by J. T. Edson
‘It’s Mr. Plant calling from Austin, Mr. Softly,’ announced the female operator at the exchange in the town’s post office, without waiting for the man behind the bar to announce his identity. She had been informed of the instructions regarding the use of that particular telephone.
‘Gracias, Miz Berkley,’ Softly answered and, knowing that the caller was the confidential assistant to his genuine employer’s legal adviser, continued, ‘This may take some time. So, happen you-all’ve any shopping or chores to do, this’d be a good chance for you to do them.’
‘Well now,’ the woman replied, in a calculating tone and showing no surprise at the suggestion in spite of knowing her departure would leave the switchboard unattended by its official operator. ‘I was thinking I’d like to go along to the general store. They’ve the most darling hat there I’d just love to have, only I don’t reckon they’d hold it for me until I get my next pay check. So there’s no real point in me going, is there?’
‘There’s no reason why you shouldn’t go,’ Softly declared, being aware of what was expected of him. ‘Get the hat, happen you’re so minded, and tell them to charge it to the hotel.’
‘Why that’s right neighborly of you-all,’ the woman cooed, trying without any great success to sound as if she had not anticipated the offer would be made. ‘Just so long as it’s only a loan, mind. I’ll pay you back comes the end of the month.’
‘I know I can trust you to do just that,’ Softly declared, exuding such sincerity that he might have believed the repayment would be made. ‘You go and get that hat, Miz Berkley, it won’t take me more than five minutes and I’ll be through by the time you come back.’
‘Very well,’ the woman said. ‘I’ll put you-all through and go.’
‘All right,’ Softly announced, having watched through the window of the barroom which commanded a view of the post office across the street until the tall, angular, middle-aged exchange operator had emerged and walked off in the direction of the general store. As the telephone was only used for calls of a highly confidential nature, he was grateful for having found her so willing to desert her duties when he had broached the subject on his arrival in Grouperville. So, as on previous occasions, he had had no hesitation over authorizing her to charge a purchase to the hotel even though he knew the money would never be refunded. He considered it was a small price to pay for ensuring privacy during the conversation which was about to take place. ‘Go ahead. She’s left.’
‘I’ve just been informed that Joel Meeker’s taking an interest in the story about there being gold in Brixton’s Canyon,’ Wilfred Plant obliged, in his nasal Mid-West accent and without any preliminary greeting. ‘What is more, he claims to have located the cousin who is the beneficiary of the will.’
‘He can’t have!’ Softly protested, knowing the man who had been named was one of the most unscrupulous financiers and speculators in Texas, but equally aware that there was no such person as Ebenezer Brixton’s long lost cousin.
‘I’m perfectly aware of that.’ Plant declared, with some impatience. ‘But, for obvious reasons, we can hardly come right out and say why it isn’t possible.’
‘I never thought your boss could!’ Softly answered, annoyed as on other occasions when they had conversed by the other’s attitude of condescension. ‘Thing being, what’s he figuring on doing about it?’
‘Mr. Mervyn was on vacation in New York when the news reached me, but he’s already cancelled it and is coming back,’ Plant replied stiffly, being equally disenchanted by the reminders that he was only the lawyer’s assistant; particularly as they were made by a man he considered to be a social and mental inferior. ‘The moment he arrives in Austin, he will apply for an injunction preventing any occupation of, or working on, the property until, as is stipulated in Brixton’s will, the identity of the claimant has been verified to his satisfaction.’
‘Which there’s no way it can be,’ Softly stated complacently.
‘Don’t be too sure of that,’ Plant warned, his tone brightening a little despite the context of the words. ‘If the need arose, we could supply somebody with sufficient documentary evidence to convince a court he was who he claimed to be, and Meeker has legal advisers who are almost as capable. So he’s sure to have done something along those lines.’
‘If his shysters are only almost as capable, why worry about them bringing out their proof?’ Softly challenged. ‘Seeing’s how you’re so much slicker, you should right easy be able, to show it’s a fake.’
‘I don’t doubt we can and will, if necessary!’ Plant asserted, his tone losing the pleasure it had acquired while he had considered he was proving the other man in error. ‘But Meeker appears to have anticipated the injunction will be imposed and has made arrangements for a clandestine preliminary investigation to be carried out before it takes effect. Possibly he wants to know whether it will be worthwhile before investing money in fighting a court action, should one become necessary, to prove his man’s identity. Whatever the reason, he’s hired and is sending a geologist to find out.’
‘Would that be Otis J. Hollingshead?’
‘Yes! But how did you know?’
‘He’s just now arrived and taken a room here,’ Softly explained, silently thanking providence for the cowhand having been present to make the identification.
‘You let him take a room at the hotel?’ Plant almost yelped.
‘I did!’ Softly declared with defiant finality, resenting the questioning of his actions by one whom he regarded as no more than a passer-on of messages.
‘Are you sure it is Hollingshead?’ Plant demanded.
‘He tried to make out he wasn’t,’ Softly answered, his voice expressing resentment at the continued doubting of his word. ‘But there was a cowhand in the bar who remembered him from when he was working for the Counter family—’
‘And you still let him—?’ Plant interrupted, wanting to fix the blame.
‘I didn’t find out who he was until after he’d gone to register and I hadn’t heard from you then, either,’ Softly put in. ‘But even if I’d known, I’d still’ve let him. That way makes it easier for us to keep an eye on him.’
‘I suppose you acted for the best,’ Plant conceded grudgingly, having no doubt that his employer would consider this to be the case. ‘Anyway, now he’s there, you’ll have to make sure he doesn’t start nosing around the canyon.’
‘Yeah. I’d sort of figured I’d have to. I’ll tell Healey to warn him the canyon’s private and posted land, so he’s to stay off.’
‘That won’t do. Even if Meeker hasn’t given him a letter of authority from the cousin, or some other document to offer what passes as a legal right to go there, having the sheriff warn him will make them sure there’s gold to be had there.’
‘Which being the case, I’ll just have to see he’s stopped some other way.’
‘There mustn’t be another killing!’ Plant warned hurriedly. ‘Hollingshead’s got important connections. He’s not just a no-account cowhand.’
‘I’d some notions on that score myself,’ Softly said dryly. ‘And I aim to have it fixed so it looks like it’s got nothing to do with what he’s come here for.’
‘I’m not sure I understand!’ Plant protested.
‘There’s no reason why you should,’ Softly countered, having been thinking fast he had decided what would offer a satisfactory solution. ‘But what I’ll do is make sure he’ll not be in any condition to go out there for at least a week. Only it’ll happen in a way that’ll look like an accident, not because somebody wants him stopped doing his work.’
‘How will you do it?’ Plant inquired.
‘You leave that to me,’ Softly commanded. ‘If he’s down for a week can your boss get that injunction slapped on before he’s back on his feet?’
‘It will be in effect by the end of the week at the latest,’ Plant promised. ‘Are you going to close down at the canyon, just in case you can’t stop him?’
�
��I can’t do that!’ Softly declared, finding the questioning of what was his responsibility growing increasingly distasteful. ‘There’s a collection being made tonight, so it’ll have to go through. Anyway, I’ll have a pillow put under his head by sundown.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘I’m sure! Miz Berkley’s coming back. Is there anything else?’
‘There’s nothing more at this end,’ Plant admitted. ‘But, whatever you do, make certain that—’
‘You make certain your boss gets that injunction and leave me to see Hollingshead can’t move before it’s on,’ Softly ordered and, despite realizing there were other points which should have been discussed, he hung up before the caller could reply.
Remembering comments which had suggested that other members at his level in Hogan Turtle’s organization found Plant’s pomposity as irritating as he did, Softly returned the telephone to its place of concealment and went to the street door. In spite of the reason he had given for terminating the conversation, Mrs. Berkley was only just leaving the general store when he stepped on to the sidewalk. He had not been able to see her at the time he was making the excuse. Nor, although he had made a mental note to tell the desk clerk to keep him informed of any telephone calls made or received by Hollingshead and intended to make a similar request to Mrs. Berkley which would cover the situation should contact be established off the premises, had he left the barroom to look for her. Instead, he was searching for the means by which he hoped to bring his scheme to fruition.
Apart from a dust-coated 1922 Duesenberg model-A two-seater sedan which Softly had never seen before standing unoccupied opposite the entrance to the lobby, no vehicles were parked in the vicinity of the hotel. Deciding the sedan must belong to Hollingshead, he gazed around. A grunt of annoyance broke from him as he discovered that Blood was already driving from the town in an open topped old car. As the cowhand had only arrived in Grouperville that morning, Softly had hoped to utilize his animosity towards the geologist to bring about the disablement in a manner which would lessen the chances of the real reason being suspected. Accepting this would not be possible and he must make use of somebody with closer connections, Softly returned the wave given by Mrs. Berkley and walked back into the barroom.
‘Hey, Miguel!’ Softly called, on reaching the counter and, when a voice from the kitchen behind it answered, went on, ‘Go and tell the sheriff to drop by and see me—!’
‘When do you want him to come, señor,’ the man in the kitchen put in.
‘Straight away,’ Softly stated in a manner which suggested he expected an immediate response to the summons. ‘When you’ve seen him, go find the Skinner boys and Fred Mulley. Tell them to get their butts around here pronto. I’ve got something for them to do.’
Watching Sergeant Jubal Branch climbing out of the battered-looking Ford Model T four-seater sedan and, followed by Lightning, cross the sidewalk towards the street door of Soskice’s Hotel’s barroom shortly before half past one, Alvin Fog felt a tingle of anticipation mingled with just a trace of apprehension. With his partner’s arrival in Grouperville, the time was at hand to continue with the plan outlined by Major Benson Tragg during the meeting at the ranch. So he turned from the window of the room he had been allocated on signing the register with a different name to that which Abel Softly had been given by the out of work cowhand. Nor had the latter been any more truthful, or accurate, when identifying himself as Dick Blood. In reality, he was Sergeant Mark Loncey Scrapton of the Texas Rangers and another member of Company “Z”.
Having been summoned by the State Attorney General—one of the few people who knew of Company “Z”s’ existence and purpose and shown the anonymous letter describing the mysterious aspects surrounding the death of the cowhand in the Badlands, the Major had stated his belief that, because of its connection with the other stories about Brixton’s Canyon being haunted—there had been foul play and not an accident. Accepting there was no legal way by which the truth could be ascertained, they had concluded the circumstances warranted the kind of independent and clandestine investigation for which the Company had been formed. It was, in fact, to serve as a proving ground to test their ability to perform the specialized duties which were envisaged.
Appreciating how the future of Company “Z” depended upon the outcome of their first official/unofficial operation, Tragg had set about preparing for it with a determination to do everything possible to ensure its success. He was helped in his planning by having some knowledge of conditions in Grouper County, especially with regards to the ownership of Soskice’s Hotel. Prior to taking up his new appointment, he had been working in conjunction with the Attorney General’s Department to try and bring about Hogan Turtle’s downfall. Their efforts had been without avail so far, but a reasonable quantity of data about the master criminal’s organization was in their possession. Making use of this, the Major had seen a way in which the investigation could be carried out. Displaying the aptitude which explained why he had been selected to command the unconventional law enforcement team, he had wasted no time in starting to collect the extra information and the means by which to send them into action.
A visit to the current head of the Counter family, an old and trusted friend, had produced the name of the most suitable specialist in the profession which formed a part of Tragg’s plans, and also secured a promise of any further cooperation that might be required. While one of Company “Z”s’ sergeants possessed the requisite physical attributes to pose successfully as the man in question—apart from his hair being the wrong color and that could be changed without difficulty—unless meeting close acquaintances, which was considered unlikely, he was the youngest and least experienced of them. However, having faith in Alvin Fog’s ability, the Major had not considered this would be detrimental to the conducting of the investigation. He was aware that pretending to be a geologist sent to make a secret examination of Brixton’s Canyon could put the small Texan in danger if his suspicions should prove correct, but he believed this could be reduced to an acceptable level. What was more, he considered the selection might prove beneficial. The successful conclusion of the assignment would remove any doubts or misgivings the other members of the Company were feeling over the newcomer’s inclusion in their number.
So effectively had Tragg carried out the ground work in Austin that, by the time he reached Company “Z”s’ secret headquarters, he was ready to lay a plan of campaign before his men. Furthermore, he had brought along everything they would require in order to put it into operation.
Noticing how much of the conversation about the events in and around Brixton’s canyon was being directed at him, Alvin had deduced that he was to play a leading role in whatever was forthcoming. So he was not surprised to learn this was the case, although he was impressed by the discovery of how much would be expected of him. The Major had pointed out the dangers involved, but he could not fault the precautions which were being taken to help him circumvent them. Nor had he had any doubts that he was being put to the most serious test he had yet faced. Not only would his conduct have a decisive effect upon the outcome, but his complete acceptance by the other sergeants hung in the balance and a successful conclusion would take him far towards attaining it.
Not only had the small Texan been given documents which would establish his pretended identity, unless they should be subjected to a far more extensive examination than would be likely under the circumstances, but he was supplied with suitable attire. A car had been hired in Otis J. Hollingshead’s name and the equipment a geologist would require to perform the kind of research which had, supposedly, taken Alvin to Grouperville was procured from the County family. It was sufficiently used to prevent the suspicion which might have fallen upon it if it had all been brand new. The suitcase in which he was transporting the tools of his temporary trade had a well concealed false bottom wherein reposed his armament. In addition to the two Colt Government Model automatic pistols, the shoulder holster, spare magazines and amm
unition, he had a Very pistol and half a dozen cartridges. [55] The automatics, the rig in which he could carry one of them and the boxes of bullets would not offer any clue as to his real identity if the suitcase should be searched and its secret discovered. Neither would the Very pistol, which was just as untraceable, be regarded as out of the ordinary as Rance M. Counter had said such a device was frequently owned by geologists as a means of signaling for help in case of emergency. However, as a precaution against such a contingency as a search of his room, the small Texan had his Texas Ranger’s identification card and badge hidden in the hollowed-out heels of the untanned boots he was wearing, a similar installation having been made to the footwear of every member of Company “Z”.
Apart from having Sergeant Frenchie Giradot’s wife dye Alvin’s hair blond, the Major had decided nothing further beyond wearing appropriate clothing and horn-rimmed spectacles was needed to disguise him. As Grouperville was neither a mining town, nor in a region which produced or might have deposits of oil awaiting discovery, it was unlikely that anybody had had such a close acquaintance with Hollingshead to know the small Texan was an impostor. Should Softly seek verification after the disclosure of his identity by Dick Blood, it could only be acquired quickly via the telephone or an exchange of telegraph messages. Whichever means might be employed, the genuine and bogus geologists were sufficiently alike in size, build and, with the changing of Alvin’s hair color to blond, general appearance for him to match what would of necessity be a far from extensive description. What was more, as any attempt to locate Hollingshead would probably be based upon comments regarding a former employer made by the out of work and resentful cowhand, it was doomed to failure. One of the reasons for selecting him had been that he was currently engaged upon a highly confidential mission for the Counter family, with his whereabouts known only to its leading member and his absence would lend strength to the deception.