You've all surely heard how Mel found Jeff's band and how, single-handedly, he completely wiped it out. Also the ballad "The Lonely Avenger" sings of his exploits.
"Sing, his pistols, sing.
His pistol sings
and it's a song of victory...
A song of revenge,
promised on a grave."
About how Mel found his first brother, or step brother, as the tales tell, the inaccuracies are possibly the larger. The stories tell that Rufus was unlawfully accused to have... forsaken the daughter of his master to whom he denied himself...
The truth is rather different. If you want proof, you have to know that the results of serious investigations prove that Rufus' master didn't have any daughters. Nary a one. But he had a son, called Martin. Who, as chance would have it, appears again later in the story of the Baxter brothers...
About a year after Ben's death, Mel arrived at the Gila Bend. There were people on the street and they were finishing the preparations of a rope to hang someone. Mel approached on his horse, Ben's horse in tow. Arriving near the improvised gallows, he saw they were bringing a bound young mulatto. The boy was walking tall, serious, towards the gallows, with a dignity that impressed Mel.
So he asked a man next to him: "Why they hangin' him? What'd he do?"
"That filthy nigger! He screwed his master's son!"
"And they hang him for that? Did he have a trial?"
"No need ta have a trial for pigs and dogs!"
Mel looked again at the mulatto. They were putting the noose around his neck. They were about to pull the chair from under his feet. Mel drew his pistols and with one shot cut the rope. Everybody turned towards him, several goin' for their weapons.
Mel, aloud and self assured, said: "The boy comes with me. The first to move, is dead!"
Somebody drew, but Mel's pistols fired three shots in rapid succession. The two guns were blown out of the man's hands. With the third shot, the man went pale - the bullet cut his hat's chin strap and lightly brushed his neck.
Mel said: "Next time I'm aimin' at your brain, understand?"
"Why you meddlin', boy? Leave!"
"Nobody's gonna be killed without a trial. I don't recognize lynchin' law."
"Who are you, a Marshall.... A Sheriff?"
"Nope, I'm one who can shoot. Is that enough for ya? Jump on this horse, you!" He then said to the ashen faced mulatto boy, who came. Then Mel, again addressing the men, said: "Now y'all pull out the bullets from your weapons, and don't try to play smart. Good... now throw all your weapons here, at my feet. Very good... you too, handsome, if you want to be able to have your meal, tonight. Now throw all the bullets at your shoulders... Hey, you, that pistol under your armpit, do you think I didn't see it? So, good man..."
"You are looking for trouble, brother. We'll find you and we will hang both of you!" a man said.
"Good, nice! If you want to look for me, ask of Mel the Kid, that's me. Good bye and... take care not to came in my sights, or this place's undertaker will become rich... Let's go, boy!"
They both left at a gallop. They crossed the village and continued for a while. Then they left the road and reached the Gila river and followed it for a spell, riding in its water. When they reached a rocky place, they went back on the bank and rode in the woods. When they found a high place from where they could see if somebody was approaching, they stopped.
"Why did you rescue me?"
"Because there is no sense in paying with his life for things like those they said you did. And possibly, it was the fault of your master's son, and not yours."
"No... I and young master Martin... we were in love. And it's me who taught him, when we both were fifteen years old..."
"How old are you now?"
"Seventeen."
"I thought a couple more. What's your name?"
"Rufus."
"How do you do, Rufus. My name is Mel."
"Mel... the Kid. And your family name?"
"I never had one."
"It's not possible. Just we slaves don't have family names. Who is your father?"
"My mother was a whore, her name was Evelyn. And they say that my father was Matt Riley, but he never acknowledged me."
"So you're Mel Riley."
"No. I don't want the name of a father who didn't want me. What was your lover's last name?"
"Who? Young master Martin? It's Mac Bride."
"I see. And he goina let you be hanged?"
"His father locked him up. He defended me. But... now Mac Bride's men will hunt me until they kill me."
"Just come with me. With me you'll be safe. Agreed?"
"Sure, I can't do different, master Mel. You gave me again life, so I belong to you."
"No. If you wanta come with me, it has to be as a friend. I never had slaves, and don't want one. But you are not a black man, you are a mulatto... and rather fair skinned..."
"Yes, my mother was a mulatto slave, and she was pregnant of Master Philip, master Mac Bride's brother."
"So you and Martin are cousins."
"He always told me so. He didn't want me to call him master. He said 'We are cousins and lovers... When I'm an adult, I'll take you away from here and free you...' he always said."
"You are free, now, anyway."
"Thanks to you... Mel."
They rested, then remounted their horses and went farther from the Gila towards the backwoods. There was no sign of possible pursuers. When night was approaching, they camped on a slope, among the rocks, in a small natural terrace. Mel prepared some food then, spread two rugs. They half undressed and lay down. They chatted a while, until Rufus slipped asleep.
Mel couldn't go to sleep. He looked the half naked body of the mulatto lying at his side. The night was warm, they hadn't covered themselves. That body attracted him, that boy attracted him. He stretched his arm and lightly caressed the uncovered belly. It was firm, but the skin was smooth like precious silk. He let his hand glide down and his fingers slipped under the wide cotton breeches, made soft by the countless washings. Rufus moved, stretched, then relaxed and was again still. Mel pushed a little further down under the boy's breeches until he felt under his fingertips the frizzy hairs of his groin. Rufus turned towards Mel and put his arm across his chest. Now he had open eyes, and looked at Mel with the hint of a smile.
They drew nearer, lying on their sides. Their mouth united, their tongues intertwined and played, while Mel's hands slowly moved brushing each square inch of the other's body. Mel's fingertips slowly caressed each point, everywhere, strongly, yet gently. With his palm at times quivering, at times calm. With his full flat hand following each curve, slipping into each fold, feeling the smooth and tense skin on the muscles used to hard work. He explored the borders of the hairs in his armpits...Caressed the nape of his neck, the gentle and strong curve of his jaw, the long sound neck, traveling in the sinuous and sweet sides. Slipping again under the fabric of the breeches to explore the strong hips, his firm and small buttocks, climbing up again along his spine and finally, toured his sides, slowly proceeding on, to seize his fantastic member, so hard, not huge but conspicuous, throbbing. And then Mel brushes, feels, massages, handles it while their tongues still play in an unceasing, passionate kiss.
Rufus is all a quiver, all a tremor. He quickly rids himself of his worn breeches, and lowers Mel's trousers, almost with urgency. Then pushing him on his back, goes on top of him with his naked body. Mel sees Rufus' eyes shining like stars while the boy brushes his body against his own, and their two parallel members, hard and throbbing, are massaged by tense bellies.
Then Rufus slides backward and kneels between Mel's legs. Mel guesses his desire and pulls his knees against his chest, offering himself to his companion. Rufus lubes his hole with his spit, massaging it for a long while and putting more spit until he feels Mel quivering in desire. Then the beautiful mulatto seizes his member with his right hand and drives it carefully to the hot target and Mel's hole welcomes his pole almost greedily. Rufus makes a short stop and looks Mel in his eyes. Mel smiles at him, encouragingly. So Rufus gives a decided but controlled push, to win the first resistance, then stops again. Then starts to sink inside him. Rufus bends on his new friend's body, and holds him on his arms, pulling him against his body, continuing to invade him with determined slowness, until he is completely inside Mel.
Then he stops again and asks in a whisper: "Am I hurtin' you?"
"Oh, no, not at all."
"Tell me if I hurt you." Rufus says with a warm, low, sweet and sincere voice lightly caressing his cheek, "I don't want to hurt you."
"I really love it. It's really great!"
Rufus remains still a little more, holding tight Mel against his body, and only his pole throbs, but without moving, inside the hot channel that received it.
"You really sure it's OK?"
"Yes, yes, oh yes!"
Then finally Rufus starts to move his pelvis back and forth. Mel feels it moving inside his channel, hot and firm, with an art, with skill, massaging and pushing against the right parts of his channel with the right energy. A perfect rhythm, so that he is in ecstasy and yells with pleasure. The mulatto's pelvis movements repeat skillfully and his belly pressed against Mel's belly increasingly massages Mel's hard rod, and their skins slips smoothly thanks to their sweat, teasing the inflamed tip of Mel's pole.
Then Rufus rotates his pelvis and his member rotates inside Mel, and his belly too rotates, teasing in a new way Mel's member. Rufus changes the speed and depth of his strokes, modulates them in a subtle and skilled way, and Mel, almost on instinct, start to move in unison under him. Mel starts moving his hole's muscles almost as to milk Rufus' pole, relaxing them when Rufus sinks inside, and clasping them when he withdraws, imprisoning his rod in a sweet and warm vice. Rufus murmurs something in appreciation, and continues, tireless, with a satisfied smile.
And finally, after several false alarms, after reaching several times the brim of the precipice and stopping just in time, they both, at once, cumm; jet after jet after jet...
"I didn't hurt you, right?"
"No Rufus, you were exceptional. I never felt anything so wonderful. You really are an artist. Who taught you?"
"Nobody. I learned by myself, trying to give more pleasure to my beloved master Martin."
"Do you know that you are fantastic?"
"Thank you. But you too were fantastic. I didn't know that you too enjoyed making love with men. Is that why you rescued me?"
"No, I wasn't thinkin' 'bout that. Only when you undressed to sleep, I realized I wanted you."
"Why did you wait 'till I was asleep?"
"I don't know. I possibly feared a refusal."
"Why should I? You're really beautiful, and likable... and saved my life. I too desired you, but I thought you were not interested in men, or just not in me."
"You are so handsome, Rufus. Really beautiful. And making love with you, is better than a dream."
"Then, I'll make you dream any time you wish, my friend. And will you too make me dream?"
"For sure."
"Will you take me, next time?"
"If you like it..."
"Oh yes, very much. You have a dick that seems just right to take me - it is rightly big, rightly long, and hard like a rock..."
"But not now..." Mel giggled.
Rufus caressed it: "Now they are resting. They did work hard, our little brothers. They need to recover their vigor for next time."
"Rufus... I'm happy I took you away with me."
"May I stay with you?"
"As long as you want."
"Then... forever!"
The following day, after washing themselves in a stream, they dressed. Mel made Rufus try some of his clothes, and Ben's, as he wanted his new friend to ditch his poor slave's clothes. But for the mulatto, everything was too tight, he could barely put them on. They both laughed.
"Don't worry, Mel, I can continue to wear my rags."
"No. My friends have to be elegant like me. As soon as we reach a town, I'll buy you new clothes, a hat, boots and spurs. You have to be dressed in the latest fashion!"
"If you want, it's OK with me. But you don't have to spend your money on me. I can work with you and earn the money..."
"Can you handle a pistol?"
"Me? No, I never had a pistol in my hand."
Mel explained his work to him and told him how important it was to be well armed and skilled in shooting.
"Well, if I had my throwin' knives... nobody can surpass me in speed or accuracy."
"I could buy you a set, but... against a pistol or a gun, a knife can do little."
"No, it can do a lot, believe me. Because I can throw them really far, and because whoever holds a pistol always underestimates someone who has a little knife. They seem almost harmless, knives, but... If you really can buy me a set, I'll show you."
Reaching Tucson, first Mel dressed Rufus from head to toe. Then they looked for the throwing knives. They found them at the third weapons shop. Rufus balanced them in his experienced hand, examined them, weighted them, until he found the set of his satisfaction.
The gunsmith made his compliments: "You, sir, are a real expert. They don't look that good, but really are the best. Do you want to buy the entire set of twelve?"
Rufus looked at Mel, who nodded and paid. They went out, on the street.
"Let's go out of town, Mel, so I can show you."
Mel was speechless. Rufus hurled his deadly small knives in a volley, hitting exactly with each one of them where he said, with strength and extreme rapidity.
"Deadly! And moreover silent..." Mel commented at the end, then added: "but you will also carry pistols, at times they can be a deterrent."
"As you wish, Mel. It would be good if I have, in the clothes I wear, a set of small secret pockets where I carry my knives. Here on back of my neck, here under the collar, here on my sleeve..." he said pointing at the various spots.
"Why so spread around?"
"Here, if I have to rise my hands, I can catch them in a moment, here, you see, just with this movement I have a knife in my hand..." Rufus explained with gestures and words.
"Really clever. And who taught you all this?"
"An old Indian who worked in a circus. And I always practiced very hard, any time I had some free time."
"Happily nobody had these knives, when I took you away..."
"Very few people are experts with the throwing knives. They're not a common weapon. There, from what I know, I was the only one."
"So, I was lucky that the only one who knew how to use them, didn't want to use them against me. Well, now let's look for a hotel, then you can have the changes made in your clothing."
Everybody knows how skilled Rufus was, so he earned the nickname of Rufus The Hurler. His skill was often critical to the missions they received. Rufus' knifes, like Mel's bullets, never spared a life. Rufus learned to use his pistols, but in case of a real danger, he never used them, he preferred to rely on his knives.
So then, with Rufus fully clothed and armed, they went to a hotel and took a room. You have to know that at those times and in those lands, it was quite common that people traveling together, especially if of the same sex, shared a room or even a bed. At times even travelers barely knowing each other. And at the hotel they didn't care so much about Rufus color, because he was with a white man, because he was very well dressed, and because Mel always paid in advance.
Mel was in Tucson because he heard that a certain Thompson had to transport valuables to Phoenix, and was looking for skilled gunmen to escort the transport. But he was informed that Thompson would not be back in Tucson before the following week.
"Well, Rufus, we have all the time we want to amuse ourselves, and to make the modifications you need to your clothes."
"Yes, we really need to amuse ourselves, I think that when we start work, we will not have many chances to make love."
"But, do you think only about that?"
"If I have to amuse myself, sure. And then, you still have to let me try your beautiful rod. You promised to take me, remember?"
"Sure, I remember! Tonight, promise."
"It's a pity that the room they gave us has two small bed instead of a double."
"Yeah... We will be careful not to fall down..." Mel said laughing.
"When we lock ourselves inside, we can put the mattresses on the floor, so we can move freely."
"Do you want to make a rodeo?"
Rufus laughed amused, and Mel admired his perfect teeth, white like pearls, and his fleshy lips, red like corals.
"Yes, why not? And you will be the young bull mounting me!"
"Don't say it so aloud, they can overhear us!"
"Oh, sorry!"
"Rufus?"
"Yes?"
"Do we have to wait 'till tonight? After all, we have nothing to do. We can go to our hotel, lock us in our room and... start our private rodeo."
"OK! Let's go!"
After telling the owner they didn't want to be disturbed since they were tired from traveling, they wanted to rest. They went to their room, put the mattresses on the floor and undressed.
Rufus was about to lay on them, but Mel said: "No, not yet."
"Why?"
"I want to look at your body, before. Turn round. Slowly..."
"But you already saw me..."
"Yes, but each time I'm amazed by your beauty. You are exciting, sexy..."
"Here I am... look..."
"Yes, you're beautiful. You really are beautiful... I like your hairless body. The color of your skin. I like your fine dick awakening little by little... your firm and sinewy little ass that in a while I will come to visit... Your wide chest, your hollow belly... You are a splendid male. Martin had to be mad about you."
"He was 'shamed to be seen naked or look at me. But he liked makin' love. But you know better 'an him how to caress. You are makin' me forget him, and very fast."
"Do you miss Martin?"
"A little, but... you're a lot better 'an him. You are not 'shamed of your body or mine. You make me feel desired, and 'preciate my desires. I believe that it was fate that make we meet. Do you believe in fate? I do. You are makin' Martin's memory fade away from my heart. You're rapidly gettin' hold of it. You are the male I always dreamed about, even without knowing he really existed."
Mel approached and started to caress him. He leant against him, at his back, both still standing. Rufus pushed back his pelvis to better feel his friend's erection. Mel caressed his chest, his member. Rufus spread his butt with both hands and Mel pushed forward and felt the warm flesh bud opening and starting to receive him. He embraced Rufus' chest tightly and pushed forth. He took him.
Mel felt himself sinking inside his friend and an intense warmth welcomed his quivering rod, and from there irradiated all over his body stretched out to take and give pleasure. Rufus pushed back his head, to meet Mel's lips, and they kissed while Mel, now completely inside him, started to move back and forth with strong but slow pushes.
The two bodies wove in a kind of erotic dance, full of virile passion. Rufus, at each of his friend's thrusts, held out his pelvis to be better penetrated, to fully savor that blazing hot staff that was filling him, and making him feel quivers of emotion. Mel's hand on the chest of the splendid mulatto brushed his small and firm nipples, hard like two chickpeas, titillated them, teased them provoking in his companion sparks of pleasure. His other hand lowered from his belly to seize the column of sound palpitating flesh, brushing it against the tense belly, making the top skin slip down (at the time circumcision was still rare, especially for slaves) and manipulated it, tickled it, at times with the lightness of a feather, at time with the rugged energy of his hand closed to brandish it, at times in a gentle massage with the palm spread.
Suddenly the strong legs of the boy surrendered and Rufus started to gently slide onto the mattresses, moaning with the ecstasy of his senses. Mel, firmly embedded inside him, accompanied him until they were kneeling. Rufus went on all fours and Mel started again to move inside him, rotating his pelvis, slipping out with extreme slowness to then plunge again inside with a fast and strong stroke. Rufus encouraged him moaning at each push for his intense pleasure.
"Yeah... so... yeah... harder... aaah... go on..."
The pleasure of one increased the pleasure of the other. The enjoyment of one exalted the enjoyment of the other. Mel's hands continued to tease his nipples, the member and balls of the boy, who writhing in pleasure, strongly panting, enjoying that ride worth a leap's stallion.
Now Mel had increased his rhythm in a kind of unbridled gallop, and felt that Rufus was near the chasm of pleasure, and that he was pushing him inside it. And Mel let himself fall inside it, becoming still and well planted in his depths, all his muscles tensed to spasm. Rufus' muscles tensed like a bow ready to shoot his arrow, and finally their members, in unison, started to throb and at each contraction threw a jet of boiling lava, in a set of decreasing spasm, until both exhausted their primeval energy.
Then the two boys' bodies, still firmly united, started to relax and a kind of deep languor seized them, and together glided on the mattresses. Mel held his friend tight to himself, feeling his wide shoulders panting against his panting chest, the small firm butt still quivering against his groin.
They remained so, still, slightly panting, savoring the last sparks of emotion, until Rufus felt Mel's member withdraw little by little, slip away, and at last leave him.
Then he turned between Mel's arms, and embraced him, gently caressing him.
"Wow! You're a hurricane! How good it was feeling you, alive, powerful, inside me. You made me feel yours, all yours. I would have liked it to never end..."
"Do you know that you have a good smell, while making love? A musky, manly, inebriating smell."
"And do you know that your lips, your tongue, have the taste of a spring of fresh water?"
"You are really exciting, boy."
"Will you take me again this way?"
"Yes, sure. But I too desire to feel you again inside me. How can we do it, when we will have to escort the transport?"
"We still have several days before that. And then, when the job is over, think how many accumulated energies we will have to spend, you and I. You with me, and I with you..."
"God, how much I like you, Rufus!"
"Do you like best taking me or being taken?"
"I can't make a choice. And you?"
"Me neither. So, we'll alternate, so we can enjoy both in both ways."
"Promise. Do you know what... I'm feeling that... I'm starting to desire you again?"
"Happily. Me too, and I didn't know if I had to tell you or not..."
"Even if you didn't, your little brother, who is waking up, is telling me..."
"He is a rascal, my little brother! You have to punish him..."
"Sure, putting him in and I'll chastise him putting him in my dark tunnel..."
"Dark, but warm and welcoming..."
So, gently joking, they started making love again with renewed desire and passion.
When they went downstairs for supper, they ate with a good appetite, cheerful and satisfied, joking aloud about their little brothers, amused at