The Floating Outfit 44

by J. T. Edson

  Hamilton’s hand went up to grip hers and hold it. ‘But... but—!’

  ‘Riders coming,’ the Ysabel Kid remarked.

  The others all turned and saw men riding towards the ranch. They were all cowhands and riding in a relaxed, peaceful manner. The Ysabel Kid had been watching them for some time, and his warning would have come far sooner if there had been any show of hostility among the advancing men.

  ‘Who are they?’ Dusty asked.

  ‘Our hands,’ Hamilton replied.

  ‘But they should be out with the herd,’ Knight went on, his voice sounding angry. ‘That’s all of the crew except Brit and Lenny.’

  The riders came to a halt in front of the house, eight of them. Seven looked nervously at Knight and Hamilton, the other clearly the man in command. He was a heavily built, middle-sized man in dandified range clothes, sporting a pearl handled Remington in a fancy, low-tied holster. He swung down from his horse and came forward, his eyes arrogant. Halting he jerked his thumb back over his shoulder.

  ‘Me and the boys want our pay, we’re quitting.’

  ‘Why, Carron?’ Knight growled. ‘What’s the game?’

  ‘They dropped ole Lenny from on that rim above where we’re holding the herd. That’s why.’

  ‘Get the killer?’ It was more of a statement than a question from Dusty Fog.

  ‘Not us, we ain’t fighting no war.’

  ‘All yeller?’

  Carron looked Dusty over and made a mistake. ‘You nervy buttons make me retch. Why you short-growed—’

  Dusty came forward with a smooth gliding step, the back of his hand smashing up across the bigger man’s face with enough force to spin him round. Carron staggered back, snarling a curse and dropping his hand to the butt of his gun. Moving faster Dusty caught the wrist, jerked it up into the air, then down and round. Carron howled, his feet left the ground and he lit down on his back hard. With a roar that was more animal than human he came up and hurled himself at Dusty again, his big hands clawing out to grip the small man.

  ‘Stop him, Mark!’ Gloria yelled, for Carron was far heavier and bigger than Dusty.

  Mark shook his head, grinning as he watched. Carron might be bigger but he did not know the tricks Ole Devil Hardin’s Nipponese servant had taught Dusty Fog. He was going to learn them right now, or Mark did not know his young friend.

  Catching hold of Carron’s vest Dusty slipped backwards to the ground, his right foot going into the man’s stomach. Using Carron’s speed and weight Dusty heaved and sent the other man hurling into the air. Carron lit down hard, his gun bouncing from its holster. Dazed and winded he reached for the weapon, then fingers like steel bit into his neck, dragging him erect. His legs were wobbly and he staggered on to the left Dusty smashed into his stomach. Carron doubled over, his face turning an ashy grey color.

  Dusty’s other fist drove up, powered by all his weight. The man came erect again and then crashed down on to his back.

  ‘See what I mean?’ Mark inquired of Gloria.

  Brazos had been an interested spectator. He ambled up with a bucket of water in his hands and dumped the contents over Carron. The man sat up shaking his head, moaning, then dragged himself to his feet.

  The other hands looked at each other, then one of them spoke, ‘We want our time, Mr. Hamilton. When a nice feller like Lenny gets shot it’s time to get out of it.’

  ‘Where’s Brit?’ Just Smith asked.

  ‘He stayed on. Last we saw he was hunting the man who downed Lenny.’

  ‘And you left him?’ Hamilton barked. ‘Jack, get their money and pay them off. The sooner they’re out of my sight the better I’ll be pleased.’

  Carron crawled to his feet, bending and picking up the gun. ‘Try it,’ Brazos said gently. ‘That’s Cap’n Dusty Fog.’ Carron shoved the gun back into leather, not meeting Dusty’s eyes. He followed the other men towards the house. Knight went inside and soon after the cowhands started to come out with their gear, heading for the corral to collect their own horses and ride out. Carron was not amongst the other men and still had not made his appearance when Knight came back to join the others who were talking at the front of the house.

  Hamilton watched the men riding away and remarked, ‘Well, that’s the end of us, Jack. If we haven’t brought the herd in by tomorrow the bank will foreclose.’

  Five – The Herd

  Knight and Hamilton looked at each other, then at the three young Texas men. ‘You three wanting a riding chore for a spell?’ Knight asked.

  ‘Why sure,’ Dusty agreed. ‘Well take on. Mark’ll have to head into town tomorrow and send a telegraph message to Uncle Devil and let him know we’ll not be back for a spell.’

  ‘You’ll want some chow before you head out for the herd,’ Gloria remarked, knowing the men would be riding soon. ‘Who’s cook.’

  ‘Gal called Gloria Knight, she can’t be wuss than the last cook we had,’ Knight answered, ignoring Brazos’ objection to this slur on his cooking. ‘You get started.’

  ‘All right,’ Gloria remarked, looking at Mark with an expression which boded ill for him, then she turned to Rene. ‘You want to be cook’s louse, honey?’

  ‘Cook’s what?’

  ‘Louse, assistant,’ Gloria explained.

  ‘Well,’ Rene sounded dubious. ‘I did learn plain cooking at school, but I’m not——’

  ‘You’ll likely improve on ole redtop there’s fixings,’ Mark put in. ‘Her cooking used to be worse than plain.’

  Gloria poked her tongue out at Mark, thumbed her nose at him and led Rene off into the kitchen. Dusty watched them go, then turned his attention to Knight and Hamilton.

  ‘About this herd?’

  ‘It’s nothing much,’ Hamilton replied. ‘Three hundred head of white-faces. We needed some money for improvements just before Lanton’s man took over at the bank. Took up three thousand dollars on the agreement we’d pay back either the three thousand or three hundred head, or the ranch. The note comes due tomorrow and this new chap will want paying back dead on time. We had the very devil finding three hundred head, they don’t survive as well as longhorns, or ours haven’t. Aimed to bring in the herd today but we heard Gloria was arriving and so sent the boys to bring the herd in. Meant to go and meet them after the girls settled in.’

  ‘Three hundred head shouldn’t take much handling, Uncle Jack,’ Mark said, with the air of one who’d help trail three thousand head over the interstate trails.

  ‘They’re white-faces, Mark,’ Dusty put in. ‘And you know they don’t trail well at night. We shouldn’t have any trouble, there’s three of us, the bosses, Just, Brazos and the other hand. We ought to be able to handle them unless there’s swimming water to cross.’

  ‘There isn’t,’ Hamilton liked the way Dusty got down to handling a problem. ‘I think we’ll take the short way back, Jack. Through that coulee out there. It saved going right the way round.’

  The Ysabel Kid suddenly swung round, a low snarl coming from his lips and his face Comanche hard and mean. He went to the corner of the house his hand shooting out and hauling Carron forward. ‘You got a good ear, friend,’ he said.

  ‘I couldn’t find all me gear,’ Carron replied.

  ‘Let him be, Lon,’ Dusty ordered.

  ‘Why sure,’ the Ysabel Kid let Carron loose and stepped back, watching the man heft his bedroll. Following Carron to his horse the Kid watched the man heft the heavy looking bedroll and strap it to the cantle. Then he turned and looked back. The Kid’s face was close to him and the soft drawling voice held menace. ‘Hombre, happen you stay on round here I’ll be on the lookout for you, I’ll spit in your face every time I see you.’

  Carron tried to meet the red hazel eyes and failed badly. He swung into the saddle and turned his horse’s head towards the Azul Rio City trail. Not for a moment did he doubt the Ysabel Kid meant just what he said when he gave that old Texas warning. The Kid would do just that, spit in Carron’s face every time he saw him, unti
l Carron either ran or drew his gun.

  ‘Reckon Pd best follow him?’ the Kid asked hopefully.

  ‘We need every hand for the herd,’ Knight answered. ‘Don’t you like riding herd?’

  ‘You should like this one, Lon,’ Dusty remarked.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You’re always telling me you don’t feel natural moving cattle in daylight, so this should set well with you.’

  ‘Why this one?’

  ‘We’ll be doing it after dark.’

  Knight led the other men through the front door of the house. A hall ran down the center to the dining-room and the bunkhouse at the rear. At the right was a small office and the kitchen, on the left, windows looking out on the bosque and the stream, was the sitting-room, used by the family on special occasions. The stairs to the bedrooms separated the sitting-room and the men’s sleeping quarters. Gloria looked out as the men trooped by. She gave them a look of disgust and asked, ‘Were any of you in here a bit back?’

  ‘Nope,’ Knight answered.

  Gloria looked puzzled. She was sure she’d heard someone moving about in the house. However, she was too busy now to stand talking and let them go into the bunkhouse, as they called the room. The departing hands had left the room in a mess but there was nothing which could not be tidied up. The three Texans took unoccupied bunks and dumped their bedrolls on to their choice, then made their way into the dining-room and sat around the long table. They discussed range matters until the girls arrived with the food.

  ‘Hey shorty,’ Mark called, and he pushed away his plate and took up the cup of coffee at the end of the meal. ‘This slush looks some weak.’

  Rene looked down at her own cup. ‘I thought it was rather strong.’

  There was a general laugh at this and Hamilton explained. ‘Heckling the cook is one of our favorite pastimes, dear. In fact, any cook who did not get swamped with adverse comments on his food starts looking for another job right away.’

  ‘I see I have a lot to learn.’

  ‘Waal, was I you, Rene, I’d surely not let ole redtop there teach you a thing. She’ll get it all wrong.’

  ‘You just wait, Mark Counter. Just wait,’ Gloria warned. ‘My turn will come.’

  ‘Happen it comes before I get back don’t keep it,’ Mark replied. ‘I wouldn’t want it at all.’

  With the meal over they all trooped out of the house. Dusty, Mark and the Kid decided their horses needed a rest and stripped off the saddles, turning the big stallions loose to graze. Dusty took his rope and went to the corral. He climbed on the rail and dropped inside, looking the horses over as they went by him. A little dun gelding caught his eye as it went by and he waited his time. Shaking loose the rope, Dusty brought the loop up in front of him and to the right. Over his head the loop whirled once, then shot out. With a twist of his wrist Dusty turned the loop so it was flying parallel to the ground and at just the right height. The honda of the rope was slipping, closing the loop, tightening as it fell around the dun’s neck.

  Mark and the Kid caught themselves a horse each from the remuda, using the hooleyann throw like Dusty. This was the throw always used to catch a horse from the remuda. It was a head catch and enabled more than one man at a time to catch horses without scaring the rest.

  The three young men saddled their horses and swung afork. All three were fighters, and had been picked by men who knew horses for those same fighting qualities.

  Once the horses were cooled down and under command again the party rode out across the range. Gloria and Rene came on to the porch and waved to them. Gloria was holding a Winchester carbine under her left arm, and she was to defend the ranch in case of any attack by the S Star while the men were bringing in the herd.

  The ride across the range was made with no trouble. It was a new section to Dusty, Mark, the Kid, and they kept their eyes open. In the next few days they were going to travel around this range and would need to know it. About two miles from the house they came to a coulee, a long, deep gash in the land, caused by some volcanic action. It was no more than fifty yards wide and for the most part the banks fell away very steeply. This place was cut to allow an easy way down. At the bottom they turned and rode some thirty or forty yards along and up a natural grade at the other side. Dusty looked round with distaste, for the herd would have to be brought up the other side. The rims of the coulee were brush and rock and covered and would offer good cover if anyone wished to lay for the herd.

  There was no time to do anything now, for they were through the coulee and headed on. Then minutes later they saw the cattle, the sun was going down now and the gentle slope opposite them was in deep shadow. The cattle were bedding down, a couple of horses stood, saddled and with reins hanging, but there was no sign of a man.

  ‘Brit’s dead too,’ Knight growled.

  ‘Looks that way,’ Knight agreed. ‘Damn those—’

  A rifle crashed, the bullet striking in front of them and whining off in a vicious ricochet. They could not see where the shooter was, and not even the Ysabel Kid had seen the flicker of flame from the rifle barrel. Hands reached down for rifles and they expected more bullets to come at them.

  ‘Be off!’ a voice yelled from the other side of the open space, up on a darkened slope. ‘Don’t go near the herd or I’ll hit one of you to prove I can.’ The Kid’s rifle was in his hands. He was almost sure he’d got the speaker located but he heard Knight chuckle, then shout:

  ‘Hold it, Brit. Don’t shoot. It’s us.’

  There was a movement on the other slope in a different place from where the Ysabel Kid expected it. A tall young man came sliding down, rifle in hands. He went to one of the horses and rode across to the others. From the easy way he sat his saddle and the look of his clothes he might have been taken for any cowhand except that as a general rule cowhands did not sport monocles in their right eyes.

  ‘Sorry chaps,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Didn’t recognize you in this light and there were more of you than I expected. Thought it might be some of those bally thugs back again, so I took to my heels and hid away. Jolly bad form and all that rot, but they don’t play to the rules themselves.’

  Dusty, Mark and the Kid appraised this cool young man. They liked what they saw, for despite his monocle and outlandish way of talking, he was no fool. They’d seen the way he concealed his presence even from the Kid and it raised him in their estimation. In turn Brit was looking them over and with the eye of a man who knew cowhands saw they were more than just three chance hired hands.

  ‘I say, Mr. Knight, you were deuced lucky to be able to take on three more hands at such short notice. I couldn’t quite decide how we were going to manage after the others quit,’ he paused and looked at Just and Brazos, realizing how his words sounded. ‘No offence, I knew you and Brazos would stick it out, Just. You’re like me, don’t have sense enough to get out. There aren’t many of us even now.’

  ‘Don’t worry none, friend,’ Mark answered, looking at the small herd of white-faces. To a man who’d trailed north with a herd of longhorns this would be easy, despite the fact that white-faces did not care to move at night. ‘You’ve got six Texans along with you and everyone knows a Texan is equal to three ordinary men.’

  Brit chuckled, ‘Modesty is not a virtue amongst you colonials I see.’

  ‘How do you mean, colonials?’ Mark asked. ‘Didn’t you know about the war of seventy-six?’

  ‘My dear chap,’ Brit surveyed Mark through his monocle. ‘Don’t you know the world is divided into two parts. Britain and her colonies.’

  ‘What happened, Brit?’ Hamilton put in before the usual argument could start. ‘We thought you were dead.’

  ‘No such luck, sir. I think I was meant to be and would have been if Lenny hadn’t been having a bit of a game. I’d loaned him me monocle to try out. I think the bullet was meant for me.’

  ‘Why?’ Dusty asked, leaning forward in his saddle.

  ‘We were both riding bays. I’d been past the place wh
ere he was shot twice and nothing happened, so had nearly every man of the crew.’

  ‘That figgers, the try at Just in town ties in with it,’ Dusty’s voice was low. ‘They wanted to get the men who’d stick by KH.’

  ‘Tried for Just, too, did they?’ Brit growled. ‘Dash it all, we’ll have to take stern measures with them. I took after the feller who shot Lenny, he left fast. When I came back Carron was taking the others back to the ranch house. I’ve buried Lenny. I’ll come out tomorrow and put a marker on his grave. Then I hope to get a crack at the blighter who killed him.’

  If that hombre took out we’d best move too,’ Dusty drawled, looking at Knight. ‘He might be back with friends and these white-faces’d spook easy in the dark.’

  ‘Right,’ Knight agreed. ‘Me’n Mike better take the point, Dusty. We know the range and—’ He came to a stop, not knowing how to go on for both Dusty and Mark were known as trail bosses.

  ‘I’m only one of the hands, that was how you took me on, not as trail boss or point rider.’

  ‘You take the swing then.’ Knight liked Dusty even more now. He was a natural leader but he did not mind taking orders as well as giving them. ‘Head ’em up. Point ’em for the house.’

  Before they started the herd moving Just found time to introduce Brit to the three young Texans. He saw the Englishman give Dusty a keen and interested glance and put it down to Brit’s having heard of Dusty since he came west. There was no time for more talk for Knight and Hamilton were heading for the herd.

  Starting a herd moving was a ticklish business any time and with these sort of cattle at night, even worse. The thing was to get the herd moving under control without stampeding it. The white-faces were a far different proposition from the half wild longhorns which could run like jack-rabbits and fight like lions. The longhorn would, if he could be caught, move as willingly at night as in the daytime. The white-faces, particularly when on a comfortable bed ground would rather not move at all.