Big Sky Country, Roundup, Montana

CHAPTER 1

Big Sky Country, Roundup Montana

My name is Dr. Earl Shanks. I was born here in Roundup Montana in 1942. My Mom and dad were 3rd generation cattle ranchers and I was born on the ranch. I was the younger of 2 boys and when we were young, too young by today’s standards, we were expected to help out, first with the chores, and as we got a little older, 8-10 we were expected to ride with the others and basically do a man’s job. By age 12 both of us, me and my older brother Tom were fairly competent cowboys.

My brother loved the ranch and all that went with it. He wouldn’t pay any attention in school though because he couldn’t see what it had to do with ranching.

My dad told him that he absolutely must take shop classes where he could learn to weld and fix trucks and make repairs to the ever increasing motorized equipment needed on the ranch. And keep in mind he would say, ranching is not all horses and cows. A hell of a lot of it is bookkeeping. It also includes irrigating and mowing hay and baling it, although we never got that far, most of the hay we gathered was loose stacked in barns with a derrick and Jackson Fork.

We had a fairly good shop at the ranch where we maintained the John Deere’s, the Farmall’s, and the Allis Chalmers tractors and other harvesting equipment. The neighboring ranch had an old combine and when it broke down we took it to our shop to fix it. Usually several of the ranchers would get together and harvest the grain on each other’s places. It was a group effort, neighbors working together.

Any boy in those days, going to high school in the 50’s, he wanted a hot rod. My brother had his 1937 Ford coupe in the shop most of the time working on it instead of driving it.

Not me. I wanted to drive my 49 Mercury sedan so I bought it in good shape already. A lot of the kids wanted the neater looking coupe but not me. My sedan had a large back seat. To get the money I sold a bunch of cows with my brand on them. Oh yes, my dad said I might have doctored the brand a bit and stole some of his cows but he didn’t care because I was a top student. I loved high school with special emphasis on math and science. I figured that as long as I was studying and brought home good grades I could get away with pretty much everything except murder. In some cases even that might be ok.

And while my brother was a layin under his car, trying to figure out how to install juice brakes on it instead of the cable brakes it came out with, I was over in the park seein if I could talk little Georgia May into takin off her bra which contained a particularly lovely set of twins. Which was the better enterprise? You guess. Oh how much I enjoyed that and all because I had a working 49 Merc.

Working on the ranch as a regular hand I gained a reputation as a good cowboy. I was especially handy with a rope but as I got a little older my interests took me away from ranching and chasing down hairy bawlin beasts in the middle of winter or in the heat of the summer. Everybody knew my days on the ranch were numbered and that after school I would be getting a professional education of some kind or other.

I graduated at the top of my class in 1959 and I had some scholarships, some family support and combined with money that I had saved I put myself through college and then dental school.

In November 1967, I was in the Army by then, I had decided to offer my services as a dentist rather than take my chances with the draft, no tellin what they’d a had me doin, so in 1968 I went to Vietnam. I practiced in the Battalion dental clinic by day and by night I played poker.

It wasn’t long before I realized that no one really had much of a chance in a poker game with me, and anyone who did present a problem, well, we just didn’t play each other. Army officers like to play poker but they are no challenge for non coms. Those guys really know their poker but perhaps lucky for me, officers were not allowed to gamble with enlisted men. But I learned a hellava lot watchin them play.

The only thing I have to say about Vietnam is that a lot of the men I doctored are all dead now. What a hell of a shame. All that good dentistry for nothing.

While I was in Viet Nam I met a lovely young woman, a trauma nurse who I couldn’t keep my eyes or hands off of and we got married. Her name was Helen Mason and she was also a Montana girl from over in Helena.

The problem with having a wife in the military, at least in them days, they coulda cared less that the married couple wanted to be stationed together. If we’da wanted you to have a wife we’da issued you one. It just wasn’t gonna work out, she left Vietnam 2 months ahead of me and when I did get reassigned I was stationed in Sacramento and she was assigned to Walter Reed in D.C. I still had 3 years on my hitch and she had 4. We couldn’t get together and when we did all we did was argue.

Was I always faithful? Out of principal, I wouldn’t discuss it with her and because of that, she didn’t think so. I can say this, I never loved another woman in all those years and after I was notified that she had gotten an annulment it broke me up pretty bad. To tell you the truth, even though I haven’t seen her very often, last time about 20 years ago, I still love her. But I am still pissed. And because of her I have pissed my life away, doing nothing worthwhile. She never gave us a chance saying I was cattin around on her. What the hell do you expect me to do? she asked. What the hell do you expect of me I said, I’m only 26 years old, in good shape, and I have to live! Shit! That’s how we argued.

She said that if I can’t look her strait in the eye and say that I have never had another woman in my bed, if you can’t say that, I’m done! I didn’t say it and out the door she went but not before she threw one of those heavy square glass ashtrays at me cutting my side open wide enough that I had to stitch myself up with 17 damn stitches. And believe me stitchin yerself up is a bitch even with novacain.

Son of a bitch! She’s a crazy woman. But I still love her and I would give anything to see her and to love her and hold her and make mad passionate love to her. But that’s not gonna happen. Yes, I am a cynical atheistic, son of a bitch. Can you imagine a loving God putting up with all this shit?

But I like people, and I would do anything to help out but if someone is trying to screw me over, I got no problem doin him some real damage. I’d do anything except knock out his teeth, though that is only in principle. I have never even gotten into a fight before. But I would if I needed to.

My brother Tom, he would fight at the drop of a hat and he’d drop his own hat if he had to. Well, he stayed on the ranch and after my folks died he didn’t do so good managing money so since the place was free and clear he just sort of quit. He didn’t understand the ranch finances and he didn’t want to put a lien on the place so he just sat out there huntin and fishing and takin life easy. Probably a smart decision on his part. In 1999 at age 59 he took his death of pneumonia and died. At that time I found out that both him and I had emphesema.

It killed him but I got help and even now, though at times I have to check into the hospital, most of the time I’m ok. I can thank my very best friend for my good health. Her name is Dr. Anne Townsend, PHD. I live with her in her apartment and she makes me eat with her every night at 7P.M. and it’s always something good for me. She watches me take my Pills and when I am with her I have a sweet warm feeling. I love her as my daughter and since I am all alone in this world I think she is what keeps me going. I just like being around her.

I guess I am still a rancher at heart. I still have the family place, which I rent out to a nice family. They have raised 3 boys and 3 girls on that place and that makes them special to me. If they ever got in trouble they could depend on me to help in any way possible. Hell, I could still throw a pretty long loop, ya know and I’ve got more money than I can count.

A few years after I retired from dentistry I took some of my winnings, I have been extremely lucky at cards, and I bought two adjoining ranches, approximately 80,000 acres of a variety of topographies and landscape types. You know, at my age and lifestyle it seemed silly to do something like that but what the hell. It’s my damn money and I’ll do what I want to with it. I don’t know, maybe me and Annie can do something with it someday.

Perhaps I shouldn’t say this but one time I tricked her at cards and as a result she won the lower place, 35,000 acres. Some trick eh? My remaining 45,000 acres is landlocked by her place and I’m hoping that something will happen that her and me can go a ranchin together. Who knows, maybe stranger things have happened. As it is she doesn’t seem too interested in the ranch. She’s owned it for 10 years but far as I know she has never even seen it.

I don’t know what it is exactly but I heard she’s got a fairly responsible job at American Airlines here in Dallas. It keeps her pretty busy. I’ve got a strangle hold on her though because she won’t sell the place unless I sell mine. And I won’t sell it. I want to give it to her with some strings but she won’t take it. Says it’s not right accepting such a large gift. I told her, Hell’s fire woman, if I don’t give it to you who in holy hell am I goin to give it to? She says she’ll buy it at a fair price. Hell, there aint no way she could afford to pay several million bucks but I aint gonna tell her that.

What If I did sell it to her, she could put them both together and sell the whole thing, then where would my scheme to go ranchin with her be? As it is right now she leases hers to a guy I’ve known most of his and my life. He’s a neer-do-well name of Richard (Little Dick) Hendrickson. I’ve heard that he hasn’t paid his lease payments for two years and it is said that he has his cows on my place more than on Annie’s place. Typical. He has that kind of reputation.

CHAPTER 2

Montana, The Treasure State

The discovery that there might be gold on the Shanks place began about 2 years ago early spring 2010. It was discovered one day when Mr. Hendrickson was preparing to truck his cattle up to the Townsend Ranch which he leased. But he had a habit of crossing over onto the neighboring Shanks ranch which he did not lease. He had a habit of letting his cows spend a lot more time at the Shanks place than he did at the Townsend’s ranch. On this particular day he was scouting for summer water there when he ran across a spring that ran for a quarter mile and then disappeared back into the ground through river rock that when moved seemed to reveal spaces between so that you could hear the sound of a stream running close beneath the surface.

At first he thought, yeah, so what, there are spring time springs all over here in this pile of rocks that seem to run for a couple miles. But what’s going to happen later in the year when this one dries up, I’ve been here in July and never saw a drop of water.

He got off his horse and tied him to a bush and he spent a half hour scouring the area picking up stones and listening for the sound of water. As he tired of his rock pickin he sat back looking down the green valley thinking if he could solve the summer water problem up here he might be able to run a few hundred head here for a few weeks. Maybe if I found a good sized pool of water near the surface I could drain or siphon some of it off into a ketch basin, like right over there. Might work.

Little Dick Hendrickson had a reputation of making money where there wasn’t any money to make. But he was always looking for an advantage and the Shanks ranch where he ran his cattle most of the summer allowed him to make hay on the Townsend Ranch. So instead of grazing all the grass down there he could bale and sell it and wind up making twice as much as he did just fattening cattle. The Shanks ranch had never been leased to anybody and the old man didn’t seem interested enough to even wonder what was going on up here since the Townsend woman took over her place. If he catches me I could always say, Hell Earl, I didn’t know this was your place, sorry man.

So for the last few years he was thinking that he had made this lease deal really work for him and not a word from Shanks. Why look a gift horse in the mouth?

I know Earl Shanks, He had graduated the same year I started high school. Earl is about 70 and I’m 65 years old. People like him perty good and in fact after he came back from Vietnam he started his dental practice and I have even sat in his chair several times until he couldn’t really practice any-more because of his incessant coughing. After that the Doctor had run a poker game for a few years over in Billings and then he moved on down to greener pastures somewhere in Texas.

Now in effect, Little Dick said, I am stealing from him, big-time. But I aint hurtin nuthin. If I didn’t graze my cattle up there on the Shanks place the grass would just go to waste. As it is now I bale up the hay on the Townsend ranch and sell it in town at a huge profit. A couple more years like the last two and I can dig myself outa this hole, long as Earl doesn’t find out but so far no complaints and he couldn’t see what would change it. It was too good a deal to quit now.

As he sat there looking down the green valley thinking about how to get water for his cows, he picked up a stone and just as he was getting ready to peg it he saw a glint of sunlight reflecting off the side of it. He was in the act of throwing and damn near lost control almost throwing it away. He recovered and quickly pulled it up to his eye. It was gold, large and soft. His excitement was nearly uncontrollable. He spun around furtively to see if anyone was looking. Hell no, there’s nobody within 30 miles of here.

He put it in his pocket and began looking again in the same area, hoping to find another nugget.

He spent another hour moving rock all over the place, closely inspecting each one hoping for that beautiful soft yellow color embedded in the rock. He moved a large rock aside to see what was under it and suddenly he could see a larger opening right under the rock. He could hear a lot of water running and what appeared to be a small cavern about 10 feet below.

He was excited but couldn’t see much so he went to where his horse was tied and opened his saddle bag and pulled out a large flashlight. Now maybe I can see what in hell is going on down there.

As he moved toward the opening some of the rocks seemed to shift downward slightly and he fell backward in panic thinking, Shit! I damn near fell in! His heart was close to pounding out of his chest and for a few minutes he felt like he might disappear into a hole in the ground right under his feet. He finally realized he was o.k., at least where he was. I’m too old for this shit man, but he also knew this could be a big deal if he could find a damn gold mine up here. But for a project like this I’m going to need some help.

Richard Hendrickson felt like his whole life was one sad ass mess, from his mom running off with a salesman when he was only 12 years old, and his dad moving in with a whore of a bitch leaving him and his sister to fetch for them-selves. His sister was only 14 years old and it seemed like it was only a year or two later before she took off with that useless son of a bitchin hi-way patrolman Homer Osbert. That left him completely by himself in that rundown shack his dad had left when he began shacking up with that red-headed hair saloon operator. Yes, I know it’s a salon, but that’s the way the Little Dick talks.

But that was 45 years ago. He tried to finish high school but the taunting and hazing never ended, every-one calling him Little Dick. So when he was a sophomore he took off and for a few years he worked on ranches here and there until when he was 22 he finally got a fairly good job on a ranch up in Lewistown Montana.

He often thought that maybe his rough start in life was a good thing because instead of wasting time hanging around with a bunch of losers he had spent that time thinking about how he could get his life goin. Yeah, I’m a loner so screw you!

His boss at the Broken Bow Ranch, Brady Hicks spent a lot of time away and depended on little Dick to take care of things while he would be gone some-times up to two or three weeks. This was a huge ranch but with hardly a fence any-where. The cows, mostly un-branded, ranged un-attended and went where-ever in search of grass and water. They reminded him of himself and his own up-bringing. No-body give a shit.

So it was left to little Dick to keep them together, best as he could and since he was the only ranch-hand he mostly sat on his ass in the bunk house thinking of a way to make a few extra bucks.

During these years he began to develop an idea that if he didn’t git caught, he might jist claw his sorry life out of this hell-hole and make somethin of him-self. His Dad, The Big Dick said he never would amount to anything anyway and Little Dicky almost believed him until he came up with an idea that was so flimsy and stupid that it just might work.

He had a friend over in Roundup about 18 or 19 years old who lived with his grandpa on a small ranch, a couple thousand acres. His grandma had died when he was 16. The old man ran a parts house there and he had a few commercial rental units which allowed him to play at cowboys and hobby ranchin. But as he had gotten older his rheumatism kept him in the house mostly. He had hoped his grandson would take hold and do somethin with his small ranch. It was small but it didn’t have to stay that way if the kid would do a little work. But without a strong hand, which the old man didn’t have, it became obvious that the boy probably wasn’t going to amount to much. His name is Terry Sheedy and he at this time was 17 years old.

Terry’s father back in those days was the County Sheriff but up till then they hardly ever saw each other. He was an O.K. deputy but after he was elected Sheriff his wife ran off with another deputy and Sheriff Harold Sheedy took to the bottle with way too much enthusiasm. He had been stopped so many times by the local police and his own deputys driving drunk that his nick-name was Shiddy Driver Sheedy. Never-the-less he was liked well enough that he was re-elected 4 times.

Now as the years passed young Terry and his dad the Sheriff would go together on ride-alongs, sometimes because the old man was too drunk to drive and Terry liked pulling speeders over for his drunkin Dad to see whether he should give him a ticket for what-ever Shiddy Sheedy thought seemed good and proper under the circumstances at the time.

The Sheriff would stagger on over there and start chattin it up with people who were usually his friends and he wasn’t about to give’m a hard time no matter how damn fast they were drivin, let’s face it, we’re in Montana, you should be able to drive as fast as you want to. Jist be careful Larry or next time, I’ll run your ass in you son of a bitch. Ha! Ha!

Everybody, well, most everybody thought it was damn funny that little Terry was doin the drivin. But then this is Montana.

The theory was that the ole man didn’t do his job as a dad very well so he might have thought that he could repair his Dad status by informally deputizing and letting his 17 year old kid help him do his Sheriff job, and he was right and besides Terry was havin a blast at playin sheriff and his friends thought he was Cool. Watch out or I’ll give yer dumb ass a ticket Ha!

Then when Terry was 19 his grandfather died leavin him his ranch and about 3 or 4 other commercial rental units. The income from them was just o.k. but the parts house was a pain in his ass, him havin to work all the damn time so he was looking for someone to lease or buy it because if that happened he could almost afford to retire at the by then age of 21.

It was during this time that Terry had met Dick Hendrickson when he had come in to get a part for his pickup truck. Even though there was an 8 year difference in their ages they got along ok. And over time Dick began to realize that Terry had a ranch with some grass and water and it was already fenced. And in his mind, he was thinking about a place where he could put some cows.

As he worked up there in Lewiston on the Broken Bow Ranch with no supervision and not much pay, a plan began to form in his mind.

He knew that his plan was just plain Cattle Rustlin and the Montana Pen over in Deer Lodge would be glad to keep him there for quite a while if he gets caught. Not so many years before cattle rustling was a hangin offense.

He talked it over with his new friend Terry, What if I were to bring a few head of cattle, could you keep them for me?

What’s in it for me? I can’t pay you for the rent said Dick, but I can bring hay when we need it and I’ll cut you in for 10% of the gross when we sell.

Naw I gotta have 35%. That won’t work Terry, you’ve got the ranch but I’ve got to steal the cows, bring the winter feed, Do all the trucking, keep up the fences and all the work. I know you aint gonna do any-thing but sit there on yer ass and call me when you need something.

20% and it’s a deal! Dick stuck out his hand and said, Good, I’m glad you accepted 15%. That’ll work. They shook on it and that was over 30 years ago. He stole cows and hay from his boss for another 2 years before he got suspicious and fired him but by then Little Dick and Terry had a hundred or so of their own cows legally bought. Eventually Terry needed some money to do a real-estate deal and Dick made him a good deal to cash him out and so the partnership dissolved after about 5 years. But they stayed connected and did deals together off and on. This relationship worked for both of them, Terry working to enlarge his real-estate holdings and Little Dick stayed with the cow business. They helped each other as the occasion warranted. They were both just a couple of small time thieves but they got along in a sort of symbiotic relationship working their way through life, though they didn’t think of it like that. They thought that because the damn Republicans had ruint their chances with all this Fetch fer yerselves bullshit they couldn’t git any help from the system so they would jist take it, and they can Kiss my fat ass! Of course Terry was so skinny that he didn’t even have an ass. Well, they can kiss it anyways in front of the flagpole and hell, I’ll giv’em half an hour to draw a crowd. Sons a bitchin Republicans anyway. Terry was a big talker with a little ass to back it up and that’s for damn sure.

Terry had the reputation of taking advantage of old men and widow women to the extent that he acquired the moniker of Shady Sheedy, but even so it didn’t prevent him from gaining a seat on the county board of supervisors. He needed an ally on the board so he encouraged his friend Little Dick Hendrickson to run and damned if he didn’t git the seat too. Now with him and Little Dick on the Board of Supervisors he could do damn near anything he wanted to do with his properties and he would slip Dick a thousand or so for helping him out on the counsel.

Over the years they did just O.K. with their businesses but they were both a bit short of having it made. Little Dick couldn’t quit working even though he made fair money with his cows. But it just wasn’t enough and never would be if something didn’t change for the better. He needed a big break but he just couldn’t see what it might be. Until then he would just cheat a little here and steal a little there and hanging on until that big opportunity came along.

Those were his thoughts as he sat there with his flash-light peering into the cavern. Maybe this is it, my last good chance. If I found gold just laying here on the damn ground, there must be a lot more where that came from but I’m gonna need help and there is only one guy I can trust, Shady Terry Sheedy.

He mounted his horse and started down the green valley to the trail leading to the fence rider’s shack where he left his truck. The cattle are coming next week. I want Terry to git up here before the hands show up. He loaded up his horse in the trailer and began the long drive down to the Townsend Ranch where he could leave his horse and then get to a cell tower where he could call Terry. He needs to git up here right now.

Hey man, whatcha doin? said Terry.

Little Dick related the events of the day and said, look Terry, I need you to drop what-ever you’re up to right now and meet me up here at the Townsend Ranch at 1st light tomorrow morning. You need to bring your horse and enough stuff to stay a couple days at least. We’ll be campin out so come prepared, and it’s cold as all billy hell up here soon as the sun goes down.

When they got back up to the site Dick had stacked a huge pile of rocks so they wouldn’t have trouble finding the spot. He then tied a lariette around Terry’s waist and tied the other end to the saddle horn as a safety measure against Terry falling through into the cavern.

O.K. man, walk on over there but be careful, I damn near fell in.

Terry walked slowly until he felt the ground shifting under his feet. Dick hollered over to him and said, look Terry, you’re a helluva lot