Cully shook his head. "No. I guess they figured if Captain Winters heard about it, they'd be in more trouble than they could handle." He pushed back his chair and stood up. "I'll ride out there now and tell Winters."
"Good." Flint took off his hat and hung it on one of the pegs. He left his gun belt on as he went to pick up the coffeepot that was staying warm on the stove. "Don't tell Winters why we jailed them. Let me handle that."
Cully nodded and left the office, and a moment later Flint heard the deputy's horse galloping out of town. Flint filled his coffee cup, then strolled to the cellblock.
Hull was pacing around the cell that he shared with the corporal. The three privates occupied the next cell. When Hull saw Flint, he flung himself at the cell door, gripped the bars, and thrust his snarling face against them.
"You can't do this, dammit!" he exclaimed. "We're soldiers! You ain't got no jurisdiction over us! You had no right to damn near bust my head open!"
Flint sipped his coffee, then pointed to the badge on his chest. "This says you're wrong, Hull. Anything that happens in my town is my business."
"That's nothing but a damn piece of tin! You wait till the cap'n hears about this. You can't lock up the Army!"
Flint shook his head and walked into the office. There was no point in arguing with a man like Hull.
Within a few minutes, Hull quieted down, evidently bored with his own ranting and raving. Flint sat at his desk and spent a peaceful half hour drinking his coffee.
When several horses cantered up outside, Flint knew that Cully had returned and brought company with him. At the sound of bootheels ringing on the boardwalk planks, the marshal stood up. The door opened and Cully came in, followed closely by Captain Joseph Winters.
Winters wore an angry scowl on his face. Even though his uniform was in perfect order, he looked faintly rumpled, as though he had retired before Cully arrived with the news of the arrests. A sleepy-looking corporal stood behind him.
The cavalry officer strode across the office to Flint's desk and glowered at the lawman. Without preamble, he snapped, "What's all this about you locking up some of my men, Marshal?"
Before Flint could answer, Hull called from the cellblock, "That you, Cap'n? You got to get us out of here, sir! That lawdog's crazy!"
Flint gestured toward the cellblock. "I've got Sergeant Hull and four of your men back there, Captain. I'm charging them with assault and disturbing the peace, maybe more."
"What did they do?" Winters asked tightly. "Your deputy would only tell me that they had been locked up."
"They were involved in a brawl here in town."
"In one of the saloons?"
Flint shook his head. "In a house owned by a lady named Addie Plunket."
Winters's lip curled contemptuously. "In a whorehouse, you mean."
"Some would call it that." Flint shrugged.
"You can't be serious. You threw my men in jail because of some scuffle in a bordello?"
"It was more than that," Flint said. "White Eagle Dandaneau was involved, too. From the looks of it, Hull and the others tried to kill him."
"I don't believe it," Winters declared flatly. "Sergeant Hull is a good soldier. He wouldn’t have tried to hurt Dandaneau."
"There are a lot of folks who would disagree," Cully put in. "Besides, Hull was trying to molest one of the women. That's what started it."
Winters sneered. "That's ridiculous, Deputy. To be blunt, how can you molest a prostitute? That's what they get paid for, isn't it?"
"Not for being slapped around," Flint replied. He moved from behind the desk. "Look, Captain, we've got enough on our plates without worrying about something like this. Why don't we strike a bargain?"
"And what might that be?" Winters asked stiffly.
"You put Addie Plunket's place off-limits to your men, and I'll see that there are no charges brought against Hull and his friends."
Winters considered for a long moment, then finally nodded. "All right," he said. "I don't particularly want my men frequenting bordellos, anyway."
"And Hull and the others spend the night in jail. They need to sleep off all the liquor they put away tonight."
Winters hesitated, but Flint refused to back down. Grudgingly, Winters said, "If you really think that's necessary, Marshal, I won't dispute the point. I want to see them, though."
Flint waved a hand at the cellblock door. "Be my guest, Captain."
Winters strode into the cellblock, holding his gloves in one hand and slapping them against the palm of the other in his habitual gesture. The five troopers in the cells crowded against the bars, and Hull said eagerly, "Howdy, Cap'n. You come to get us out, right?"
"No, I've come to find out why you disobeyed a direct order, Sergeant," Winters said. "I told you that you could come into town if you wouldn't cause any trouble with the local citizens. Now I find that you've started a fight and damaged a business establishment."
"Hell, Cap'n, it was just a whorehouse!" Hull protested. His tone grew petulant as he went on, "Besides, it was that damned redskin's fault."
"I know you and Dandaneau aren't friends, Hull, but that's no excuse to gang up on him." Winters nodded curtly. "The marshal and I have agreed that you will spend the night in jail. Let it be a lesson to you."
Hull and the troopers exclaimed angrily, but the captain cut them off with a shake of his head.
"You'll be released in the morning...if you don't cause any more trouble tonight," Winters went on. He glanced at Flint, who was standing in the cellblock doorway. "Isn't that right, Marshal?"
Flint nodded. "That was the agreement. I'll talk to Dandaneau and Mrs. Plunket and ask them not to press charges. I'm sure they'll agree."
"Very well." Winters turned to stare coldly at Hull and the others. "I'll expect you men to report to me at camp tomorrow morning as soon as you're released. There may well be some other punishment for this little escapade." He strode out of the cellblock without another word.
Flint followed him. "Thanks for going along with me, Captain," he said.
Winters sighed. "You were right, Marshal. Those men have to be taught a lesson. Hull is a good soldier, but I suppose he can be a bit of a troublemaker at times."
Cully started to comment on Winters's understatement, but Flint caught the deputy's eye and shook his head. "I'll see that they're released first thing in the morning," he promised. “There’s one other thing. Hull told one of the prostitutes the real reason your troop is here.”
Winters stared at him. The officer’s face slowly darkened with anger. He said, “I suppose it’s too much to hope that the woman will keep her mouth shut.”
“Several of them know about it by now.” Flint shook his head. “I reckon that’s a lost cause, Captain. The word will get out. Cully and I will keep a lid on things as best we can, but you can count on the fact that things are going to get a mite more tense around here.”
"Yes, that seems inevitable. I'm sorry this happened, Flint."
"So am I. Good night, Captain."
Winters nodded and stalked out, his aide trailing him.
Flint stepped onto the boardwalk as Winters and the corporal were mounting up. "By the way, have you received any reports on Bear Knife?"
Winters settled himself in his saddle and shook his head. "Not recently. I did receive a dispatch from headquarters saying that a Kansas settler living near the Indian Territory border had been murdered, apparently by renegades. The man's brother was missing and presumed dead as well. But that was the last sign of Bear Knife. I'm sure we'll hear from him again, sooner or later."
"I'm afraid you're right," Flint agreed.
Winters lifted a hand and started to salute out of habit, then turned the gesture into a wave. He and the corporal rode down Texas Street toward the encampment on the edge of town.
Cully joined Flint on the boardwalk. The deputy looked out at the quiet town. The saloons were still brightly lit, but at this hour most of Abilene was sleeping. Cully said, "I don't
much like this waiting. If that Indian's going to show up, I'd just as soon he'd hurry up and get it over with."
Flint nodded. "Maybe that's just the way Bear Knife wants us to feel."
"You're going to be pretty stiff and sore for a few days, Mr. Dandaneau," Rose Keller said. "But you were lucky. None of your ribs are broken, as far as I can tell, but you do have some severe bruises."
"I can live with that," White Eagle grunted.
Rose turned from the examining table and went to the cabinet. "I'm going to bind your ribs. That will keep you from straining the muscles around them, and it should relieve the pain."
White Eagle nodded. Rose's competence and professionalism during the examination had impressed him. His confidence in her ability made it easier for him to ask about Katie.
"You mentioned my father and stepmother earlier, Doctor," he began. "Are you treating my stepmother for her, ah, condition?"
Rose smiled as she took a wide roll of cloth and a small pair of scissors from the cabinet. "You make pregnancy sound like a disease that needs a cure, Mr. Dandaneau. But I know what you're trying to say, and yes, I am tending to Katie's health. At least I was."
"Was?" White Eagle echoed.
Rose's expression grew serious. "She's stopped coming to see me. I gathered from some of the things she said that her husband was opposed to her seeking medical attention."
"That sounds like my father," White Eagle agreed grimly. "He told me that a woman doesn't need a doctor to have a baby. My mother didn't have a doctor when I was born, of course, and he's convinced that's the way it should be."
Rose shook her head. "I hope you don't mind my saying so, Mr. Dandaneau, but that's an absolutely ridiculous attitude. There are so many things that can go wrong during childbirth that it is only common sense to take as many precautions as possible."
"I couldn't agree with you more, Doctor. But it's hard to talk sense to Pierre Dandaneau."
Rose told White Eagle to lift his arms again, and she began winding the cloth around his torso, pulling it tight to hold the bruised muscles in place. As she worked, she said, "Katie may have a difficult time during delivery. Since this is her first child, and she is small, she may have problems from that alone. If anything else comes up, if the baby is in a breech position..." Her voice trailed off as she tied the cloth tightly around White Eagle's middle.
The doctor's frank speech embarrassed the scout. He wasn’t accustomed to discussing such things with ladies. Having this beautiful young woman ministering to his bruised body was distraction enough. He said, "You're saying that having this baby could be dangerous for Katie?"
"Yes," Rose nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying. Even with a doctor in attendance, she could have problems. It's essential that I be summoned as soon as she goes into labor. The very moment, in fact. Do you understand, Mr. Dandaneau?" She finished tying the cloth, stepped back, and gazed at him intently.
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked after a moment. "It's really none of my business."
"We're talking about your stepmother and a little brother or sister for you, Mr. Dandaneau. You appear to be the kind of man who would care about things like that."
He hesitated, then finally said, "I suppose that's true. Katie made me feel welcome. I'm very fond of her. I don't want to see anything happen to her."
"Could you possibly speak to your father?"
A grin stretched across the scout's face. "I tried that, Doctor, and it was a waste of time. I think Pierre really cares for Katie, but once he gets an idea in his head, it's almost impossible to change it. He thinks Katie doesn't need your services."
"He's wrong."
"I know." White Eagle nodded. "I suppose I can keep an eye on things. Pierre won't like it if I call you when the time comes, but I won't let him stop me."
"Thank you, Mr. Dandaneau. That's what I was hoping you would say." Rose picked up his buckskin shirt. "Here, let me help you with this."
When he had dressed, he settled his bill and then picked up his hat. He winced as he raised his arm to put it on his head. "You were right," he said. "I am sore."
"I don't think the pain will be too bad now that those ribs are bound. If it is, come in, and I'll give you something to ease it."
"Thanks."
"Don't try to do too much for the next few days. Are you staying with your father and stepmother?"
White Eagle shook his head. "I've got a room of my own," he said, which was almost true.
"Well, be careful. It would be good if you can find someone to help you."
White Eagle thought about Emily. She would probably be happy to fetch and carry for him for a few days. Of course, his injury would cut down on some of their other activities. He would just have to suffer through it.
"Thanks again," he said as he left the doctor's office. He tipped his hat to Rose, then started toward Addie Plunket's.
He was crossing Texas Street when Lucas Flint hailed him from the opposite boardwalk. Flint strolled into the street to meet him.
"I was just taking my last turn around town for the night," the marshal explained. "What did Rose find?"
"A bad bruise, but nothing broken," White Eagle said. "Has the captain come in for his men yet?"
"He's been and gone, but he didn't take those troopers with him. They're spending the night in
jail."
White Eagle frowned in surprise. "Winters agreed to that?"
"He didn't have much choice." Flint grinned. "I figured Hull and the others needed to sleep it off. I told Winters that you and Mrs. Plunket wouldn't press charges, as long as Hull stayed behind bars overnight and then promised not to go back to that house where you're staying."
The scout glanced sharply at the lawman. "How do you know I'm staying there?"
"Just an educated guess," Flint said. "You seemed to have plenty of friends there."
"It was a good guess," White Eagle said, but he didn’t elaborate. He didn’t feel like telling Flint everything that had happened since his arrival in Abilene, nor would he mention Pierre's connection with the whorehouse.
The two men strolled down the street, and after a moment Flint said, "Winters said that renegades killed some farmer down by the border. It was probably Bear Knife, but there's no proof. That's the only report we've received of Indian trouble."
"Don't get your hopes up, Marshal. I know the man. He'll be here sooner or later...unless somebody kills him first. And I don't think there are many people in Kansas who are capable of doing it."
"Other than you, you mean."
"That's right," White Eagle said. "Other than me."
Inside the jail, Sergeant Harrison Hull sat on one of the hard bunks in his cell and seethed. The corporal lay stretched out on the other bunk, snoring. In the next cell, two of the privates had claimed the bunks, while the third man lay curled on the floor wrapped in an extra blanket that Cully had tossed through the bars. All of them were asleep.
At the moment, Hull wasn’t sure he would ever sleep again. Rage had burned the whiskey out of his system, and he was wide awake. All he could think about was the galling fact that he was sitting in a civilian jail. It was just about the most degrading thing that could happen to a man. And it was all that stinking redskin's fault.
Dandaneau had more than Bear Knife and his braves to worry about now, the sergeant schemed. If the renegades didn’t finish off the half-breed, Harrison Hull would settle the score.
9
Bear Knife stared stonily at Willie Pike. The Kiowa raised a hand and pointed to the north. "You are sure Abilene lies there, white man?" he asked.
Willie nodded emphatically and sweat beaded on his forehead. "Yep," he said. "Me and my brother came through there when we was first on our way to our farm. Can't be more'n twenty miles due north of here."
The white man swallowed nervously. He had been living in mortal terror ever since Bear Knife and the Kiowa warriors had killed his brother and kidnapped him a few days ago. The image of Claude's b
loody corpse haunted him.
He had done everything Bear Knife asked. He had shown the Indians the best trails and steered them away from settlements. The Army had to be looking for this band of renegades, but Willie had helped them avoid the patrols.
Now he was hoping—no, praying—that Bear Knife would be grateful enough to spare his life.
The Kiowa leader turned to one of his men and grated a command in his guttural tongue. Willie licked his lips and watched intently as the brave nodded and wheeled his horse around. The Indian called to several of the others, and they rode away, yipping and howling as they headed west.
Bear Knife's group had grown steadily. Braves seemed to appear from nowhere to speak a few words and then join the band. Willie knew that word of the renegades was spreading. Lone Indians on the run and smaller groups of warriors who had fled their reservations were flocking to Bear Knife's cause. Glancing at the braves behind him, Willie realized that there were at least two dozen mounted Indians, not counting the ones who had just ridden off.
It was a formidable group, maybe not large enough to take the whole town of Abilene but certainly sufficient to wreak bloody havoc.
Bear Knife turned to Willie and smiled. Willie was stunned: It was the first time the farmer had seen such an expression on the savage's face.
"You have done well, white man," the chieftain said. "You were wise to tell the truth. That is the only reason you are still alive."
Willie nervously wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "I just tried to do right by you, Bear Knife. Now I reckon you'll do right by me, won't you?"
"Have you been mistreated?"
Willie had to admit that he had not been. Except to guard him to be sure he didn’t run off, the Indians had left him alone. He had lived in constant fear of torture, but it had not happened.
"You have been good to me," Willie replied.
"Are there any towns between here and the place called Abilene?"
Willie shook his head. "Not that I know of. Ain't been through these parts in a couple of years, though, so I can't say for sure."
Solemnly, Bear Knife nodded. "Then we don’t need your help any longer, Willie Pike."
Rattler's Law, Volume One Page 89