by J. T. Edson
‘Nope,’ the youngster answered. ‘I’m saying it might not’ve been done from outside.’
‘What makes you think that?’ Handiman asked, remembering what Ole Devil Hardin had told him about the blond’s flair for deductive reasoning.
‘I was going ’round the corner as the last shot was fired,’ Waco explained, concealing a slight nervousness at finding himself being studied by so many older men. ‘Only there wasn’t anybody in sight when I turned it.’
‘He’d already run away,’ Massey stated.
‘He could have,’ the blond conceded. ‘Only he wouldn’t’ve had time to pick up all the empty shells and there wasn’t even one lying out there. Which there should have been, happen he was using either a Winchester or a Henry like it sounded.’
‘It had to be one or the other,’ the adjutant asserted. ‘We all heard the lever action being operated and he fired about a dozen shots.’
‘Only eight,’ Waco corrected. ‘I counted ’em real careful, figuring I’d be going up against him.’
‘Very well, only eights,’ Massey accepted, but with obvious disdain. ‘That still means he must have been using a rifle, or at least a carbine. I’ve never seen a revolver chambered for eight shots. Have you?’
‘Not just for eight, but I’ve seen one’s was made to hold ten,’ the blond answered. ‘General Hardin’s got one hell of a good collection of handguns hanging in his study and I’ve been let spend a fair amount of time looking ’em over. One of ’em’s a pin-fire ten-shooter’s was made some place in Europe and got sent over here to be sold to the Confederate States’ Army. What I was told about it and its mates, they wasn’t popular. Seems they was reckoned too big, heavy ’n’ delicate, on top of it being nigh on impossible to get a regular supply of bullets for ’em.’
‘I know the type of revolver you mean,’ Handiman supported, also having studied the collection when visiting the OD Connected ranch. ‘But, although I’ve never seen it fired, I wouldn’t think it would sound like a lever action mechanism when it’s being cocked.’
‘Even if it did sound that way,’ Massey went on, with the air of producing an irrefutable argument. ‘Everybody was searched before they were allowed to come here. It was impossible for anybody to have brought in a revolver, particularly one as large as you say that European ten-shooter was.’
‘One feller brought a gun in with him, though,’ Waco contradicted.
‘God damn your impertinence!’ the adjutant snarled, seeing all the other men were looking in the same direction as the blond youngster. His right hand slapped on to the closed flap of the holster attached to his weapon belt and he continued just as heatedly. ‘Of course I’m wearing a revolver—!’
‘And I’m betting those fellers from the newspapers remember you are,’ Waco drawled, having drawn certain conclusions and now seeking a way of putting them to the test. ‘Which they could start asking questions when it comes out that Ten Bears might not’ve been shot by a rifle from outside the treaty cabin.’
‘How dare you imply—?’ Massey began, his face dark with anger.
‘He has a point, Captain!’ Handiman put in, deciding something far more serious than idle curiosity or a desire to embarrass the adjutant had prompted the blond youngster’s comment. ‘Show us your revolver, please!’
‘I agree with you, General!’ Barran declared, then turned an apologetic glance towards Massey. ‘Considering the circumstances, we must make certain there can’t be the slightest reason for suspicion, or even doubt, where anybody connected with this unfortunate business is concerned.’
‘I protest, sir!’ the adjutant growled, stiffening into a brace and throwing a look at the commanding officer of the Fort as if seeking support.
‘Your protest is noted, Captain Massey,’ Handiman asserted, giving the Colonel no chance to speak. ‘But I’m still ordering you to show us your sidearm, so we can check it hasn’t been fired.’
‘As you wish, sir!’ the adjutant answered, his tone neutral. ‘Here it is!’
Watching Massey walk towards the older men, opening the flap of the holster, Waco felt uneasy. Except for the objections which were understandable for one of his background when placed in an embarrassing position by somebody he considered a social inferior, he was showing no trace of alarm over what he had been ordered to do. This could be due to having a clear conscience. In which case, the theory which had led the youngster to make the suggestion was wrong and, at the very least, he would be required to tender an apology to the adjutant.
Continuing to advance with the brisk and drill-like precision which characterized all his movements, turning the palm of his right hand outwards, Massey brought the side arm from its holster. However, despite having a butt shaped in a similar fashion, it was not any kind of revolver. Instead of having a rotating cylinder to hold its bullets, there was a tubular magazine such as was fitted to Winchester repeating rifles and carbines beneath the barrel. To further emphasize the resemblance, the trigger guard was made in the form of a ringed lever.
Although Waco had had his supposition confirmed by the firearm which was brought into view, having remembered examining and firing one from Ole Devil Hardin’s collection, he was not given time to say so!
The young blond was not alone in making the identification!
‘A Volcanic pistol!’ Handiman ejaculated, then noticed and realized the significance of the hammer being in the fully cocked position. There could be only one reason why a man with Massey’s knowledge of firearms would have bolstered the weapon in such a potentially unsafe condition. ‘Then i—!’
Before the General could complete the accusation, the adjutant lunged to catch Barran by the left arm and, thrusting the muzzle of the Volcanic pistol against his side, pulled him until they were standing well clear of the others. ‘Don’t anybody make a move!’ Massey demanded.
‘What in h—?’ the Colonel began and seemed on the point of stepping forward.
‘Stand still, damn you!’ the adjutant warned, gouging the muzzle deeper into the politician’s side. ‘Or I’ll put a bullet through his guts and, doctor or no doctor on hand, he’ll die in agony!’
‘Do as he says, everybody,’ Handiman ordered and, having given considerable thought to how such a situation might be coped with, acted upon his conclusion that the best way would be to play for time. ‘Why on earth did you shoot Chief Ten Bears, Captain?’
‘Do you really need me to answer that?’ the adjutant challenged derisively, glancing towards the platform where Doc Leroy was kneeling alongside the unmoving Indian. Although he had not yet taken anything out of his black bag, he had it fully open.
‘Certainly I do,’ Handiman replied. ‘The Chief was ready to bring his people out of the Palo Duro peacefully, instead of the Army being sent to fetch them.’
‘And that’s why I did it!’ Massey asserted. ‘I commanded a regiment with distinction in the War and was about to be promoted to General with my own Brigade when those goddamned Rebs gave up and peace came. Then, instead of the advancement I’d earned, I was fobbed off with an unpaid brevet rank and sent to Europe as a Captain. When I was brought back, in spite of having carried the Military Attaché all the time I was there, I was assigned as adjutant to this son-of-a-bitching, dead-or-alive, stinking mud-hole.’
‘I told you that was only temporary!’ the Colonel protested. ‘You’d have had command of Company “A” and been my second-in-command by the end of the month!’
‘And spent the rest of my career rotting away out here where nobody would ever hear about me!’ Massey went on bitterly.
‘Unless you were given the chance to distinguish yourself in a campaign to force the Kweharehnuh out of the Palo Duro,’ Handiman continued. ‘But Ten Bears coming to make peace was going to stop the necessity for that. So you decided to make sure he didn’t sign the treaty.’
‘That’s how it was,’ Massey confirmed, darting a glance filled with hatred at Waco. ‘I saw my chance and took it.’
‘But it hasn’t worked,’ the General answered. ‘You’ve only wounded Ten Bears and, from all I’ve heard about Doctor Leroy there, he’ll live.’
‘I’d be willing to bet on it,’ the slender cowhand declared, with complete confidence, his right hand resting on the open top of the bag.
‘And I’m willing to bet the Chief will still be agreeable to signing the treaty,’ Handiman supplemented, hoping he sounded as assured as the kneeling Texan. ‘So you might as well surrender. You can’t get away.’
‘The hell I can’t!’ the adjutant denied. ‘Just as a precaution, I’ve two good horses saddled and loaded with all I’ll need, under the pretense that I was expecting to be sent with dispatches when the meeting ended. You’re going to pass orders for them to be waiting for me at the main gate and I’m to be let go. You’ll also say that everybody has to stay indoors until after I’ve gone.’
‘Why would I do that?’ the General inquired, although he could guess the answer.
‘ Because you don’t want that damned red-stick to learn he was shot by one of the Army officers assigned to guard him,’ Massey replied. ‘If he hears that, he’ll not be likely to sign your god-damned peace treaty.’
‘We could keep him from finding out,’ Handiman countered, despite conceding there was some justification in the assumption. ‘I can count on everybody in here to keep quiet—!’
‘You couldn’t explain away having the Senator here gut-shot,’ Massey denied. ‘There are men around the Fort who’ll be only too eager to let that red-stick bastard know what happened and claim it proves the Army doesn’t want his people to come out peacefully. So I’m taking Barran with me as a hostage and the only way you can keep him alive is by letting me go. You can announce I’ve taken him to make a report about what happened. Do as I say and you’ll at least have a chance of preventing anybody from learning the truth. Try any tricks and I’ll kill him, then take my chances on getting away.’
‘Aw hell, General!’ Waco put in loudly. ‘That bow necked Yankee son-of-a-bitch’s only bluffing. Afore he can start gut-shooting the Senator, he’s going to have to reload that fancy handgun.’
‘Reload!’ the General queried, noticing a change had come to the demeanor and tone of the blond youngster.
‘Why sure,’ Waco asserted, his manner and voice redolent of smug self satisfaction at having reached a conclusion which had eluded older and more experienced men. He made it clear that he was particularly pleased to consider he had got the better of Massey as he continued, ‘General Hardin’s got him a couple of them Volcanic guns, which how I figured out one’d been used ’n’ not a Winchester. Thing being, that gun only holds eight of them itty-bitty bullets with the powder and cap inside ’em, ’stead of having a regular cartridge case. And, seeing’s how ole bow-neck there’s already shot off eight to put just two into the chief—!’
‘Don’t even think of it!’ Massey spat out, seeing the Colonel and the General’s aide-de-camp stiffen as if contemplating rushing him. ‘That beef-head son-of-a-bitch isn’t as smart as he imagines and he’s made a very bad mistake. It was a six inch barreled Volcanic he used and that only takes eight balls, but this of mine is the eight inch barrel model and holds ten when fully charged, which it was when I came in here.’
‘I’m not from Missouri!’ Waco snorted derisively. ‘But I’ve still got to be showed you ain’t empty!’
‘You’ll be more than just “showed” if you take a step this way, you smart-assed son-of-a-bitch!’ the adjutant threatened, as the other officers froze into immobility on receiving a prohibitive glare from Handiman. ‘I can cut you down and have the gun back against Barran’s ribs with the last ball for him before anybody else can reach me. They’re not armed to get me from where they stand.’
‘They might not be armed,’ the blond youngster answered, in the manner of one playing an unsuspected trump card. ‘But I never go no place ’less’n I’m toting iron!’
‘You were searched and disarmed before you were allowed to come in!’ Massey claimed, but an uneasy feeling assailed him. ‘I made sure of that—!’
‘Only I didn’t get here with the others,’ Waco reminded. ‘Paddy Magoon let me in and he didn’t figure he’d need to search me when I left my gunbelt in his room. Happen he had, he’d’ve found I was toting a lil ole Remington stingy gun back here.’
Saying the last few words, the blond youngster began to swagger forward and reached behind his back beneath the calfskin vest with his right hand!
Further fury flooded through Massey as he appreciated the ramifications of the latest, completely unanticipated development!
Until that moment, being aware of how delicate the situation was, the adjutant had felt sure Handiman would yield to his terms rather than ruin whatever chance might remain of salvaging the treaty negotiations. Furthermore, knowing that Barran was a leading advocate of making peace with the Kweharehnuh and having them leave the Palo Duro of their own free will, the General would not endanger his life. However, lacking such an assessment of the affair and clearly seeking to gain added acclaim by a grandstand play, the young Texan would not be swayed by such considerations.
The thought increased the hatred which Massey had already developed for the cause of his predicament. If it had not been for the surprising knowledge of firearms possessed by the blond cowhand, even though he had failed to exchange the Volcanic for his service revolver under the pretence of escorting the spectators from the treaty cabin, it would have remained undetected. Furthermore, eager to show himself to be correct in his judgment, the brash young Texan would not hesitate before bringing out and using the weapon he had succeeded in carrying upon his person.
‘Damn you!’ the adjutant spat furiously, watching the blond’s bent right elbow alter the direction in which it was moving and starting to swing the Volcanic away from Barran.
As soon as the Senator was no longer threatened by the unconventional weapon, the deep bellow of a heavy caliber revolver sounded. Struck in the center of the forehead by the bullet, Massey was knocked away from his intended hostage. An involuntary reaction caused him to squeeze the trigger. However, the lead ejected through the eight inch barrel of the Volcanic flew harmlessly into the floor some feet from where Waco was standing with both hands empty.
‘Gracias, Doc,’ Waco drawled, turning his gaze in the direction from which the shot which had saved him had come. ‘I’m right surely pleased you had everything in that ole bag of your’n.’
‘You can always count on that,’ the slender cowhand replied. He was still in the kneeling posture and he lowered the smoking, wooden handled Colt Artillery Model Peacemaker which he had held double handed at shoulder height and arms’ length as an aid to taking a careful aim. ‘Pappy taught me that a doctor out here should always tote a six-gun in his bag. You might’ve got that bow-necked hombre to turn his pistol sooner, though. I’m wanting to start ’tending to the Chief here.’
‘Take my advice, young man,’ General Handiman requested gravely, entering the treaty cabin with his aide-de-camp about half an hour after the shooting of Captain Massey. With the exception of the Texans and corpsman, he and the others who stayed behind had left to deal with the crowd attracted by the second gun shots. On returning, he found only Waco present. ‘Don’t ever let yourself be given an assignment like mine. I’ve just been lying fit to damn my immortal soul, supposedly explaining what happened in here.’
‘Well I’ll be switched!’ the blond youngster ejaculated. ‘And here’s me thinking only us hired hands needed to do things like that.’
‘How do you mean?’ Handiman inquired, looking at the now deserted stage.
‘You reminded me of something I was saying to Doc’s we rode in this afternoon,’ Waco replied. ‘Anyways, ole Chief Ten Bears’ll pull through. Them Volcanic bullets don’t have a whole heap of power and they hadn’t gone in deep enough to be dangerous’s long’s they was got out soon after. Getting hit unexpected by ’em caused him to fall backwards, so�
��s his head banged the wall and knocked him unconscious. Afore he was toted back to his bed ground, he told us’s he’s still wanting to sign the treaty.’
‘We have you and your friend to thank for that,’ the General claimed, noticing the youngster was no longer speaking and behaving in his previous arrogant cocksure manner. ‘And I’m going to write and tell Ole Devil so.’
‘Don’t do that, sir!’ Waco close to pleaded. ‘The rest of the boys’d rawhide me something mean happen you did.’
‘Very well,’ Handiman assented with a smile. ‘But I need to know how you arrived at your conclusions. I need all the facts for my confidential report, so my aide had better write everything down while it’s still fresh in your mind and I’ll be able to raise any points you don’t cover.’
‘Where’d you want me to start?’ the youngster asked.
‘From the shooting which wounded the Chief,’ the General replied.
‘Well, sir,’ Waco obliged. ‘I went out expecting to see a feller using a Winchester through the window. When he wasn’t there ’n’ I couldn’t see nor hear him lighting a shuck and there wasn’t even any empty shell cases lying around, I figured I must’ve just imagined hearing the lever clicking. Comes Doc saying neither bullet’d gone through Ten Bears, which they would’ve had even a carbine been used, I reckoned it must’ve been a revolver ’cepting there’d been eight shots and I couldn’t bring no eight-shooter to mind, nor one’s’d sound like a lever action when it was being fired. That ten-shooter came to mind, which started me thinking about Ole Devil’s gun collection ’n’ I remembered the Volcanics I’d seen ’n’ been let use.’
‘Why did you suspect Captain Massey?’ Handiman asked, the explanation having been brought to a temporary halt to allow his aide to write down in shorthand what had been said so far. ‘Did you remember seeing him near the window when the lights went out?’