Stranglehold

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Stranglehold Page 24

by William W. Johnstone


  A few of the citizens of the town did notice, however, and when Duff held his finger to his lips to ask that they remain quiet, they nodded in the affirmative. They watched silently as Duff, Elmer, and Wang stepped right up behind the six men.

  “Would ye be for telling me, lads, what ye might be looking at?” Duff asked in a conversational tone of voice.

  “What?” one of the men said. As he turned, Duff took him down with a smashing blow to the chin.

  The other cannoneer took a right to the jaw.

  As Duff was dealing with the two men at the gun nearest him, Elmer and Wang were taking care of the other four. Elmer used the butt of his pistol, Wang used the side of his hand. Within seconds all six men were on the ground.

  “Have ye a jail in town?” Duff asked one of the onlookers.

  “Yeah, damn right we got one. ’N some of our people’s in there now that ought not to be.”

  “Let them out and put these men in,” Duff ordered, removing the pistols from the unconscious cannoneers and passing them out to some of the citizens of the town.

  “Yes, sir!” the man replied with a smile.

  “We must work quickly, lads,” Duff said as he pulled a narrow, barbed, steep spike from his pocket. Elmer and Wang had similar instruments and, within seconds the touch holes of the cannons, by which the powder was ignited, were sealed shut, rendering the cannons impossible to fire.

  No more than fifteen minutes later Duff, Elmer, and Wang had rejoined the Home Guard.

  “Captain Morley, the enemy guns are spiked,” Duff said. “We can begin to move forward now.”

  “Yes, sir!” Morley replied. “We’ll move forward by wings. Right wing advance one hundred yards, then go to ground and hold.”

  With a challenging roar that came deep from their throats, ten men from the extreme right side of the position got up and, covered by the gunfire of the other two thirds, rushed forward for one hundred yards, then fell into the prone position.

  “Second element advance!” Morley called, and ten men from the middle started forward, their advance covered by fire from the other two elements. In less than one minute, the entire Home Guard had moved one hundred yards closer to the town.

  * * *

  “All right. This is what we have been waiting for. They are within range now!” Schofield shouted. “Bring up the artillery loaded with grape!”

  “The cannons can’t be used, Prime Director,” Lieutenant Fillion said a moment later.

  “What do you mean, they can’t be used?” Schofield asked, spittle flying from his lips as he shouted the question in rage.

  “The guns have been spiked.”

  “Spiked? Who the hell spiked them?”

  “I don’t know. The men we left behind to man the guns? They’re gone.”

  “We have been betrayed!”

  A bullet flew by Schofield’s ear, passing by so closely that it made a loud pop. Looking back, he saw that the attacking Home Guards had moved still closer.

  “General Peterson and Lieutenant Fillion, come with me,” Schofield ordered.

  Peterson left the line.

  To First Sergeant Cobb, Schofield said, “General Peterson, Lieutenant Fillion, and I are going to have an officers’ conference to decide how best to respond to this situation. You will be in command until I return. Do all you can to stop any farther advance until we come back with a plan of operation.”

  “Yes, sir,” Cobb replied. “Uh, Prime Director, you better come up with something quick. I don’t know how much longer we can hold ’em off.”

  “You let me worry about that, First Sergeant,” Schofield said. “You are bordering on insubordination.”

  “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” Cobb said contritely.

  “Gentlemen,” Schofield said to Peterson and Fillion. “Come with me. We had better hurry.”

  Schofield trotted back into town, away from the forward line of resistance, followed by Peterson and Fillion. Schofield led them into the livery barn.

  “Colonel Fillion, saddle our three horses,” Schofield ordered as they stepped into the barn.

  “I beg your pardon, sir. Did you say Colonel Fillion?”

  “I did. The battle here is lost, but the war for an independent nation isn’t lost. I intend to build another army, and I will build it around my two most loyal officers, General Peterson and Colonel Fillion. In order to do so, we must abandon the field now, so we can start anew. Saddle the horses.”

  “Yes, sir!” Fillion said, enthusiastically.

  “Prime Director, when you say abandon the field, you mean abandon the men?”

  “I do mean that, General. Do you have an objection?”

  Peterson smiled. “No, sir, I have no objections. I just hope they can hold them off long enough for us to make a clean getaway.”

  A moment later Fillion brought the three saddled horses over.

  “Gentlemen,” Schofield said as he swung into the saddle. “Let’s ride!” He dug his spurs into the horse’s flanks deeply enough to bring blood. The horse sprang forward at a gallop.

  Peterson and Fillion, surprised by Schofield’s sudden exit, moved quickly so as not to be left behind.

  * * *

  “What the hell?” one of the men in the defensive line shouted. “Cobb, look!” He pointed at the three galloping horses.

  “What is this? What’s going on here?” Cobb asked, shocked by the sight.

  “I’ll tell you what’s goin’ on. They’re leavin’ us here to fight ’n die for ’em.”

  “No, they ain’t,” Cobb said.

  “What do you mean, they ain’t? You see ’em runnin’ away same as I do.”

  “I seen ’em run away, all right, but we ain’t goin’ to fight ’n die for ’em. Who’s got a white shirt?”

  “A white shirt? What do you want a white shirt for?”

  “I want to use it as a white flag. We’re surrenderin’.”

  * * *

  “Duff, lookie there. They’re wavin’ a white flag,” Elmer said.

  “Aye, so ’twould appear,” Duff said. “Captain Morley, come with me. We’ll see what this is about. Elmer, if this be a trick . . .”

  “You don’t need to worry none about that, Duff. If it is a trick, there won’t a damn one of ’em live to see the sun set tonight.”

  Duff and Morley started toward the town as two men in uniform came toward them. One of them was carrying the white flag, and the other had sergeant’s stripes. They held no weapons.

  “This here ain’t no parley,” said the one with sergeant’s stripes. “I’m First Sergeant Cobb, ’n this here is a surrender. We’re givin’ up, all of us.”

  “Schofield sent a sergeant out to surrender?” Morley asked.

  Cobb shook his head. “No, Schofield don’t know nothin’ about it.”

  “Excuse me, Sergeant, but if Schofield knows nothing about it, how are we to accept this surrender as binding for your entire army?” Duff asked.

  “On account of I’m in charge of the whole army,” Cobb replied. “Schofield ’n the other two that was with ’im has run away ’n left us here.”

  Duff turned back toward Elmer and the troops of the Antelope Wells’ Home Guard. “Elmer! Bring the lads up.”

  A minute later every man of the Home Guard had advanced and stood in a long rank, facing the defenders.

  “Now, First Sergeant Cobb, if ye would please, tell your men to lay down their arms and advance toward us with their hands raised high into the air,” Duff ordered.”

  Meekly, the remaining troops of what had once been the formidable army of Schofield’s Legion put down their weapons and advanced as ordered.

  From the Antelope Wells Standard:

  VICTORY

  BY CLINT H. DENHAM

  Were we a nation at war, bells would toll across the nation. When the insurrection of the Southern States was put down, the great cities of the North rejoiced, and in time, so too did the errant sisters of the South take heart in once more bei
ng reunited as one nation. When the despot Napoleon was defeated and all Europe freed from his megalomaniacal ambition, the capitals of the Old World shouted hallelujah for their deliverance.

  So too it is with Antelope Wells and the other municipalities of the Bootheel of New Mexico. Once again the citizens of Hachita, Le Tenja, and Cottonwood Springs may breathe the air of freedom. And though we of Antelope Wells never lost our freedom, we were faced with the fear of war and the attendant loss of life and destruction of property.

  We were spared all of that by the bravery of our Home Guard, and the brilliant leadership of Duff MacCallister and our own General Lucien Bogardus Culpepper.

  Let there be dancing in the streets! Schofield has been defeated, and the war has been won!

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Although the message from Angus Pugh had indicated that the cabin would be abandoned, it looked quite substantial, standing just at the base of Pyramid Mountain.

  “Prime Director, that cabin doesn’t look abandoned to me,” Fillion said.

  “It doesn’t look that way to me, either,” Peterson added. “You don’t think it’s a trick, do you? Luring us into an ambush?”

  “I see no horses in the lean-to stable,” Schofield said.

  “They could be hidden in one of these draws. Might I suggest that you stay back, while Lieutenant Fillion and I check it out?”

  “Colonel Fillion,” Fillion said.

  “Colonel Fillion,” Peterson corrected. “You go around the left side, taking a close look at everything you can see, and I’ll do the same thing on the right side. We’ll meet behind the cabin and approach it from the rear.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Schofield dismounted and found a rock outcropping that was at just the right height for sitting. He sat there and watched as Peterson and Fillion conducted their scout, moving carefully to either side of the cabin.

  How had this happened? He was so close to establishing his personal fiefdom. Now he had been reduced to only two men, and they were scouting a cabin in the middle of nowhere. Had Angus Pugh set him up for an ambush? Who was Angus Pugh, anyway? And what did he mean when he’d said that we would discuss our future options?

  Obviously he intended to cut himself in as a full partner.

  “Mr. Pugh, whoever you are, I appreciate the help, and I will use you in whatever capacity I can,” Schofield said aloud. “But disabuse yourself of any idea that you and I will ever be equal partners.”

  “Come ahead!” Peterson called from the front door of the cabin. “It’s all clear!”

  * * *

  As invited by the Antelope Wells Standard, the town of Antelope Wells held a victory celebration that involved just about every citizen of the town. Tables set up along Cactus Street were filled with fried chicken, roast beef, pork chops, an assortment of vegetables, as well as pies and cakes. The children, happy to be outside without fear, darted in and out among the tables. There was laughter among the adults, too, as the tension had been lifted from their shoulders.

  “I’ll tell you the truth, Mayor,” C. D. Matthews said. “When you said you were going to ask someone you had known back in Scotland to come down and give us a hand, I thought you had gone plumb loco. But Mr. MacCallister did a bang-up job. Why, he not only protected Antelope Wells, he wound up freeing the entire Bootheel. You know what you should do? You should send a letter off to the governor asking him to recognize MacCallister in some way. After all, you are both writers, at least for the newspapers. Why I bet he would listen to you.”

  “C.D. ’tis pleased I am to say that I have already done that. And I know that ’tis a welcome relief for him, for how can a governor not be concerned when someone tries to carve off a big piece of the territory?”

  “I wonder, though, if we may not be celebrating too soon?” General Culpepper asked.

  “Why do ye say that, General?” Sheriff Campbell asked.

  “I say that because the rapscallion who was the cause of it all is still free to work his evil. Yes, we have seventeen of his men spread out in jails from Hachita to La Tenja, to Cottonwood Springs to here, but the deranged man who started it all is still free.”

  Sheriff Campbell laughed. “I would nae worry about Schofield, General. I think he has learned his lesson when it came to dealing with us. If he still has it in mind to be for building his own country, he’ll nae be trying it here, anymore.”

  “Perhaps you’re right, Sergeant Major,” Duff said. “But the general is correct when he says that the evil brigand is still out there, and even if he does nae try it here again, he may well try it somewhere else.”

  “Aye, perhaps that is so,” Campbell said. “But I cannae help but feel glad that he’ll nae be our problem again.”

  As the celebration continued, Morley and Ethel Marie came up to see Duff. Both were wearing big smiles.

  “General MacCallister?”

  “Here, now, Mr. Morley. The war’s over, and I am nae longer a general.” Duff laughed. “And if truth be told, I never really considered myself to hold such a rank in the first place. Not like General Culpepper, who earned his rank by education and his leadership during war.”

  “Yes, sir, well, I figured you was a general, ’n so did all the boys. But the reason I’m comin’ up to you like this is . . . well—” He stopped in midsentence and looked at Ethel Marie.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Chris. If you won’t ask him, I will. Mr. MacCallister, what Chris is trying to say is, we’re going to get married tomorrow. And seeing as my father lives many miles from here, and I have no folks that live anywhere close by, I would consider it a huge favor if you would give away the bride in the ceremony.”

  “Aye, lass, I would consider that to be a high honor, and would be proud to be a surrogate for your father.”

  * * *

  The public victory celebration continued through the rest of the day. A quieter one, attended by Duff, Meagan, Elmer, Wang, General Culpepper, Lucy, and Mayor McGregor, was held that night at Bear Tracks Restaurant.

  “Leftenant Colonel, I would be asking ye a question.” Duff had a noticeable change in his demeanor from what had been celebratory to one of some disquiet.

  “Aye, Captain. Is there something that ye find concerning?” McGregor asked, having picked up the subtle change in his facial expression.

  “Ye recall that Wang sneaked into Cottonwood Springs and heard Schofield read a note that warned of our attack?”

  “Aye, that I recall.”

  “I think ye should hear the note,” Duff said. “Wang, would ye be for telling us what ye heard?”

  Wang repeated the note, speaking the words in a monotone voice indicative of having memorized them. “MacCallister and the Home Guard he has assembled are making plans to free the Bootheel. To that end, they intend to attack you in Cottonwood Springs and destroy the legion. The note was signed Angus Pugh.”

  “Angus Pugh?” McGregor said. “Wait a minute. Are you certain that the person who wrote the note signed it as Angus Pugh?”

  “Yes,” Wang replied.

  “But I don’t understand. That is impossible. There is nae such person as Angus Pugh.”

  “Mayor, I have just finished reading Pirates at Ebb Tide,” Meagan said. “It is a wonderful book.”

  “Then ye know that Angus Pugh is but a character in a novel. He is nae a real person.”

  “Aye,” Duff said, answering for Meagan.

  “Captain MacCallister! Surely, sir, ye were nae suspecting me of being the traitor?”

  “I must confess, Leftenant Colonel, that upon hearing the name of the brigand who has betrayed us was Angus Pugh, and knowing that ye created the name in one of your books, I was given pause. But I also knew that ye were nae the treasonous one.”

  McGregor sat for a moment in silent contemplation before he responded. “How do ye know?”

  “Because I know you, and I know ye are not the kind of person who would betray your principles.”

  “I thank ye for
your confidence,” McGregor said.

  “But we are left with an obvious conclusion,” Meagan said. “The traitor is someone who has stolen the name from your novel. Have you any idea how many have read your book?”

  McGregor gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “Och, my dear, I wish I could say everyone in town read it. But I’m afraid—’twas very few who did.”

  “If we can find out who read it, then we’ll find our traitor from among that group,” Duff said.

  “That should be fairly easy to do,” Meagan suggested. “How would someone get the book?”

  “They can buy the book at Fahlkoff’s Book and Stationery Store. Of course, they can check it out from the library.”

  “Library? I was nae aware that the town had a library,” Duff said.

  “’Tis a small one, maintained by the school,” McGregor replied.

  “Well then, it will be easy to check with the library to see how many have taken the book.”

  “I know that at least five have been sold because I have autographed that many. Och, and they be friends all. I would nae like to think that our traitor would be one of them.”

  “I wonder, Charles, if I might make a suggestion,” General Culpepper said.

  “About finding the traitor?”

  “No, not about that. For the moment the traitor is unimportant because Schofield is no longer an immediate threat. Forgive me for the abrupt change of subject.”

  “Believe me, General, I welcome a change of subject, for talkin’ of a traitor using a name from m’ own novel is quite disconcerting. What would your suggestion be?”

  “My suggestion has to do with preventing Schofield or anyone else from being able to mount another significant campaign against us. That is, if you are open to such a recommendation from me.”

  McGregor chuckled. “Duff MacCallister gives you much credit for helping to save our town, and so do I. What have ye in mind?”

  “I think it would be a good idea if others would follow our example here, and organize Home Guard companies in every town in the Bootheel. Then you should contact your friend, the governor, and ask him to recognize the Home Guard companies as a regiment of the Territorial Militia, with Mr. Morley as its colonel.”

 

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