'll go with you after all, cousin."
"Well, o.k.," said Mitch. "Let's go!"
When Mitch, Elias and the miners drew near the stolen claims, the dogs starting barking so loud even folks in Soda Jerk Springs ten miles away could have heard them. With a smirk on his face, the claim jumper got off his stool (or rather, Murp Sklork's stool) and clicked at his dogs to stop barking for a minute.
"Good morning," said Mitch politely. "It appears you have taken over some mining claims that belong to these gentlemen. As an officer of the law, I am here to make sure you give the claims back to them immediately."
The claim jumper didn't say a word. He just stared at Mitch with a bored look in his eye, while slowly chewing on one of Mick's pork rinds. His scraggly beard would slowly wag up and down with every chew.
"Sir," Mitch said again in a kindly tone. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave. You see, this property does not belong to you."
The claim jumper spat and scratched his bushy eyebrows, then clicked to his dogs. Immediately they bared their massive fangs and growled, then took several menacing steps forward. In a flash, Mitch's gun was in his hand, the trigger cocked, ready to fire if they came any closer.
At this moment, as if out of nowhere, Mrs. Glertch of the Ladies Aid appeared, accompanied by Mrs. Spuf and Miss Drudge. With a screech so loud that the dogs stopped growling in surprise, Mrs. Glertch cried, "Sheriff, don't you dare lay a hand on those poor defenseless animals!!"
"Defenseless?!" said Mortimer incredulously.
Mrs. Glertch gave Mortimer a glare that would have melted granite. "Of course they're defenseless, you idiot!" she bellowed. "They're just dumb animals who are defenseless like all women and children."
"I can think of one woman who isn't," murmured Cousin Elias quietly.
"Mrs. Glertch," said Mitch reasonably, "I am just wielding my firearm in self defense. I assure you that I will not cause permanent injury to the dogs."
"Put you gun away!" thundered Mrs. Glertch. "The Ladies Aid is committed to the prevention of cruelty to animals, and if you fire one shot of your itch powder at one of those dogs, so help me, I'll make sure you lose your badge!"
"But Mrs. Glertch," said Mitch calmly, "self defense is always a valid claim, especially for an officer of the law. It says so in my sheriff's manual."
"Then I suggest you look in your manual again," commanded Mrs. Glertch. "I think you'll find there is an exception in the case of animals. You cannot use self defense against them!" She smiled coldly. "I know because my aunt Petunia Muck is the person who wrote your sheriff's manual--and she is a member of the Rhode Island Ladies Aid!"
"Golly," said Mitch in surprise while lowering his gun. "It does say on the first page that Petunia Muck wrote it. I guess maybe I'd better go back and take a look at it again."
"A very sensible idea," agreed Mrs. Glertch.
"But Sheriff," cried Mortimer, "That’s crazy!"
"Yeah!" said Mick. "If that were true, I couldn't use self defense to protect me from a grizzly bear that was about to eat me, or a rattler that was about to bite me with poison!"
"What do you mean, you lout?!" screeched Mrs. Glertch. "The rule only applies to pets, like cats and dogs. And these dogs are obviously the pets of this man here," she said pointing to the smiling claim jumper who still hadn't said a word.
"And such cute little cudly things too," weedled Miss Drudge. At this, the claim jumper clicked his teeth three times and to the amazement of everyone his brutish mongrels transformed themselves into simpering, puppyish playdogs that came up and happily licked the hands of all the ladies.
"There, you see, sheriff?" said Mrs. Glertch triumphantly. "You can see that these dogs are innocent, harmless creatures--and you were about to inflict bodily pain upon them!"
“For shame!" said Mrs. Spuf and Miss Drudge, glowering at him and the miners.
"Hmmm..." murmured Mitch. "Well I guess I'd better go back to the office and look in my sheriff's manual again. But I assure you sir," he said sternly to the claim jumper,
"that I will still enforce the law and make sure these gentlemen get their claims back."
"But you'll do it without harming these lovable, innocent beasts," warned Mrs. Glertch.
"Of course, if that's what the sheriff's manual says," replied Mitch. And with that he headed back to the sheriff's office, with the miners following gloomily behind him.
"Well, how about that?" said Mitch as he stared at the pages of his sheriff's manual. "Mrs. Glertch was right! It really does say that, in order to prevent cruelty to animals, an officer of the law cannot harm a pet even in self defense, even if that means he gets mangled or scratched or bitten!"
"Let me see that!" cried Cousin Elias, grabbing the book from Mitch. He looked at it for a moment, then shoved it back across the desk at Mitch in disgust. "That makes no sense! This manual’s all wrong!”
"Actually, it's quite a good manual," said Mitch. "The laws are accurate and it has some very helpful information. I’ll admit this rule about not using self defense against pets is probably a bit extreme based on the author's personal feelings, but I'm afraid I'm bound to uphold it. When I was hired the mayor and town council said I had to follow what's in the manual. I can only enforce the law, not make up new laws."
"There goes my mining claim then," moaned Mortimer. "There's no chance of getting it back with those dogs there."
"And I won't get my food back either," wailed Mick. "And I'm gettin' hungry!"
"Now hold on," said Mitch. "I'm bound to uphold the law in this town, and I'm going to get those claims back for you or die trying!"
"Sorry I won't be here to attend your funeral, cousin," said Cousin Elias as he started to pack again. "I'd send some flowers to decorate your grave, but they'd just wilt in 10 minutes in the Nevada sun."
Mitch shook his head sadly. "Now, Elias, I'm sure we'll find a way to get the claims back."
"There you go using 'we' again," replied Cousin Elias as he stuffed some dirty underwear in his saddlebags. "I'll be back in West Virginia when they're putting you six feet under at Boot Hill."
"Is that any way to talk to your blood kin?" said Mortimer hotly. "Are you just going to run out on him and let him face those dogs alone?"
"Yeah!" cried Mick. "What kind of deputy are you?"
"A live one!" replied Cousin Elias. Then he turned to face the three miners who were all glaring at him. "You know, I've been workin' with you gold miners here in Broken Jaw Junction now for about nine months, and based on what I've seen I'll make you a little wager. If you three will agree to be deputized right here and now and go out with cousin Mitch and help him face those dogs then I'll stay and help you do it."
Mick suddenly went into a spasm of coughing, while Mortimer looked intently at the floor, and Murp started to fidget with his hat. Finally Mortimer mumbled in a voice that could barely be heard, "uh ... well ... you know, I've been planning this trip to meet my mother in Cincinnati for a long time, and I just don't think now's a good time ... "
"And actually now that I remember it," muttered Murp, "I'm allergic to dogs (he faked a sneeze or two), and it wouldn't be healthy for me to get close to those mutts."
"Shucks, I'm not really that hungry after all," said Mick. "I can always go out in the desert and dig up sego lily roots and eat 'em."
"I thought so," snorted Cousin Elias in disgust as he shoved the last of his shirts in his saddlebags. Then swinging them onto his shoulder, he turned to Mitch. "Well, cousin, I wish you the best and like I said, I’m sorry I won't be here for the funeral." Then without another word he swept from the office and was gone.
For a moment the three miners stood awkwardly in the middle of Mitch's office. Then Mortimer coughed and said he had to go confirm his stage ticket to visit his mother. Murp said he had to see the doctor about his allergy, and Mick said he needed to go dig up some sego lily roots for dinner. Then the three left Mitch's office quicker than a cat sliding down a greased pole, and Mitch was left alone to figure out how to solve their problem.
The light in Mitch's office was on late into the night after the three miners left. Some people said it was because he was trying to sew together a thick enough suit of clothes so the dogs couldn't bite through it, while others said he was writing out a detailed watering and weeding schedule for his garden, to give to Mrs. Gates before he was laid in Boot Hill. But they were all wrong ...
Early the next morning the townspeople saw Mitch riding out of town in the direction of Bomont's ranch. The news spread like wildfire that he was leaving town to save his skin, like his Cousin Elias. When the claim jumper heard this rumor he grew even bolder, and within an hour of Mitch leaving town he took over five more mining claims. The five miners who lost their claims were madder than wet hornets and stormed into town to hunt down the mayor and as many of the town councilmen as they could find. The unhappy mayor and city council members were forced to listen to the miners for hours, as they complained about how the town needed to get a sheriff who would do his job and protect their property, rather than ride off into the country when he was most needed.
When Mitch rode back into town in the early afternoon he found an angry crowd of miners, town council members and townspeople swarming around his office. After listening to the complaining miners all morning, the mayor and councilmen were madder than wet hornets themselves, and wanted to let Mitch know it. They were so busy being hot and bothered they didn't even notice the package tied behind his saddle.
"Sheriff!" said the mayor angrily, "these miners tell me they came looking for you to help get their property back from the claim jumper and you weren't even around! And these other three miners tell me they lost their property to this thief yesterday, and you didn't do a thing about it!"
"Why don't you do your job instead of riding off into the country?" shouted a miner. He was followed by a dozen others yelling, "Yeah!" or "Do your job!"
Mitch just smiled calmly while he swung down from his saddle and started to untie the package. "Now, gentlemen, I understand your concerns. But if you'll just be patient, I--"
"Patient?!" interrupted another miner shrilly. "You want us to be patient while you go joy riding off in the country and we're losing money?!" There were a lot more shouts of "Yeah!" and "Right on!"
Gently pushing his way through the crowd towards his door, Mitch said, "I understand why you're upset and I don't blame you. If you'll just give me a little time though, I think I can--"
"TIME?!" shouted a dozen voices at once. There was a lot of shouting and shoving and Mitch probably would have been trampled if he hadn't quickly drawn his gun and fired a shot in the air.
There was sudden deathly quiet, and the crowd drew back several feet from Mitch (all but the mayor and town council members who were running to their homes as fast as they could go). The miners were all very embarrassed to have forgotten who they were threatening—and what he could do with a gun!
"Now, gentlemen, please," said Mitch in a kindly tone. "I know you're upset, but I am working on it, and hope to have something positive to report to you very soon."
With this he disappeared into his office, leaving the mob to grumble quietly for awhile and then slowly fade away.
Cousin Elias was plodding along the road from Broken Jaw Junction to Soda Jerk Springs in the hot afternoon sun. He was thinking of his home in West Virginia, and how he would soon be there. He smiled at the thought of seeing the old cabin again, and his Ma and Pa, and Nellie his little sister. He remembered how she and her dog Pooch used to run all over the countryside, chasing squirrels, jumping in rivers, trouncing through Mitch's garden—
Sudden realization struck Cousin Elias like a bolt of lightning. He smacked his head with his hand and said, "what in tarnation am I thinkin'?" A smile spread across his face and suddenly he turned his horse around and galloped back in the direction of Broken Jaw Junction as fast as he could go.
About dinnertime that evening, the townspeople saw Mitch come out of his office ca
rrying several bundles which he tied to his horse. He then headed in the direction of the mining claims, with a group of curious children and dogs following after him.
When he got up into the claims he kept going until he reached a ridge near where the claim jumper and his dogs were lounging. He noticed that Mrs. Glertch and Miss Drudge of the Ladies Aid were acting as lookouts at the top of the next hill, to make sure no one harmed the claim jumper's dogs. Interestingly, many of the miners had camped out on an opposite hill and would occasionally shout insults at the Ladies Aid women, who would then shout back. The claim jumper's dogs were howling as well, and the noise from all the yelling and howling was so bad that even the rocks tried to cover their ears.
Mitch paid no attention to the noise, however. Instead, he made a little fire in a circle of rocks then slowly and carefully began to pull things out of the bundles he had brought. First he set up a tripod over the fire, then dangled a big pot from it so that it hung low into the flames. He poured some water into the pot, then pulled out a large steak that he had gotten earlier from Bomont's ranch, followed by a number of vegetables and spices from other containers. Lastly, he pulled out some mountain herbs he had gathered on his ride to Bomont's ranch. He carefully sliced the meat and vegetables into the pot and measured in the herbs and spices. Stirring slowly, it wasn’t long until he had a delicious smelling brew simmering in the pot.
The dogs and children that had followed Mitch out from town smelled it first. The kids licked their lips and rolled their eyes at the delicious smell--but the dogs went absolutely wild. They started to yip and yap and chase their tails and run into things, and then they all went charging straight to Mitch's cookfire where he just smiled and started to pet them all, but kept them away from the simmering pot.
The tantalizing smell of Mitch's brew wafted slowly and gently through the hills and along the creek. Every person or dog that smelled it almost dropped in their tracks. It smelled like everything good they had ever tasted and everything happy they had ever thought, all rolled into one. Even the women from the Ladies Aid were so stricken that they abandoned their post and joined the growing throng surrounding Mitch's campfire.
And then there was a howl so loud it must have woken every person laid to rest in Boot Hill. The claim jumper's dogs had just caught the scent and they set off such a racket and went into such a frenzy that no amount of clicking or yelling by the claim jumper could stop them from charging up the hill to Mitch's fire.
As soon as they arrived the crowd scattered. Even the exquisite smell of Mitch's stew couldn't overcome their fear of the three massive dogs that were now bouncing all over Mitch, licking him and yelping like he was a long lost friend. Mitch laughed and patted each dog on the head, then scooped some of his stew into bowls for them, which they greedily devoured.
The claim jumper came running up the hill, huffing and puffing. He was clicking his teeth like crazy trying to get his dogs to obey him, but they completely ignored him. They finished their stew in no time flat, then started jumping around Mitch and yipping and yapping like puppies, begging for more. Mitch scooped out some more stew in each of their bowls and then they dug in again, oblivious to the world. The crowd of dogs and people kept a safe distance away and watched jealously while the three huge dogs devoured the stew.
The claim jumper was clicking his teeth so much he sounded like a woodpecker. But the dogs paid no attention to him. Then he started to slap and hit the nearest dog, which wasn’t a very smart thing to do. The dog turned on him with a snarl and nearly took his hand off before it turned back to its bowl.
"Drat you sheriff!" wheezed the claim jumper. "What have you done to my dogs?"
"Nothing," replied Mitch amiably. "I just gave them a little stew."
"Well, stop giving it to 'em!" yelled the claim jumper.
"Well, they're your dogs," said Mitch with a smile. "Why don't you make them stop eating?"
"Consarn it, I can't!" growled the claim jumper. "Your stew's done got 'em under some kind 'o spell."
"There's no spell," said Mitch. "It's just vegetable and beef stew. I guess they like it. Do you want some?"
"Me?" yelled the claim jumper. "Are you crazy?! For all I know you poisoned it!"
At this Mrs. Glertch and Miss Drudge jumped forward and were about to say something, but Mitch just laughed and said, "Don’t worry, I didn’t poison the dogs. That would be cruelty to animals! You can watch them all night and see--they'll be just fine."
By this time the dogs had finished their bowls and were licking their lips contentedly. They each whined happily and one of them even lay down and looked like he was about to go to sleep.
The claim jumper stared at them for a moment, then mumbled something under his breath that (fortunately) no one heard. “Well,” he said grumpily, “it looks like maybe the spell’s worn off. We’ll be going now.” Then he clicked his teeth to his dogs and turned to go.
The dogs didn't move. The one who had fallen asleep was starting to snore happily, and the other two looked like they would join him soon.
In mounting anger the claim jumper turned to the dogs and clicked at them again and again. They still didn't move.
"You know," said Mitch looking into his stew pot, "these dogs ate an awful lot of stew. Almost looks like maybe they weren't being fed enough." With a meaningful glance at Mrs. Glertch, Mitch said, "That could be a sign of cruelty to animals."
Mrs. Glertch scowled so fiercely at the claim jumper that he turned red. "Now, look here," he stammered, "I feed these dogs good, honest! I'm not cruel to 'em."
"They looked awful skinny to me earlier," said Mrs. Glertch sternly. "That is, before they had some of the sheriff's stew." (The dogs looked rather plump at the moment). “Maybe they were acting a little unfriendly towards people because they were hungry!”
The claim jumper looked nervously at Mrs. Glertch and Miss Drudge. Then his scraggly brows knotted and he said angrily, "these are my dogs and nobody is gonna tell me how to treat 'em!" Then he clicked in a commanding tone to his dogs (who still didn't move) and again turned to go.
Mrs. Glertch looked like she was about to explode. But before she could say anything, Mitch drawled in a soft voice, "are you sure these are your dogs? They don't seem to be paying any attention to you."
"Of course they're my dogs!" screamed the claim jumper. "And they're coming with me NOW!" Before anyone could stop him, the claim jumper grabbed a stick that was lying nearby and gave one of his dogs a smack on the head (which was probably the biggest mistake he ever made in his life). Instantly the dog sprang on him and would have torn him limb from limb if Mitch hadn't whistled and banged on his stew pot. At the sound of the pot, the dog immediately left the claim jumper and went over to lick Mitch's hand.
There was silence for a moment while the claim jumper struggled to his feet.
"Shall I tell your dogs to come to you?" asked Mitch calmly.
A panicked look came into the claim jumper's eyes. "No!" he cried. "Keep them! Do what you want with them! Just keep the mongrols away from me!" He then turned and stumbled over the hill and was never seen in Broken Jaw Junction again.
There was a cheer from the crowd (especially from the miners who had just regained their claims), followed by a mad rush of people and dogs who wanted some of Mitch's stew, now that the claim jumper's dogs had eaten their fill. And first in line was Cousin Elias who had showed up right before the claim jumper came charging up the hill after his dogs. Since Mitch was so tight lipped, naturally everyone asked Cousin Elias a lot of questions which he (naturally) pretended he didn't want to answer even though there was nothing he wanted more.
"Well," he drawled finally, still trying to drag things out as long as he could, "I was on the road to Soda Jerk Springs when I remembered my little sister's dog Pooch, and how it made the mistake of trampling through Mitch's garden back in West Virginia. After that Mitch stirred up a vegetable and beef stew to
end all stews--like this one--and hooked that dog so bad on it that it would stay out of his garden ever after, and would do anything he asked if he just tapped on his stew pot." And with this, Cousin Elias dug into Mitch's stew as ravenously as Mitch's new dogs had.
And that is how Sheriff Mitch got rid of the claim jumper and gained three new pet dogs (which were very afterward in helping him keep the peace in town) with a pot of vegetable and beef stew.