The Western Adventures of Cade McCall Box Set

by Robert Vaughan

  Spotted Wolf shook his head. “Look, the women. They miss you. Come, we eat.”

  Spotted Wolf took them to his own teepee where his wife, Quiet Stream, had a hump of buffalo roasting over an open fire. She had wild onions charring in the coals as she made fry bread on a hot stone.

  When the two men sat down with Spotted Wolf, they eagerly ate the food.

  “Very good,” Cade said, and even though Quiet Stream spoke no English, she knew she had been complimented, and she beamed, proudly.

  “I didn’t see my old . . . friend . . . Waquini,” Cade said. He set the word “friend” apart from the rest of the sentence so Spotted Wolf would know that it was in jest.

  “Waquini has much dishonor,” Spotted Wolf said. “Waquini led five of our young on a war path that did not end well. They went to a house near the border to steal some horses, but the man had many men with him. When Waquini returned, it was without horses, and with only two others.”

  “I’m sorry for the loss of your young men,” Cade said. “But maybe by now, if Waquini’s medicine is broken, perhaps he won’t be able to get any more warriors to follow him.”

  “Waquini believes that his medicine was broken when you took his honor,” Spotted Wolf said. “He believes he cannot get it back until he has killed you.”

  “Damn, he still wants to kill me, huh?”

  “It is how his medicine will return,” Spotted Wolf said.

  “Where is he now? We need to get this settled. Is he in the village?”

  “When he learned you come.” Spotted Wolf flung out his arm. “He go.”

  18

  Cade and Jacob had spent the night on Mulberry Creek about eight miles south of Dodge City, and now they were having a breakfast of biscuits, bacon, and coffee. They could have pushed on into town the night before, but if they had it would have been after midnight before they would have reached Dodge. Now, they would arrive before noon, well rested after the two weeks they had been out on the road.

  “I’ll be damn glad to get back,” Jacob said. “If we own this outfit, why is it we’re the ones out here sleeping on the ground?”

  “I don’t mind,” Cade said.

  “Of course you don’t” Jacob said. “All you do is work. You should find you a good woman.”

  “You mean like Katherine Markley,” Cade joked. “I see you going over to Charlie Rath’s house all the time.”

  “Miss Markley is visiting her cousin, and I want her to feel welcomed in Dodge City.”

  “Sure you do. You just don’t want her going back to Ohio.”

  “McCall! McCall!”

  The shout came from down the road, and when they looked they saw someone galloping toward them.

  “What the . . . look it’s an Indian,” Jacob said.

  “It’s Spotted Wolf!” Cade said, standing and stepping out into the road.

  “Spotted Wolf, over here!” Cade shouted, waving his arms.

  Spotted Wolf maintained a gallop until he reached their camp, then he leaped down. “It is Waquini!”

  “Waquini?”

  “Before you leave village, Waquini go away. He will wait for you and from hiding he will kill you,”

  “Where do you think he is now?”

  Before Spotted Wolf could respond to Cade’s question, there was the crack of a rifle shot.

  “Uhh!” Spotted Wolf said, as a bullet hole appeared in his left shoulder.

  “Down, get down!” Cade shouted, and he pushed Spotted Wolf to the ground. Jacob needed no further encouragement; he was down as quickly as Cade and Spotted Wolf.

  “Do you see him?” Cade asked.

  “No,” Jacob answered.

  “The shot came from our left.” Cade said. “He must be in that grove of trees.”

  There was another shot, and the bullet hit the campfire, sending up a little shower of sparks. This time Cade saw the puff of smoke, and he had Waquini located.

  “Jacob, I know where he is.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t want him to see me point. You and Spotted Wolf get behind the wagon. That’ll get you out of the line of fire.”

  “And what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to give Waquini his honor back.”

  “What?”

  “Please, Jacob, just get behind the wagon, and no matter what you see, or think you see, pay no attention to it. Stay back there. He doesn’t want you, he wants me.”

  “All right,” Jacob said, reluctantly.

  “Remember, don’t pay any attention to what you think you see.”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re up to.”

  Cade gave a small, self-deprecating chuckle. “Yeah, that’s the problem. I’m not sure I know either.”

  Cade waited until Jacob and Spotted Wolf were safely behind the wagon.

  “Waquini, you son of a bitch!” Cade shouted. “I’m coming to get your ass!”

  Cade stood up, then started running toward the trees where he had seen the puff of smoke. He felt his muscles tensing, and his heart was in his throat as he realized the danger to which he was exposing himself. Then with every nerve in his body screaming, he jumped to one side, just as Waquini’s rifle barked again.

  “Uhhng!” Cade called out, and with his hands outstretched, he fell face down.

  “Cade!” Jacob shouted. “He got him! Waquini shot him!”

  Jacob started to get up, but Spotted Wolf reached out to pull him back.

  “No, McCall say stay.”

  Waquini appeared from behind the trees, and he stared at the body lying on the ground some fifty yards in front of him. The body lay absolutely motionless.

  “You are dead!” Waquini shouted. “My enemy is dead!”

  Waquini began shouting and dancing as he approached the body. Then when he reached the spot where Cade was he put down his rifle and pulled his knife to take the scalp.

  “Not today,” Cade said, rolling over with the gun in his hand. He pulled the trigger, and a hole appeared in Waquini’s forehead, just above his eyes that were open wide in shock.

  “Cade! Cade, were you hit?” Jacob shouted, jumping up from the wagon and running toward him.

  Cade laughed. “I told you not to pay any attention to whatever you thought you saw.”

  While Cade and Jacob were standing there, looking down at Waquini’s body, Spotted Wolf came up to join them. Spotted Wolf was holding his hand over the bullet wound in his shoulder.

  “He died with honor,” Spotted Wolf said. “His spirit will be happy.”

  “Let’s get the team in harness,” Cade said. “We need to get Spotted Wolf to the fort and see what the doc can do to get him fixed up.”

  “Doc Tremaine’s not there. Remember he’s at Fort Leavenworth right now,” Jacob said.

  “Then we’ll take him to the apothecary. Herman Fringer’s almost as good as a doctor,” Cade said. “I know he can take a bullet out because I’ve seen him do it.”

  “The wagon’s pretty light right now,” Jacob said. “It won’t kill the mules to run them all out, at least for part of the way.”

  They covered the remaining eight miles in just under an hour. When they reached town they crossed the railroad on Fourth Avenue, then turned right, whereupon Cade urged the mules into a gallop for the three blocks down the street to Fringer’s Drug Store.

  The entry into town of a freight wagon at full gallop was unusual enough to garner the attention of the two score and more pedestrians who were going about their business. When they reached Fringer’s apothecary, Cade hauled back on the reins as Jacob put his foot on the brake lever. The wagon slid to a stop, then was engulfed in the dust cloud that had been raised by its rapid passage down the dirt street.

  Cade climbed out over the front wheel, then reached up to help Spotted Wolf down. The bleeding looked like it had stopped, but not before soaking Spotted Wolf’s left shirtsleeve with blood.

  “Hey!” someone shouted. Looking toward the man who yelled, Cade saw
that it was a buffalo hunter. He saw too, by the expression on the hunter’s face, that it wasn’t a friendly hail.

  “What’s that redskin son of a bitch doin’ in town? That bastard killed my sister and her family.”

  “How’d you know it’s the same one?” another asked.

  “It don’t make no never mind. Theys all the same. I said I was gonna kill the next Injun I run acrost, and that’n the one.”

  A few more men came out of the Devil’s Den, and they started moving up the street toward the drug store.

  “Cade!” someone called. “In here, quick!”

  Cade recognized a familiar voice and when he looked up, he saw Jeter standing there, holding the door open.

  “In here!” Jeter said again, motioning to him.

  Cade, Spotted Wolf and Jacob hurried across the porch and into the drugstore, managing to do so before any of the approaching men arrived. Jeter slammed and locked the door behind them, just as the mob got there. Several men began banging on the door outside.

  “You sure you seen a Injun?” someone asked.

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “I didn’t see no Injun.”

  “I see ‘im,” the buffalo hunter insisted.

  “Turn that Injun out!” someone shouted.

  “We got a rope here, we’re fixin’ to hang the son of a bitch!” another shouted.

  “Give us the Injun!”

  “You can’t keep that redskin bastard in there forever!” an angry voice shouted from outside. “We’ll just wait ‘til you have to come out!”

  “What happened to him? Did you shoot him?” Jeter asked, nodding toward Spotted Wolf.

  “No,” Cade answered. “He got shot saving my life. You’ve got to take care of him, Doc.”

  “I’m not a doctor, McCall,” Fringer said.

  “We all know that, but you’re the best we’ve got,” Jacob said. “Do whatever you can do.”

  “Take his shirt off,” Fringer said.

  “Send that redskin bastard out here!”

  “We ain’t a’ goin’ to wait all day!”

  The last shout was accompanied by more banging on the door.

  Spotted Wolf stripped out of his shirt and Herman Fringer put on a pair of spectacles, and examined the wound.

  “It’s there, but it’s not too deep,” Fringer said. “I should be able to get it out.”

  Fringer got a pan of soapy water and washed off the shoulder, disclosing a dark hole. Using a probe, he soon had the bullet out.

  Spotted Wolf had no reaction to what had to be the painful digging for the bullet.

  Fringer picked up a bottle of alcohol. “This is going to sting a might,” he said as he poured alcohol on the wound.

  Again, Spotted Wolf had no reaction.

  The banging on the door got louder.

  “If you don’t turn that Injun sumbitch out into the street, we’re goin’ to come in there after ‘im!”

  “How much longer will that door keep them out?” Jacob asked.

  “I’m afraid it’s not that strong. If they decide to break it down, it’ll be an easy task,” Fringer said.

  “Maybe we can go out through the back,” Jacob suggested.

  Fringer shook his head. “I don’t have a back door in this place. Never did feel the need to have one.”

  “Well then, gentlemen, I would say that leaves us in a bit of a pickle,” Jacob said.

  “I know what we can do,” Jeter suggested. He pointed to the wall. “I live in quarters behind the harness shop, and we share this same wall. We can go through into my place, then board up the wall behind us and nobody will know what happened.”

  `“What about Magnolia and your ma? Won’t they get scared when somebody starts tearing down the wall of their house?” Cade asked.

  “When we get the first board down, I’ll yell and they’ll know it’s me,” Jeter said.

  It took no more than five minutes to get enough of the boards down to allow both Jeter and Spotted Wolf to pass through. It took less time to get the boards back in place, and even the most careful observation offered no hint of what had just been done.

  “What do we do now?” Fringer asked.

  Cade looked at Jacob, and smiled. “You want to give up that shirt?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re the one who was wounded.”

  The left sleeve of Jacob’s shirt was torn off, then Fringer put a bandage around his arm, just below the shoulder. Some of Spotted Wolf’s blood was smeared onto the outside of the bandage.

  Jacob had his hand clasped over his “wound” when three men crashed through the door.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Cade asked. “The door was locked for a reason.”

  “Keep it as clean as you can, so that it doesn’t get infected,” Fringer said, loudly enough for the others to hear. “You don’t want gangrene to set in.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” Jacob replied in a strained voice.

  “Here!” Luke Slater said. Luke had joined the unruly group. “What’s going on here?”

  “What does it look like? The doc’s gone from out at the fort, and Herman here just took a bullet out of his shoulder,” Cade said. “It’s bad enough Jacob got shot by an Indian. He doesn’t need the wound made worse by the likes of you men crowding in here.”

  “Where’s the Injun?” the buffalo hunter who had started the demonstration demanded.

  “He’s lying dead just this side of Mulberry Creek. I shot him, soon as he put a bullet into Jacob,” Cade said.

  “You ignorant fool, I mean the Injun you brung into town. The one you was helpin’ down from the wagon.”

  Cade shook his head. “What kind of whiskey are you serving over there, Slater? Whatever it is, it’s either made this man blind, or crazy.” He looked directly at the buffalo hunter. “The wounded man you saw me help down from the wagon is Jacob Harrison, and here he is.”

  “You’re a’ lyin’!” the buffalo hunter said.

  Cade glared at the man. “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “The name’s Kirk Jordan, if it’s any of your business.”

  “Well, Mr. Jordan, when someone accuses me of lying, I make it my business. Whatever Indian you think you saw, isn’t here.”

  “The hell he ain’t! I seen ‘im, I tell you.”

  “Are you sure ‘bout that, Jordan? ‘Cause you’re the only one who seen ‘im,” Slater said.

  “That ain’t true,” Jordan replied. He pointed to the man who had come up, first. “Wiley, he seen ‘im too.”

  Wiley shook his head. “No, now I didn’t actual see no Injun, seein’ as they run into the drugstore so fast that they was gone by the time I got here.”

  “Gentlemen, as you can clearly see,” Fringer said, “this is the wounded man McCall brought in for my attention.”

  “He’s in here!” Jordan shouted. “That Injun sumbitch is in here someplace, on account of I seen ‘im with my own eyes.”

  “What about we search your place, Fringer?” Wiley asked.

  “You’ve got no right to search my business,” Fringer said.

  “There you go! I told you that Injun’s in here. That’s why he says we can’t search his place.”

  “Well, we’ll just see about that. Come on boys, let’s have us a look at . . . the apothecary,” Wiley said.

  “No!” Fringer protested.

  Despite the protest, the angry mob swarmed into the store, forcing Cade, Jacob, and Fringer out front.

  “Good move, protesting like that,” Cade said quietly. “When they don’t find anything, they’ll quit searching.”

  “I just hope they don’t wreck the place. I’ve got a lot of glass in there.”

  A few minutes later, the men came outside.

  “There ain’t nobody there! Not a trace of ‘im,” someone shouted.

  “I’m tellin’ you, I seen ‘im go in there!” Jordan said.

  “Yeah? Well there ain’t no one in there now,” Wiley
said. “And there ain’t no way anyone could a got out.”

  “The Injun went out the back,” Jordan insisted. “I know he did.”

  “He can’t,” Wiley said. “You seen for yourself, there ain’t no back door to the place. And they don’t have no window light in the back either.”

  “Let’s leave this old coot alone,” someone said. “Jordan, you owe us a drink.” Grumbling, and confused, the mob returned to the Devil’s Den.

  19

  Cade and Jacob took the wagon back to their office, then later, when both Front Street and Tin Pot Alley were clear, Cade and Jacob went around back to knock on the door to Jeter’s house. Jeter opened it with a huge smile.

  “How’d it go?”

  “Perfect,” Cade replied. “That was a great idea you had. Oh, and thanks for letting us in the drugstore.”

  “I heard the wagon coming down the street on the run, and when I saw it was you, I knew you had some trouble.”

  “I was surprised to see you at the drug store. I thought you were working at the Dodge House.”

  “Ma’s arthritis is kicking up a bit—it’s her knee this time,” Jeter said. “Herman was grinding up some powders for her.”

  “Do you know what’s just happened here?” Jacob asked.

  “What’s that?” Jeter asked.

  “You two. You’re talking just like two normal people would talk to one another.”

  Jeter smiled. “I guess that’s right.”

  “Jeter . . .” there was a long pause before Cade spoke. “Can this . . . war that’s been going on between us be over?”

  “Do you want it to be over?”

  “Yeah, well, more than I want a stick poked in my eye,” Cade replied with a broad grin.

  Jeter laughed, then stuck out his hand. “All right, the war has ended. But,” he added, lifting his finger. “I still reserve the right to poke you in the eye with a stick.”

  “Do you mind if I. . .” Cade started, but Jeter interrupted him in mid-sentence.

  “See Chantal?”

  “Yeah, I’d really like to see her.”

  Jeter went to a side room, and soon came out with a child that looked as if she had just been awakened. She had her arms wound around his neck.