© Colin P. Cobb
… every out of work cowboy, miner, and railroader in southern New Mexico and western Texas joined in the race to claim the $5,000 reward. Even the more enterprising Soiled Doves went out many miles and set up rest camps in tents to save the hunters the long trip back to Richland every time they wanted a drink, a card game, or a woman. Within thirty-six hours of the robbery there must have been over 400 people, half Army and half civilian, roaming around the desert west of Richland.
They spent nearly a week out there, bumbling around the desert, drinking and gambling and whoring and doing whatever it is that such fools do. Then, finally, six days after the payroll theft, several things happened to end the foolishness. First, Colonel DeMonde was killed in a fall from his horse. His replacement immediately returned all of the Army troops to barracks. Second, there were at least four separate shootings in the desert when various bands of searchers mistook one another for the band of robbers. No one was killed but it was obvious, even to those fools, that it was only a matter of time. Third, the Soiled Doves decided that they had separated the searchers from their money and they all packed up their whiskey and their feather beds and returned to town.
So that was the situation one week after the train robbery when Sheriff Noah Greene came to see me. Sheriff Greene was then being criticized, in the newspaper and barbershop, for not having participated in the grand hunt for the train robbers. He had seven deputies in those days, two stayed always in Guzman, two served always as jailers, and the remaining three did everything else. The rate of pay for a deputy then was twelve dollars a month and the County replaced any bullets that the deputies used in the line of duty.
“Senor Valdez,” Greene said, “I would like you to become my deputy.”
“Thank you for having thought of me,” I answered, “but already I have two good jobs, I do not need another.”
“I would like you to be my deputy for just a short period of time,” he said.
“I am most sorry,” I said, “but such a position has no appeal for me.”
“I will pay you one hundred dollars,” he said.
“For how long a job?” I asked.
“One week or one month, it does not matter. Whatever you think is needed. It is for you alone to decide.”
That piqued my interest. Nine month's wages for one week's work? Whose interest would not be piqued! “What would be my duties while I was your deputy?” I asked.
“The county council has become most annoying to me. They say that I have failed to vigorously pursue the Santa Fe robbers. In fact, they say that I have failed to pursue them at all. They say that the robbers may be lurking in the Sangre de Cristos mountains waiting to rob and pillage Richland. Normally I would regard this as the cackling of old women…ignore it and eventually the noise will stop. But now, because of the elections to come, I desire that the talk be silenced.”
“And?” I said.
“And, if I send my deputies now to look for the robbers, they will find nothing and I will look a proper fool. If, however, Cypriano Valdez, who is known to be the best man-tracker in the southwest, takes to the field, searches, and finds nothing it will be accepted that there is nothing to find.”
* * * * *
Well, Sheriff Noah Greene was a good enough man and one hundred dollars was a good enough sum.
The next day I was sworn in as a deputy, received my badge, and set out in search of the great train robbers….
(Mantracker excerpt ends)