by J. T. Edson
“There’s nothing to hold me in Cowtown now, so I’m figuring to be on my way as soon as I’ve changed clothes. Like you always taught me, I don’t stick around after I’ve helped pull a game.”
“It’s a good policy. But would it be indiscrete of me to inquire in which direction you’ll be travelling?”
“Not at all,” Belle answered. She knew her companion only wanted to avoid finding himself in a location where she was engaged upon some kind of confidence trick and perhaps, inadvertently, interfering with, or even spoiling, the scheme. “I haven’t worked here in Texas for a fair spell and thought I’d drift down to Austin to find out whether it has anything to offer. Not that I’m thinking of starting back to work just yet, unless something good comes up that I can handle lone-handed. My team have scattered and will want to do some spending before we get together again. So, after I’ve looked things over around Austin, I’m figuring on visiting with my folks for a spell of peace and quiet.”
“Give them my felicitations when you get there,” requested the elderly conjuneero. “And tell them I’ll be dropping by the next time I’m in the Indian Nations.”
“I’ll do tha—!” the lady outlaw commenced, but there was an interruption before she could finish what she was saying.
“Turn around slow and easy, with both hands showing empty!” commanded a harsh voice with a Chicago accent from behind the couple.
Chapter Twenty – She Isn’t the One
Hearing what was clearly an order directed at them, Belle Starr and Reginald “Parson” Higgert were brought back to a conscious awareness of their surroundings. Discovering the nature of the location they had reached whilst engaged in their conversation, they came immediately to a stop. A quick exchange of glances informed each that the other did not know who was addressing them. However, both were equally certain of one thing. No friend who had penetrated their disguise, even if otherwise given to practical joking, would have spoken in such a fashion. Realizing that the speaker was unlikely to have failed to take the precaution of having the means to back up the threatening words, they concluded it would be advisable to comply. Having ascertained who and what they were up against, they could decide how best to deal with the unexpected situation.
The maitre d’hôtel had not made a mistake when telling Hubert Charles Penfold the Third in which direction the lady outlaw and the elderly conjuneero had turned on leaving the Crystal Room Cafe.
On checking into the Cattlemen’s Hotel the previous day, having told Belle that attempting such an economy always brought him luck, Higgert had deliberately sought to avoid having to pay in advance for the room they would be occupying overnight. Although he would have had a couple of suitably weighted old trunks delivered, should the matter of baggage been raised later, the timing of their arrival had allowed them to obtain admittance with only such of their belongings as could be carried upon their persons. Therefore, when taking Penfold for the lunch which was the prelude to springing their trap upon him, they had had no intention of returning. Because neither had left anything behind which needed to be collected, having served their purpose by presenting them with an apparently innocent reason for making the acquaintance of their proposed victim, there was no reason for them to go back.
Having brought the confidence trick to its successful conclusion, Belle and Higgert were making their way to the home of the mutual friend at which they had met the day before. Once there, each would make changes to clothing and appearances ready to leave Fort Worth.
While talking, the lady outlaw and her companion had been walking in an apparently unhurried fashion away from the business section. Confident that it would be some time before Penfold realized he had been tricked, they had sought to avoid doing anything which might draw unwanted attention to them. Aware that an alert peace officer who saw them behaving in such a fashion might become suspicious, they had refrained from looking behind them. Even when turning from the street, to pass along an alley between two stores which had already closed for the day, they had not heard anything to suggest they were being followed.
The first indication of possible danger had come with the command to stop!
Following her usual habit, unless wearing its unmodified mate in the fast draw holster of her gunbelt, Belle was carrying her short barreled Manhattan Navy Model revolver in the bulky black reticule her left hand was grasping. However, she made no attempt to reach for it with the right as she began to turn. Nor, although she knew he had weapons concealed upon his person, did the elderly conjuneero try to arm himself. Being equally cognizant with the danger such an action would create, if performed prematurely, he too did nothing more than carry out the instructions they had been given.
Running her gaze quickly over the men who were approaching along the alley, the lady outlaw decided she was not acquainted in any way with either. A quick look at Higgert told her, without the need for words, he too did not know them. Returning her attention to them, she concluded it was the one at the left who had spoken. Just over middle height, bulky and hard looking, his features were sallow and heavily mustached. Despite wearing clothes indicative of city living, he held a Merwin & Hulbert Army Pocket revolver with an air of being sufficiently competent to prove dangerous at such close quarters. If no longer in the peak of physical condition, the second man was taller and well built. He too was dressed after the fashion of a town dweller, but more fashionably and expensively. Exuding a suggestion of comradely bonhomie frequently cultivated by one class of politician, he did not appear to be armed in any way.
“If robbery under arms is your intention, brothers,” Higgert boomed, reverting to his sternly religious demeanor, but making sure he kept both hands clear of his sides. “You’ve chosen badly. I’m but a poor servant of the Good Lord and—!”
“Damned if you ain’t good’s I’ve allus heard, Parson!” interrupted the man with the revolver, confirming Belle’s assumption that he had delivered the orders. “If I didn’t know better, you’d take me in the same’s you’ve done to plenty of suckers.”
“Just a moment, Mr. Steeples!” the second man put in, having given all his attention to the lady outlaw. He had a Southern drawl, with the timbre of one long used to public speaking. “You’ve made a mistake!”
“How do you mean?” the armed man demanded, neither relaxing his vigilance nor offering to lower his short barreled revolver.
“You promised to catch the woman who swindled me in Dallas,” the Southron reminded and waved a hand towards Belle. “And this isn’t her!”
“It was Belle Starr’s took you,” the armed man asserted. “And here she is!”
“She may be Belle Starr,” the Southron replied, still studying the lady outlaw and paying no attention to Higgert. Although far from flattering in one respect, his all too obvious disbelief was also a tribute to her powers of disguise. “But—!”
“She’s Belle Starr for sure!” the armed man declared and gestured with his revolver towards the conjuneero. “I got word’s how this old bastard’d asked her to side him ’cause his own gal’d got throwed in the pokey. So this’s her.”
“That’s as maybe,” the other man answered. “But I don’t care whether she’s Belle Starr or not. She isn’t the one who swindled me.”
“Are you sure?” the Chicagoan demanded.
“Of course I’m surer the Southron stated, his manner suggesting he was not used to having his words questioned. “Damn it all, man, don’t, you think I’d recognize the woman who took me for two thousand five hundred dollars?” He did not wait for a reply, but continued just as heatedly. “Well, she isn’t the one!”
“Then it looks like you lose out,” the armed man commented. “But not me. There’s dodgers on both of them. Top of that, they’ve likely just took some poor suckers’ll be willing to pay up for getting his money back.”
While the pair were talking, Belle had been surveying the situation and thinking fast. The name given to the man with the revolver had struck a responsive
chord in her memory. Their paths had not crossed, but she had heard him mentioned more than once during her recently ended sojourn in Kansas. Along with his brothers, Albert “High” and Wilfred “Little”, Joseph “Church” Steeples had begun to acquire a reputation as competent bounty hunters since coming west from Chicago. According to the accounts which had reached her, if falling short of the standards reached by many range country trained gun fighters, he was sufficiently skilful to pose a very serious threat under the circumstances. Certainly, he was not a man with whom it would pay to take chances.
Hearing the reference to ‘dodgers on both of them’, the lady outlaw swung a look at her companion. His gaze was turned her way and, having given a shake of his head, he mouthed the words, “On you?” to which she gave a negative response. To the best of her knowledge, because she always selected victims who would be disinclined to report their losses to the authorities, no law enforcement agency had put out wanted posters offering a reward for her capture.
Yet, taking into account that Steeples had been operating in Kansas, Belle realized there was a possibility of a bounty on her. If Town Marshal Kail Beauregard had discovered her connection with David Icke, he might have circularized other law enforcement agencies without her having heard of it. Even if this was not the case, however, she had no desire to be handed over to the local peace officers. Nor, she felt sure, had Higgert. If this happened, Penfold could supply all the evidence needed to make a case against them.
Regardless of being convinced that her companion had an equal wish to escape, the lady outlaw knew any attempt would be fraught with danger. They were faced by a man who, unless rumor lied, would not hesitate to use his gun if given provocation. What was more, ostensibly a law abiding citizen dealing with criminals, he could open fire without needing to worry about legal consequences. The same did not apply to them, if either should shoot him. Therefore, their only hope of escaping was to render him hors de combat without killing. However, unless they were able to create a diversion and distract him, at least one of them was certain to take lead should they try to do so.
Belle did not realize it, but she was in grave danger!
While no law enforcement agency had put a bounty on her, Steeples knew he could collect money for killing her!
When contacted by Armond Chauvelin, who was seeking vengeance after having learned the true identity of “Señora Donna Maria Constanza del Santa Rosa”, the Steeples brothers had known the risks they would face if they were successful in the proposition he made to them. These had increased, they realized, when their search for the lady outlaw had led them to Texas.
As far as the brothers had been able to ascertain, despite her participation in numerous lucrative confidence tricks, there were no outstanding warrants for the arrest of their intended victim. On the other hand, her close association with members of Ole Devil Hardin’s floating outfit in particular meant she could not be dealt with as if she was an ordinary wanted outlaw. If they wished to avoid bringing those deadly efficient young Texans down upon them, it was imperative that she was killed in what would have the appearance of self-defense whilst resisting a citizens’ arrest.
Having separated from his brothers, who were following up other leads, Church Steeples had seen the opportunity of seeking the excuse he required, and also a witness to substantiate his story of what happened. Learning that a prominent local politician had fallen victim of a confidence trick perpetrated by a beautiful woman, he had offered his services. Blaming Belle Starr, who he had discovered was making for Fort Worth, he had persuaded Owen O’Brien to accompany him so as to recover the money. Searching for her, having been told she was helping Higgert, he and O’Brien had seen them leaving the Crystal Room Cafe. Following them until they had left the sight of the few people on the street, he had drawn his revolver and forced them to a halt.
Now Steeples was waiting for anything which would offer him an excuse to start shooting, with his companion a man of some importance in the area available to support his claim to have acted in self-defense against two known criminals.
Before the bounty hunter could say or do anything to bring about the response he required, there was an interruption!
Having discovered he had been tricked, much sooner than was anticipated by Belle and Higgert, Penfold had settled the check and was preparing to leave the cafe. At the sight of them walking along the street, his first impulse had been to shout for assistance. However, failing to locate a peace officer in the immediate vicinity, he had realized that to do so would put them to flight. Satisfied he could deal personally with the old man and expecting no trouble from the ‘daughter’, he had set off in pursuit. Although he had noticed the two men following his quarry into the alley, his only thought was that they would be available to help him make the capture. On reaching it, being unable to see the revolver held by Steeples, he failed to attach any significance to the way in which the group were standing.
“Got y—!” the red-faced young man yelped, rushing into the alley.
“Get him, Hank!” Belle yelled, startled by the sight of the victim she had believed would still be awaiting the return of her ‘father’, but having the presence of mind to try and take advantage of the unexpected development.
At the sound of the voice and footsteps behind him, Steeples glanced over his shoulder. Seeing the clearly angry figure approaching, he reached the conclusion which the lady outlaw had hoped to produce and, spitting an obscenity, he began to swing around. Also deceived by her words, Penfold threw himself forward with his hands reaching for the revolver being turned his way.
The instant Steeples was distracted, Belle and Higgert made the most of the opportunity her quick wits had created!
Although the conjuneero had a Remington Double Derringer in an easily accessible concealment holster, he did not wish to indulge in gunplay and he considered something less noisy would serve his purpose. Displaying a surprising speed for one of his age, he shook his wrist and stepped forward. Released from its holder strapped to his right wrist, a leather wrapped and spring loaded sap slipped from his sleeve into the waiting hand. Swinging it around almost horizontally, he aimed under the curly brim of the derby hat which would have reduced the effect of a blow to the top of the head. Struck at the base of the skull, Steeples crumpled like a punctured balloon. He had begun to squeeze the trigger of his double action revolver, but the hammer was not yet far enough back to operate and it fell from his grasp unfired.
Almost within reaching distance, Penfold was unable to halt as the man he was intending to tackle started to collapse. Instead, he threw his arms around Steeples. The weight of the unconscious bounty hunter caused him to lose his balance. Before he could even try to regain it, Higgert’s left hand knocked the hat from his head and the right delivered a blow with the sap which toppled him and his burden to the ground.
“Stand still and keep quiet, mister!” Belle commanded, bringing the Manhattan out of her reticule while her companion was arming himself. Seeing he needed no help from her, she devoted her attention to the Southron. “You and I don’t have any quarrel, going by what you said, so I don’t want to have to hurt you.”
“We’re in agreement on that, young lady,” O’Brien replied. “No offence intended, but are you really Belle Starr?”
“I am,” the lady outlaw confirmed “Did the woman who swindled you claim she was?”
“No,” the Southron answered. “That was Steeples’ idea. When he came to see me he said it must be you who did it, and offered to help me find you and get my money back.”
“That’s the oldest game in the book,” Belle stated. “Anyways, my friend and I are going now. I’d sooner we didn’t have to put you down like those two, so will you give us your word as a Southern gentleman not to raise an alarm for five minutes?”
“I will,” the Southron promised immediately, having no desire to be struck down and confident this would happen if he did otherwise. Then his instincts as a politician took over and he w
ent on, “By the way, Miss Starr, the next time you meet Captain Fog, or Mark Counter, tell them Owen O’Brien of Dallas sends his best wishes.”
“Count on me to do just that,” the lady outlaw replied, aware of what else was implied by the request. “Let’s go, Parson. We can count on Mr. O’Brien to keep his word.”
“And I’ll make sure the local officers know it wasn’t you who took me in, Miss Starr,” the politician offered, feeling sure his behavior would be mentioned to the two young men he had named and, hopefully, bring him the good offices of their influential family connections. “Goodbye. I won’t do anything for five minutes, unless you need longer—!”
“Five minutes will be fine!” Belle declared. “Adios, Mr. O’Brien. I hope you find that woman and get your money back.”
“You wouldn’t be interested in finding her for me, I don’t suppose?” hinted the politician.
“Bounty hunting isn’t my style,” the lady outlaw refused, despite wondering which female conjuneero had performed the swindle. “As long as she doesn’t try to put the blame on me by using my name, I’ve got no quarrel with her.”
“It was just a thought,” O’Brien sighed, feeling sure the beautiful young woman could have found her fellow confidence trickster if she wished. “Goodbye then, Miss Starr, sir. May you both get away safely.”
Chapter Twenty-One – Let’s Have Another Drink
“Blast it, we’re too late!” Belle Starr ejaculated, acting as if she had expected a response to the tug she had given upon the bell cord hanging down from a corner of the expensively furnished sitting-room in the mansion to which she had brought an intended victim. “Aunt Selena-Mae’s servants have already left for their night off!”