Evil Rides a White Horse

For most of my life I have been known as Seriff Seth Cowley who retired on February 14, 1912. It was the day when the Territory of Arizona was admitted to the Union as the forty-eighth state. While bells rang and people celebrated in Phoenix as Governor George W.P. Hunt took the podium.

“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to you all as today Arizona becomes a state in this great United States of America.” He glanced around the crowd, many waving flags with forty-eight stars in a field of blue. There were fireworks and cheering as the governor spoke about a new future ahead for the newest state. After his speech, he began to call noteworthy people to the podium to acknowledge them for their contributions.

When he called me, Sheriff Seth Cowley, to the stage, I had picked this day to retire from my tenure as sheriff. I hobbled up the wooden stairs where Governor Hunt shook my hand and gave me a certificate. I smiled as I stood at the microphone. It buzzed like a bee when I cleared his throat.

“I am grateful to be standing here in front of you wonderful people.” I pushed my cowboy hat to the back of my head, a hat I had worn when Arizona was part of the Wild West back in 1887 on my first day as sheriff.” Lemme tell ya one thing about my time as your sheriff.” I paused to compose himself as I felt the weight of the moment pushing down on my shoulders. “I have survived when others were not so fortunate. I have gone up against some of toughest hombres you can imagine. But time has given me the grace to carry on when I felt I could not take another step.” I pause to draw a deep breath, “Evil rides a white horse.” I chews hard on each word I speak. There is a spattering of applause when I walk down the stairs..

“What the heck was that?” Jake Hart from the Arizona Republic waited for me at the bottom of the stairs.

“I think what I said was quite clear.” I narrowed my gaze as I spoke to my old his old friend with a raised eyebrow as the crowd surged around both of them.

“Evil? What evil?” Jake shook his head.

“You never saw the things I did.” My grin had a few gaps in it.

“How about we sit in the saloon and have an interview?” Jake suggested.

“Saloon sounds alright, but why spoil it by asking me some questions I’m probably lie about anyway?” I slapped his old friend on the shoulder.

Horse Thief Canyon 1887

I was just a young buck when I was hired as a lawman in Prescott. Sheriff Marcus Hammonds was in charge back then when the place was ripe with lawbreakers and malcontents, but in reality most of the stuff we dealt with was minor drunk and disorderly. All that changed when the Gonzalos Boys came riding into town. Now I know them dime novels painted a much more exciting picture with a rustic romantic notion of what things were like back then, but let me make it clear, it wasn’t that way at all.

The Gonzalos Boys were a pistolero gang from Northern Mexico who hid out up near Crown Point in Horse Thief Canyon. I remember how torturous that trail was. It was uphill the entire way. There wasn’t much up there at Crown Point at the time either. Nothing but a saloon, livery stable and general store. Sheriff Hammonds knew some folks up there. He got them to verify that the gang was there.

“Seth, don’t go thinking this is a joyride.” Marcus leaned back on his barstool. “Frank says there’s four of them and they just hustled some young ponies they’re planning to sell to some renegade who are hiding in by the lake.”

“What are we planning to do?” I asked when I finished my beer.

“We’re gonna ride at sunset. Catch ‘em by surprise.” He pushed his hat back and smiled, “If we’re lucky, we can take some of them renegades.”

It seemed to me being outnumbered wasn’t to our advantage, but I trusted him enough to do what he told me to do.

At sunset we rode toward Horse Thief Canyon where those boys were hanging out. When we got closer to their camp, I could smell their fire sizzling an enticing aroma of their dinner. Sheriff Hammonds got out his field glasses and had a look at their camp.

“Just like Mitch told me.” He smiled whispering to me as he was still looking through his field glasses, “There are four. They got about half dozen ponies they’re lookin’ to swap to the renegades.”

Before I could say another word, Sheriff Hammonds yelled to them, “Come out with your hands up!”

There was cursing as a couple of the pistoleros shot wildly into the woods. I heard a couple bullets whistle overhead.

“Return fire.” Sheriff Hammonds said to me.

When I saw one of them make a dash to the makeshift coral, I aimed and pulled the trigger. I heard him groan as he fell to the ground.

“We give up, senor.” The leader raised his hands and nodded to the others.

“Throw your pistols to the ground.” Sheriff Hammonds ordered. One by one they tossed their pistols to the ground. I stepped out with my eyes on the man I had shot who was still trying to move.

“Ah, the gringo sheriff.” The leader said when he saw Hammonds.

Only the leader spoke English while the others spoke only Spanish which Marcus happened to understand.

“It goes like this.” He smiled, “All of you will ride back into Crown Point where there is a jail. The ponies will be tethered together. If anyone gets any ideas, me and my deputy will take care of things.”

“The renegades will be watching.” The leader warned.

“What’s your name?” Sheriff Hammonds asked.

“Rodrigo Gonzalos.” He answered as I tied his hands behind his back.

“There’s a wanted poster back at my office with your name on it, but the picture is awful.” Sheriff Hammonds mounted his white horse.

“Where I came from, amigo, Evil rides a white horse.” He grinned as his pony began to move forward. The other two sat high on their mounts while the one I shot in the shoulder was laid over the back of his pony. There were a couple of riderless ponies.

“Where did you come up with that Rodrigo?” Sheriff Hammond questioned.

“When they come to our village one night to burn our house down and kill our livestock.” Rodrigo licked his dry cracked lips, “The man on the white horse was Diablo. Evil. If you see him, he will try to steal your soul.”

“I just don’t believe in superstition.” Sheriff Hammond laughed as he put a pinch of chewing tobacco in his cheek and spit some on the ground.

When we deposited the horse thieves into the jail, Sheriff Hammonds said we would spend the night at the Crown Point Hotel. The hotel had just ten rooms, but no one ever came this far up the hill. He signed a release for the prisoners before paying for a room for the night. We would each get a bed.

I had trouble sleeping on the straw mattress, but once I did, I felt the heavy hand of sleep overtake me. I woke up to gunfire.

“Damn.” Sheriff Hammonds cursed as he got up putting his pants on. “C’mon kid, we got company.”

He ran out the front door, but a man on a white horse put a bullet through hs chest. Sheriff Hammonds was dead before he hit the ground. I took a wild shot, but the Gonzalos Gang was riding away in the darkness.

When I rode up to Horse Thief Canyon, I could not believe what I saw. All four of the brothers had been pegged into the ground using rope tied to their hands and feet. All four had also been scalped. Their hearts had been removed. When I looked over each of the brothers, it was apparent they were alive through most of their brutal torture. It was hard for me to imagine someone had done this to them. Once this had been a heartless territory where such atrocities were common, but as more people came to Arizona they brought their civilization with rules and laws to avert the calamity of the past.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw someone on horseback riding through the pine trees.

“I come in peace.” The rider held up his hand.

“Do you know what happened here?” I asked the rider wearing buckskins and a headband with a single feather.

“My band has been tracking this fiend.” He dismounted and knelt next to one of the brothers, “We were supposed to meet near the lake, but instead they met the rider on a white horse.”

“One rider did this?” I could not believe what he was telling me. The Gonzalos Brothers were true desperados in every sense of the word. They had killed Sheriff Hammond in Crown Point.

“Yes.” He nodded, “My name is Lone Wolf, and I had planned to buy the six ponies so me and my band could ride into Mexico. We will not live on a reservation. I wanted to tell you that we did not kill these men.”

“I cannot believe one man did this.” I held out my hand over their bodies.

“He is not one man.” Lone Wolf assured me. “He is Evil.”

“How so?” I asked.

“The man who rides the white horse is Evil.” Lone Wolf sat on a tree stump, “We have heard stories told of what he can do. And this is what I’ve been told he can do.”

My eyes looked at each of them. Their blood soaked the ground where they lay. Their eyes were open. The terror of the last thing they saw was still reflected in their dark eyes. I shuddered when I thought about this lone rider.

“Sheriff’s dead.” Governor Zulick with a sigh.

“Sheriff?” I shook my head.

“Who else have I got?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not ready.” I shook my head.

“Ready or not, you’re it.” His wry smile confirmed it was done deal no matter what I said. “I understand that the man who killed him was also killed.”

“Yes sir.” I confirmed.

“Saved the taxpayers the expense of a trial.” He nodded before disappearing into his office.

My first function as the new sheriff was to hire three deputies: Rich Evers, Don Cauldwell and Max Fenton. All of them were older than me, but I let them know right from the start, I was in charge as the new sheriff. They all seemed eager to

“I come all the way out here to be a part of the Wild West.” Don told everyone one slow afternoon when the sun outside was set to kill. Our tiny office was not much cooler, but it was better than standing in the sun. “I was in the army for a couple of years.”

“Good for you.” Don sat back in his chair with his hat pulled over his eyes.

“Don, quit playing with your gun.” I watched as he looked into the dark barrel of his pistol, “They lost a deputy in Yuma doing that.”

“Just hard to believe a bullet comes out of this thing.” He squinted as he put his gun in his holster.

“It does. Take my word for it.” I shook my head. Don was from New Jersey. His father fought and died in the war between the states.

The door opened as Mr. Penniger the owner of the general store burst in, “Some rider came in to the store and held me up at gun point.”

“Boys let’s get over there.” I commanded. Each of them jumped to their feet.

“And sheriff.” Mr. Penniger held out is hand as I moved toward the door, “This man had no face.”

“Whacha talking about Gordon?” I asked.

“He had no face.” The old man shook his head. I had known him from my first days in Prescott. He was a solid down-to-earth citizen who supported Sheriff Hammonds. “I wish it weren’t so, but he had no face.”

“Are you sure he wasn’t wearing a bandana?” I asked as I watched my three deputies race out the door.

“Was no bandana.” He dropped his gaze to the floor.

“I’d better get moving.” I nodded as I ran out the door.

No face? Lone Wolf had mentioned his appearance, but I was sure it wasn’t so. When I got there Don and Max had been shot by the bandit. He was facing the other direction, but when he turned, my blood turned cold. Just as Gordon had told me, he had no face. What I was looking at was the eyeless skull of the gunman. His shrieking was his laughter as he continued to randomly around the room.

Rich had ducked behind a shelf. With his eyes wide in terror, he whispered, “I am scared.”

“Me too.” I admitted as the bandit continued to fire his pistol.

“He’s shot more than six bullets.” Rich said dejectedly.

“Time for me to return from whence I came.” The demon shouted.

Lone Wolf met me and Rich out near Horse Thief Canyon.

“My grandfather spoke of the devil on the white horse.” He warmed his hands over our fire. “He told me about a spell that will send him back to hell.”

“We might need it.” I shook my head.

“If what you have told me is true, then yes you have met this spirit who is truly evil.” Lone Wolf glanced over at me, “My grandfather spoke of how the evil deeds of men make him stronger. He lives in a cave out here somewhere. He appears to those who are weak and tempted to do his bidding for rewards he promises to give.”

“I’ve dealt with a lot of snake oil vendors.” I shook my head. “They never deliver on their promises.”

“My grandfather warned me about the evil one who rides a white horse.” Lone Wolf closed his eyes, “If you see him, it means he has seen the weakness in your soul. Do you think this is true.”

“Yes.” I said bowing my head. “I have doubts.”

“Why?” Lone Wolf asked.

“My father came here during the Gold Rush. He lied and cheated his way to an early grave. My mother told me that I would probably end up like him.” I confessed as I spit into the fire. “It haunts me. I wish it didn’t. I applied for the deputy position. I figured if I became a lawman, I’d have to play it straight. I would like to think it’s true, but recently I’ve had my doubts.”

“We all have our doubts.” Lone Wolf shook his head.

“I know how you feel sheriff.” Rich had his knees under his chin as he sat next to me. “I was scared the other day. I felt like running and never looking back.”

“Why did you become a deputy?” I asked him.

“I wanted to be somebody.” He sniffed, “But that ain’t working out for me it seems.”

We sat there in silence that was broken by a rider on a white horse.

“I hope you have strong magic, because we have company.” I pointed after taking cover behind a tree.

“Who the heck is he?” Rich was shaking when he saw the rider.

“Which of you will stand up to me?” He asked with a howl that echoed in the trees and canyon.

“I will.” Lone Wolf answered.

“Take cover.” I told Lone Wolf when he walked into the clearing.

“The first to die.” The rider fired his gun, but the bullet bounced off of Lone Wolf.

“What the heck?” I heard Rich proclaim in a harsh whisper.

“What have we here?” The faceless rider shrieked in amazement.

“Evil One, I am here to take you back to hell where you belong.” Lone wolf notched an arrow on his bow string. The arrow found its mark. The Evil One shrieked.

“You will pay for this.” The Evil One put his hand on the shaft of the arrow sticking out of his chest, but he flickered and began to fade right in front of our eyes. “You have no power to do this to me. I have been here longer than any of you.”

“You are the reason why we cannot live in peace in this beautiful land of harmony.” Lone Wolf put his bow over his shoulder as the demon made one last shriek before disappearing into the darkness. “It is finished here.”

“Your magic is powerful.” I stood with my pistol still clutched in my hand.

“He will return when his powers of restored.” Lone Wolf turned his head toward me. “Evil will always be with us. It is how we choose to deal with it. He will offer you power. He will offer you money. He will offer you things that will tempt you. Even the strong can be seduced by his charm and promises, but in the end our mortality will be where our road ends.”

I walked away from the crowd on my last day with the image of the Rider on the white horse still fresh in my mind after all these years. If I had not seen him in the crowd with his permanent smile on his eyeless face mounted upon his white horse, I would not have felt so haunted that day. But I was until my road ends.