Set Texas Back On Her Feet (A Floating Outfit Western Book 6)

by J. T. Edson

  ‘How long have you known about this?’ Viridian demanded, tapping the newspaper with his left forefinger and glaring at the peace officer.

  ‘I’ve been hearing talk about it for the past two weeks at least,’ the captain confessed.

  ‘And you didn’t take the trouble to let us know about it?’ Viridian challenged, pleased at finding an opportunity to put Dolman in bad with his partners.

  ‘I thought that it was only idle gossip,’ Dolman countered conscious of the accusing and reproachful looks being directed at him. Even Marlene was showing displeasure. Then he saw a way in which he might be able to turn the tables on Viridian. Staring pointedly at the burly man, he said, ‘Surely some of the ranchers who came here mentioned it to you?’

  ‘Not to me, they didn’t!’ Viridian ejaculated, seeing the trap and taking steps to avoid falling into it. ‘How about you, Bernie?’

  ‘Never a word,’ Schweitzer replied, being equally determined to exculpate himself. ‘But it’s been well over a month since the last rancher was here. Then it was only Paul Dover and he might not have known anything about it.’

  ‘You mean you haven’t had any cattle for over a month?’ Dolman asked, having seen a number of animals in the factory’s holding corrals.

  ‘Only the herd that Ribagorza brought in last week,’ Schweitzer answered, without meeting the peace officer’s eyes.

  ‘Well,’ Dolman conceded, ‘it’s not likely that he’d know about it.’

  None of the partners offered to comment on the remark, but they knew what the captain was implying. Although Juan Ribagorza had frequently delivered herds to the factory, he did not own a ranch. He and his band of Mexican hard cases stole the cattle, which were sold to the Company for an even lower price than would have been paid to the legitimate owners.

  ‘Perhaps the ranchers are holding back their deliveries until they’ve heard what Goodnight has to say,’ Dolman continued, after almost a minute of silence.

  ‘They could be at that,’ de Froissart said worriedly. ‘And if his idea is accepted, nobody will bring us their cattle.’

  ‘Not even Ribagorza,’ Dolman supplemented. ‘Even if he finds it easy to—buy—the cattle he can make more money taking them to Kansas.’

  Once again the four owners did not feel the words called for a reply. They had always kept up the pretence of believing that Ribagorza came by the cattle honestly.

  ‘Of course, you’ll have one consolation,’ Dolman went on. ‘If Goodnight’s idea works, selling the cattle in Kansas could help set Texas back on her feet.’

  Obviously, from their expressions, the prospect of Texas’s economic recovery meant little to the partners. In fact, Dolman knew that none of them had any loyalty to the Lone Star State. Only de Froissart was a native-born Southron, but the place of his birth had been New Orleans. Of the others, Schweitzer and Profaci hailed from New York and the Viridians had originated from Boston. As Marlene’s accent showed, she had been born and raised in the wealthy, socially elite Back Bay district. Her husband, however, had clearly sprung from much humbler surroundings.

  ‘To hell with Texas,’ Viridian blazed, expressing his companions’ and wife’s sentiments. ‘It’s us that I’m concerned about.’

  ‘What can you do about it?’ Dolman challenged in a mocking manner.

  Catching the implication in the captain’s voice, Viridian pushed back his chair and came to his feet. Standing and glaring about him, he resembled a longhorn bull that had scented danger and was preparing to defend itself. ‘Get to Fort Worth before that son-of-a-bitching Convention starts,’ the burly man answered. ‘And make sure that nobody believes there’s a market for their cattle anywhere except with the hide and tallow factories.

  ‘That’s the idea, Austin!’ Schweitzer praised. ‘Will you need any help?’

  ‘I can’t do it alone,’ Viridian replied. ‘So I’ll take Gus Roxterby along. He can do the hiring while I keep in the background.’

  ‘Smart thinking,’ de Froissart exclaimed. ‘That way nobody will know that we’re involved.’

  All the partners approved of Viridian’s selection. Roxterby a tall, lean, sharp-featured man whose range clothes usually bore traces of dried blood, was the factory’s floor supervisor. However, they suspected that, before joining the Company, he had made his living at least on the fringes of law breaking. Certainly whenever the necessity had arisen, he had always known where to locate the kind of assistance that was required.

  ‘When are you leaving, Austin?’ Profaci wanted to know.

  ‘As soon as we’ve got one thing settled,’ the burly man answered.

  Viridian was no fool. Realizing that what he had in mind would involve breaking the law, he meant to take precautions. One of them would have to be against betrayal or desertion by his wife and partners if he should be arrested while carrying out his illegal work.

  Chapter Two – A Short-Growed, Blond-Haired Kid

  ‘WELL, I’LL BE DAMNED!’ the lean, gray-haired rancher, said, with relief, peering at the centre man of the trio who were confronting him. He allowed his right hand to drop away from where it had been hovering above the butt of his holstered revolver. ‘It’s you, Mr. Viridian. I didn’t recognize you first off.’

  There was a good reason for the speaker’s wary attitude and comment. Instead of being dressed in the fashion which he usually adopted around the factory, Austin Viridian wore—with the exception of his boots—the attire of a cowhand. He had neither washed nor shaved since leaving Pilar, travelling by a roundabout route so that he avoided the stagecoach trail and the chance of meeting people who might identify him. So he looked unkempt and far different from the way in which Paul Dover had become accustomed to seeing him.

  Nor were Viridian’s companions likely to produce a feeling of security or peace of mind when being met in an otherwise deserted alley on the fringes of Fort Worth.

  At the best of times, Ed Silvane and Stan Timson would never pass as honest, church-going citizens. Hard-faced, dirty, cold-eyed and unshaven, they looked what they were: a pair of hard cases, ready, willing and able to use the guns which were hanging at their sides. Silvane was tall and lanky, Timson being shorter and thickset. Flanking their employer, they stood slightly to his rear.

  The other owners of the Pilar Hide & Tallow Company had not accepted Viridian’s decision to visit Fort Worth without discussion. While agreeing that something must be done to protect their interests and to counter the threat to their profits, there had been some debate as to how this might be brought about.

  The first stumbling block had come with Captain Harlow Dolman’s warning that he could not help the partners in his official capacity. Being aware of most Texan’s mistrust of and antipathy towards, the State Police, Governor Davis had ordered that none of its members should be in Fort Worth during the period of the County Fair. There would be a number of ranchers present, men of considerable influence and growing political importance, whom it might be unwise to antagonize. So the Governor had stated that the enforcement of law and order must be left in the hands of Marshal Rupert Grillman, an honest and respected son of the Lone Star State, and his deputies. That meant the Pilar Hide & Tallow Company would not have the tacit approval of the local peace officers for their actions.

  In the end, it had been decided that Pierre de Froissart would attend the Ranch Owners’ Convention as the Company’s official representative. He was to convey the impression that he and his partners approved of the attempts to find new and more lucrative markets for the cattle, even if doing so might reduce their own profits. By doing so, it was hoped that he would be able to divert suspicion from the Company if the Convention should be disrupted.

  De Froissart was well suited to his task. Unlike his partners, he had the background and upbringing which made him socially acceptable in the best circles. So he had always acted as the link with such influential people whose support, approval or assistance had become necessary. That had been an asset before the War Bet
ween The States and equally so once hostilities had commenced. Although ostensibly loyal to the South, the partners had ensured that more than half of their factory’s products found its way into Union hands and was paid for in gold. As a major in the Quartermaster Corps of the Confederate States’ Army, de Froissart had been able to organize the delivery of the goods and to prevent that side of the Company’s activities from being detected. His military service now gave him an added means of access to various important Texans who had worn the South’s cadet-gray uniforms during the conflict and would render him acceptable at the Convention.

  While de Froissart was carrying out his assignment, Viridian—accompanied by men who had been of use on previous occasions—was to try to discredit the rumors of the new markets. He was also to attempt to persuade ranchers to sign contracts under which they would be compelled to continue making regular deliveries of cattle to the factory. Obtaining the first signatures, Viridian realized, would be the hardest part of the assignment. Once he could show that some ranchers apparently had no faith in the stories, others would be more willing to follow their lead. Everything depended upon Viridian selecting the right kind of men as his first victims. Especially as with Dolman absent the Company could not depend on the local law being sympathetic and understanding.

  Luck appeared to be favoring the Pilar Hide & Tallow Company. Viridian had not been in Fort Worth for an hour and he could have hardly found a better man for his purpose. Running a small ranch, small by Texas standards, Paul Dover was not a person of great consequence. Nor was he connected by birth or marriage to any of the State’s powerful and influential families. A mild-mannered man, he had contrived to remain neutral during the War. So he could not claim the ties of friendship which military service offered. On top of that, he was devoted to his wife and children.

  ‘I thought you hadn’t,’ Viridian answered. ‘You acted kind of edgy.’

  ‘No offence meant,’ Dover said hurriedly. ‘Only there’s a lot of rough fellers around Fort Worth for the County Fair.’

  ‘I know what you mean,’ Viridian said amiably. ‘It pays a man to be careful these days. Hey though, I haven’t seen you at the factory for near on two months.’

  ‘Well, no, you haven’t,’ Dover admitted, without meeting the burly man’s eyes. ‘I’ve been kept busy around the spread.’

  ‘Sure, there’s always something needs doing,’ Viridian commiserated. ‘Are you here for the Convention?’

  ‘More for the County Fair,’ Dover answered, guessing that the main topic of the Convention would not meet with the hide and tallow men’s approval. ‘I may drop by and hear what’s being said. There’s no harm in listening.’

  ‘No harm at all,’ Viridian agreed, sounding jovial. ‘Will you be bringing some cattle after you get back home?’

  Suddenly, the rancher began to remember that the part of Fort Worth in which he was standing must be practically deserted. Almost everybody would be at the town’s main square to see and hear Governor Davis declare the County Fair open. Having arrived later than he had anticipated, he had left his family to watch the ceremony and had brought their wagon to Mulcachy’s livery barn. A chance meeting while he was unhitching the team had further delayed him, but he had felt it was time well spent.

  Looking at the three men who were blocking his way to the street, Dover was not so sure that it had been.

  For all Viridian’s apparently friendly attitude, the rancher felt uneasy. There did not seem to be any reason for the burly man to be wearing the Stetson, wolfskin jacket, bandana, shirt and Levi’s of a working cowhand. Or to be so dirty and unshaven after the comparatively short journey along the stagecoach trail from Pilar. His two companions were hard looking and not the kind to be employed for any legitimate work around the hide and tallow factory. In addition to studying Dover in a mocking manner, they continually darted glances at the rear of the alley or over their shoulders towards the street. It was almost as if they wanted to make sure that they were not being observed.

  ‘Well—,’ Dover began hesitantly, after a brief pause in which he had considered his position and drawn some disturbing conclusions. ‘I—er—I don’t have any gathered right now and I couldn’t say when I’ll be getting round to doing it.’

  ‘Like you said, you’ve been kept busy,’ Viridian remarked, in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘There’s been some talk about driving herds to Kansas and selling them for big money. What do you make of it?’

  ‘I’m not sure what to make of it,’ Dover replied, trying to sound disinterested and still avoiding the other man’s gaze.

  ‘Sounds tempting, though,’ Viridian suggested, retaining his amicable posture.

  ‘It sounds that way,’ agreed the rancher, but tried to appear non-committal.

  ‘It’d take too much money to set up, though,’ Viridian hinted.

  ‘Not if three or four of us small ranchers got toget—’ Dover began. Then, realizing that he might be saying too much, he let the words fade out. Taking the watch from his vest pocket, he looked at it. ‘Hey! Is that the time? I’ll have to be going, Mr. Viridian. The wife’s waiting for me.’

  ‘Sure,’ the burly man replied, watching Dover return the watch. ‘I know what wives are like if you keep them waiting.’ He grinned and extended his right hand. ‘I’ll be seeing you around.’

  Watching their employer, Timson and Silvane were puzzled by his attitude. They knew why he had brought them to Fort Worth and were expecting him to take a more aggressive line with the rancher.

  Relief flooded over Dover at Viridian’s reaction. He had been worried about how the hide and tallow man would respond to the suggestion that he was considering the new, more lucrative, market for his cattle. Apparently, Dover thought as he accepted the offered hand, Viridian and his partners were reconciled to the idea and his concern had been groundless.

  Instead of merely shaking hands, Viridian started to squeeze. He was a strong man, capable of exerting considerable force. That showed in the agonized expression which sprang to Dover’s face.

  Losing every suggestion of amiability, the burly man gave a tug and jerked Dover towards him. Even as the rancher opened his mouth to yell. Viridian continued with the attack. Clenching his left fist, he rammed it savagely into his captive’s belly. All the breath rushed from Dover’s lungs and pain caused him to double over. Snatching free his right hand, Viridian transferred it and his left to the rancher’s shoulders. With a twisting heave, he hurled his victim backwards to crash against the wall of the nearest building.

  ‘Go and watch the street, Timson!’ Viridian snapped, striding after Dover.

  While the hard case hurried away, Viridian brought up his right hand. Before the rancher could recover his wits and think of defending himself, he was caught by the throat. With the thumb and fingers sinking into his flesh, he was lifted erect and pinned against the wall. Moving in, Silvane plucked the revolver from Dover’s holster and anticipated his weak, fumbling grab for it.

  ‘So you’re going to team up with some other small ranchers and take your cattle to Kansas, are you?’ Viridian snarled, loosening his hold a trifle. ‘And whose idea is that?’

  Hurt, dazed and half-strangled, Dover could offer no resistance. He understood what was being said to him, but could not prevent the words which came boiling out.

  ‘Yo—you—bast—’ the rancher began, then tried to raise his voice. ‘Hel—!’

  Clamping down his hold on the throat, Viridian propelled his left fist into Dover’s belly for the second time. The word came to an abrupt halt, but the recipient of the blow was held upright and could not bend over in an attempt to relieve the pain.

  ‘Try yelling again and see what you get,’ Viridian snarled giving Dover’s head a sharp rap against the wall and once more loosening but not removing his grasp on the throat. ‘You don’t have the brains to think up that notion. So who told you about it?’

  ‘F—Feller down to Mulcachy’s livery barn,’ the rancher gasped, knowing the
futility of refusing to answer or trying to resist. ‘I was just talking to him about it.’

  ‘Who is he?’ Viridian demanded.

  Wanting to decide how he might best answer, Dover did not reply immediately. He saw the anger increase on Viridian’s face and felt the grip tightening about his throat, so spoke hurriedly, ‘A short-growed, blond haired kid. I don’t know his name.’

  ‘If you’re lying—!’ the burly man began.

  ‘It’s the truth!’ Dover yelped. ‘He was only a kid, but he reckoned he’d been on the drive with Goodnight and had seen letters from the Eastern buyers.’

  ‘And you believed him?’ Viridian challenged.

  ‘No, I didn’t take too much account of what he said.’

  ‘You didn’t?’

  ‘N—No. Hell, I don’t reckon he’d’ve been more than a wrangler, or the cook’s louse, even if he had been on the drive.’

  Watching his victim’s face, Viridian was puzzled. There was something wrong, but he could not decide exactly what it might be. He doubted whether Dover would dare lie to him, especially about the source of the information when it could easily be checked on. Perhaps the rancher had given the story more credence than he had declared and was afraid of being found out. That might account for his attitude.

  ‘If I find he wasn’t who you say,’ Viridian snarled. ‘I’ll cripple you!’

  ‘Send one of your men to see,’ Dover countered. ‘The kid’s the only one at the barn. Everybody else’s gone to see the Governor open the Fair.’

  If the rancher was bluffing, Viridian decided that he was making a good job of it. So he decided to accept the story and go on with the main part of his business.

  ‘Do you reckon you can sell cattle up in Kansas?’ he asked.

  ‘N—No,’ Dover replied and stiffened as if expecting the attack to be resumed.

  Instead, Viridian removed his right hand and used it to extract some papers from his jacket’s inside pocket. He separated one, opened it and returned the rest. Crouching slightly and rubbing his stomach, Dover watched what was being done. Next the burly man produced a small writing case from the pocket.