“They sure are,” Smoky answered, softly. “Charlie takes after his pa, in both looks and temperament.”
“I’m sure glad you’re takin’ your pa’s advice, Charlie. I understand your being so anxious to find those men,” Storm said. “However, if you’ll wait a while longer, you’ll have a much better idea where to start lookin’ for ’em. Do you understand that? Am I gettin’ through to you?”
“I reckon,” Charlie mumbled. “I’m still not happy about it, though. Not with Mary Jane lyin’ in that bed, all busted up, and not bein’ able to see. And her ma and pa dead. Those men have hurt an awful lot of folks. Don’t forget, Chuck and Eddie here lost their ma and pa, too.”
“None of us are, Charlie,” Storm agreed. “Now, we have some other business to attend to. Chuck, Eddie, you’ve been ridin’ with Jim and his pardners for quite a few miles now, and I reckon you both intend to see this hunt through to the end.”
“That’s right, Cap’n. We sure do,” Chuck answered.
“That’s for certain,” Eddie answered.
“Well, then, I reckon we’d better make this legal,” Storm said. “It’s time I swore you in as Rangers. I couldn’t do that before, until I checked into your backgrounds, and made certain you weren’t part of the Ghost Riders, and mebbe spyin’ for the gang.”
“You thought we might be part of the Ghost Riders?” Chuck said. “Those men killed our ma and pa, and tried to kill me’n Eddie. What made you think we’d ever be hooked up with a bunch like that?”
“I didn’t, but I had to be certain,” Storm answered. “You could’ve been in cahoots with the outfit, and wanted your folks killed. I’ve seen odder things than that happen, many times. And you’re both forkin’ gray broncs. That did look a bit suspicious.”
“Well, now that you know we ain’t, we appreciate you’re takin’ us on as Rangers,” Eddie said. “We’re obliged, Cap’n.”
“I’m happy to make you part of the outfit,” Storm said. “Now, you both look like you might be a bit young, so don’t tell me your birth dates.”
“You don’t have to worry about that, Cap’n,” Chuck said. “I turned nineteen last month.”
“And I’m eighteen. Well, near to it, anyway,” Eddie added.
“We’ll leave it go at that,” Storm said. “Once you’re sworn in, I have some more files we can go over, until I get the answers I’m waitin’ on.”
● ● ●
It was shortly after noon when Captain Storm pushed back from his desk, and pulled off the spectacles perched on the edge of his nose.
“Boy howdy, I don’t know about the rest of you boys, but I can’t look at another file,” he said. “Tell you what. Why don’t we head over to the Silver Star for some grub, and a couple of drinks? Mebbe that’ll help clear our heads. We’ve gotta celebrate the McIlroy brothers here bein’ made Rangers, so we’ll do that too. I’ll leave word if any messages come in to bring ’em over to the saloon.”
“Sounds good to me, Cap’n,” J.R. said.
“Same here,” Smoky added.
“Good,” Storm said. “They’ve got a new singer over at the Silver Star, name of Lacey Burns. She does some entertainin’ for the dinner customers, besides her regular show at night. We’ll catch her act. She’s got a fine voice, and she’s real easy on the eyes, too.”
“Not to mention the Silver Star Saloon serves a mean steak,” Jim said. “And a real fine dried peach pie. It’s about time we got some chuck, Cap’n. My belly button’s pushin’ up against my backbone, it’s been so long since I ate.”
“Yeah, it’s been all of five hours since you put away a stack of hotcakes, half a pound of bacon, another of ham, and half a dozen eggs, Jim,” Smoky said, laughing. “That’s not even countin’ Lord knows how many biscuits you ate, and four or five cups of coffee. I’m surprised you ain’t done starved to death.”
“I will, if I don’t get some food in my belly, right now. Bet a hat on it,” Jim answered. “Let’s go.”
● ● ●
The Silver Star Saloon was the unofficial Rangers’ bar in Austin. Most of the men stationed at Headquarters, except those who were married and had their own homes, took the majority of their meals there, as well as spending evenings relaxing over drinks, perhaps enjoying the company of one of the percentage girls, for a dance or other pleasures. Teddy Mahoney, the chief bartender, knew the preferences of each and every one of his regular clients. By the time Captain Storm and his men made their way to a back corner table, Stacy Marie, one of the girls, had already brought over glasses of beer for the captain, Smoky, J.R., Charlie, and Ty, and a bottle of sarsaparilla for Jim. She was a red-head, with laughing green eyes, a smattering of freckles across her nose, and full-figured. She wore a red satin gown which emphasized every curve of that figure.
“Howdy, boys,” she said. “Smoky, Jim, J.R., Ty, it’s been too long. Charlie, I’m certainly sorry to hear about your wife, and your in-laws. Please tell me she’s doing better.”
“She is,” Charlie assured her. “Thanks for askin’ about her.”
“That’s good news,” Stacy Marie said. “Earl, who’s these two handsome new fellers you’ve got with you?”
“This is Chuck McIlroy, and his younger brother, Eddie,” Storm answered. “They just signed on with the Rangers. They lost their folks to the Ghost Riders, up in Brady. Their pa was the county sheriff.”
“I’m sure sorry to hear that, boys. And I am pleased to meet you. Since you’ve joined the Rangers, I hope I’ll see quite a bit of you in here.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Chuck said.
“Ma’am?” Stacy Marie laughed. “I’m not that old. No one ‘ma’ams’ me, not ever. The name’s Stacy, or Stacy Marie. That goes for you too, little brother.”
She kissed Eddie, full on the lips.
“Did that feel like a kiss from a ‘ma’am’? Or perhaps your sister?”
“No. No ma’am, I mean Stacy Marie,” Eddie stammered. “It sure didn’t.”
“I should hope not,” she answered, laughing. “Now, what’s your pleasure? For drinks, that is.”
“I’ll have a beer,” Eddie answered.
“Same here,” Chuck added.
“Comin’ right up.”
“Stacy Marie, put in an order of steak and spuds all around,” Storm requested.
“Sure. Steaks for all of you. Rare for you, Captain, same for Smoky and J.R., medium for Ty, burnt almost black for Jim and Charlie. How about you, Chuck? How do you want yours cooked?”
“Medium’ll do just fine,” Chuck said.
“And I’ll have mine well done, but not burnt,” Eddie added.
“Fine. I’ll put in the order, then bring your beers.”
While they waited for their meals to arrive, the Rangers discussed, yet again, everything they had learned about the Ghost Riders. Every one of them, even Charlie, agreed they would have to get more information on the gang, or a lucky break, to find them before they struck yet again.
They had finished their dinner, and were working on final drinks when Teddy Mahoney stepped onto the saloon’s small dance floor. The bartender motioned for quiet. He nodded to Spike Freulich, the derby-hatted piano player, to pause in his pounding on the ivories.
“Gentlemen, as always, the Silver Star Saloon prides itself on its entertainment,” Mahoney announced. “Our latest singer is certainly not going to disappoint. She comes to us all the way from Omaha, Nebraska. I promised you a chance to hear her, briefly. Without further ado, I give you… Miss Lacey Burns!”
The room erupted in applause when the curtain parted and Lacey Burns stepped onto the floor. She was blonde and petite, with wide eyes of such a deep blue they appeared almost violet. Unlike most saloon entertainers, she was demurely dressed, in a high necked gown of blue silk. An enormous, feathered hat was perched on her head.
“Thank you for that wonderful greeting, she said. “For my first song, I’ll be performing the old standard, ‘Buffalo Gals’.”
With that, she launched into a lively rendition of the song. Her voice was amazingly powerful, especially coming from one so tiny. It filled the room, reverberating from the rafters, shaking the chimneys of the coal oil lamps. When she concluded, the audience burst into raucous applause, stamping and whistling their approval. Her second number was a bawdy tune, “Down Behind the Old Corral”, which she stated she’d written herself. From the reaction the song got, it was certainly appreciated by the patrons of the Silver Star.
“Why, thank you kindly,” Lacey said. “Now, for a change of pace, I’m going to sing ‘The Streets of Laredo’.”
That powerful voice changed completely when she began to sing “The Cowboy’s Lament”, more popularly known as “The Streets of Laredo”, the tragic story of a young cowboy who lay shot and dying. Lacey’s voice was now soft and mournful, in some verses of the song barely above a whisper. By the time the song concluded, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Even the battle scarred and toughened Rangers were wiping tears from the corners of their eyes.
“Thank you again, gentlemen,” Lacey said. “If you’d like to hear more, come back this evening. The show starts at eight.”
“You reckon we can come back, Chuck?” Eddie asked.
“I dunno. That’s up to Cap’n Storm, I’d imagine,” Chuck answered. “He’ll probably want us to stick close to Headquarters, rather’n out gettin’ drunk.”
“That’ll depend on what we find when we get back there,” Storm said. “It you don’t have to head out tonight, I’d have no problem with any of you comin’ back for the show. But no gettin’ drunk, and back in the barracks by midnight.”
“Um, Cap’n, that might not be a problem,” Jim said. “Yonder comes Paul Ramsey from the telegraph office. And he looks mighty anxious about somethin’.”
The Western Union telegrapher rushed up to the Rangers’ table.
“Captain Storm. I’m sorry to bother you durin’ your dinner, but you said if I received any replies to your wires to bring them right over,” he said.
“Don’t trouble yourself about that, Paul,” Storm answered. “You’re doin’ just what I asked. I take it you received a response.”
“Not exactly,” Ramsey answered. “Here. You’d better take a look for yourself.”
He thrust a yellow flimsy into Storm’s hand. The captain read it, his expression darkening. He crumpled the paper, with a curse.
“What’s that say, Cap’n?” J. R. asked.
“The Ghost Riders struck again. They attacked Millsap the night before last,” Storm answered. “It appears they tore up some of the T & P’s tracks, and ripped down the telegraph lines besides. That’s why it took so long for word to get through.”
“How?” Smoky said. “They couldn’t have made that good a time, after ridin’ out of San Leanna. That’s close to two hundred miles. Even ridin’ hard, day and night, it’d be impossible.”
“They could if they took a train,” Jim answered. “That’s the only way they could’ve done it. I’d imagine, once they left San Leanna, they broke up into groups of two or three men, then scattered, and either picked up trains at different stations, or took several different trains. That’s how they were able to disappear so quick, and completely. Then, they met up again in Millsap, rode out of town a short way to dress in those white robes, and came back and raided the town.”
“But that makes no sense,” Ty said. “Millsap’s the western terminus for the Texas and Pacific, at least until they extend their tracks farther west. There’s a depot, and train crews, and telegraph wires. It’s a decent sized town. They took an awful chance.”
“Not such an awful one, if you think about it,” Jim said. “You practically answered your own question, Ty. Like you said, it’s the end of the Texas and Pacific’s main line. That means there’d be no chance of any organized pursuit by rail. And it’s a railroad town. That means there’s not a lot of horsemen livin’ there. It’d be tough to round up any kind of posse, at least one that had much of a chance to find that outfit. No, once the Ghost Riders got out of town, it’d be real easy for ’em to just disappear into the brush.”
“Which means you boys are gonna do exactly what they did, Jim,” Storm said. “You’re gonna catch a ride on the railroad. C’mon. You men get your horses, and get your gear together. Take plenty of extra shells from the Headquarters armory. Spare guns, too, if you feel the need. Tell Doke I said to give you whatever you want. I’m headin’ over to the railroad station. By the time you catch up to me, there’ll be a train waitin’ for you.”
● ● ●
As Storm had promised, by the time the Rangers reached the Texas and Pacific depot, not only was there a train waiting, the railroad had made up a special, just for the lawmen’s run to Millsap. With the destruction the Ghost Riders had done to the Texas and Pacific’s town of Millsap, the captain had no trouble convincing the station agent to provide the Rangers with a fast train, which would highball north all the way to Fort Worth, then switch to the westbound tracks for Millsap. The fireman had already built up steam in the locomotive, which sat idling, smoke puffing lazily from its stack. Behind that was a single coach, and a cattle car.
“Men, load up your horses, and we’ll have you roll right out,” Phil Fitzsimmons, the station agent said, when they rode up onto the platform. “I’ve got Mack Taylor on the engine, and Perry Montalvo’s your firemen. Slim Carter’s your brakeman. They’re three of the best we’ve got. Old Number 10’s one of the best engines on this branch, too. She’s old, but reliable, and fast. You should pull into Millsap right around eight tonight.”
“Appreciate that, Phil,” Jim answered. “Those Ghost Riders have been ten steps ahead of us for far too long now. It’s about time we got ahead of them, for a change.”
“I think just about everyone in Texas would second that, Jim,” Fitzsimmons answered.
“Let’s get these broncs on board,” Jim ordered. The horses were led into the cattle car, saddles and bridles left in place, their reins tied loosely to the slats, so they could still reach the hay set against the sides. Once they were settled, munching on the hay, the door was slid shut and latched. The Rangers headed for the passenger coach.
“Men, good luck,” Storm said, just before they boarded. “If I get any more word, I’ll wire you in Millsap. Jim, you make certain to keep in touch, so I know what’s goin’ on.”
“I’ll do that,” Cap’n,” Jim said. “If the telegraph lines are back up, that is. We’d better get movin’.”
Jim was the last man to climb the steps into the coach. He settled in a back seat, just as the train, with the clanking of couplers, the hissing of released steam, the clanging of the locomotive’s bell, and a harsh blast from its whistle, lurched into motion. Except for brief stops for water and wood, the special would roll unhindered from Austin clear through to Millsap. Fitzsimmons had telegraphed up the line, so all switches would be set for the Rangers’ train to roll right through them, without stopping. All other traffic on the line would be halted, shunted onto sidings, until the special passed.
As Montalvo, the fireman, furiously tossed wood into the firebox’s hungry maw, building up steam, Taylor pulled back on the throttle, opening it fully. Soon, the train was racing along at nearly forty miles per hour. In the coach, the Rangers, knowing they might not have another chance for a good rest for quite some time, leaned back in their seats, stretched out their legs, and tilted their Stetsons over their eyes. Despite their anxiousness to reach Millsap, fearing they would find yet another scene of death and destruction, they allowed the rocking of the coach and clacking of the wheels over the rails to lull them to sleep, with each man hoping his next sleep wouldn’t be his last, and permanent, one.
● ● ●
The train reached Millsap shortly ahead of schedule, just before eight o’clock. With the tracks being torn up for a quarter of a mile from town, it was forced to stop before reaching the depot itself. Even with dusk fast approaching, a full crew
was hard at work, trying to repair the damage.
“Sorry, Rangers, but this is as far as we can go,” Carter, the brakeman, said, once the train rolled to a stop and they descended from the coach. “I’m afraid you’ll have to jump your horses outta the car.”
“That’s all right, Slim,” Jim assured him. “They’ve done it before. C’mon, men, let’s get ’em offa there.”
The horses were quickly unloaded, the Rangers soon in their saddles. The men of the track crew paused from their work, just briefly, to glance up at the riders, whose faces were set in grim determination. The rays of the setting sun glittered off the silver star in silver circle badges Jim. Smoky, J.R., Charlie, and Ty wore pinned to their chests.
It only took a few moments to reach town. As in all the other settlements the Ghost Riders had attacked, they had left behind a scene of utter devastation. The railroad station was a pile of smoldering rubble, most of the rest of town in ruin.
“Reckon there’s anyone who can tell us which way those hombres went, after they left here, Jim?” Smoky asked.
“I dunno,” Jim said. “Mebbe there.”
He indicated one of the few buildings still standing, a stone structure. Its walls were smoke and soot streaked, but still standing. Light shone through its shattered front windows.
“Let’s go find out.” He turned Sizzle toward the building. Hearing the riders approaching, a harried-looking man came outside, holding a sawed-off shotgun.
“What’re you men lookin’ for?” he curtly demanded.
“We’re Texas Rangers,” Jim answered. “I’m Lieutenant Jim Blawcyzk, and these are my pardners. We’re on the trail of the renegades who did this. You have any idea which way they headed?”
“Sorry, Ranger, for bein’ so rude,” the man answered. “It’s just that, after what happened, everyone’s on edge. I’m certain you can understand that.”
“Of course,” Jim said.
“I’m Harry Sloane, the T & P’s freight agent here,” the man continued. “I’m lucky to still be alive. I was usin’ the privy when those raiders struck. I ain’t ashamed to admit I hid in there until they were gone. Besides, with what they did, I needed to stay in there, if you get my meanin’. They killed sixteen people. And you can see how they just about destroyed this town. Anyway, I can tell you they headed west outta here, but that’s all. Wish I could be more help.”
The Ghost Riders Page 22