“Now!” Walker shouted, and he punctuated his shout with a pistol shot. The Indian he had selected as his target tumbled from the saddle. The others of the posse blasted away, and the rapid fire decimated the Indians, but a chief began rallying his warriors. Cade took careful aim at the chief, then fired. The chief, who was holding his right arm over his head, waving his club as he exhorted the others, seemed to jerk in his saddle. Even from this distance, Cade could tell that the chief had an expression of disbelief on his face. The bullet hole in his chest was clearly visible, and after looking down at it for a moment, the chief fell from his horse.
That had the effect of demoralizing the rest of the Indians and, even though they still outnumbered the posse, not one of whom had even been wounded, the Comanche retreated.
Cade ran out to where many of the Indians now lay.
“McCall! McCall, get back here!” Walker shouted. “Some of them might still be alive!”
“I hope they are!” Cade called back.
The first Indian Cade reached was the chief that he had shot. The chief was still alive, though his breathing was labored. Cade knelt beside him, and offered the Indian a drink from his canteen.
“Why do you give me water?” the chief asked, his voice weak.
“Because you are dying an honorable death,” Cade replied. “You fought well.”
The Indian nodded. “I am Eagle Claw.”
“Where are the women, Eagle Claw?” Cade asked.
“We do not bring women and children on a war party.”
“I’m not talking about Comanche women and children. I’m asking about the two white women that you captured. Where are they?”
“We have no captive white women.”
“Can you tell me these words truthfully? You are dying. Do you want to die with a lie on your tongue?”
“I tell you true. We have no white women,” Eagle Claw replied.
22
On the whole, the posse’s mission was deemed a success. Several of the offending Indians were killed, and the remaining Indians were driven out of the county.
“I doubt any of them redskin sons of bitches will come back to Sedgwick County,” one of the posse members said.
“Not unless they’re in a hurry to get to the happy hunting ground,” another added, with a laugh.
The other members of the posse continued on in that vein, laughing and celebrating their operation. Cade didn’t join in with the banter, because as far as he was concerned, it had been a complete failure. He had wanted, hoped, and even expected to either find Arabella and Maggie, or to at least get an idea as to what happened to them.
“I’m sorry Cade,” Walker said when they returned to Wichita. “I wish we would have had better luck for you.”
“I thank you for taking a posse out.”
When Cade returned to the herd, the expression on his face said everything that needed to be said.
“You didn’t find them,” Jeter said.
“No.”
“Well, at least you didn’t find them dead.”
“Walker said he would keep looking for them,” Cade said. “How are the men?”
“They’re concerned about Arabella and Maggie,” Jeter said. “Oh, they’ve repaired the chuck wagon.”
“Who’s been doing the cooking?”
“Art Finley.”
“Is he any good?”
“Well, given the circumstances, no one has complained,” Jeter replied. “What do you want to do now?”
“I think we need to get the herd up to Abilene. I want to get them delivered, then I’m going back out to hunt for the women.”
“I’ll be coming with you,” Jeter said.
"Good, I'll be glad to have you with me."
When Kilgore got back to the Happy Cowboy, Toombs was waiting for him.
“Anyone suspect anything?” Toombs asked.
Kilgore laughed. “That fool McCall still thinks it’s injuns who took ‘em. The sheriff does too.”
Kilgore went up to the room where the two women had been held for the last week.
“All right, ladies, it’s time to go,” Kilgore said.
“Go where?” Arabella asked.
“Go wherever I tell you to go.”
“Arabella, pourquoi sommes-nous ici? Je veux aller a la maison.”
“What the hell did she just say?” Kilgore asked, angrily.
“She asked why we are here, and she said she wanted to go home.”
“You want to say something, you say it in American, so’s I can understand it.”
“Ce que je ne comprends pas,” Maggie replied.
“I said speak American!” Kilgore said, and he slapped her hard.
“Please, Mr. Kilgore! She said she doesn’t understand what you are saying,” Arabella pleaded.
“The hell she doesn’t. I’ve heard her speak American.”
“Yes, but the accident. She hit her head hard, and something has happened to her. She can speak and understand only French.”
Kilgore smiled. “Good.”
“Good? She’s hurt, she needs to see a doctor. Why do you say that’s good?”
“Because it means she ain’t got sense enough to get away by herself, ‘n you’ll have to look after her. ‘Cause it’s like I said, Missy, if you run away, I’ll kill her.”
Cade and Jeter reached the railhead in Abilene with 2,175 of the 2,250 head of cattle they started with. They sold for $32.50 per head. After paying off the cowboys, and withholding their fees, they had sixty thousand dollars remaining, which they took to the Bank of Abilene.
"Yes, sir, may I help you gentlemen?" a bank teller asked, flashing an officious smile.
"We would like to arrange a wire transfer of some money," Cade said.
"Oh, well, our Mr. Broome handles such things," the teller said.
Broome was a very slender man with a closely cropped moustache under a small, narrow nose. So far during this cattle shipping season, he had arranged the transfer of over a million dollars, so he handled the procedure quickly and efficiently.
The money went directly to Linus Puckett, to be distributed by him to the other cattlemen who had contributed cows to make up the herd.
From the bank, Cade and Jeter went to the Western Union Office to send a telegram back to Puckett.
NET FUNDS OF SIXTY THOUSAND DOLLARS SENT TO YOU BY WIRE STOP JETER AND I HAVE URGENT BUSINESS THAT PREVENTS OUR IMMEDIATE RETURN STOP BOO ROLLINS AND TIM PONDER TO RETURN HORSES STOP WILL REMAIN IN ABILENE UNTIL WE HEAR FROM YOU CADE McCALL.
From their own pockets, Cade and Jeter paid Boo Rollins and Tim Ponder an additional one hundred dollars apiece to take the horses back.
Except for Boo and Tim, who got underway almost immediately, the other cowboys spent a few days in Abilene to unwind from the long, hard drive.
While Cade and Jeter were waiting for the reply from Puckett, they decided to have their lunch at Waggy’s Café, a place they knew well from previous visits to Abilene.
“Mr. McCall and Mr. Willis,” an attractive, middle-aged woman said, greeting them with a smile. “Welcome back.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Wagner.”
“That isn’t her name,” a gray-haired, dignified man said. “Her name is Billingsly.”
“George Billingsly,” Cade said with a smile. “So you married her, did you? Good for you, and congratulations. How is your newspaper doing?”
“My newspaper, and this café, are doing very well, thanks to you.”
Billingsly was talking about a previous visit to Abilene when Cade took on a man who was practically holding the town hostage. The despot was calling himself “Colonel” Dobson, but Cade recognized him as Albert Dolan, a man who had been in the Yankee prison, Camp Douglas with him. Dolan was not only not a colonel, he had also sold out his fellow prisoners, being the direct cause of the death of one of Cade's closest friends.
“Order what you will,” Billingsly said. “Speaking for my wife, I can tell you it’s on the
house.”
George and Millie Billingsly sat at the table with Cade and Jeter, visiting with them during the meal. The happy talk of their reunion changed, however, when Cade told them that his wife and another woman had been taken a few days ago.
“It has to be Indians,” Billingsly said. “There have been two or three bands causing trouble, lately. Enough so that the army has been sending patrols out to chase them down.”
As the discussion continued, a boy, wearing a hat with the words “Western Union” stepped into the café.
“Yes, Ronnie, are you looking for someone?” Millie asked, greeting the boy with a smile.
“Yes ma’am, I’ve got telegrams for Mr. McCall and Mr. Willis,” Ronnie replied.
“Telegrams? You mean more than one?” Cade asked.
“Yes, sir, there’s one for each of you,” Ronnie said.
"I wonder what that's about?" Jeter asked. "Why would they send a telegram to each of us?"
"Only one way to find out," Cade replied as he gave the boy a fifty-cent piece.
“Thank you, sir!” Ronnie said with a wide smile over the more than generous tip.
Cade read the telegram.
MONEY ARRIVED STOP CATTLEMEN PLEASED WITH RESULT OF SALE STOP GOOD JOB
Smiling, Cade looked over at Jeter, but when he saw the expression on his friend’s face, the smile disappeared.
“Jeter, what is it?”
“Pa,” Jeter said, handing the telegram to Cade.
REGRET TO INFORM YOU TITUS HATLEY DEAD STOP MARY GRAVELY ILL AND ASKING FOR YOU.
“I’ve got to get back home,” Jeter said. “I can’t go out looking with you. I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize, Jeter. I understand. Of course you need to get back to Mary.”
In calculating the fastest way to get back home, Jeter decided to take a train to St. Louis, then a riverboat to New Orleans and from there a steamship to Galveston.
"It'll take me a little over a week to get home," he said.
"Well, that's a lot faster than it took for us to get here," Cade replied. "I'm sorry about your Pa."
"He was a good man, taking me in like he did. I just hope Ma is still alive when I get there."
"I do too."
"And I hope you find Arabella and Maggie."
After telling Jeter goodbye, Cade returned to Wichita to speak with Marshal Walker.
"Sorry, Cade," Walker said. "I haven't heard a thing about the women."
"All right, thanks for trying," Cade replied, disappointed by the news. “I know you did everything you could.”
"Would you like a suggestion?" Walker asked.
“It depends on what the suggestion is. If you’re going to tell me to just go home and forget it, I'm sorry but I have no intention of doing that.”
“That is my suggestion,” Walker said. “Lots of young men like you have lost their wives.”
“I'm going to continue to search for Arabella until I find her, or until I find out what happened to her.”
Marshal Walker nodded. "I suppose if I were in your shoes, I'd be looking for her as well. All I can say is good luck."
Cade started his search by returning to where he had first seen the wrecked wagon. The wagon was gone, but he was able to locate where it had been by using triangulation between a copse of trees and a group of boulders. The accuracy of his positioning was validated by the remains of the four mules, their bones picked clean by vultures and wolves.
Dismounting, he stood there for a moment, trying to visualize what had happened, and which way they may have gone. South was Wichita, and north was Abilene. He was reasonably certain they didn't go in either of those directions.
That left east, and west. That he began his search by going west was an arbitrary decision.
After wandering around for nearly a month, Cade saw a building in front of him. It had been added on to so that lumber that appeared relatively fresh was next to weather-bleached, gray boards. A sign read:
MERRICK TRADING POST
GROCERIES, LIQUOR, GOODS
ROOMS, EATS
Merrick, Kansas
The inside of the store smelled of smoked meat, coffee beans, tobacco, and beer. A middle-aged woman, wearing a bonnet and an apron was sweeping the floor, and a man of approximately the same age was taking cans from a box and putting them on a shelf. Seeing that he had a customer, and still holding a can, he came over to greet him.
"Good afternoon," he said.
"Hello," Cade replied. He glanced at the can. "Peaches?"
"Yes, sir, Kinsett, the finest you can buy."
"I'll take that can right there," Cade said.
"Well, it'll save me having to put in on the shelf, won't it?" the man replied with a smile.
"This place is called Merrick? Reason I ask is I don't see Merrick anywhere on the map." Cade started to use his knife to open the peaches.
"I'm Jim Merrick, and this store is the town," he said. "Of course, I've not filed with Topeka, so this isn't an official town." Merrick reached for the can. "Here, no need for you to be usin' your knife. I've got a can opener."
"Thank you, Mr. Merrick. Cade McCall’s the name."
Opening the can, Merrick handed the peaches to Cade who drank the juice, then fished the peach halves from the can with his fingers.
"Oh, that's good," he said. "I've had nothing but jerky and rabbit for the last month."
"Just wanderin' around, are you?"
"Actually, I'm looking for a couple of women."
"A couple?" Merrick chuckled. "Most men have a hard enough time handling just one."
"One of the women is my wife. They were taken by someone."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Please forgive the joke, I didn't know."
Cade explained finding the overturned wagon, and the mule that had been shot.
"It was Indians," Merrick said, resolutely. "There's a band of 'em right now that's causin' all kinds of hell. They say the one that's leadin' 'em is called Standing Bear. Him 'n his bunch raided a farm some north of here just two weeks ago, 'n they took two young girls with 'em."
"Two weeks ago? I hadn't heard anything about that. But then, I haven't seen anyone, so there's no way I could have heard. Do you have any idea where the Indians might be?"
"No idea at all. Somewhere here in Kansas? Out in Colorado? Maybe, could even be down in The Nations."
"That's a pretty broad area."
"Let me ask you, Mr. McCall. If you find Standing Bear 'n his bunch, what, exactly is it that you're plannin' on doin'?"
"I'll be getting my wife back."
"They say that Standin' Bear has at least thirty bucks followin' 'im. You plan to go after 'em alone, do you?"
"I'm going to get my wife back," Cade said resolutely. He didn't respond directly to Merrick's question.
23
Cade had been searching for Arabella and Maggie for two months without even turning up a lead, other than that Jim Merrick had given him a month earlier. He had to give up the search, at least temporarily, because the weather was getting colder, and he had no winter gear. He hadn’t brought a coat with him, because he didn’t expect to still be in Kansas this late in the year. He thought he would be back down to Jackson County, Texas by now. Instead, he headed for Wichita.
There was a chill in the air as he rode down Douglas Street, stopping in front of Marshal Walker’s office. When he stepped inside, the first thing he did was step over to the little stove and hold his hands out over the heat.
"You look like you could use this," Marshal Walker said, handing him a cup of coffee.
"Yeah, thanks."
"No need to ask you if you've had any luck.”
Cade took a swallow of coffee before he replied, then he wrapped his hands around the cup, enjoying the warmth. “I’m pretty sure my wife and Maggie were taken by Indians.”
“What makes you think that? When you were with the posse and you shot Eagle Claw—didn’t he tell you they didn’t have any white women? Bein
’ as he was dyin', I tend to believe 'im."
"I believed him as well. But I talked to a store keep and a couple of farmers, and they told me about a band of Indians led by someone called Standing Bear."
"Standing Bear," Walker said. "Yeah, I got some information on him from the army at Fort Harker. He’s been known to cause some trouble, lately. Do you know where he is?"
"No, but I pretty much know where he isn't. I've searched all of central Kansas. I don't have any idea where he is."
"I think you should go to Fort Harker."
"The army?"
"I told you how Custer and the 7th rescued those ladies at Washita."
"You're thinking I should ask Custer to help me?"
"Well, not Custer. The Seventh has gone to Kentucky. But rescuing white women, that's been somethin' the army’s good at."
Fort Harker was used to protect the construction crews of the Kansas Pacific railway. But the railroad construction had nearly reached Denver, and there was little use for it now. As a result, only a company-sized unit remained, and it was under the command of Lieutenant Dwayne Metzger.
“I don’t know,” Metzger said. “You see how many men I’ve got here. My job is to close the post down. I have no authority to send men out into the field, looking for Indians.”
“We won’t be looking for Indians, Lieutenant, we’ll be looking for my wife,” Cade said.
“How long have you been looking for her?” Metzger asked.
“A little over two months.”
Metzger shook his head. “I hate to tell you this, Mr. McCall, but if the Indians have had your wife for two months, the chances are likely that she isn’t even alive anymore. And if she’s alive then I don’t see how you would ever want her back, because any decent woman would have killed herself by now.”
Cade glared at the young lieutenant. “Were you in the war, lieutenant?”
“No, the war was over by the time I got my commission. But what does being in the war have to do with anything?”
“Because I killed a lot of men wearing the same uniform you are wearing. It’s too damn bad you weren’t one of them.”
The Western Adventures of Cade McCall Box Set Page 38