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40 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano

“I been worried about Big Jim. His mother is worried too. I sent her that letter and she hasn’t

replied and we sure ain’t seen Jim.”

“He cho up, Ju geev it time,” Juan said.

“I’ve given him plenty of time. He told his folks, he’d be around this winter to help them.

You may not know it but, when he tells you something, you can rely on it to happen.”

“Mebee, he gots trouble someplace. Mebee he find woman. That trouble hard to get away.” I

laughed at the way Juan put things and yet, he makes his point.

We stayed busy and then one day we received word that Big Jim was in jail down in Mexico.

Joe Simmons came by and brought our mail from Newberry. The letter came from Jim himself.

“Gid, I’m down south of the border, eatin’ beans and hot chile. If it ain’t too inconvenient,

come and get me. I’m afraid they might keep this blue colt.”

I left Juan at the ranch and headed down there by train. I had to ride to Raton to catch a

southbound train. I left my horse there in Raton. It was a long train ride. Finally, I wound up in

San Carlos, Mexico. In San Carlos I paid a man a few pesos to borrow his horse to make the

ride. That Mexican saddle pinched my butt the whole way. It still beat walking though so I

didn’t complain to anyone.

I took with me a little money, found out where they held him and went to bail him out. It

took a lot of persuading to get them to release him and nearly all the money in my pockets. I

figured they were tired of feeding him. I was glad I’d decided to stash a little cash for the trip

home in a safe place. I never let them know I owned a cent more than I showed them.

Jim hadn’t really done any real harm. He just got drunk and tried to flirt with the wife of one

of the law officers. I stood there without saying anything while they let him out of his cell. As

we walked away I said,

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