Listening to the muted rumble of agreement from the other four men, Madeline de Moreau struggled to keep a check on her normally imperious and demanding nature. Before her husband had been killed by Ole Devil Hardin, the
members of the band of renegades which they had gathered would not have dared to display opposition to orders in such an open fashion. Although she felt anger surging through her, she was aware of her position at that moment, and was too wise to show it.
Madeline was sufficiently intelligent to appreciate just how slender a hold she had over the remnants of the band. Serving Presidente Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna for profit, as she and her husband had been, she was all too aware of the type of men they had enlisted into their organization. Every one of them had "gone to Texas" to evade the consequences of criminal activities in the United States of America, and they were only willing to accept the leadership of a more ruthless, cold-blooded and dominant personality than their own. So she had been fortunate in preventing them from scattering after the fight at the cabin had left her a widow, and even more so in that they had, albeit reluctantly, agreed to act upon the plans which she had formulated for making another attempt to capture the consignment of caplock rifles. Certainly they did not consider her as the natural successor to her late husband as head of the band. They had only gone along with her suggestions out of greed and because nobody else had been able to think up an alternative scheme.
About five foot eight inches in height and in her early thirties, Madeline had a full-bosomed, slender-waisted and curvaceous figure which was not created by artificial aids. Despite the marks left by her fight with Diamond-Hitch Brindley—in which she had been coming off a bad second-best when it was brought to an end—she was a very beautiful woman. A gray "planter's" hat covered her brunette hair and her black two-piece riding habit—spare clothing which had been in her war bag on the cantle of her saddle—^was supplemented by the warm man's cloak-coat that she had donned.
Despite her physical attractions, there had always been a
hard and superior air about Madeline which—when they remembered how she and her husband had earned a living before coming to Texas*—repelled and annoyed the male members of the band. Nor, feeling nothing but contempt for what she regarded as the hired help, would she have had it any other way. As far as she was concerned, even before her bereavement, they were nothing better than dull-witted, uncouth animals. Although necessary for Randolph and her purposes, they were expendable; to be used as long as there was a need for their services and then discarded. Nor had her thinking about them changed. Provided things went as she hoped, she would soon be leaving their company permanently. The kind of life she had been leading recently no longer had anything to offer, or to hold her in it.
Regardless of her faults, which were many, Madeline had loved Randolph Galsworthy Buttolpht deeply and sincerely. Distressed, grieving and enraged by his death, she had sworn to be avenged upon the man who had killed him. That had been her main reason for gathering together the men who had fled from the cabin. Nor could she have hoped to achieve anything with them, but others of the band—having been summoned by a message left at one of their hideouts-arrived. Even with the reinforcements, it had taken all her persuasive powers before they would agree to carry on with the task which her husband had started. Nor would she have succeeded without Dodd's backing. He had always been in-
* Before their activities had made the United States of America too hot to hold them, MadeUne and her husband had been actively involved in a white slavery ring as well as operating a high-class, but notorious, brothel and gambling house in New York.
f Although Ole Devil Hardin had known Madeline as "de Moreau" and believed her husband's surname to be "Galsworthy," they were Mr. and Mrs. Buttolph. However, to avoid confusion, the author will continue to refer to her by her maiden name, which she and her husband had elected to use since arriving in Texas.
fatuated by her and had hopes of taking Buttolph's place in her affections as well as becoming the new leader of the band.
Conceding that any direct attack upon the well guarded consignment, or the mule train, was out of the question, the woman had realized it would become even more difficult to deal with them after they had come together at Santa Cristobal Bay. However, Dodd's explanation of how the pack mules were handled had shown her a way in which she might be able to attain her desire for profit and revenge. There had been added inducement in the thought of how the shooting of Ewart Brindley would affect his granddaughter, for whom she was nursing a hatred which almost equaled her antipathy toward Ole Devil Hardin.
Although Madeline would not have been averse to capturing the consignment, that was far from being her primary consideration. She had been too appreciative of the difficulties involved in taking and disposing of it—as well as retaining the lion's share of the profits it would bring—^with her husband dead to feel sanguine over the chances of success. So her main objective had been vengeance.
Basing her plan upon a shrewd summation of Ole Devil's character, formed while in his company as part of her husband's scheme to gain possession of the caplocks, the woman had guessed how he would respond to the loss of the bell-mare. Feeling sure that he would personally lead the detail sent to obtain a replacement, and as he would not wish to reduce the guards on the consignment or the mules to any great extent, she knew it would consist of only a few men despite the unsavory nature of the town's population. She had argued that catching him would place a useful hostage in their hands. Even if his men refused to exchange the rifles for him, or he should be killed, they would be left leaderless and consequently much easier to deal with.
None of the men, not even Dodd, had suspected Madeline's true motive for bringing them to the San PhilHpe area. Being shrewd as well as intelligent, she knew that she could not hope to retain her former position of authority in the band now that her husband was dead. Nor was she willing to act in a subordinate capacity to any other man, particularly those who were with her. So she planned to break away from them and return to the United States, where she felt certain that she could re-establish herself without difficulty, as soon as they had helped her to take revenge upon Buttolph's killer.
On arriving in the vicinity of San Phillipe, Madeline and the men had sought for the best place to establish their ambush. Doing so had only been a matter of selecting the most suitable of several locations, any one of which would have filled their needs adequately. Concluding that their victims would in all probability follow the trail which ran parallel to the coast had made their task easier. However, they had not wanted to be too near to the town in case any shooting that was necessary should be heard and bring some of the citizens to investigate. Being aware of the kind of people who lived there, the renegades had considered it most inadvisable to let them learn about the valuable consignment. With that in mind, they had settled upon a bend with a number of bushes on either side to offer concealment for themselves and their horses. It was in fairly thick woodland and about three miles from the nearest human habitation.
In spite of having agreed to carry out the ambush, a difficulty had arisen. While the men had been willing to take the precaution of eating the food which they were carrying without warming it and to do without lighting a fire, they had started to complain about the lack of liquid refreshment. Finally, to keep the peace, Dodd had taken three companions and set off to purchase a supply of liquor from the town. As
he had pointed out to the woman before leaving, some of the others were sure to sHp away for it if he did not go and, by taking charge of the party himself, he could make sure that it returned as quickly as possible.
From the way in which her companions had been and still were behaving, Madeline could tell that they were growing less enamored of the scheme. While fine and dry, there was a chill in the air which did nothing to make the waiting more pleasant and comfortable. If the Texian failed to act as she had anticipated, or there should be any other setback, she would lose what lit
tle control she had over them. In view of the kind of men they were, especially without Dodd to stand by her, she might suffer an even worse fate than merely being deserted.
"Maybe something's happened to 'em," suggested the fourth of the renegades who were with Madeline on the right side of the trail. "You know what kind of a place San Phillipe is."
"Or it could be they've changed their minds and don't conclude to come back," suggested the man who had started the latest outburst of complaints.
"There's some's wouldn't blame 'em if they have," commented the second speaker. "Hell's teeth, we ain't going to do no son-of-a-bitching good here. Happen Hardin knows about San Phillipe, which 'most everybody in Texas does, he'll not be loco enough to come there fixing to get another mare."
"It don't strike me's he would," admitted the last of the quintet.
As the woman heard the trend being taken in the conversation, she began to grow increasingly perturbed. Up to that point, she had drawn some slight comfort from the way in which the men had been speaking. Several feet were separating her from them, which was nothing unusual as she had
never mingled closely in their company. Up until that point, she could only just hear their words and had felt sure that they were not aware she could do so. The fact that they were no longer attempting to hold their voices down implied that they might be contemplating a revolt against continuing the ambush.
Worried by the possibility, Madeline slipped her right hand into the side pocket of what had been her husband's cloak-coat. Closing her fingers about the butt of the weapon which was inside, she found herself wishing, not for the first time, that he had had it in his possession when he was confronting Ole Devil Hardin. However, for some reason, he had failed to take the precaution. In view of the latest development, she was not sorry to have it available and unsuspected by her companions. It had a potential which could be of great use if they were considering more than merely deserting her.
Even as the woman was drawing her conclusions, she began to walk in a casual seeming fashion to where her section of the party had left their horses. Although she was alert for any hint that her actions were arousing the men's suspicions, she did not take out the multibarreled Maybury "Pepperbox"* handgun. It offered her the advantage of being able to fire no less than eight shots without needing to be reloaded, but was only .34 in caliber and lacked accuracy at anything except close quarters. If there should be trouble, she planned to stop at least one of her assailants before they were near enough for it to be effective. Her husband had taught her to shoot and she had attained a fair proficiency at it even before her arrival in Texas.
Coming to a halt, as if she had merely gone to check on the animals, Madeline glanced at the group beneath the
* Pepperbox: a multibarreled repeating firearm where all the barrels rotate around an axis instead of, as on a revolver, only the cylinder holding the firing charges.
white oak tree. First one, then another began to stand up and all were gazing in her direction. Alarm and anger gripped her, but not to the extent of rendering her unable to think. The situation was bad, but not desperate. As a precaution in case a hurried departure should become necessary, all the horses were saddled and had the girth tight enough to let them be ridden with the minimum of delay. So she could mount and be gone long before any of them could reach her. Especially if she caused some confusion by shooting one of their number. With that in mind, she lifted one of a brace of pistols from the holsters attached to her saddle's horn. If the men had noticed what she was doing, they made no comment. However, when they heard her drawing the hammer to full cock, they might suspect why she had armed herself.
Even as the woman's left hand went to the hammer, she heard a low whistle from where the sixth member of her group was keeping watch on the trail.
"Hey, Mrs. de Moreau!" hissed the first complainant and, although more softly spoken than his last words, his tones were sullen as he continued, "There's somebody coming!"
Taking advantage of the news as an excuse, Madeline cocked the pistol while returning to the men. They were reaching for rifles, or pistols when the sound of the approaching horses reached their ears.
"Not from the south," the woman said, a touch bitterly. "It's probably only Mister Dodd's party coming back from town."
"It's taken 'em long enough to do it!" commented another of the quintet, just as quietly as the first and sounding equally resentful. "This sitting around waiting's surely hell without a drink to help pass the time."
"I know's I can use one," declared a third speaker, turning toward the trail. "There's no saying how long we'll be here. Or if anybody'll come after we've waited."
With that, the renegade walked in the lookout's direction. Leaving their rifles behind and handguns in their belts, his companions followed. Setting after them, still carrying her pistol, Madeline could see and hear enough to inform her that the other group across the trail were behaving in a similar manner.
Taking the recent events into consideration, the woman was not sorry to hear the approaching riders despite them coming from the wrong direction. While Dodd lacked the masterful personality of her late husband, he was tougher than the others and still a force to be reckoned with in the band. His presence would offer her considerable protection if things should go wrong.
Suddenly a thought struck Madeline and it drove the relief from her mind as she felt sure it had not occurred to any of the men. The riders might not be Dodd's party, but somebody else who had been in San Phillipe and were using the trail. Travelers from the town were likely to be engaged in a way of earning a living which would make them wary and mistrusting. Riding into such a situation, they would be inclined to shoot first and ask questions later.
"Hey there!" yelled a voice, almost quavering with urgency and alarm, to the accompaniment of several bottles clinking against each other, before the woman could put her thoughts into speech. "Don't shoot, fellers! It's only us 'n' we've brought the liquor!"
Having given a startled gasp at the first shouted word, a snort of annoyance burst from Madeline as the explanation continued. From the way in which the approaching rider was carrying on, he considered that he was taking a most sensible and necessary precaution. In fact, his tones suggested that he was very nervous.
For all the woman's relief at discovering the identity of the men on the trail, she silently cursed Dodd for not having
kept him quiet. If Ole Devil Hardin—or whoever had been sent to obtain a replacement for the slaughtered bell-mare— was close enough to have heard what was said, he would know that somebody was lurking in the vicinity and ready to start shooting at passersby. While he was unlikely to guess who the ambushers might be, he was certain to take steps to avoid them. Obviously Dodd's party had failed to take that point into consideration. Nor were the rest of the band showing any better grasp of the situation.
"You was right, ma'am!" announced the lookout, no longer bothering to speak quietly. "That's ole Pudsey. I'd know his voice anywheres."
"Sounds like they ain't coming back empty-handed, neither," another renegade went on in normal tones. "Which a drink's what I'm needing right now."
Before Madeline could suggest that they remembered what they had come to try to do, the second speaker started to walk from the bushes and the others followed his example. They were joined by the men from the other side. An ever growing anger filled her as she listened to the commotion her irresponsible companions were making, but she doubted whether they would take any notice if she attempted to make them behave in a more sensible manner. What was more, there was a likelihood that they would become even more noisy. With the mood her group of the ambushers had been in, they could also do worse to her than just alerting anybody who might be in the vicinity of their presence.
A bitter sense of resentment against Dodd began to assail the woman. She wished that he had given more thought to what they hoped to achieve and had restricted the quantity of liquor his party was bringing from San Phillipe. If t
he clinking was anything to go by, there were sufficient bottles to let them all get drunk and she was all too aware of how dangerous that could be for her. There were men present who had
little cause to be kindly disposed toward her. Under the influence of the cheap whiskey, they could decide to repay her for the arrogance she had always shown to them.
Appreciating the peril from the renegades, either if she tried to prevent the issue of the liquor or after they had finished it, Madeline did not follow them. Instead, remaining among the bushes, she peered through the darkness at the four returning members of the band. Although she could only make out their shapes, she concluded from the steady way in which they sat their horses that none of them had imbibed an excessive amount of liquor while they were in town. Clearly Dodd had restrained any desire the other three might have had to overindulge.
Even as the thought came, Madeline grew puzzled. While nowhere near the man her husband had been, Dodd was tough, experienced and not unintelligent. What was more, he had proven himself capable of enforcing his will upon the other members of the band even before he had made his party refrain from getting drunk in San Phillipe.
So why had Dodd allowed Pudsey to call out the warning of their arrival instead of announcing it himself in a more suitable manner?
Or, if it had been done without Dodd's knowledge and authority, why was he keeping silent when he ought to be remonstrating with his indiscreet companion?
With the two points raised, Madeline began to sense that something was very, very, wrong. However, for a few seconds, she could not decide what it might be.
Then certain significant, frightening even, factors started to emerge!
Dodd and his companions had all been approximately the same height and build, clad in low crowned hats and range clothes. While the woman could identify the man in the lead as Pudsey, there was considerable disparity between the
shapes of himself and two of his companions. What was more, even the fourth of the party—who was behind the other three—struck her as being wrong. After a moment, she realized why.
Ole Devil and the caplocks Page 13